The Reckoning of Asgard

by James Malcolm Elrick

  “We do not know, nor do we know where their guild is located,” said Einar.

  At that moment, Frederick burst into the courtyard. “Where is she?” he demanded, fighting to catch his breath.

  “Your wife is safe, Your Majesty,” said Einar.

  Einar nodded to one of the young thieves, who briskly walked the king to the library.

  Arastead watched as the king left, making sure he was out of earshot before speaking: “We have also not yet discussed how the queen killed those four assassins. By herself I should add.”

  Pressan took off his glasses and cleaned them again, causing Grum to murmur: “Those must be the cleanest glasses in Midgard.”

  “It most surely was magic,” said Arastead. “And such an advanced magic by someone who has not had any lessons with Mage. I trained with Mage for weeks. My familiar strengthens my magic abilities. I have been told I am a strong wizard, but there is no possible way I could have defeated, nay killed, four assassins.”

  “Four highly trained assassins,” added Farling.

  Arastead nodded in agreement.

  Pressan, putting on his glasses, said: “I was pleased our Queen was unharmed by the attack. But I too am worried by her sudden ability to do powerful magic.”

  “It was the power of the Sorceress,” said Arastead. “Somehow, and we knew this, our queen has the ability to do magic because she carries a Sorceress child. But what I did not realize is the raw power of her magic. If that is a hint of the power a Sorceress wields, we had best make sure the unborn Dennland princess uses her magical gifts wisely.”

  “What of the assassins guild?” asked Farling. “The elves may periodically bring an elf or two to our realm, but it should be few and far between. Mage may even be able to do something to detect if a portal opens between Midgard and Alfheim. But the assassins guild, where is it? Will they attack again? How many still live?”

  “I believe Margret may be able to find the assassins guild,” said Pressan. “Her circlet gives her the abilities to detect and see through illusions. And if there are any illusions or enchantments hiding the guild, she will see through them.”

  Arastead nodded as he said: “In the morning, we talk to Mage, see if he knows a spell, one that will help us locate the guild.”

  “And then what do we do?” asked Grum. “Attack?”

  “No,” said Einar flatly. “I am tired of losing thieves. Frederick has more than enough knights and guards. We find the vipers nest. Frederick stamps it out.”

  ***

  “Again,” demanded Mage.

  Astrid nodded at the ogre and closed her eyes. She slowed her breathing, leveling it, concentrating on the next spell she was to cast.

  It had been several days since the assassins had tried to kill her. Frederick had done his best to prevent her from leaving the safety of the castle but after several days of quiet persuasion by Astrid, he changed his mind. It had been the fight at the thieves guild that had convinced him in the end. He knew Astrid was a powerful witch and he knew with her ability to channel that much magic, she needed training. And so he relented.

  Mage urged in his typical deep rumble: “Stop thinking about your husband.”

  Astrid sighed. She had been distracted, her thoughts had wandered, unbidden. How had Mage known?

  They trained in the thieves guild building, as hopefully no one, especially the elves, should be able to detect the power of the Sorceress. Several people watched, including Margret.

  Astrid opened her eyes and stared at Mage the way a queen quiets a rowdy crowd.

  Mage was not impressed or cowed. He merely crossed his arms and returned the gaze unflinching.

  “I cannot do magic,” she said. “At least, I cannot do magic when I want. When those assassins attacked, it was as if I was in a dream, almost as if someone else controlled my actions. Now, it is like I am too wide awake, not able to find the thread that connects me to the source of magic.”

  “It is different for you, I agree,” said Mage. “Typically, when someone shows any talent at channeling magic from Yggdrasil or the Midgard Serpent, they display it at a much younger age.”

  Astrid sniffed disdainfully. “I am not that old that I am unable to learn new things,” she said.

  “Agreed. Perhaps I am going about this training the wrong way. I train people who were born able to connect to Yggdrasil or the Midgard Serpent. You, however, Your Majesty, were not born with this ability. Your daughter will be, but it is foreign to you. You seem to connect more on instinct, almost unbidden, like this.”

  With his great fists Mage struck at Astrid.

  In the fraction of a heartbeat Astrid’s eyes blackened with magic, her arms raised in protection. Her eyes closed and a cry escaped her lips as Mage’s fist struck. And when she opened her eyes a moment later, she gasped.

  Mage was lying on his back, a great distance away. He was not moving.

  Margret ran to Mage’s side to see if he needed assistance. Astrid breathed a small sigh of relief as she could see that Mage was unhurt enough to talk with Margret. She hoped his injuries were not serious.

  Mage rolled over onto his hands and knees and laboriously rose to his feet. He leaned a little too heavily on Margret’s shoulder as she grunted under the burden of his weight.

  “Just as I suspected,” said Mage as he approached Astrid, “your ability to perform magic is rooted in instinct. It is as if you were not even aware you perform magic.”

  “Are you well, Master Ogre?” asked Astrid worriedly.

  “I have had the wind knocked out of me before. It is not the last time. But it is getting more difficult the older I get. Now, about your magic, I would say it will be more important than ever that you learn how to control it when it does take over. With time, you should be able to notice how you channel your magic and you should be able to do it on your own, without anyone attacking you. Perhaps that is enough for today. Same time tomorrow, Your Majesty?”

  Astrid nodded in agreement, hiding a small grin as Mage limped away.

  CHAPTER 15

  Return of the Were-beasts

  Farling asked: “Any luck finding the assassins guild?”

  “Not yet, Farling,” replied Arastead as he polished the shield on which he was working in the forge.

  “So, Margret was not able to detect the guild using her magic, you were not able to detect the guild, and neither could Mage. No spell worked.”

  Grum shoved a sword into the water bath. Steam hissed. “We could just ask around,” he said feeling the steam on his face.

  Farling stopped what he was doing. Said: “I do not think assassins advertise where they live.”

  “Well, if you wanted to hire an assassin, how would you?” asked Grum.

  Farling shook his head as he said: “No one has thought of hiring an assassin because everyone thought the assassins guild was a myth, a legend. Besides, anyone who wants someone killed usually confronts that person and asks them to fight.”

  Arastead interjected: “Assassins were the choice of the elite. Barons, kings, those types of people were the only ones who had the amount of coin required to hire an assassin. They did not come cheaply. I heard once they may have even been used to kill wizards.”

  “What!” exclaimed Grum, as he began reheating the sword in the hot coals. He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Do you mean assassins were used by wizards against other wizards?”

  “Wizards had their own guild,” said Arastead. “But even within the guild, there were factions. The master held his post tenuously.”

  “And here I thought wizards were all nice and sweet,” said Grum. “Good to hear they are human.”

  “Odin was always bored,” said Arastead. “Watching wizards fight kept him entertained.”

  “How do you suddenly know so much about the wizards?” asked Farling.

  “Mostly from Peg,” replied Arastead. “I dream of stories, old stories of the wizards that Peg knows.”

  “Stories that do not a
ppear to be written down,” said Farling. “It is as Grum said, wizards were not all nice and sweet. That is news.”

  “Chaos magic can be used to destroy or create,” said Arastead. “Some wizards were more interested in the destructive aspects; others, more interested in the creative.”

  “And you?” asked Farling.

  Arastead smiled. Said: “There is a time for creative and there is a time for destruction. What—”

  Peg hissed loudly, her hair on end.

  Arastead dropped the shield and reached for his quarterstaff. Peg jumped to his shoulders, her eyes flashing eldritch green. Farling grabbed a sword from the wall, as did Grum.

  In the entrance of the forge stood four young men. One was big and had a bear-like appearance. The next was smaller in stature and twitched his face like a rat. The third was thin, eyes feline in appearance. And the last sniffed the air and when he smiled, his teeth were as a wolf’s.

  Grum spat: “Were-brothers.” He grabbed a sword. “And here we thought you had slunk away like cowards.”

  Several alley cats lingered near the were-cat, Kees, rubbing themselves against his legs, purring. A large dog paced back and forth behind Liulfr, while a rat crawled out from Asbjorn’s shirt and peered at everyone. Fortunately, no bear was near Beornheard.

  Liulfr asked: “Farling, do you not recognize us?”

  Farling walked closer. “I thought I recognized you the first time I saw you in Pitcairn,” he began, “but I cannot place you.”

  “You beat us with your fists in Jordheim,” said Liulfr.

  Farling chuckled, now recognizing them. “You were mean to my brother,” he said.

  “Was just some harmless fun.”

  “Well, I know I had fun beating up all four of you.”

  Beornheard grunted and took a step forward. Liulfr put a hand out stopping him.

  Grum said: “You four do not look as big as you used to. You were-beasts used to be more ‘were’.”

  Kees purred: “We could still beat the three of you to a pulp.”

  “I would like to see you try,” said Grum holding his sword menacingly.

  Arastead intervened, said: “Hold your weapons.” But when no one moved, he tapped his quarterstaff hard on the ground and mumbled a spell. Everyone’s arms dropped limply by their sides.

  “Wait,” said Grum, as his weapon fell from listless fingers, “Arastead, you were meant to make them drop their weapons.”

  Arastead shrugged: “They had no weapons in their hands,” he said.

  “You could have made them drop their rat or something,” said Grum.

  With his sword also on the ground, Farling crossed his arms. “Like I said, you four do not look as big as you used to,” he said.

  Liulfr shrugged. Said: “Alchemist made only so many potions for us to maintain our were-beast abilities. And as Alchemist is still being held hostage in Jotunheim, we are unable to replenish our supplies. Without our potions, we return to our normal human forms.”

  Grum demanded: “Why should we help you?”

  “Because we can help you,” said Liulfr. “But we require something in return.”

  Arastead shook his head, then said: “We do not need your help.”

  “I would disagree,” said Liulfr. “Our cats and rats have been skulking about for many days. I understand you are looking for a certain guild.” His voice dropped. “One filled with assassins.”

  “We are unable to find that guild,” said Farling. “Why do you think you will be able to?”

  “Magic cannot find it, but like any prey, assassins have a scent that can be followed,” said Liulfr.

  “So where is the guild?” asked Farling.

  “First, you must agree to help us,” said Liulfr.

  “I cannot make potions,” said Arastead. “I do not have that type of magic training yet.”

  “No, but Nas might,” said Liulfr. “And Ogre Mage could probably help.”

  Farling said: “I see your cat and rats make excellent spies.”

  “Few can hide from their eyes and ears,” said Liulfr. “Not even you, which is how we found this forge so easily.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Loki and Yorli

  Loki and Yorli gathered at a disused cottage on the far reaches of Jotunheim where he presented her with the enchanted weapons he had stolen from Farling and Grum. Yorli had reached the cottage by a sleigh pulled by two large polar bears, while Loki had simply arrived using portal rune magic.

  He said: “I assume this will please your father.”

  “He will be pleased,” she replied, “but will he be moved to the point he changes his mind about you? That is another matter entirely.”

  “We do not need your father to agree to our arrangement.”

  “Is that what you old Norse gods call it? An arrangement? I am surprised there was any romance at all in Asgard.”

  “Oh, there was romance aplenty, but none for me.”

  “No, I understand you had an interest in a certain dwarf princess.”

  “O ho, my secret laid bare upon the table.”

  “I will have you know I do not have a beard or moustache.”

  “Lady Yorli, you really do not know much about the dwarves. And I thank your father and mother that you do not have a beard. Still, even if you did, I could find myself in love with you.”

  “Oh-ho, is it now love of which you speak? I thought it was simply an arrangement.”

  “Love can be an arrangement.”

  “I assume then you are finished with the dwarf-women of Nidavellir?”

  “You need not phrase it as a question, as it is a statement. I am more than done with the dwarves. Besides, as I recall, it was not so much that I was interested in the dwarf-princess, but more that I enjoyed frustrating the dwarf-king. Those dwarves, so quick to anger; it is almost too easy.”

  He rubbed his neck where Jakobus’ axe had severed his head.

  “Loki, you must not anger my father as he too angers too quickly. And my brothers, keep your sharp tongue in your mouth where they are concerned as well.”

  “Am I to understand I will meet your father and brothers?”

  “That is not so much a question as a statement.”

  “I find myself discovering you more beautiful every time we meet.”

  “Careful, frost giants do not take compliments well. They take it a sign of weakness.”

  “If my falling in love with you is a weakness, then consider me weak.”

  Yorli shook her head. “You realize my father does have plans for me. There are many princes and other frost giants of the court who vie for my hand.”

  “Of course, your father must be thinking of how best to strengthen your hold on the throne. But what of your brothers? They are older, and they must be before you in line for the throne?”

  “Father thinks them dolts and only good for wrestling polar bears. Neither one of them knows a thing about ruling and protecting a realm.”

  “So, he chooses who succeeds him?”

  “The rules are different in every realm, I am quite sure. Yes, my father chooses, but I am only allowed to rule if clan leaders allow.”

  “And what if you marry an Aesir?”

  “Yes, about that, they will be none too pleased with that fact. But they will be pleased if you bring them the keys to Asgard.”

  “Well, I may be able to bring the keys, but holding Asgard is another matter.”

  “With the weapons you brought, the bane of the frost giants, it will be much harder for any to stand in our way.”

  “Yes, our way.”

  And Loki reached out and held Yorli’s hand and this time she did not flinch at his touch or pull away.

  CHAPTER 17

  King Cormac Tells a Tale

  “Welcome, Cormac, welcome to Trondheim.”

  “A pleasure to be here, Frederick.”

  The two kings shook hands, smiles on their faces.

  Cormac stood in one of the many halls in Trondhei
m Castle. Accompanying him were the four Aarlund brothers: Cruithni, Tuathail, Eithlenn, Airthear, and their nephew, Conall. Also in attendance were Nas, Margret, Mage, Farling, Grum, Arastead, Sihr, Einar, and Astrid.

  “My Lady Astrid,” greeted Cormac. “If I may say, you look more beautiful by the day.”

  “You are fortunate, Cormac,” said Astrid, as she absentmindedly rubbed her pregnant belly, “that my husband is not the jealous type.”

  Cormac grinned as he faced Mage. “As no one else looks surprised at the ogre standing in our midst, I assume then this is Ogre Mage of whom I have heard so much about,” he said.

  “King Cormac,” said Mage in his low, sonorous voice.

  “Mage,” replied Cormac as they shook hands. “Welcome to Midgard. I hope you are made welcome here.”

  “I am, King Cormac, and I thank you for your concern. Having trained your daughter in Alfheim and continuing to train her in Midgard helps bridge the change in venue.”

  “Yes, I will need to test my daughter soon, or have one of the Aarlund brothers test her, to see what a fierce warrior she has become.” He caught his daughter’s eye and they both winked.

  Frederick asked: “Now, what matter of business do we have today?”

  “Before business,” interrupted Cormac, “I bring a present.” He nodded at Tuathail, who pulled a spear out of the baggage on the ground.

  “King Frederick, I believe you are missing this,” said Cormac.

  “Gunghir Sister-Spear,” Cormac said as he grasped the spear mid-shaft and admired it once again. “But how?”

  Grum mumbled: “And here I thought we were to visit Pitcairn again. I guess that trip is on hold.” Arastead elbowed him to be silent.

  “We have been busy since we last parted,” began Cormac. “We finally visited Alchemist’s stronghold in Aarlund and made a grisly discovery: Aarlund warriors, their dead bodies strewn about the stronghold, but no dead enemies. And then we discovered what caused the destruction.”

  “What?” cried Grum.