The Reckoning of Asgard

by James Malcolm Elrick

  But as the Vorpal Blade stabbed murderously towards Frederick’s chest, it stopped mid-air as if hitting an invisible barrier.

  Frederick thanked Odin under his breath while Amaliji cursed his misfortune. And Mage.

  “Where are you, ogre?” demanded Amaliji. “I recognize your foul magic anywhere.”

  Mage mumbled an incantation and the torches nearest him flared, throwing bright light around him.

  “Your fight is with me, elf king,” growled Mage.

  Amaliji barked a laugh. “Our fight will have to be delayed,” he said. “And I will need to better prepare for it. Perhaps if I wore Graydon Armor, then your magic would not be so powerful. Now, for the child.”

  With his free hand, Amaliji punched Frederick hard in the face, knocking him unconscious.

  “As I thought,” said Amaliji, “your invisible wall only defends against magic, not against physical force. Just as you ogre struck me through the invisible wall, I have now struck down this Midgardian king.”

  Amaliji stepped over Frederick’s prostrate body and opened the door.

  And from inside the room a loud scream emerged.

  Amaliji lifted off the ground and as another scream from inside the room was heard, he was thrown backwards with such force that when he struck the wall the sound of bones breaking could easily be heard. He slid to the floor and with a great deal of effort sat on his knees.

  His face was pale as he looked back inside the room.

  There, in her robe, stood Queen Astrid, one arm outstretched towards him.

  Weakly, Amaliji said: “Have I come so far, only to be defeated?”

  Mage now stood beside the elf king. Said: “You are dying, Amaliji. Have you any last wishes before I end your life?”

  Amaliji managed to raise his eyes to meet Mage’s. Then: “I wish to gaze just once upon the face of the Sorceress.”

  Mage scoffed. “You just did,” he said, “breaking my vow you would never gaze upon her.”

  Shocked, the elf king could only mutter: “The queen, impossible. The Sorceress was to be the child, not the mother.”

  “That is the problem with prophecies,” said Mage, “they can be made so long ago that the priests and wizards who made them have a hard time piercing the fog of the future. So, they may catch a glimpse, but they will not see everything. And so the prophecy is partially true. The Sorceress is born.”

  Amaliji chuckled. “Broken at the end by the hand of the Sorceress,” he said. “That was not prophesized.”

  Mage picked the Vorpal Blade up off the ground. “Die by my hand,” he said. Mage raised the sword above his head. Then: “For my wife and daughter.”

  With no further ceremony he brought the Vorpal Blade down with such terrific force on Amaliji’s neck that the sword cut cleanly through bone and muscle and stuck in the stone floor so deeply that it took five guards later to pull it forth.

  Once the head stopped bouncing on the ground, the elf king’s dead lifeless eyes stared back at Mage.

  CHAPTER 48

  Gunghir Sister-Spear

  The Knights Stable swam in to Farling’s view. As always, he fought the urge to retch. “Arastead,” he said, “by Odin’s beard you must make those jumps from place to place easier.”

  Grum laughed. Said: “Farling, you must just grow a stronger stomach. Those jumps just make me hungry.”

  The peal of temple bells could easily be heard.

  “What are those for—” started Farling.

  Grum clapped. “A child is born to the Queen!” he cried.

  “You mean the Sorceress,” stated Farling.

  “No,” replied Grum, “The Sorceress did not have a child. It is the queen, our Queen Astrid, who has had the Sorceress child.”

  Farling merely shook his head in disbelief.

  “But we left Mage to battle the elf king,” said Arastead. “What if he fails? The elf king will surely try to kidnap the child if he kills Mage.”

  “If he kills Mage,” said Farling. “If.”

  “Right, if,” said Arastead. “Margret, what do you see? Do you see Mage defeating the elf king?”

  Margret’s eyebrows furrowed. “I see nothing, there is too much magic in the air.” She said. “It clouds what I can see.”

  “Then we must make our way to the castle,” said Arastead. “If Mage is defeated, we must be the last line of defense for queen and child.”

  “The castle is full of guards,” said Margret. “She is well protected. The elf king is one against many.”

  “You know that not to be true,” said Farling. “Yes, he is one against many, but he wields the Vorpal Blade, which makes him near impossible to defeat. I am with Arastead: we must make our way with great haste to the castle. The queen and child must be protected at all costs.”

  Margret laughed. “Do you hear yourselves?” she demanded. “Even if Amaliji kills Mage, he must then kill Astrid. You remember what she did to those assassins. They were as chipmunks fighting a mother bear. She mopped the floor with them. And even if Amaliji manages somehow to kill Astrid and kidnap her newborn child, what then? The child must come of age before she may wield the full awesome power of the Sorceress. And that will take years. We have a more pressing engagement.”

  “With the Norns?” said Farling.

  Margret nodded as she said: “Yes, blacksmith, with the Norns. Do you fear them?”

  Farling grit his teeth. Then: “I have fought demons and frost giants and the troll-king, Grendel. I fear nothing. But I fear the Norns. Why persist in your fight against them? They are invincible.” Farling spread his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. “They are the Norns. We are but pieces of string to them, to be played with, like a cat plays with string. And, when done, to be cut and removed from the Tapestry.”

  “But they killed Nas,” said Margret, “and for that, I will make them pay.”

  “But the assassins guild killed Nas, not the Norns,” said Farling.

  “No, the assassins followed the Norns. They acted on the directions given to them by the Norns. I will make the Norns pay for what they did to Nas.”

  Arastead interjected: “Do you really believe Queen Astrid and her child are safe?”

  “I believe—no, I know they are,” she replied as she tapped her circlet.

  Farling sighed in relief. “Then we follow you and we make the Norns pay for what they did to Nas,” he said.

  CHAPTER 49

  An Unannounced Visit

  “Unexpected visitors, always my favorites.”

  “We do apologize for the unannounced visit, King Jakobus,” said Margret. “Events I feel are coming to a head and there is no time for ceremony.”

  Margret, Farling, Grum, and Arastead had been brought to a great dwarf hall. Surrounding them were a great number of dwarves, including the lord of the mountain.

  “And which events would these be,” said Jakobus.

  “The elf king battles Ogre Mage and Queen Astrid has given birth to the Sorceress,” said Margret.

  Jakobus stopped what he was doing. And even though he did not turn towards her, Margret knew she now had his full attention.

  “There is only one reason you would visit me,” he said.

  “There are many reasons we would visit you, but there is only one reason right now why we would visit you.”

  “I do like you, Princess Margret of Aarlund.” His eyes bore into hers. “Which is why I will not give you Gunghir Sister-Spear.”

  Margret coughed she was so surprised at his response.

  “King Jakobus,” she began, “the realms are in danger. Gunghir Sister-Spear will help us find Odin’s fabled spear. With Gunghir, we ensure the safety of all the realms.”

  “How?” demanded Jakobus. “My realm is now awake and it is now safe. You think too highly of Midgard, as did the old Norse gods. There are many realms besides yours.”

  “The Sorceress will one day destroy Yggdrasil and kill the Midgard Serpent,” said Margret. “Without those two might
y things holding the realms together there are no more realms.”

  “The dwarf-realm would survive that cataclysm,” replied Jakobus.

  Margret shook her head. Said: “There has already been one great battle, years ago, when Asgard fell. It is only because a few of the old gods have woken that the dwarf-realm too was woken. You may despise the old Norse gods but you owe them a debt.”

  “You had best be careful where you tread with your words, princess,” said Jakobus. “We served Odin for years, and how did he treat us? Like garbage, like refuse, something to throw away, bury, forget. He stunted us, misshaped us to make us better miners and blacksmiths. But he kept our women and daughters beautiful to remind us of what we once had. But even that beauty came at a price.”

  Farling interjected: “Yes, Loki’s kiss.”

  Jakobus howled: “The Trickster! How I hate him. I cut his head off and yet he lives. But that is still not enough. Even my loathing of Loki will not make me part with Gunghir Sister-Spear. I will need that spear to defend my realm if the day comes.”

  Margret said: “What if I told you I could cure your princess’s heart? The one broken by Loki. I could remove her memories of him, make her forget. That will cure her broken heart.”

  Jakobus stopped as the anger drained out of him. “Is it possible?” he asked. “That other Midgardian, the priest from some poor temple, he said he could do nothing.”

  “His skills differ from mine,” said Margret. “I removed the dark demon poison from Queen Astrid. I removed the cobwebs from one of the Aarlund brother’s minds, which were giving him unbearable pain and suffering. I can stop the suffering of your princess. I will find the webs of memories in her mind that remember the Trickster. And with the greatest of care, I will burn away those memories like a candle to a spider’s thread.”

  Jakobus nodded. “And if you do, you may have Gunghir Sister-Spear, that I promise you,” he said.

  CHAPTER 50

  The Dwarf Princess

  Margret was led to a large room filled with dwarf women. Although, even had she not been told, she would not have known these women were of the dwarf race. There were tall, taller than the dwarf men, and the height of an average woman from Aarlund or Dennland. And while some of the features were dwarf-like, she would not have noticed unless she had looked really hard. The shape of the eyes of the women were similar to the men, and most had defined jaw lines, and were strong of limb. The ages of the women varied, some young some old, but Margret had no way of knowing their true ages.

  Their clothing was plain, simple dresses, held together around their waists by unadorned leather belts. But each woman wore a dazzlingly array of jewelry, from rings, necklaces, earrings, and bracelets. As they moved, even barely, the jewelry jangled ever so softly, and when all the women moved, the sound was like music, soothing to the ear. Margret thought it was like the sound water made as it ran over rocks and stones.

  An elderly looking women approached and held out her hand. Margret took her hand and the woman led her into the circle of women.

  In the middle, hidden from view, was one of the more stunning dwarf women Margret had seen. Her hair was as yellow as straw, her skin pale as milk, her features delicate yet strong. But it was her eyes that held Margret, as her eyes were as blue as the sky.

  “Princess of Aarlund, welcome to Nidavellir,” said the dwarf princess in a soft yet authoritative voice. “I trust you are enjoying your stay.”

  “I am, princess. The dwarves know great hospitality.”

  “Am I to understand you have met Loki?”

  “I have.”

  “And what did you think?”

  “Well, his clothes were not very fashionable, unfortunately, but what can one expect when he had only recently stopped being a statue.”

  “You jest, but did you not think him handsome?”

  “I did not think anything as before I knew it, King Jakobus had cut off Loki’s head. It was only after King Jakobus had left, that Loki’s body found the severed head, and reattached it. He did complain he would have a sore neck for quite a while.”

  The dwarf princess tittered politely behind a raised hand. “Loki is quite funny. I did not know he could lose his head and not die. But he is an old Norse god and so has great powers.”

  “You know your king has asked me to help you forget Loki?”

  Slowly, the dwarf princess nodded, her eyes downcast. “My king worries about me, worries I think only of Loki, worries I get lost in my thoughts about him, and so do not live in this realm any more. He worries I waste away from a broken heart. Can you help me? Can you help me forget?”

  Margret nodded.

  “Will it hurt?” asked the dwarf princess.

  Margret shook her head.

  “Now,” began Margret, “please be seated. I am going stand behind you, and gently touch your temples, like this. I need you to relax, and I want you to think of Loki, so that I can more easily find your memories of him.”

  The dwarf princess took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I remember the first time I met him,” she said. “Immediately, I was taken by him. So handsome, I thought. But a Norse god, an Aesir, he would never be interested in me. And so when he found me later, after it turns out he had stolen the dwarf crown, and kissed me, ever so gently and romantically, not like the rough kisses from those dwarf boys, my heart belonged to him, and I was his. And even though we never spoke again after that, and soon after the dwarf realm slept, even in my dreams, for we still sometimes dreamt when the realm slept, he was in my thoughts. Perhaps if the dwarf realm had not slept so soon after the kiss, I may not have become so enamored with him. I would have been distracted with other things, and so would have forgotten him naturally. But I have not, and seem incapable of forgetting. His lips…”

  The elderly handmaiden asked: “What of his lips, princess?”

  Margret stepped away from the dwarf princess, hands by her sides.

  “I am sorry,” said the dwarf princess to her handmaiden. “Why do we talk about lips?”

  The elderly handmaiden nodded to Margret and said with a smile: “I will tell King Jakobus it is done.”

  CHAPTER 51

  The Frost Giants Tricked

  “Must you leave so soon?” asked Jakobus. “I feel as if you just arrived.”

  “I agree with King Jakobus,” said Grum. “I am sure there is a feast somewhere in this great realm. Some lord of some mountain must have found some excess food they must serve before it spoils.”

  Margret held Gunghir Sister-Spear in one hand. Said: “I fear we must be rude, King Jakobus and beg your forgiveness. I thank you for your gift. It will be returned.”

  “And I thank you for your gift,” said Jakobus. “My princess seems much happier now and for that I am grateful.”

  Margret nodded. “I understand a great shipment of wood from the destroyed Heart Tree has been delivered to your realm,” she said.

  Jakobus grinned. “My blacksmiths and artisans will make great art and weapons with the wood,” he said.

  “That is good as it was a most difficult fight,” said Margret. “I am glad the wood is still malleable enough for your dwarves to work with.”

  “It is, Princess Margret,” said Jakobus. “Now, my soothsayers tell me I should not hold you any longer. I wish you well on your quest. Blacksmiths, you as well. A shame you did not win the competitions against the frost giants, but it sounds as if they cheated more effectively than you.”

  At this, Jakobus let out a huge roar of a laugh. Then: “And if those frost giants expect an enchanted sled any time soon for winning at those games, they have been drinking too much of their honey mead.” And he laughed again.

  Farling grinned. “Well, I am glad you are not angry with us,” he said. “It was a disappointment losing those matches, but we were outmaneuvered by their trickery.”

  “Well,” said Jakobus, “I am glad the magic of the rings helped you so that you did not lose too badly.”

  Ar
astead said: “They were close matches. And it sounds as if we put some concern in King Thrymr’s mind about invading Midgard.”

  “It is not Midgard he craves,” said Jakobus shaking his head, “but Asgard. For the realm of Odin may still exert a power over the other realms, if someone knows how to wield it.”

  “Princess,” interjected Farling. “We must return. We do not yet know the outcome of the battle between Ogre Mage and the elf king. We might be needed. And now that you wield Gunghir Sister-Spear, it might prove useful.”

  “Agreed,” said Margret. “I wish you and your princess well, King Jakobus.”

  Jakobus shook hands with Margret. “And I, you,” he said.

  “Let us leave by the Midgard Gateway,” said Farling. “I do not wish to feel ill when we arrive in Trondheim.”

  Grum shook his head. “And here I thought you Jordheimers were made of sterner stuff,” he said with a wink.

  CHAPTER 52

  Strange Allies

  “Welcome back to Midgard, Your Majesty, Princess Margret,” said Liulfr.

  Seeing the were-beasts, Farling reached for his sword, then remembered the were-beasts were, for the moment, allies, strange allies.

  Margret walked fast towards Trondheim Castle and everyone fell in step behind her, the were-beasts being the closest, while Farling, Grum, and Arastead kept a slight distance.

  “Liulfr,” said Margret, “do not address me as ‘Your Majesty’ as I am neither queen nor ruler. You may call me ‘princess’, or Margret in less formal settings.

  Liulfr grunted. “Fine, princess, but you should not let us out of your sight,” he growled.

  “I was with the blacksmiths,” she said. “I have fought with them before. They were trained by Ogre Mage and have enchanted weapons. With them I am safe.”

  Liulfr shook his head. “A larger entourage is needed by you, now that the assassins guild has been purged,” he said. “There still may be some assassins who were not caught in that slaughter, and if they know it is you who destroyed their guild, they will seek revenge.”