Throne of Scars

by Alaric Longward

  “I doubt Eris was enough for them,” I muttered. “They diseased me and will expect me to—”

  He shook his head and tapped the stone before me. “Silence. This is a dilemma. My spies in Eris’s realm sent me a message of a strange man they saw casting a spell and killing the Queen. I knew it was one of you. I knew Shannon was planning for something. She is desperate. You are right, she will die in Himingborg. And perhaps you can still save her. Get the Horn from me, and all things under the sky will change, if Shannon gets it to Hel. Or, as you fool hope, to the gods. And still, they do not tell you everything. You were told they would bring the Scepter to me?”

  “Yes,” I said. “They would trade it—”

  He chuckled. “Itax gets you in, Kiera executes some miraculous feat of thievery while you lot attend the Black Feast and then the sacrificial fight. Fascinating. But I doubt they plan to give me anything.”

  “I know not,” I answered. “I am just a soldier. But they need the Horn. That’s the only thing they … we need. They might very well try to trade the Scepter for the Horn. Why not attack you for the Horn, instead of going for the Scepter, unless they hope to trade it? You would be probably easier to slay than Stheno.”

  He looked insulted that I’d consider him the easier prey. Then he pondered the issue. “Itax was to get you out of Scardark. Itax was to arrange for the trade. Itax—”

  “He probably died,” I said with anger.

  The dragon pushed to silence me. “Shh. No, he is out there, gathering his men. Itax might be able to keep his word to Shannon. But, as we both know, he will have the Scepter for himself. Three options he gave you. But there are only two. Either you die, or he will get it. But here is my option. You see, I cannot defeat the armies of Scardark and the four cities that are faithful to Stheno. I got lucky and captured Ban’s and some other lesser minds, but that won’t happen again.”

  I nodded, not sure what the bastard was planning. “You have armies. You have King Ban’s land. Two others? Surely you can hole up forever in Ban’s city. You can escape.”

  “I’ll not escape,” he said stiffly. “And yes, I can hole up there. But that is no winning strategy. And there is no guarantee I might keep the place. Vastness is a home to millions. Scardark has two hundred thousand inhabitants. And now they will field an army of hundred thousands. Stheno’s allies have been coming for weeks. In a month, they can have three hundred thousand. I have fifty to sixty thousand from three cities. I cannot beat them as long as Stheno carries the Scepter. And Stheno will not negotiate. Why should she? She’ll know if I get the Scepter, I’ll rule Svartalfheim, eventually.”

  “Why? Why is this Scepter so important? It has powers, but—”

  He slapped my head with his claw. “She’d have to relocate, and Stheno is not one to give up on her toys. Oh, she craves for this, but she will not let me have the land of Svartalfheim in return.”

  Then he pulled it from some magical hiding place.

  The Horn. Gjallarhorn.

  There it was, gleaming in his claw. It was black, lacquered with gold, with bright swirls of silver in the end. I wasn’t sure, but it had looked different before, when Euryale had blown it. It was only a foot long, and there was a tiny figure of a golden dragon perched on top of it. It was the Horn that opened and closed the gates to the Nine Worlds, the horn they had blown on all of the gates to shut the gods out. Only a First Born God, or some mighty creature of the gods might use it. It was my prize, what Hel also desired, what the gods drooled after and the dragon looked at it as if he was uniquely disappointed with it. I cleared my throat. “Yes. We’ve all been looking for it.”

  “And I have no real need of it,” he laughed. “I wanted it, always did, but only to trade it for the one item I could use.”

  “For the Scepter?”

  “Yes,” he hissed. “The Scepter. And like nobody has told you anything about the Scepter’s purpose, neither shall I be specific. Let us just say it has many uses. It is a guard of goddesses, it is a symbol of power, and it opens doors.”

  “And you are willing to give the Horn for it?” I wondered. “You could trade it to Hel. Right now.”

  He threw it up and caught it, laughing softly. “I can’t. I can’t blow it. They told you this.”

  “First Born—”

  He snorted. “We are powerful as the First Born. But we are not First Born. Dragons came later.”

  I shook my head. The orange eyes seemed to dare me to mock it for the fact. “I see,” I said simply.

  He went on. “If I could, I still wouldn’t. Like Itax, I also have plans of my own for Svartalfheim.”

  “Itax said he could restore the gods, without Hel getting her hands on it,” I said.

  “Itax is a fool,” he murmured. “Shannon, the Under Lord, me. We all have things we need, and those things get in each other’s way.”

  “Itax said his plans would help Shannon.”

  “A thief told me once,” the dragon said humorlessly, “that it too, was born of an egg. Do not believe anything that you are told in this land.”

  “I don’t,” I hissed. “That includes you. What do you want from me?”

  He shrugged. “I have my own game. I don’t care for Hel. I don’t care for most of the Aesir or of the Vanir. I want the Scepter of the Night and what it brings me. In return, I will give the Horn to you.”

  “Good luck, then,” I whispered. “Good luck with your mysterious goals, dragon. I expect you will take my head now? Are you done mocking me now?”

  His thorny back bristled, as if preparing to do the deed, but instead he spoke with a whisper. “I’m not hungry. And you can be useful with the head attached.”

  “You will conquer my mind like you did Ban’s?” I spat.

  He shook his head. “It is a useful spell, but it leaves the victim near incapable of independent thought,” he answered languidly. “Can’t have that. No. I’ll let you go. I’ll let you decide. You are going to Scardark,” it stated bluntly. “And you have little hope of success. Your fire giant and the dead girl tell you it is all going to be well. Cosia said you shall fight and conquer and perhaps you shall. Itax tells you lies. In the end, no matter what happens, you will hate your friends. Yes, any human who serves the dead, will be disappointed. They don’t think like you. And if Itax succeeds, you shall fall. So here is a fourth option.” He handed me something.

  It was the small mirror. A piece of the Raven’s Flight. “I know this,” I breathed. “Dana used it to summon Euryale when Shannon had fought Cerunnos.”

  “You need to tap it four times. That will open a way,” he said simply. “Four taps will close it. It is a way to the real mirror, and away from it. And I’ll wait on the other side, in safety. Relative safety,” he added.

  I stared at it blankly. “You come in and kill everyone, you mean? You’ll come in, kill my friends, butcher me, and take what you want. You—”

  “No,” it hissed. “I’ll not risk flying to a trap. I don’t trust you. Think. You can trust me. My promise is the one you can trust.”

  “I can’t trust anyone,” I growled. “Not one. You just said so. So why would I trust you?”

  “When you can, escape,” he said simply. “Escape your treacherous friends with the Scepter. Escape Itax’s lies. And unlike your friends who dance to the will of Hel and her slave Shannon, or Itax who could lie to your face and not remember it the next day, I will not be able to. I’ll make a Dragon Pact with you to both spare you and to give you the Horn, if you bring the Scepter to me.” He leaned close, his breath hot on my face. “Think. You wowed to get the Horn to Shannon. Itax said you’ll be disappointed, even if the plan goes well. Your friends have another plan you will hate. And Itax will try to cheat you all. I’m giving you the Horn, and I cannot lie if we make the Pact.”

  I opened my mouth to argue.

  He was right. If the Pact bound him, his deal was the best one in the game. I had no idea what a Dragon Pact meant, not really. Shannon had chea
ted him with her death, but she had faced a magical demise if she had been alive and failed in the terms of their deal. “Wait. A Dragon Pact? You—”

  He sighed. “We are running out of time, Ulrich. They’ll come soon. If you’ll give me the Scepter, Ulrich, if you give it to my hands, I’ll do the following. Listen carefully. You will give me the Scepter, and I’ll give you the Horn, and see you and your surviving friends safely out of Svartalfheim, anywhere you wish to go. I’ll not come after you for a year. I’ll even clean Shannon’s blood off that wound. This is the Pact I offer.”

  Shannon’s blood? There was Shannon’s blood in mine? So it wasn’t a curse, but the blood of Hand of Hel? “They—”

  He smirked at my confusion. “I smell it. Eris suspected it, no doubt, but I have met Shannon. You’ve guessed why they did that to you. It will make sense, if you understand how the dead think. They made a potent weapon out of you, and perhaps they think you can be healed. But for Shannon, your death is not a big issue.”

  “It is! She wouldn’t—”

  “Your death is an opportunity for her to bring you back as she is,” he chortled. “Death is no problem the Hand of Hel cannot handle. But this is the Pact I’m offering. You only have to place the Scepter in my hands. This I swear. The Pact will know if I lie, and it will stop my heart. The best Pact there ever was.”

  I was nodding. “I still do not know what Kiera and Thak hoped I’d do.”

  “Matters not,” he smiled toothily. “You’ll see soon enough. This is our only hope, yours and mine. And perhaps your Shannon’s, since Itax will betray you all.”

  “Will I betray them?” I whispered. “I made an oath to Shannon. I will not break it. No matter what she did to me. At least not fully.”

  “A fool you are, Ulrich, with all the lies you have been told,” he said and shimmered to a human-sized, thick-shouldered man with darkness for a face and a mask over his mouth. “But the choice is yours. You may do with the Horn as you will. The Horn will be yours. I cannot lie if you accept the Pact. Take it to Shannon, then. Agree? And you will fail to please them anyway.”

  I rubbed my face. “Fail them? I’ve done shitty deeds for them already. What makes you think I won’t just keep doing this shit again?”

  He snorted. “Your heart. You will see. You cannot do the deeds they expect you to do. It’s not in you. No more. Take the Pact, Ulrich.”

  I nodded. I had little to lose. I clutched the mirror and tucked it under my belt. “I will hand you the Scepter for the Gjallarhorn. You will deliver us where we want to go, safe. And you will not attack us for one year. I agree.”

  “I agree, the Pact is binding, by Tiamax,” he said, relieved.

  I felt a sting in my chest. I placed my hand over it, and looked down. It was not the wound that ached, but something deeper. The dragon spoke, holding its chest briefly. “Keep the mirror well hidden.”

  I hesitated and felt like a filthy liar, but forgave myself quickly. It was time I took precautions. And in fact, I was only keeping to the plan they had shared with me. If they had another, its failure was on them. Shannon would benefit, after all.

  “Fight well,” the dragon said. “And if you die, the deal is off. Obviously. If they raise you, I shall not spare you. Shannon’s trickery was enough.” He moved, having heard something. A call in the dark. I heard many steps approaching. “Farewell, Ulrich, and survive.”

  “Farewell?” I whispered. “I’ve not fared well—”

  The dragon shimmered, and fled to the dark, uninterested in my issues.

  I pulled off Itax’s ring and hid it in my belt, next to the mirror.

  I heard steps behind me now. I turned to look at the arrivals. Itax was there with six svartalf warriors, all dressed haphazardly, armored with chain and plate, holding gleaming weapons. They were his guards, wet and shivering, survivors of the sunken ship. Itax walked forward, looking around carefully. “What was it? I heard a roar.”

  I lifted an eyebrow. “What? There’s war. Battle magic. Or a freak accident.”

  “You saw nothing? How did you survive? Did you see who attacked the ship?”

  “Ban’s people? I held my breath,” I told him, glowering. “Got out as the chain broke.”

  He nodded, his eyes on the broken chain not too far. “Miracle your arm is still intact, eh?” He stared at me suspiciously, and I stared back defiantly, until he nodded towards the river. “Things got a bit complicated as I lost some of the cargo, but we are still in business, I think. We are going. Are you ready, Ulrich?”

  I nodded and looked at the two svartalfs approaching with chains. I reluctantly lifted my hands.

  They clamped them on me. He tapped my hand affectionately. “We were lucky. Just remember my offer, because I have a hunch you will indeed be even unhappier in just a few short hours.”

  I’d be dead, if he had his way.

  “Did my friends travel with us?”

  He chuckled. “You will be happy to know the giant survived the sinking of the Bone Queen. The dead girl is making her way to Scardark over land.”

  “Oh, I’m happy my friends survived, all right,” I snickered. “Good.” I felt some would not be my friends much longer.

  They pulled me off after them.

  The dragon was no friend. But I had a hunch he had offered a far better deal than any of my so-called friends or Itax had.

  But soon, I’d know everything.

  CHAPTER 14

  Itax’s ragged band led us down winding paths through the hills of Vastness. There were well-laden roads, and tiny, narrow ways and they knew them all. The land was mostly rocky, but there were great lakes where green and blue luminescent water streamed from deep beneath the land. At one point, there was a gigantic waterfall roaring over golden rocks, tumbling far down to unknown depths. Villages built of stone and metals dotted the main roadsides, and we stopped at a tavern called The Steaming Lizard. It was a round, squat house with many guests. It was home-like, with a cozy fire, a slightly irritating singer, and friendly faces. We ate well, and said little. Itax was in a reclusive mood, perhaps upset over the loss of the ship and cargo, but there was something else.

  The normally confident svartalf was nervous.

  When someone entered, his eyes flashed that way. When someone laughed, he frowned. A human was a rare enough sight for the locals to come and gawk at us, and he had his men chase off many such a patron before they could ask questions.

  I gazed at the people as I ate.

  They were much like Aldheimers. Most of the guests looked wealthy enough, though in Svartalfheim, where the majority of riches of the Nine Worlds were to be found, even a svartalf with a golden belt might be considered poor. You could see which ones were the warriors by their fine gear and haughty bearing, and which ones were merchants by their banter. And then there were the commoners, or young ones, who had not found a way in life for themselves yet. They looked just as lost as any wastrel in any of the worlds. All svartalfs had either white or black skin and hair, beautiful and well-structured bones, hugely lustrous hair, and bright eyes like their cousins in Aldheim. Magic of the Gift was far more relevant in Svartalfheim than in Aldheim. Many a laughing svartalf would amuse their friends by spells of air, or fire, creating most extraordinary artwork. They celebrated success with stomping of feet and offering of drinks to the one who managed the most surprising spells.

  Despite the monsters wrestling to capture it, it seemed a happy land, full of happy people. Oddly enough, I liked Svartalfheim.

  “How is it so that svartalfs fight so many wars in Svartalfheim?” I murmured. “Ruugatha aside, there seems to be much more balance in the Below than the Above.”

  Itax shrugged. “Ruugatha aside? That is what makes it balanced. And why fight? Why? They are just like the elves in Aldheim. Or humans in Midgard, for that matter. Some have more than the others. Others covet it. Old family feuds carry far. Scardark’s Five Thrones once fought wars between their clans inside the city. That city,” Itax
chuckled, “reeks of blood. It changed when she took the land. Where Freyr let his elves run around warring, it was different here. The Aesir has … had a goddess watching out for the land.”

  “Nött,” I muttered. “I know.”

  He nodded, touching his finger where the ring used to be. He frowned and went on. “You know shit, Ulrich. She was beautiful as the stars in Aldheim, or the rubies of the deepest caves. This land had Nött. She moved here, the Lady of the Night, and brought her court with her. She raised a palace and a city around the gate to Asgaard, and there she ruled from. The city was a wonder. She laid down laws to limit war and made sure a successful Ruugatha would stop the killing. No sons or daughters would raise armies to retake the throne for ten years. There were to be no raging wars that sucked in nations. The Aldheimers might lose a beloved noble lord, and they can fight for it for ever after. Here, the throne changes hands, and the losers bow to the winner and obey for the time they have to. It doesn’t always work that way, of course, but mostly it does. This dragon business is the first major war between the cities since forever. The svartalfs do attack tribes outside of Vastness and the kingdoms in the depths, but not each other. It’s a sad business.” He hummed. “Ah, Nött. She loved thieves and clever rogues. My family ever served her. She laid down the laws and traditions, but had her own agendas, she did. She loved riches and those who bend the rules. Slightly that is. Oh, she loved games and tragedy. Offer her a chance to play a game, and she rarely refused.”

  “I bet,” I cursed. “The gods sound as dangerous as thieves in the dark.”

  He was nodding. “She was certainly dangerous. Not all gods were. She had dangerous subjects. Dragons, the three sisters.”

  “Stheno and Euryale?” I asked “And—”

  “And Medusa,” he interrupted. “It’s hard to say when Stheno’s brood move here. Some say they came with Nött, and made their own realm in the Dark Waters, but they lived and travelled far in the Nine, and I guess they felt they should have a world of their own. More than one. They resented the goddess. They tried, still try. Medusa didn’t like her place as the third sister and joined as one of Hel’s generals in the wars. I think she led an army to Midgard. They had a huge battle there, with the Aesir Baduhanna leading the humans.”