Votan and Other Novels (FANTASY MASTERWORKS)

by John James

  ‘This land. Asgard, to be precise. He said if Asgard fell to Starkadder’s pirates, he could keep it and no interference from Loki. Starkadder said he thought the land was a bit dear, but of course, Loki still thinks he may do it.’

  ‘Won’t he?’

  ‘No, he was quite keen on tackling Donar, but he didn’t want to hurt you. But look, if you want help in the summer, I’ll be in the islands, and I’ll always have ten ships ready to come down to you at a day’s notice, and thirty more in three days.’

  He moved away. Edwin came over. He was in a good humour generally these days, Edith was pregnant, he saw himself safe. But tonight he was particularly buoyant. He jerked his head at Sigmund.

  ‘Look at that idiot Burgundian. There he is, so brave, so bold, so beautiful, a gift to the world. He hasn’t heard yet, I killed his brother last week.’

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Oh, no, Allfather, not personally. We used him for the head game. A bit heavy, not like these Danish heads, they’re empty. This one was Solar. He was a fool. He let Edward get to windward of him with three boats full of men, and then he couldn’t sail away fast enough. We can’t all sail against the wind, you know; in fact, none of us can. We heard he’d been down among the Friesians, trying to raise a fleet.’

  ‘What for?’ I knew, of course, it was monotonous.

  ‘He wanted them to raid Asgard. The Friesians wouldn’t come. They said us on the coast, and Starkadder in the strait, and Sweyn among the islands weren’t serious, but you and Donar were more than they wanted to tackle. Listen, Allfather. You’ll find there are a lot of Saxon packtrains on the roads this year. Lots of men and not very much to carry; except their saxes.’

  I went away to think all this over. What did I need Ravens for? If Loki and Sigmund wanted to attack Asgard, then I would make them do it themselves, openly, and take the blame on their own backs.

  8

  The following night, in Valhall, we held our great Funeral Feast for Baldur, a private one for Kings and Asers. I sang again in Valhall, the song of Baldur-Adonis, not now as a desperate speech over a body, but as an entertainment. I sang loud to drown Njord’s coughing. I sang long and loud, I stretched each line to a stanza, the patterns of alliteration growing wilder and wilder as I strove to make my mind too full for thought.

  We had gone to table as usual. Boar and whetstone lay on the board. The Asers and the Kings stood in their places.

  Then the curtains opened at the far end of the Hall. Freda entered. She was white clad and gleaming, golden haired and willowy, shining and splendid in the red and yellow torchlight. Gold rings were on her fingers, gold bracelets on her arms, a great gold brooch was at her shoulder. Behind her were her maidens in yellow or green or crimson. She sat between me and Njord. About her neck there hung a chain of stone. A chain it was of thirty-six rings, each ring was in the shape of a fish that held its own tail in its mouth, and each fish was green but its fins were white.

  While the feast went on, while we ate and drank and made stilted conversation in rhythmic phrases, taking care of metre and alliteration as Kings and Asers must, I kept on thinking, Where did she get it? How did she get it? Yet all the time I knew, and I did not dare to know.

  Njord went to bed early, coughing. I left with him. It was my turn, of all the Asers, to be up early next morning so that whenever a King might wish to depart, there would be one of us to see him go. I went round the gate and the wicket, spoke to all the guards, did much else. Tyr and Donar could look after the guests.

  I went to my own house. Freda was sitting in the great bed, her golden hair loose over her bare shoulders, her bare arms, in the light of a dozen candles. We were the rich, the happy Asers.

  ‘Come to bed, Votan. Do come to bed, darling.’

  ‘How did you get it?’

  ‘How did I get what? Don’t stand there, darling, come into bed and tell me all about it.’

  ‘Tell me how you got it. That necklace, tell me how you got it?’

  ‘What, that old thing? I bought it, of course. Now, don’t be silly, come into bed, do.’

  ‘No! If you bought it, what did you pay for it?’

  ‘Not much, I forget how much, a trifle.’

  ‘Not much? I offered them gold, Amber, furs, garnets. I offered them a ship, free passage and safe conduct from here to India or anywhere else they pleased. I offered them free quarters here for life, horses, dogs, women, all of these things together. They would not sell. What more could you offer?’

  ‘Perhaps I asked them nicely.’

  I went rooting through the hall like a boar. I flung things about, I rummaged in chests and cupboards. I counted, I weighed.

  ‘What did you give them? There’s nothing gone here, you haven’t had anything out of the store-houses. What did you give? What did you promise?’

  ‘I promised them nothing. I gave them nothing you valued.’

  ‘But something you gave.’

  I pounded about the hall. The women scurried terrified into the night. I looked for my precious things, my shield, my sword, my helmet, my gold cuirass, the old leather bag that was the last Greek thing I had.

  ‘What was it? What was it?’

  I wouldn’t come to it, I was afraid to come to it. I could hear Loki’s voice at the Feast of the Dead: ‘… and if you had something really fine, and there wasn’t anything else you really wanted, then you could have Freda herself …’ All the Asers had heard it, all the Vandals, all Germany had heard it by now.

  ‘What was it? What did you give them?’

  She saw it in my eyes, she tried to boast of it.

  ‘Something you didn’t want, never wanted, always off riding around, worse than Baldur, after everything else that moves.’

  ‘You slept with one of them.’

  ‘All right, I slept with them, both of them.’

  I slapped her face, back and fore, back and fore.

  ‘Yes, both of them, two in one night, two in one night, little brown men.’

  I hit her again.

  ‘Slut! Bitch!’

  ‘Little brown men, yes two in a night, cut and come again, what a night we had of it.’ She sat naked in the bed and ranted at me. ‘Better than you, you played-out satyr, better than you, young man, old man whatever you are. Look at yourself, white-haired, one-eyed wreck! Randy stallion of the Shallow Sea, he called you. Why shouldn’t I have my fun too, why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘You’re my wife, that’s why, that’s reason enough.’

  ‘And what’s it mean to you? A meal when you want it, a bed when you want it, a chance to make money and that you always want, all the wealth you can think of, all the wealth that’s going – aye, and where’s it going, tell me that, where’s it all going? Aser silver, furs, Amber, and where’s it all going? Nobody but you can understand the accounts, where’s it all going?’

  ‘I work for what I get.’

  ‘Hard labour it must be, in bed with the Queen of the Saxons, rolling about with painted trollops – and what about Gambara?’

  ‘All right, all right! I slept with Bithig to save my neck. I slept with Edith to save a good wise old man from being ploughed into the earth like dung. And I slept with Gambara out of pure lust, and that’s something you never felt in all your life. All you want is pretty things. Never heard of desire, did you, you toad-in-the-bed, you sluggish cold snake. I never slept with anybody for greed, no not even with you!’

  I paced up and down. There was a jug of wine on the table, I flung it over her as I passed, without thinking. I was frantic with rage and shame. I turned on her again,

  ‘And how many more since we were married? How many more?’

  She wasn’t being brazen any more, she was terrified.

  ‘This is the first time, the first time, I tell—’

  ‘You lying whore! That boy, who’s his father? Tell me that! Ginger-headed bastard, who’s always got him, who’s always fondling him, who’s pushed me out, tell me that!’

 
‘You can’t say that!’

  ‘I can say it, it’s true, isn’t it? Isn’t it? Who was flitting around the forests before I came? I hear things, you know, other beings talk besides ravens. Who was always here, in and out, in and out?’

  ‘It’s not true.’

  ‘Now we can see you squirm, now we hear you scream – too near the truth, is it, too near the bone? We’ll go nearer to the bone yet.’

  And at that point, when I had Gungnir at her throat, when I could have killed her, would have killed her, as custom and law allowed me to do, even commanded me to do, the noise outside our hall grew till even we could hear it. And still we might have taken no notice, if Skuldi, the oldest and the bravest of Freda’s maidens – and maiden was a courtesy title at that – had not come back in to us, and stood at the door of the hall screaming.

  ‘Allfather, Allfather, they’re fighting in the hall, in Valhall, Donar is dead, the Kings have killed him.’

  ‘Oh no,’ I prayed. ‘Oh no, don’t let the Kings and Asers fight, don’t let the peace be broken and the trade spoilt.’

  I pulled my cloak about me, I went out of the hall across the courtyard in the bitter cold. Freda sat on the bed and screamed, she screeched and cursed after me as I went,

  ‘Dedicated to yourself, yourself dedicated to yourself, that’s what you are, always been, dedicated to yourself.’

  I went from the clamour of her voice into the clamour of Valhall, all confusion and terror. Sweyn Halffoot, standing for once, was banging his face against a golden pillar, viciously, trying to hurt himself. Edwin was trying to hold back Siggeir, who had young Sigmund in a corner and was trying to brain him with a silver tray. Donar was lying over a table, face down, streaming blood, snorting like a pig.

  ‘Quiet, everyone!’ I shouted. ‘Stand still where you are!’ They did, too. Anyone would have stopped for white-haired Votan, furious, with the one blazing eye.

  ‘Who’s sober and capable? Idun, you look all right, get a bucket of hot water. And a jug of Honeydew, and some shears, and a knife. A sharp one, out of the kitchen. Tyr, help me get his legs on the table and turn him over. How did it all start?’

  ‘He told him it was King Vikar’s chain. Then he went for him.’

  ‘Shears! we’ll get rid of some of this hair. Now, slowly, who told who and who went for who?’

  ‘Sigmund told Donar, the toad-brained turd. I’ll kill him, só help me, I’ll feed his guts to the rats, I’ll cut his—’

  ‘Let him be, Tyr, Siggeir will finish Sigmund for us. Save your curses for Loki. Idun, get some clean cloths. So Sigmund told Donar Sweyn had King Vikar’s chain. Who went for who?’

  ‘Donar rushed at Sweyn, had him by the throat. Sweyn had to hit him, he was being choked.’

  ‘What with, for pity’s sake? Pour some Honeydew over these tweezers, Idun, in this dish.’

  ‘Fists first, and then a pot and it broke, and then a whetstone.’

  ‘Njord’s?’

  ‘No, with his own.’

  ‘Donar must have a skull as thick as the Mamunt’s. Give me the tweezers. Look at the pieces of stone coming out, and the lumps of pot, right in the bone. Pour Honeydew over the wound. Go on, girl, don’t skimp it. Keep all the pieces in that cup. He’ll be proud of them when he comes round.’

  ‘He will come round?’

  ‘Of course he will.’ I said. I hope he does, I thought, but I shall be miles away by then. ‘Is this where – What’s all that noise?’

  ‘He’s got away, Sigmund’s got away, he’s running like a louse.’

  ‘Let him go. Stop there, Siggeir, he’s not worth it, stop – Oh, what’s the use, let them all go if they want to. Come over here Sweyn, feel this. There you are, only a bump, you’ve had worse yourself. Idun, thank heaven you’re here, get a bed made up. And throw some water over this drunken Dane, there’s nothing else to do when they start crying.’

  Siggeir came back, swearing horribly and shaking snow off his clothes.

  ‘Lost him, blast his eyes, blast him. I’d have got him too, if this Saxon hadn’t hung on to my cloak, brought us both down in the marsh. I’d have got him if I’d been left alone. Off he went over the saltings and his men with him.’

  ‘Well, you shouldn’t have treated the poor old gentleman like that.’ Idun had come a long way from the forest into Asgard, and now she was at her best, not caring whom she scolded or mothered. ‘Come along, King Edwin, come along, sit by the brazier and have some hot beer. Get your wet shirt off – Bragi, get him a dry one – and wrap this cloak around you till it comes.’

  Idun had learned, and I think she learned it from me, that if you talk as if you are going to be obeyed, then people will obey you. She was in charge now, I could trust her.

  I stood by the high table, and looked over the wreck of Valhall, the remains of the feast, spilt wine and scattered food, broken pottery, and glass, even precious glass, broken. Silver cups squeezed flat, splintered horns, benches upset, and the hangings dragged to the floor, and the gold leaf scraped from the pillars here and there. I stood and I looked at it all, and I picked up a piece of the broken whetstone, I absent-mindedly took Gungnir from the wall, and began to hone him. I honed the edge of the long blade, and I looked at it, and I felt sick of all the riot. The long night was over and the light was coming back. What was I doing here?

  ‘Saddle Sleipnir,’ I told the Vandals, ‘and a spare horse for my pack.’

  Tyr watched me pull my grey cloak around me, and draw the hood over my head.

  ‘Hunting Burgundians?’ he asked. ‘Or Loki?’

  ‘Two little brown men. Tell your Vandals I shall need them.’

  ‘Call for us when you want us.’

  I went out of Asgard. It was close to dawn.

  9

  All that winter, from Yule to Easter, I rode the roads of Germany. I went from the Friesians to the Quadi, and from the Cherusci to the Black Danes. Once I came to the very gates of Outgard, and heard the Burgundians and their women shrilling inside.

  I had not known there were so many of the little brown men on the cold plains. Did I find the two I sought? How should I know? The first five I saw I killed quickly, out of hand. After that they heard of me, and they began to hide from me, and to keep to the woods. I only got eight or nine more, besides women, by the time the snow began to melt. I learned myself how to melt into the earth, how to appear and disappear, never to be seen to come, or to go, but suddenly to be, or to be gone.

  At intervals I would come into the palisades, and meet the Vandals of the packtrains. They always had news for me, and silver, and new clothes, and fresh horses, for I only rode Sleipnir when I went in to kill. They helped drive the brown vermin into my arms, though twice they nearly trapped me in the wild lands.

  So, as I came into the palisades, I heard all the news of Asgard.

  ‘Njord is sick, he lies on his bed, he coughs and drinks Honeydew, and sits no more at the gate.’

  ‘Donar has begun to walk again, but slowly.’

  ‘Freda now lives in Valhall and tends them both.’

  Then when the hyacinths bloomed again beneath the trees:

  ‘Njord is dying, Njord Borsson, Lord of the Asers, lies dead in Valhall.’

  I rode back to Asgard. I stopped at Orm’s place. He said:

  ‘Only send Bragi back to me, and Idun. And let her bring the little girl, Brunhild. She looks after her now.’

  I came to the place where Njord had chosen his grave. Ten paces west of the Standing Stone of the Men of Old, at the Gate of Hell, at the threshold of Those Below. There was no need of fire to thaw the ground. In the soft earth they dug. I saw that they threw up bits of burnt bone, and the ashes of men long dead, and pieces of broken pot. Yet I think I was the only one who saw this, the others were too busy digging, or thinking. I sat Sleipnir by the ash tree and I waited.

  Out from Asgard, the blue-clad Vandals who had no King carried the body of Njord Borsson who was no King. What killed him?

&n
bsp; ‘The cold,’ Idun told me later. ‘The cold he caught going up to Baldur’s grave, he wasn’t fit to go all that way, not at his age, and all that Honeydew he drank to cure the cold, and that Baldur was dead, and that Loki came no more, and that Blind Hod had gone off to live with Loki, and that Donar walked slowly and talked thickly and smiled always on one side of his face, and that Freda wept all day, and that you, Votan, were gone in wrath and without a word. That’s what killed him, Allfather, that you were gone, most of all, for he knew that without you, or against you, not even Asgard could stand.’

  They carried him to the grave that he had asked for, leather lapped in his oak coffin. Who would go with Njord? Skirmir’s wife did not cry her question, who would have answered? But he did not, in the end, go alone. For pity’s sake, they caught the old woman who made pots at the end of the village, and knocked her on the head and threw her in. And is it not better to share the grave of a greater than a King, than to die in lonely misery, and rot unwashed, unwatched, on the floor of your hut till the roof falls in to be your grave mound?

  No Kings came to Njord’s funeral. Their agents came. No King would show his face in Asgard after Baldur’s funeral feast. For their masters they threw into the grave their gifts, bronze, gold, bolts of cloth. From the kitchens of Asgard, they threw in roast meat, and sausages, and bread and stuffed salt fish. I saw someone throw in a handful of my olives. Njord never liked olives in life, why should he in death? What about the rest of the barrel, I kept thinking, what about the rest of the olives, as I watched the Asers come to the grave.

  The Asers threw in their gifts. Heimdall in his fine Spanish boots I gave him, and he was so proud of. Donar, moving slowly on a stick. I looked across the heads of all the Asers. On the edge of the forest, beyond the village, he stood, in scarlet cloak.

  Freda came forward. Into the grave she threw a chain, a chain of stone. A chain it was of thirty-six rings, each ring was in the shape of a fish that held its own tail in its mouth, and each fish was green but its fins were white.

  I rode down from the ash tree to the Standing Stone, the only mounted man in all that throng. I rode past the Asers to the grave of Great Njord Borsson, Lord of the Asers. Into the grave I threw my golden armour, my cuirass of gilded leather. In that acid soil the hide would rot, the worms poke through the gold. All will rot, all will moulder away.