"Why, this is to say that what has been torn apart, will be stronger and more healthy when it has been knit back together!" Alea declared. "No wonder the Wizard wanted you to tell it to me!"
The giants looked at one another in wonder.
"The small one speaks truly," Riara said. "The myth tells us that the nations of humanity may be rejoined into one, and will be stronger and better for having been sundered, then rejoined!"
"No wonder the tale isn't told in Midgard," Alea said bitterly.
"Perhaps there is another reason," Gar said. "Where did your ancestors learn this myth?"
The giants exchanged glances. Riara said, "They found old books, and searched out the eddas and the sagas, as we have told you-but I think they may have made that tale themselves."
"Or taken it from another book," Gar said. "It sounds like one I've heard that comes from lands far south of the home of the Aesir-as do Dumi and Thummaz."
They looked faintly surprised, but most of the giants nodded. "You come from far away indeed," Riara said "and we have no reason to doubt you. Surely, though, the source of the myth matters not."
"Indeed," Gar replied, "and I will guess that you have tales of Frigga and Freya and Idun and the other goddesses, tales that have grown among you here, and were never heard in your ancestors' home in the stars. This is your world, after all, and myths have grown here to fit it."
"Do you say that stories take on lives of their own?" Korlan asked, frowning.
"They most definitely do," Gar said, "and I've learned that no border and no army can keep out a myth."
When the sun was well up and the giants had talked through the meaning of the Great Monad to the point where all could accept their dreams, Gar rose. "I must thank you all for your hospitality, but I must also be on the road again."
Alea rose with him, saying, "I thank you, too." Then to Riara and Isola, "I will never forget what you have taught me." The giant woman looked down at her with blank stares, then smiled. "I'm glad of that," said Isola, "but I didn't know we had taught you anything."
"You have taught me that women deserve respect," Alea told them, "and that may change my life."
The women stared in surprise, and Orla said, "Then I am glad indeed you stayed the night with us." She held out a sack scarcely bigger than her hand, but Alea had to strain to hold it up when she took it. "There is cheese and bread there," Orla told her, "and some smoked pork, as well as some slices from last night's roast."
"Ale,." Garlon said, handing a huge wineskin to Gar. "If you can't trust the water, you can always trust this."
"I shall drink all your healths with it," Gar promised as he slung it over his shoulder and turned to Alea to ask "Will you join me in the toast?"
"Of course!" Alea exclaimed. Then, quickly, "Though I won't drink as much as Orla would."
The giants laughed at that, and Gar with them.
"The dwarves have far-talkers, too," Korlan said. "Shall we call and tell them you are coming?"
"Thank you, but I'd rather you didn't," Gar said. "Midgarders might be listening, reason out what paths we take, and set an ambush for us."
Alea's blood ran cold at the thought.
"Our ancestors began to use the fartalker three hundred years ago," Korlan said, frowning, "and never since the first days have we heard them talking on our kind of device. There is another sort that we use for listening to them, but we do not talk-we know they will not answer. It only works near the border, anyway."
"Within line of sight." Gar nodded. "I suspect they use FM, while you use AM--far better for long distances. Still, if you listen to their talk, they may be listening to yours. A giant army might take the chance, but two of us alone would not."
"Even as you say." Korlan didn't seem surprised at the idea. "Still, at least take this." He held out a rolled sheet of parchment half as long as Gar's torso. "It is a letter to the dwarves, telling that you have been our guests, and good guests. It should bring you safely to Nibelheim without need for a fight."
"At least with the dwarves," Riara reminded them. "Midgarder hunters and bandits are another matter."
"And I do not think the dog packs and pigs know how to read," Garlon said, grinning. "Take care, my friends, and may your road be safe!"
"Thank you all, thank you deeply," Gar said, looking around at them with glowing eyes. "I shall remember you all my life with happiness. I hope that we shall meet again some day."
"Until then, fare well," Korlan rumbled.
"Aye, fare you well," Orla said, holding down a huge hand to Alea.
Somehow, though, the smaller woman found herself hugging the young giant around the waist, burying her cheek in the rough cloth of her tunic and fighting back tears. "Oh, fare you well!" she gasped.
Orla stood amazed a moment, then put one huge hand gently against Alea's back. "We shall see one another again some day, little sister. May Dumi guard your journey."
"May Frigga guard your staying!" Alea gasped, stepping back.
Then, finally, they were walking down the road out of the village, turning back now and again to wave to the giants, some atop the walls, some standing outside the gates, hands raised as though in blessing.
"I wish we could stay," Alea said around the lump in her throat, "but I know we can't."
"No," Gar agreed. "We aren't really giants, after all."
"Tell that to the Midgarders!" Alea said bitterly. She welcomed the return of her bitterness-it dried up her tears. "More to the point," Gar said thoughtfully, "tell it to the Jotunheimers. Why were we welcome here, when the giants near the border didn't even offer us a night's lodging?"
It was a good question. Alea thought it over for a moment, then guessed, "Perhaps because it was near the border, and they couldn't trust anyone who might have been a Midgarder?"
"A good reason," Gar said, nodding. "It also might be that here in the North Country, where villages are few and far between, folk depend on one another and grow hungry for the sight of new faces." -
"Human life is cheap in Midgard," Alea said, relishing her bitterness, "but it's dear, here in the North. Is that what you mean?"
"Something like that, yes," Gar agreed. "Now, if only their stories could make the Midgarders realize the value of human life, too.. . ."
Alea interrupted, impatient with him. "You have an uncommon amount of faith in the power of stories!"
"I believe there is goodness inside most human beings, though in some, it is buried quite deeply," Gar returned; "and a really good story can reach that goodness."
"Most?' " Alea caught the qualification and returned it. "Not all?"
"I have met a few people in whom I couldn't find any trace of goodness," Gar said. "I think something may have gone wrong inside them even before they were born-but whatever the reason, whatever was good or humane in them had been burned out."
Alea shuddered, and hoped she never met such a person. Then it occurred to her that perhaps she already had.
They turned their steps eastward, across the top of Midgard toward Nibelheim. They began each day with combat practice, and Gar showed Alea how to deal with two antagonists attacking her at once. It was rather clumsy, since he had to jump about trying to take the places of both, but they practiced day after day until Alea could run the drill smoothly and without thinking. Then Gar showed her how to deal with three, then with four.
"What do I do once I have all four down?" she asked him. "Run as fast as you can," Gar told her. "You can take them by surprise once, but a second time, they'll be ready, cautious, and canny."
Alea went cold inside at the thought. "All right, I'll run. What do I do if they follow?"
"Hide if you can, fight if you can't. Choose the best ground you can before you're completely exhausted," Gar told her, "ideally, a place so narrow they can only come at you one at a time. Then fight-but only if you have to. Remember, the woman is always at a disadvantage, so run if you can, and fight if you can't."
Alea decided she had a
lso better pray to Dumi.
Gar had begun to teach her how to fight five when the bandits attacked.
They were walking through a birch forest. The trees were wide apart, with little or no growth between them, so they could see a fair way around themselves. The bandits took them completely by surprise, dropping from boughs and leaping out from behind the few thick trunks with bloodthirsty howls. "Back to back!" Gar snapped. "Run if you get the chance!"
"Run to where?" Alea cried. _ Then the bandits were on them.
She heard cracks and howls behind her, and grunts of pain from Gar, but she could scarcely pay attention because of the swinging quarterstaves with grinning, lascivious, unshaven faces behind them. A staff swung down at her from the left; she parried it with the tip of her own, but the impact nearly wrenched the stick from her hands and left them aching. She didn't have time to worry about pain; she kicked the man in the knee as she fended off another strike from the right, then swung the end of her staff into the stomach of the man charging from the front. She reversed, spinning the top of her staff up to block his stroke, and a strike from the left sent pain through her head, making the world swim about her. She fell to her knees, heard shouts of triumph, and swung her staff up to the left, felt it jar against something that shouted in pain, then swung it above her head to the right. Another man grunted, and the world stopped swimming long enough for her to see three attackers writhing on the ground around her, but a fourth and fifth stepped over them. She struggled to her feet, holding her staff up to guard, still unsteady-and the bandit to her left swung like a windmill. The two staves met with a sound like a thundercrack, whipping Alea's staff out of her hands to bounce away across the ground.
The bandit on the right shouted victory and stepped in, his staff swinging around at her belly.
12
Alea seized his leg the way Gar had shown her, digging her fingers in and pushing. The man fell, screaming. She let him go and turned to the other man, who charged her full tilt, swinging his staff down to choke her. She fell back, catching the staff and drawing her legs up, then pushed hard with her legs as she pulled with her hands. The man went somersaulting over her head with a howl of surprise, letting go of his staff. Alea used it to push herself to her feet and looked about her, wild-eyed and panting-and saw all five of her assailants on the ground, three curled around pain and moaning, two straggling to their feet.
Run! her panic screamed inside her-but it screamed in Gar's voice, and one glance showed her that he was still beset, whirling his staff one-handed, half a dozen outlaws on the ground before him-but another half-dozen still confronted him, and two had bows. If either of them gained a shot at his back, he was dead.
She couldn't leave his back unguarded. She turned to face her attackers, her back to Gar's, even though every sense of caution within her screamed at her for a fool.
The two who managed to struggle to their feet stalked about her, staves up and ready, bruises purpling on one man's face, both breathing hard and glaring harder. Her heart went faint; she remembered Gar saying, The second time, they'll be ready. But she held her ground, on guard and waiting-and waiting, and waiting. Neither man seemed eager to strike. Finally she realized that each was waiting for the other; then he would finish what his partner had begun.
At last they thought to look at one another. Both nodded, and they turned to Alea, sticks swinging back.
They were wide open. She lunged, stick straight out, butt jabbing one in the belly. He doubled over in pain, mouth wide in a shout he had no breath for. She snapped her whole body back to guard, turning to the last attacker. He froze, stick high, then realized he was unguarded and yanked his stick back in front of him.
"Hold!" a voice shouted, and it wasn't Gar's.
Her attacker froze, still on guard, but looking relieved. Alea risked a glance behind her, turned back in time to see the bandit raising his stick to strike. He saw her eyes and froze-but she had seen a man with a sword, shield, and iron cap facing Gar and looking indignant. He was almost as tall as Gar. The shortest of them was as tall as Alea.
"We struck you with a dozen, and you've beaten down ten of us!" the bandit chief exclaimed in injured tones. "How in Hela's name have you done that?"
Alea shuddered at his invoking of the Queen of the Dead. "Not by Hela, but by Thor and Dumi," Gar said, sounding mild. "I'll be glad to teach you. If you'd like another lesson, swing! "
There was a pause. Panting, Alea locked glares with the bandit-but two of his mates staggered to their feet with the aid of their staves, giving her poisoned looks.
"No, I'll seek a more peaceable way." The bandit leader sounded as though he would dearly have loved to beat Gar's brains out, but was forcing himself to be placating. "No one's ever proved himself so strong a fighter as you-and I've never seen a woman fight at all!" He didn't sound happy about it. "Except a giant's woman, that is."
"Aren't we giants?" Gar asked, still mildly.
"No, but we're a far sight better than the Midgarders!" the man said, with such bitterness that it startled even Alea. Then he forced his voice to mildness. "Come home with us and pass the night as a pledge of peace, for we must honor a fighter like you."
"Why, thank you," Gar said smoothly. "We'll be pleased." Alea stepped back so that her shoulders jarred against his, leaned her head back, and hissed, "Are you mad?"
"Yes," Gar hissed back. Then to the bandit leader, "I need some guarantee of our safety. What's your name?"
"Zimu," the man said warily. "Why?"
"Because I'm a wizard, and once I know your name, I can use it to work magic that will hurt you."
Alea spun to stare at him, then looked quickly at Zimubut the man was glaring at Gar with anger and fear. Then she remembered to look back at her opponent, but he was busy staring, too.
"I'll give you some chance of evening the odds," Gar told Zimu. "My name is Gar."
The bandit leader relaxed, still frowning, "Then I can work magic against you."
"If you're a wizard, yes." Suddenly Gar's voice took on a weird tone and the rhythm of an incantation. "Zimu, Zimu, tell me the names of your men!"
Zimu's eyes glazed. "There's Bandi, Cuthorn, Dambri . . ." He gestured at each as he spoke the name, listing the whole dozen before one of them shouted, appalled, "Chief!"
Zimu shook himself, his eyes clearing, then glared at Gar. "How did you do that?"
"If you have twenty years to learn, I can teach you," Gar said, "if you have the talent. Well, I can be sure we'll be safe among you now. So thank you for your invitation, Bandi, Cuthorn, Dambri.. . ." He chanted the list of names. Even the men who were only now staggering to their feet looked up in alarm-to find Gar looking straight at them as he spoke their names. They shuddered and looked away.
". . . and Zimu," Gar finished. He gave a slight bow, seeming to lean on his staff. "We'll be glad to dine with you."
"Well, then, you're welcome," Zimu said with poor grace. "Woman, gather wood as you come! We'll need a big fire if we're to celebrate guests."
Alea stared at him in outrage. No giant would ever have spoken to a woman like that!
"She gathers no wood, and carries only her own pack." Gar's hand hovered over her shoulder, and only the two of them knew that he didn't really touch her. "She is my shieldmaiden."
"I don't see any shield," Zimu growled, eyeing them suspiciously.
"She is herself my shield," Gar explained.
Alea had to fight the impulse to look up at him in surprise, and scolded herself for the warmth that spread through her at his words.
"You had better treat her kindly," Gar went on, "for when she dies, she will become a Valkyrie, and if you lie dead on a battlefield, she'll ignore you if you've treated her ill."
Alea knew he was only making up a story, but still her heart leaped. To become a Valkyrie when she died! But surely all Gar's teaching couldn't accomplish that.
The bandits kept their distance as they led the way deeper into the forest. It gave Alea
a chance to step closer to Gar and hiss, "This is the height of stupidity! In their own camp, they can beat us senseless and do with us as they will!"
"They won't dare," Gar whispered back, "and I have to learn what the outlaws are like, how they live, if I'm to have any hope of bringing peace to this land."
Alea stared at him for a full minute, then said, "You really mean it, don't you? You're actually going to try to free the slaves and make peace!"
"I really do," Gar said gravely. "A person has to have something to do in this life, after all, some reason to live, and this is mine."
"What's the matter with a wife and children?" Alea jibed. "Only that the wife is so obstinate she refuses to be found," Gar answered. "The children are difficult to manage withbut her."
Looking into his eyes, Alea saw a bleakness and a hunger that made her look away. "Can you really protect us against them?"
"Oh, yes," Gar assured her, "as long as I stay awake-but what's more important is that I have them convinced that I can."
A Wizard In Midgard Page 15