“There shall be no invasion of Asgard.”
That brought Loki up short. “Whyever not? Has Odin’s offense been eliminated? Has Hrungnir decided that being humiliated is not an affront that should be answered?”
“Oh, the affront will be answered, worry not. I have simply chosen a different path to achieve justice for Odin’s insult. Even as we speak, Thor is wending his way to Jotunheim to do battle with Hrungnir in one-on-one combat.”
Surprised, Loki asked, “And Thor agreed to this?”
“We will know soon enough. If he does not arrive by nightfall, then I will have to kill our guest.”
“Guest?”
“A hostage from Asgard, whose life I am trading for battle with the thunder god. And now, thanks to you, I have the means to ensure victory!”
Thjasse then spoke. “Assuming Loki is amenable to your using his gifts to kill his adoptive brother.”
“I believe I already addressed that particular concern, Thjasse. However, I will reiterate that I have no issue with Hrungnir being the cause of Thor’s demise. My path to rule Asgard is blocked by both Odin and Thor. If Hrungnir removes Thor from the playing field, then my task is halved.” He loped over to the stone armor in his lupine form. “So please, accept these gifts, and use them to win your battle with Thor.”
“Excellent!” Hrungnir threw his head back and laughed. “This will be a battle for the ages! They will write of it in legend and song—and that song shall be ‘The Death of Thor’!”
Loki was grateful that he was in wolfen form, as it meant the sigh of annoyance he let loose at Hrungnir’s boast came out more like a snarl.
“Let me try this magickal armor you have provided, then.” Hrungnir walked over to the armor, and then hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.
“Merely touch it and it will encase you.”
Hrungnir hesitated. “This is not a trick? Odin is still your father, and you are still the trickster. This may be a ploy to trap me within this statue you have magicked up.”
“Technically, because he took me from your uncle, Odin can be considered my father, by default, I suppose. But do not believe that I have any filial regard. You may rest assured that there are no tricks here. If you are to fight Odin’s other son, then I am here only to help. Touching that armor will place it around you, and you will be invulnerable.”
With a chortle, Hrungnir said, “Excellent. My victory over Odin’s favorite son is assured!”
Loki winced. It was certainly true that Thor was Odin’s favorite. This never made any sense to Loki, as you would think a leader such as Odin would value brains and cunning over brute force. Not to mention that he was stuck with Thor as his son no matter what—he had chosen Loki. And yet he was still treated like this …
Yes, it would definitely be worthwhile to watch Hrungnir thrash Thor for the sins of their father.
Hrungnir stood by the stone armor that looked like a sculpture the giants had placed on their lawn. At first, he simply stared at it. It wasn’t a solid piece of stone, he realized. The arms, legs, headpiece, and chestpiece were all separate, but linked together. The headpiece included a square gap for the giant’s face.
Then the giant reached out to touch the armor, as instructed.
As Loki and the other giants watched, Hrungnir’s body seemed to grow insubstantial, turned transparent, and then was sucked into the armor.
The other giants immediately tensed. Several of them raised their weapons.
Thjasse turned to face Loki. “What did you do?”
But then Hrungnir’s face was visible in the gap in the helmet.
Cautiously, Thjasse turned again, this time to face his leader. “Hrungnir?”
Hrungnir raised an arm experimentally. Then he broke into a huge grin and reached down to pick up the enchanted club.
“Are you well, Hrungnir?” Thjasse asked, still sounding concerned.
“‘Well?’ Oh, Thjasse, I am far more than ‘well.’ With this armor surrounding me I am stronger than ever!”
Loki’s wolfen snout curled back to bare his teeth, the closest he could come to a smile in this form. “You should test the armor’s mettle.”
Hrungnir tried to nod his head, though that was a difficult gesture in the armor. He turned to his fellow giants. “Attack me!”
The giants exchanged glances for a moment. True, giants sparred with each other all the time, and even Hrungnir engaged in those bouts from time to time, but those were mostly wrestling matches.
“I said, attack!”
Three of the giants raised their weapons and came at Hrungnir.
First, Arnborn swung at Hrungnir with his club. The weapon bounced off Hrungnir’s side, and Arnborn was devastated to see a crack now running down the middle. “I’ve had this club since I was a boy!”
Next, Olav came at Hrungnir with his axe raised over his head. It came smashing down on the armor’s helm, and splintered in twain, the axe head flying off into the snow, leaving Olav standing, stunned, with only the haft. “I stole this axe from a dwarf! It never even needed to be sharpened!”
And then Niels thrust his great sword right at Hrungnir’s chest. The sword shattered upon impact. Niels then shrugged. “Never liked that sword, anyhow.”
Hrungnir brayed a laugh to the very sky. “None shall be able to defeat me now!”
Thjasse, however, was more cautious. “We know that you cannot be harmed by even the finest weapons.” He glanced at Niels. “Or the poorest. But fighting is offensive as well as defensive. Can you even move about in that thing?”
Hrungnir immediately strode across the snow to grab Arnborn. He moved remarkably swiftly for a person encased in stone, and he picked up a surprised Arnborn and tossed him aside.
“And your strength?” Thjasse asked.
Loki was starting to grow weary of Thjasse’s skepticism. “The armor obviously does what I promised. Why must you—?”
“Because even Loki’s truths are lies,” Thjasse said.
Bridling at the interruption, Loki said, “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“No,” Hrungnir said, “my lieutenant speaks true. Thjasse is clever and wise. I must know how strong I am now.”
“The oak,” Thjasse said immediately.
Hrungnir grinned. “Yes!”
The giants all moved to the rear of the redoubt. Loki followed on all fours, curious as to what oak they were speaking of.
Around back, they came upon a giant, grizzled oak tree. It had no leaves on it, and Loki soon realized that the tree was petrified.
Looking more closely, the trickster saw that the oak had scarring and markings all over it.
“This oak,” Hrungnir said as he strode toward it, “has been the test of strength for my people for generations. Many giants have strengthened themselves against its unforgiving bark, but it has remained standing—it has remained unyielding.” He pointed at one scar. “I remember my father making this very dent upon the tree. He said it was the mightiest blow he ever struck.”
Hrungnir then reared back with a cocked fist and slammed it into the oak, shattering it into a million pieces.
The sundering of the petrified wood echoed throughout Jotunheim. Loki imagined that they heard the sound in all Nine Worlds, vibrating through the tendrils of Yggdrasil.
As the sound from the tree’s destruction started to fade, a preternatural quiet spread throughout the area around Hrungnir’s redoubt. Loki looked around and saw that the giants were all staring at the tree’s remains in abject shock, their mouths hanging open. Flies could have entered their mouths unmolested, if it had not been too frigid for them.
Then, after several interminable seconds when Loki feared he was going to have to check to see if the giants were still alive, Hrungnir started to laugh.
Only then did the other giants join in, and soon the echoes of petrified wood being splintered were replaced by the echoes of braying laughter from a dozen or more frost giants.
“Oh, well done, Loki!
This armor will ensure my victory over the thunderer! And after I have trounced him, then I will lead my forces back to Asgard! Armed as I am with this armor of yours, none shall be able to stop me. The broken bodies of Sif, Balder, the Warriors Three, Heimdall, and all the other puny gods will litter the path to Odin, where I will crush his one-eyed head on his very throne!” He faced his subjects and raised both hands in the air. “Victory!”
The giants all shouted, “Victory!”
Loki muttered, “You haven’t won anything yet, fool,” but his lupine voice could not be heard over the shouting.
Instead, he loped quietly toward the redoubt. Hrungnir mentioned a hostage, and Loki was curious as to whom the giant had kidnapped in order to bend Thor to his will.
Chapter Eight
Normally, when Thor was carried through the heavens by Mjolnir, the hammer’s speed was more than sufficient.
But now, as he rocketed over the mountains toward Jotunheim, it felt agonizingly slow.
While he always felt heavily the responsibility of protecting both Asgard and Midgard, it was as nothing compared to the responsibility he felt toward Frigga.
Strictly speaking, Frigga was not Thor’s mother, for Thor had been born of a union between Odin and Jord, whom some mortals called Gaea, the earth-goddess of Midgard. Thor had always assumed that his affinity for the world of mortals was at least in part due to that particular quirk of parentage.
But while Jord was the woman who bore him, it was Frigga who raised him. Odin could charitably be called a distant father, if for no other reason than his responsibilities as All-Father took up a great deal of his time. And often his love for his son had to be tempered by his need to be a fair and stern ruler of all Asgard.
So it was Frigga who took care of him. Frigga who fed him and clothed him.
Frigga who told him all those stories: of Odin and his brothers Vili and Ve, of his father’s battle against Laufey that cemented Asgard’s dominance over the frost giants, of her own marriage to Odin that united the Aesir and the Vanir under Asgard’s banner.
Frigga who tended the injuries of the rambunctious child who was constantly getting into mischief—both due to his own headstrong nature and due to encouragement by a most pernicious-minded adopted brother.
Frigga who comforted Thor when he was sad, laughed with him when he was happy, and helped him when he was confused.
Frigga who taught Thor to read, who taught Thor to think, and perhaps most importantly, taught Thor compassion. For while he learned about how to make the hard choices a ruler needed to make from Odin, it was from Frigga that he learned the need to leaven those decisions with kindness and thoughtfulness.
Frigga who accepted no credit for her own work in keeping Asgard safe and as peaceful as possible, given that they were surrounded by foes. Never did she allow herself to be considered one of the leaders of Asgard, though she performed a leadership role—including today. She accepted the responsibility, but shied away from the power.
Thor owed his physical strength and command over the storm to Odin. He owed his heroism to Frigga.
And now he felt as though he had failed her. True, Thor and the others were able to defeat the frost giants, but Hrungnir had gotten away, and that set in motion the events that led to Frigga being his prisoner.
Against the trolls, Thor had taken it upon himself to fight Baugi, for Baugi was the leader.
Against the frost giants, he had allowed others to get in the way, and Hrungnir escaped. He had focused on the entirety of the giants rather than Hrungnir himself. He should have left the other giants to his comrades and focused on the leader as he had with Baugi, but Hrungnir’s mighty blow with his club had angered the thunder god.
When he was a youth, Thor regularly let his temper get the best of him. Young Loki often took advantage of that to provoke Thor for some prank or other. As he grew older, that temper combined with his strength and the power of Mjolnir to blossom into arrogance. It was what led Odin to change Thor’s shape to that of a crippled mortal and leave him trapped, amnesiac, on Midgard to teach him humility.
While those lessons were well learned, there were times when Thor still let his arrogance get the better of him. He thought he could take on all the frost giants himself, rather than let his friends do so while he focused on Hrungnir.
And Frigga had paid the price for his allowing Hrungnir to escape.
Based on what Gudrun had said, Frigga had deliberately engaged Hrungnir so that Volstagg’s wife and the children of Asgard would be safe. It was exactly that selflessness that Thor tried every day to emulate.
Today, he had failed. And he would not let it stand.
He soon arrived over Jotunheim, and quickly sighted Hrungnir’s keep. It was a flimsy redoubt, and Thor had to admit to disappointment. He recalled the grand halls of Utgard-Loki and Ymir and even that of Laufey, the first victim of Mjolnir when Odin wielded the hammer before gifting it to his son. They were halls worthy of a leader.
This was not. Hrungnir’s keep was barely a habitable structure. Thor realized that Hrungnir’s reputation was built primarily on the speed of Goldfaxi. He was beginning to believe that the giant had come to resemble his mount, specifically its backside.
And then he saw the giants gathered around what appeared to be a statue.
As he alighted upon the ground, Thor saw the statue move, and realized that it was stone armor. Hrungnir’s face was visible underneath the helm.
“Is this, then, how you face me, Hrungnir? Hiding behind stone raiments?”
“No more than you hide behind your own armor, thunder god. Do you not wear a helmet to protect your head? Mail to protect your chest?”
“Very well, Hrungnir, if you feel you must use armor to face me, then so be it! But first, I demand proof of life!”
The giant frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
Thor shook his head. “You claim to have my mother as your prisoner. I would have you back your claim with action and show me that the Lady Frigga is alive and well and in your care.”
Hrungnir stared angrily at Thor for many seconds before finally saying, “Do you doubt my word, thunder god?”
“I do indeed. Odin claims that you are no breaker of oaths, but I have difficulty putting stock in the honor of one who bargains with the life of a wife and mother.”
“Very well. Thjasse!”
Thjasse stepped forward. “Shall I bring the woman out?”
“Yes.” Hrungnir was, as usual, pleased with Thjasse’s cleverness.
Within moments, Thjasse had disappeared into the keep, and returned with Frigga. Her hands and mouth were bound, preventing her from weaving any spells that might aid in her escape. Thor cursed Hrungnir for his perspicacity.
“As you can see, Thor, your mother is unharmed. The bindings are necessary to ensure her remaining our guest.”
“Hostage, you mean,” Thor said.
“Take her away,” Hrungnir said, and Thjasse quickly moved to obey his wishes, bringing Frigga back into the keep.
The leader of the frost giants then turned to face Thor. “Your father spoke the truth about me. As proof I offer the fact that I did not kill him where he stood after his mount defeated mine in a foot race. I promised him safe passage away from us if he won, and I granted him that. Indeed, when last I encountered the All-Father, it was he who lied, he who deceived! He gave his name as ‘Bolverk,’ and did not identify his horse as the great Sleipnir. So do not speak to me of honor, thunderer—the frost giants of Jotunheim know the meaning of that word far more than you Asgardians do.”
“Your words do you more credit than your actions, Hrungnir.”
“Then hear these words, Thor! We will fight—you against me. None of my subjects will aid me in battle against you, and none of your oafish comrades will aid you in battle against me. It shall be the god of thunder versus the mighty brawler. The only way you may win the Lady Frigga’s freedom is by defeating me!”
“Then stand fast, Hrungnir, for
defeat you, I shall! None may harm the personage of the mother of all Asgard without paying the price, and you may rest assured that the cost I exact will be most dear!” He twirled the hammer over his head and threw it at Hrungnir’s armored form, grabbing hold of the strap as he did so. As he rocketed toward his foe, he cried, “For Asgard! For Odin! And most of all, for Frigga!”
And then Thor crashed into Hrungnir’s stone armor with a bone-shaking impact that slammed through the thunder god and sent him sprawling to the ground.
Hrungnir himself had not budged. Thor felt a most unaccustomed pain all up and down his body, particularly in his arms, which were what hit Hrungnir’s stone armor the hardest.
“What sorcery is this?” Thor asked.
“Does it matter? It is my sorcery because I use it.” Hrungnir punctuated his reply with an uppercut at Thor’s prone form.
The punch collided with Thor’s jaw and sent the thunder god through the air toward the keep. So stunned was he by the impact that he let go of Mjolnir as he sailed over the cold ground and landed in the snow.
Propping himself upright, Thor said, “Not since last I fought the Hulk have I been struck by so great a blow!”
Hrungnir started running toward Thor, his footfalls shaking the very ground. “Allow me to surpass it, then!”
And again, Hrungnir bent low and threw an uppercut, one that sent Thor hurtling to the sky, along with a dusting of snow.
Ignoring the ache in his ribs, Thor reached out at the apex of his impromptu flight. Mjolnir flew into his hand, and he used it to stay aloft.
But Hrungnir was now reaching down to the ground to pick up his club, which he then threw right at Thor. The weapon was not usually one that would be thrown, but it flew like a missile through the air. Thor was barely able to dodge it by flying downward, back toward Hrungnir.
Since the giant used his club the way Thor used his hammer, he decided to return the favor, and he swung Mjolnir like a club, striking Hrungnir in the side of the head.
It had no effect.
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