Both Thor and Leif bombarded him with questions, but there was still no good way of estimating the battle from down on the field. Loki had been up with Fulla, getting a better look at things, and he didn’t seem happy about it.
“Lee’s collected five heroes who seem to have some sense, and he’s got Gefjun and a couple other Asynjur freighting supplies. He’s doing more damage to the giants than the leader of any group. And we’re all doing miracles—thanks to the grenades and the bombs that killed off the giant reserves. But we’re still losing—and badly. They hold most of the field, except around the entrance to Asgard, and they’re closing in there. Even if every hero kills twenty of them, they can beat us. We’re already doing our best, too. The women are fighting as hard as the men, letting the dwarfs take over all supply work. Sudri and a group of his people are even joining in the fighting.”
Thor scowled in surprise and doubt. “What can a dwarf do? You exaggerate, Loki.”
Loki pointed to a section of the field not too distant. “See for yourself.”
Four of the squat little figures were banded together, tossing grenades as they drove a few giants back. One was suddenly caught in the clutch of a giant hand. Leif saw that it was Sudri, and groaned, but a second later the dwarf dropped back, spitting, while the big hand dropped beside him. He darted forward and grabbed the leg of another monster, his mouth working rapidly, before an eddy of battle cut off the sight.
There was a warning cry from Loki, and Leif had a brief glimpse of something flickering in the reflection on his shield. He leaped fifteen feet sideways, just as a heavy mace thwacked down beside him, the sharp spikes clanging against his armor and opening six inches of skin along his leg. Half attention was dangerous here! While the gods had been talking, a band of giants had sneaked up on them with a silence which seemed impossible to the clumsy creatures.
Loki and Leif set to work together, while Thor’s hammer and axe began a giant dirge. A grenade form a wandering hero went off against the midsection of one monster, throwing Leif to his knees and killing the hero in the concussion. There were no unbruised places on his body, it seemed—but he also seemed to bear a charmed life, and was back in the fight almost at once. A few minutes later, Loki was cutting the ugly throat of the last enemy near them.
But now, even Leif could see that the battle was being lost by Asgard. The giants were advancing slowly. At first, they had been cautious of the heroes, but now that fear seemed to be gone, leaving them free to concentrate on their real enemies. Size and number were both on their side. “How much longer can we hold out?” Leif asked Loki.
“Perhaps two hours, but certainly no more.”
“And where’s Odin?”
He headed in the direction Loki had pointed, keeping his eyes open for one of the dwarfs. By good luck, he found Sudri a few minutes later. The dwarf was running back for more grenades, but swung around with obvious delight at finding Leif still whole.
Leif Svensen had no time for greetings. “Can you build rails out over Vigridr—the higher the better—through Bifrost from Asgard? I want a place to move in a score of bombs over the field, too high for the giants to reach.”
“Sure, boss Leif. Stuff won’t weight much here, and that part of Bifrost is thin. Brace the platforms from Asgard. You want it done now?”
“On the double, Sudri,” Leif ordered, and headed for the section where Odin was supposed to be, avoiding giants as best he could. It was still odd to be able to run a mile in two minutes, but a welcome thing now. He found Odin presently, mixed into the thick of things, with a couple of the Valkyries, a hero, and a dwarf—the strangest mixture Leif had seen, but a surprisingly effective one. The giants near them were already beginning to retreat by the time Leif reached the group and began helping to clean up the last ones.
Odin looked good now, more vigorous and youthful than Leif had seen him before; but the worry in his eye showed that Loki had been in touch with him. Leif wasted no time on preliminaries. “Can you order a complete retreat and make it work?”
The Alfadur’s face clouded in suspicion, but the old head finally nodded doubtfully. Leif began explaining his plan, bracing himself as he came to what he most hated about it. The reserve einherjar were certainly of no use, even to themselves. They were no more alive than the weapons they carried. But because of the elf-shapings had once housed something—the complex life patterns of real men, whether that was the stuff of souls or of something as synthetic as the outer bodies—it bothered him to demand their cold-blooded sacrifice. And he knew that Odin was fond of all his heroes.
Odin had hated that knowledge that the heroes killed here in Vigridr were lost forever. There was no way of restoring them on this little world, and carrying them back through Bifrost would do something, apparently, that would also prevent restoration. But at least their deaths had seemed necessary and honorable; even Leif could see little honor in the betrayal that was needed now.
The Alfadur took it on his own conscience, adding the matter to all the worries that had driven him through millennia. When it was clear there was no other solution, he nodded at the harsh laws of military necessity.
“As you have said, Leif, there are many of the einherjar who are less than beasts, knowing neither pleasure nor pain,” he conceded. “This is an ill thing, and if those will suffice, you have my permission. Go back and do whatever is needful. Here, we shall try to organize for the bitter retreat. And hasten—the time is less than even Loki thought.”
Leif headed for Bifrost, still trying to avoid further fighting now. There was no time to spare for individual giant killing. He ducked around a huge corpse, leaped over a pile of squashed einherjar where a giant had trapped and trampled them, and dived rapidly under the falling sword of a smaller giant. Then he was in a clearer space, and his eyes began a frantic search for Fulla or Hoof-Tosser. She caught the signal of the light reflections from his shield and came plummeting down on Hoof-Tosser, to touch the ground lightly and dart up again as soon as Leif could pull himself up behind her.
Her hand squeezed hard on his wrist, but she made no comment, and he was too exhausted to waste words. He found a remaining scrap of the share of apple all had been given and swallowed it as they flashed through Bifrost. It helped, though there was too little of it. He was able to jump briskly from the horse and move quickly to the workshops.
The dwarfs were almost finished with the crude platform and rails that ran from the shops to the top of the wall and then out through Bifrost. Leif moved out on it, to the edge of the platform beyond the edge of Vigridr, perhaps two hundred feet above the ground and two hundred square feet in area. The bracing back to the wall on Asgard had already been completed, and the first sled with its load was dragged up the greased rails as Leif watched. He made a few suggestions, and moved back to Asgard.
It was amazing how time was slipping away. Loki was waiting for him, with Heimdallr at his side, when Leif stepped form the wall. The vain god was now blood-spattered and filthy, almost unrecognizable, but the horn in his hand still sparkled like a precious jewel. “I’m to sound retreat when you’re ready,” he announced. “But who’s to lead the sacrificial einherjar?”
Leif frowned, shaking the cobwebs from his brain. Of course there had to be a leader for the heroes, since they couldn’t even remember orders more than a minute or two, unless they could simple ape the acts of a god in from of them. They needed only brains enough to keep the giants from realizing it was a retreat and not a mere replacement for perhaps five minutes, but that was beyond their abilities. He’d overlooked that angle.
Now he faced it, and the solution was obvious. “All right. It was my idea, so I’ll lead.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Loki snapped. “It means death.”
“It means the same death to anyone else,” Leif pointed out. “I can’t ask someone else to die I my place.”
Fulla made a low moaning sound in her throat and braced herself against Hoof-Tosser. There was an appeal in her e
yes, but she nodded reluctantly as he faced her. Maybe it was better this way, he thought. They’d had a month together, which was more than they had expected; and once Ragnarok was over, he could only be a source of trouble to her.
From a watching dwarf, the signal that Odin was ready was relayed back to Leif, and he nodded for Heimdallr to sound retreat. The Gjaller-Horn that could sound through all the worlds came up, wailing as if ten thousand banshees were attending the wake of the last idshee in the universe. Heimdallr dropped the horn at last and stretched out his hand. Leif reached out to accept the gesture.
The hand doubled into a fist that shoved suddenly against his chest. Something caught behind his knees, and he went sailing over the kneeling figure of Loki—a victim of a trick older than even the traditions of Asgard!
Chapter XVIII
He sprang to his feet almost instantly, but Heimdallr was running toward the apathetic ranks of the oldest heroes, waving them forward. They started mechanically into Bifrost, with Heimdallr at the front.
“You never know about him,” Loki muttered. “But in a way, he was right. You did your job here, and more. He made a mistake earlier in not spotting the first giants who drifted into Vigridr. Now he has to make up for it.”
Fulla was with them as Leif and Loki stepped along the rails into Vigridr again, watching the change-over. Odin had somehow managed to marshal his forced into a thin strip before the entrance, and even to force the giants back temporarily. Now Heimdallr broke through Bifrost, his horn wailing, and went boring ahead, drawing his ranks through the others. Leif could see that he was, indeed, the man for the job now. Heimdallr did it with a flair that somehow made every faded hero a temporary extension of himself, and he got them through undivided and even into some kind of action against the giants. It was superb leadership, with almost nothing to lead.
Odin raised his spear. Gods, Valkyries, dwarfs, and the heroes who had been intelligent enough to obey orders pelted for Bifrost. The giants hesitated, uncertain about the strange maneuver; it was no part of the traditional battle plan, and they had seen too many new things prove dangerous. They even gave ground a little before Heimdallr’s rush. Then they began a forward movement again, but still cautiously.
There was no sign of Lee that Leif could see. The other Svensen might have been too tightly knit into the main group to be seen, or he might have already been a victim of his own bravery, as Heimdallr seemed likely to be within a few minutes.
Leif felt something touch his arm and turned to see Hoof-Tosser delicately stepping along the rails, rubbing his muzzle against Leif. Apparently, the horse had gotten tired of being alone—or perhaps curious about the battle, since he seemed to understand more than any horse could. Leif jerked out of his mental fog abruptly and grabbed the reins to pull the horse forward onto the platform. There were still a few grenades on the saddle—enough, perhaps. He vaulted into place and was urging Hoof-Tosser into the air in a split second.
At first, there seemed to be no sign of Heimdallr, until a toppling giant showed the god briefly. Leif urged Hoof-Tosser down, swinging his sword toward a giant neck. The horse wheeled at once, making a perfect target of another giant, and the sword bit deeply again. For a moment, there was a clear space.
Heimdallr was not fool enough to argue; the god leaped up, lifting his arm, and Leif caught it, yelling for Hoof-Tosser to get back to Asgard.
The weight of the god and armor was too much for Leif to heave up to the saddle, and Hoof-Tosser’s legs threatened to send Heimdallr flying into space. Yet somehow his other hand had gradually floundered up behind Leif. Below, the last of the forces of Asgard were off the field, and the giants had finally realized something was wrong. They were pelting across the field in a mass charge, disregarding the hopeless einherjar. Heimdallr grabbed for the grenades and tossed them back, but there was no time to see the results.
Leif yelled to the dwarfs as Hoof-Tosser leaped through Bifrost and dropped to the cave entrance beside Loki and Fulla.
The dwarfs were into Vigridr and darting back by the time Leif and Heimdallr had dismounted. Loki pulled the dimensional mirror from his pouch. Leif knocked it from his hand, just as a stabbing beam of radiance leaped from it and lanced across the ground, searing the grass instantly.
Even in Asgard, the shock wave shook the ground, and Bifrost became visible for miles of its length, arching and leaping in rainbow fire. But thin as it was here, the dimensional twists of Bifrost held back the major shock and lethal radiations. Twenty of the biggest U-235 bombs going off together represented a violence greater than the worst legends could match. In the tiny world of Vigridr, there was no room for such fury. Even the crust of the planet must be cracking under it. When the fury faded a little, Leif picked up the mirror. There was no evidence of life no on Vigridr. It was clothed only with decaying radiance, and the giants were no longer a danger to Asgard.
Leif found Odin and Thor later. The two were still unsure of this victory that had replaced certain doom. Leif was dead inside with reaction from the flux of emotions he’d never known he was experiencing, but something stirred briefly as he sensed the Alfadur’s mood. The old god stood looking down on Asgard from a low hillock, only half seeing it.
“Five gods, four goddesses, and score of my Valkyries, and all but a handful of the einherjar are gone. Even nine of the dwarfs. Let Sudri have a seat on the council as an equal for this day’s work, and add his losses to ours. Gna is dead, and she has left Hoof-Tosser to you, Leif. Frigg has killed herself, since her prophecy has failed. Tyr and Ullr are no more. It is a heavy price. Yet Asgard is saved, and I have still three mighty sons beside me. My heart is full.” Odin’s dirge and eulogy ended, and he stood there silently for another minute. Then he sighed and faced the others, his expression almost normal again. “Now we must reckon accounts at Yggdrasil.”
He moved away. The ravens swooped down to his shoulder and the two grey old wolves came up to trot beside him. Leif, Fulla, Thor, Loki and Heimdallr watched until he was almost gone from sight, and even Loki had nothing to say.
Thor spoke first, dropping an oddly gentle hand on Leif’s shoulder. “Leif, your brother, Lee is safe and will join us at the council. He was wounded badly, but Gefjun found him and dragged him out at the last moment. She’s tending him now. Heimdallr, are you coming?”
“I’m coming,” the fair god said. He moved off with Thor, but his words drifted back. “Thor, that trick of building a structure across Bifrost from the wall is worth seeing first. I’ve studied it, and it’s a better trick than it seems. With it, we can build through to Midgard, to conquer and hold it easily!”
Leif Svensen had started forward with them, but now he stopped, frozen by the picture of Earth being ravaged by his own devices. In the aftermath of Ragnarok, he’d almost forgotten the inevitable sequel to it, but now reality swooped back. He’d saved Asgard—but left Earth completely at the mercy of the gods!
“I’ve got to go back,” he decided. “Fulla, it will be hell without you, but I can’t betray my world—not even for you.”
She made no reply, but her hand tightened on his.
Loki snorted. “Going back won’t save anything! Your skills are already familiar there, Leif. Don’t be a fool!”
All of Leif’s half-formed plans churned in his head now, but he had never had time to develop them. “I still have a boon from Odin due me,” he said, trying to make it convincing to himself. “If I demand that the Aesir give up their plans against Earth…”
“You’d fail. Leif, do you think a priest of one of your faiths would give up his right to convert others? He might give you even the altar and every treasure of his temple—but not his duty to what he considers lost souls! Odin might give you a truce for a generation, perhaps—but even he couldn’t enforce it. Kings may relinquish their thrones, but they don’t abdicate unless they have already lost the power to hold. I’ll help you, Leif—but not in madness!”
He stared a Leif for a moment, waiting for some re
sponse, but seeing none. Then he shrugged and moved away toward Yggdrasil.
Leif and Fulla followed more slowly along a path that had too many memories for them. Her hand was still tightly clasped in his. Then she halted. “Take me with you, Leif.”
“I can’t,” he told her. “It’s easy to think of now. But I couldn’t watch you grow old and wither, and know I was responsible. You’ve told me yourself that you couldn’t adapt to Earth, Fulla.”
She nodded faintly, and pulled her hand free. “Then let me leave you here, before I break. I can’t stay while you’re torn from me by slow inches, Leif.”
She came into his arms for one kiss, draw back and managed to smile at him. Then she moved up the trail without looking back.
He moved up the trail toward Yggdrasil alone, his thoughts and emotions churning on into inevitability.
The Aesir were all assembled when he arrived. He saw Lee first, standing beside Gefjun. There was an ugly scar across Lee’s chest, but the rapid healing customary in Asgard had proceeded so far that no sign of weakness remained. He began running forward with a beaming face as he spotted Leif.
Then the expression changed to surprise as he stared at Leif. “What’s eating you, son?”
“I’m going back to Earth. Are you coming with me, Lee?”
Lee’s laugh was automatic. “Well, I suppose it’ll be pretty dull around here with no war. And Gefjun’s getting ideas.” The laughter faded as he studied his brother, and he frowned, shaking his head as if amazed at himself. “But…No, damn it. Leif, I guess I fit here better than I ever did back there. And I’ve already sort of promised her…Unless you need me, son?”
“Go back to your goddess,” Leif told him. He forced a smile to his lips and clapped Lee lightly on the back. He was getting used to the idea of going it alone, it seemed. Anyhow, it was his responsibility, not Lee’s. He saw that Gefjun was carrying the chest of apples, and knew there was no point in looking for Fulla in the crowd. He moved toward Odin’s throne.
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