The Reckoning of Asgard

by James Malcolm Elrick

  “A wise friend,” said Cormac. “Without his guidance, the Aarlund clans would never have come together. And because of him, there is peace between Dennland and Aarlund, something I never thought I would live to see.”

  “But what was with all the blue tattoos?” said Cruithni.

  “Does your mouth never close?” demanded Airthear.

  “You know it does not,” said Tuathail. “Even when he sleeps, he talks. He is exhausting.”

  Cruithni merely grinned at his brothers’ comments. Then: “No other druids had as many tattoos as old Nas. It was like there was a sale on tattoo ink and the druid elders thought they would buy the lot and put it all on Nas. They looked good, sure, also made him look fierce. I saw people run away when they glimpsed that tattooed head of his. He was one scary druid.”

  Conall said: “So, if Nas were here, do you think he would ask us to follow the ogre?”

  Cormac nodded. “I think if Nas were here,” he began, “he would not have asked us to follow the ogre, he would have ordered us.”

  “He did have that ability,” agreed Airthear. “Hush now, the lot of you. We approach the entrance to the thieves guild. Let us stay silent until we are in the guild. Cruithni, you especially, silence.”

  Cruithni merely shrugged his shoulders and nodded in agreement.

  The shops outside and along the alley that led to the entrance were busy with shoppers, but at the sight of Aarlunders, the crowd went silent.

  The brothers formed a protective circle about their king with Conall bringing up the rear. No weapons were drawn, but the brothers had unknowingly put on their fierce faces that brooked no debate. And no debate was found in the crowd as a path suddenly lay open before them.

  Once inside the store, they made their way to the back room, where the proprietor of the antique store, who also worked for the thieves guild, closed the thick drapes that separated the room, ensuring they were alone.

  Conall lifted the amulet that hung about his neck and pressed it against the far wall. A door materialized that they all walked through.

  ***

  “Why does everyone want this armor?”

  “Einar, you know why,” said Pressan as he cleaned his glasses.

  A great deal of food had been brought to the dining hall for the Aarlund contingent. Pressan apologized that they were not eating in the library as it was now too busy with people coming and going through the portal runes that connected the thieves guilds in Trondheim and Pitcairn. Pressan also mentioned how he missed his large desk.

  Einar said: “As far as I know, the elf necromancers are not very strong—”

  “Strong enough,” interrupted Pressan, “as they did make the Draugr.”

  “Point taken,” said Einar nodding in agreement, “and so the Graydon Armor will prove useful against them. Now, what financial compensation does this guild receive for loaning out the Graydon Armor?”

  Cormac cleared his throat. “I think this falls under royal prerogative,” he said. “That is, if a king wants something, that king will get it.”

  “I thought as much,” said Einar. “Then we will ask for a favor. What it is, I do not know at this moment. And when I will ask for this favor, that I do not know.”

  Cormac shook Einar’s hand. “Agreed.”

  “Then we have an accord,” said Einar.

  CHAPTER 67

  Tea in Trondheim

  Mage sat at a large table in Trondheim Castle. At his request, food and strong black tea were brought. He nibbled the food and sipped the tea as he waited for King Frederick and Queen Astrid to appear. After a while, he finished the food as no one had appeared. Servants were nervous when they served him and still looked nervous as they cleared away plates and cutlery. He nursed the mug of tea, wanting to do something as he waited.

  He knew the king and queen were busy. She had just had a child. He had just had his sword hand reattached. But even those personal changes and life changing events paled in comparison to what was occurring in the realm of Asgard.

  He finished his tea and called for more. He complimented the servant on the quality of the tea, causing her to blush. He marveled again at a person’s ability to change the color of their skin. Even under exertion, an ogre’s skin did not change hue or shade. As the servant walked back to the kitchen, Mage was reminded of the strange events that had brought him here.

  He had always known his wife and daughter were dead but had lied to himself, been in denial of their deaths. He had written those letters more to their memories as almost a diary to himself, documenting what he had done so that it would help him remember.

  Years ago, an elf army arrived at the ogre village. He heard rumors that the elf king was amassing control of Alfheim. Unruly lords brought to heel by one means or another. Some put to sword, their houses put under the elf king’s control. Other houses, upon hearing the fate of their friends, bended knee to the elf king.

  But the elf king had not been satisfied with bringing all the houses of Alfheim under his control. The land ruled by the ogres had always been far away from any elf house and so Mage had thought them safe from political machinations. What was it to the ogres if the elf king was becoming more dictatorial? The ogres always had strong relations with the closest elf lords as the ogres were able to provide them with materials the elves themselves could not source. The ogres had even fought for some of the lords, acting as mercenaries and hired sell-swords. The coin had been good, and the ogre village thrived.

  All changed when the elf army had appeared one day at the ogre village. They must have used portals to travel the great distance to take him by surprise. He had transported some ogres away, far away, far from the reaches of the elf king. Mage wondered as to their fate.

  All the captured ogre warriors had been shackled and enslaved, used as entertainment in the great fighting arena in the capital city of Alfheim. Over the years their number dwindled, but the group that remained were the toughest, most battle-hardened fighters. Mage trained them, taught them how to battle monsters. And those ogre warriors fought all sorts of beasts for the pleasure of the elves as the bones of the vanquished piled higher and higher outside the arena, bleaching in the unforgiving sun.

  With the news of the Sorceress, things changed dramatically in Alfheim. The elf king always kept Mage close, and now kept him even closer. The initial plan had been for the mighty elf army to stream through the open Midgard Gateway. It took time, but the elf king succeeded where all his fathers failed before; he found a sympathetic ear in Midgard, one who would do his bidding. And that minion, Alchemist, found a Heart Tree, the mythical tree that fed on blood. For it was the Unbreakable Barrier made of wizard’s blood that keep the Midgard Gateway sealed.

  Mage chuckled. In Alfheim, it was named the Midgard Gateway as it led from Alfheim to the realm of Midgard. But in Midgard, it was called the Alfheim Gateway, as it led from Midgard to the elf realm.

  And so the elves waited, waiting patiently for the Heart Tree to destroy the Unbreakable Barrier, so that the Midgard Gateway would be opened and the mighty elf army would stream through. The people of Midgard would have fallen as ripe wheat under their blades. It would have been a slaughter.

  Then the Sorceress had been created, but not yet born. The elf king now kept Mage alive to train the Sorceress as the elf necromancers would have been useless at that task.

  Once the Midgard Gateway was opened, the elf army was to march upon the city of Trondheim, where the Sorceress child would be given to the elves as tribute, or so the prophecy foretold. It would have then taken years, decades, to properly raise the Sorceress and train her in the arts of magic from Yggdrasil and the Midgard Serpent. And the elves would have used the Sorceress as a weapon, one that would have forced the other realms to bend knee to the elf kingdom.

  The elves would then take residence in Asgard as rulers of all the Norse realms. And the Norns would accept this, as the Sorceress would keep the Norns in check. The Norns may not have bent the knee to the e
lf king, but they would not have interfered with the elves for fear of the Sorceress.

  And then their great laid plans changed again.

  The Heart Tree had been destroyed and the Unbreakable Barrier had once again become unbreakable. And so the elf king shifted tactics. With the arrival of four Midgardians at the same time as the Midgard Gateway had been sealed, it had given the elf king an opportunity to distract his army.

  Mage had been impressed that the elf king had been able to keep his army under control. The Midgard Gateway had nearly opened and his army had been on a war footing. Somehow, he had been able to keep his army distracted once the Midgard Gateway had been sealed again. Still, the elf warriors were disciplined. They had waited hundreds of years to destroy Midgard; what were a few more years?

  It had been those four Midgardians that had taught Mage much about the people of their realm. Strong of spirit, quick to learn, good warriors all, he had been impressed how they had fought as a team against all monsters he had thrown against them. And the amount they had improved since he first sparred with them was impressive. And when they fought the troll-king Grendel, for a moment he had thought they defeated him.

  He remembered sparring with Princess Margret and smiled. It fascinated him how much that circlet improved her fighting abilities. Grum, with his eager fighting skills, and those items of magic that improved his strength were incredible. Farling, an excellent warrior and good tactician. And the wizard Arastead, his powers still growing, still untapped. And now with that ring the dwarves had forged, Mage could not fathom how much magic Arastead wielded.

  And Queen Astrid was the Sorceress. Mage had always thought that when Astrid had given birth, she would have lost all her magical abilities as they would have all gone in to her child. But he had been wrong. Everyone had been wrong. A Sorceress had been born, but she was no child. Instead, it was a strong woman who now wielded the magical abilities to pull and blend magic from Yggdrasil and the Midgard Serpent. While mature in age, she was young in magic. As any sorcerer, necromancer, mage, wizard, druid, illusionist, or wizard would tell you, wielding magic was easy to learn, but took a lifetime to master. Would Astrid the Sorceress now be able to do what was needed of her?

  Mage stood as Frederick and Astrid entered the room. “Your Majesties,” he said with a quick and formal bow.

  “I know this must be important,” said Frederick, “else you would not have asked for an audience.” Everyone sat at the table and more food and tea was immediately placed in front of them.

  “I will get right to the point,” started Mage. “Asgard is under attack. The realms of the elves, frost giants, and dwarves all believe the Norse gods weak and so wish to claim the city of Vanaheim as their own.”

  Both king and queen were suitably surprised at the news.

  Frederick said: “Are you suggesting the realm of Midgard should join the cause, defend Asgard?”

  “On the contrary,” said Mage. “The people of Midgard should stay in this realm to defend it. The Heroes of Midgard are already in Vanaheim.”

  Frederick grunted. Said: “Let me guess. Those three blacksmiths, the Paupers Temple priest, and Princess Margret.”

  Mage nodded. “And the three were-beasts,” he. Conveniently, Mage left out the part where King Cormac and the Aarlund brothers and their nephew would soon be joining the fight in Vanaheim. He knew if Frederick realized Cormac was fighting in Vanaheim, then he should as well. “I see by your shocked expressions you are surprised they are now on our side. As am I, but allegiances shift, and they are now loyal to Princess Margret and will defend her and her cause no matter who they battle.”

  Frederick said: “If the people of Midgard cannot defend Vanaheim against their enemies, at least I should be there to battle them.”

  Mage shook his head. “The realms have not seen this type of battle since the Last Battle when gods were destroyed, and realms ruined,” he said. “No, King Frederick, your sword is not needed in Asgard. You and the Vorpal Blade need defend Queen Astrid.”

  Astrid cleared her throat. Then: “Mage, you believe other assassins will be sent to kill me now that I am the Sorceress.”

  “More than just assassins I fear,” he replied. “And just as the assassins followed the word of the Norns, I believe the three sisters will throw fierce creatures at you to destroy you.”

  “You think it wise to speak of the Norns in such a manner?” said Frederick. “Do they not see and know all?”

  “I have thought long and hard on the matter,” said Mage. “I believe the Norns weave the Tapestry and take the measure of men and women without much thought. It is as if they do it while sleepwalking: they weave the Tapestry, but they do not remember anything at all of what they do. And at other times they are aware of their actions, and as we have seen, they meddle in our affairs. But, as there are three, we have no way of knowing if all three are in agreement, or just one is working without the knowledge of her two sisters.”

  Mage continued: “And so, I believe we may speak of them freely. It does make me question though that if they do know of our actions, will they still let us? That is, are we puppets on their strings doing the bidding of the Norns? Are our actions already predetermined? Or do we have the ability to make our own decisions, free of the Norns’ meddling, and are able to chart our own futures freely.”

  Mage took a sip of tea as all the talking parched his throat. Then: “We know the Norns have meddled before and so might meddle again and so we must be prepared.”

  Astrid said: “What do you suggest?”

  Mage cleared his throat and suddenly looked embarrassed. Said: “With the majority of the Norse gods gone, especially All Father Odin, there has been a power shift, one that favors the Norns too much. They have sensed this power vacuum and have seized it. They look to influence the Tapestry. But what they did not foresee, or perhaps did but did not take into full account, was the appearance of the Sorceress.”

  “Me,” said Astrid.

  “You,” agreed Mage.

  Her shoulders sagged as if feeling the burden of the realms.

  “So, the Norns fear me,” said Astrid. “I never thought any one would ever say that.”

  “These are most unusual times,” said Mage. “And yes, they do fear you right now, but you are still an unknown. Even you do not know the full extent of your powers. You have flexed them, but you have not yet made the realms tremble.”

  “And why should I do that, Mage?” demanded Astrid. “Why should I cause the Norse realms to tremble?”

  “Because the Norns need a wake-up call,” said Mage. “The old order needs to be put back in place, or some close semblance of it. Odin hid Gunghir ages ago, and he hid it for a reason. He knew the day would come when the Norse realms would once again be shaken, and that the realm of Asgard would need to lead, and that the Norns would once again need to heed the Norse god that wields it.”

  Frederick said: “And so tell me again, Mage, why am I not in Asgard defending Vanaheim?”

  “Because we need to make the Norns afraid of acquiring more power. And only the Sorceress may do that.”

  “You do not answer me. Or you do answer but it is still too much of a riddle. What are we to do while Vanaheim burns?”

  “Queen Astrid must make the Norns afraid.”

  Astrid scoffed. “That is quite the task you assign me,” she said. “How am I to make the Norns afraid? They already fear me, is that not enough?”

  “No, it is not,” said Mage. “They must truly fear you and the only way to do that is to strike the Norns where they live, at their heart—Yggdrasil and the Midgard Serpent. You must hurt one or the other, enough so that the Norns stop meddling in our affairs. And it will not be easy.”

  “It does not sound easy, not at all,” said Astrid.

  “It will not, but it must be done, and it will need to be timed very carefully,” said Mage. “The attention of the Norns will be focused on the events in Asgard. Their gazes will not be on this realm. An
d so it will provide you with an opportunity.”

  “Will you be there with me?” asked Astrid.

  Mage shook his head. Said: “That I do not know, Your Majesty.”

  “And where will my wife perform her great magic?” demanded Frederick. “You know she just had a child.”

  “I do, King Frederick, and I do apologize. But the fate of the realms lies in the queen’s hands.”

  “Typical,” said Astrid and she did not look amused.

  CHAPTER 68

  Farling and the Elf Army

  Farling stood on the battlements of Vanaheim castle and gazed out at the elf army encampment. His thoughts wandered. How was his brother and mother? How was the farm he bought for them? Were the animals healthy providing milk and eggs? Were they getting fair price at market? And Mantock, the blacksmith who had taught Farling everything he knew of the forge and the sword, how did he fare?

  Farling yearned to be back in a forge hammering horseshoes, reeking of sweat and breathing the acrid smoke deep into his lungs. He looked at his hands. Some forge dirt was embedded still in his skin, but his hands were the cleanest he had ever seen. Instead of grime he had thick calluses on his sword hand. And his skin and face were now tanned, burnt brown by the sun from all the Norse realms. Usually, he was quite pale as he worked indoors. But with these adventures, he had seen more sun than he had ever seen before.

  And he felt strong. He practiced his swordplay all the time with his friends. Here in Vanaheim, he had even sparred with Magnus, the Master of the Hunt. He had also sparred with the were-beasts and those had been tough matches.

  He knew he had to keep his muscles and joints strong else he would fall in battle. Fights often were won over who tired first. And no matter how many items of magic they had, mistakes were made in battle due to exhaustion.

  He gazed at the armor given him by Galdr. It was of the finest quality he had ever seen. He had not truly admired it before. Now, as he took a moment to relax before the next battle, he admired the workmanship. He had not tested it as the golems had not breached the shield wall, but he felt the armor would turn all blades and would be difficult for arrows to pierce. He wondered how the armor had been made and figured it was dwarf-made.