He took my arm and started walking again, head down, his free hand stroking his beard.
I let him lead me. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate you saying this, Meuhlnir, but back in that camp the first night, I killed my share of attackers. I’ve trained for years in the use of a pistol, and I can protect myself.”
Meuhlnir nodded. “Indeed, you did, Aylootr,” he said with a trace of humor in his tone. “Against men from your klith, I’d have no qualms at all. Although your tools themselves might…” He looked at the holstered Kimber .45 I wore on my belt, and a strange look slid over his face.
“What?” I asked. “Would you like to hold it?” It was something I was used to being asked, after all, I’d been asked that question by every school kid who’d seen me wearing my service pistol.
“Oh no,” he said with an appalled look on his face. “No, I’d rather not.”
I tilted my head to the side. His reaction confused me. It was…overkill.
He saw my expression and smiled a nervous smile. “Your tools themselves might be dangerous here. We gave up all that.” He waved his hand toward the pistol. “We almost destroyed ourselves with things like that.” He was silent a moment and then looked me in the eye. “Ragnaruechkr,” he said in hushed tones.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Ragnarok? Really?”
Meuhlnir stopped and turned toward me. His face was grave, with the slightest trace of confusion and a touch of hurt. “No. Not Ragnaruk. Ragnaruechkr.”
I shrugged. “What’s the difference?”
“Ah,” said Meuhlnir. “Ragnaruechkr actually happened—here, on this klith. Ragnaruk is just a tale we told the ancient peoples on your klith. It was based on the actual event, true enough, but your people would not have understood the truth.”
“Ah, back to that,” I said.
“In this case,” said Meuhlnir, “the tale was told to try to help your klith avoid the fate of the Geumlu. It sounds like it has worked thus far.”
“Maybe,” I said, unwilling to grant that their interference was of any benefit. “We’ve been pretty close to blowing ourselves to hell several times.”
“This is what’s left of Osgarthr,” he said, sweeping his hands out in arcs to his side. “Do you see a difference?”
“Tell me about Ragnaruechkr, then.”
“I told you before that the Geumlu studied the universe and unlocked many of its secrets. Some of those secrets had beneficial applications, such as our longevity and the preer. Others… less so.” He tucked his chin down toward his chest and took my arm again, pulling me into a slow stroll. “Some of the universe’s secrets should not be known by men. The knowledge of them granted the Geumlu godlike powers before they were ready for the responsibility. It is said that before their quest for knowledge, the Geumlu were just men like any others, like those found on your klith, and that there was no vefnathur strenki, no preer, nothing like that.
“The Geumlu relied on machines for everything, for travel, for treatment of the sick, for growing food—even to think and plan for the future. There was one Gamla named Mim—a great scientist, it is said, and a powerful man. He plumbed the universe for its secrets and hoarded the knowledge for his own estate. He sought power over the other Geumlu. He wanted to rule Osgarthr to the last person. The knowledge he hoarded began to eat away at his mind from the moment he learned it.
“Mim empowered his sons and made them his generals. He gave them each a thinking machine that could analyze the terrain and composition of the enemy and create a strategy for victory. Each thinking machine was embedded inside a unique mechanical war engine. To one son, the one named Vani, Mim gave dominion over the air and a great mechanical bird named Uhrn. To the second son, named Isi, dominion over the land and a mighty engine of war that crawled over the ground like a worm, named Nithukkr. To the last son, named Jot, he gave the mighty ship Nagifar that could swim under the sea like a whale, and dominion over the sea and all things in it. These three war engines ran on a powerful force—a force derived from the strenkir af Krafti. The force was somehow separated from the universe and contained in a big, round container of lead and artificial stone. It was said they never needed maintenance or refueling but could run for centuries on a single charge of those great power sources.
“The sons of Mim conquered all the nations of the Geumlu and established Mim as absolute ruler of Osgarthr. He was not a beneficent ruler. No, quite the opposite, according to the legends that survive. Mim was ruled by his lusts and the growing sickness in his head. It wasn’t long, a few decades perhaps before his mind turned on itself, and he took his own life—or maybe was murdered by one of his sons. Who knows?
“After Mim’s death, the sons of Mim were at play across the face of the planet, and even beneath it. Each one vied for absolute power, and each one claimed to be the rightful heir to their father’s throne.
“Each son of Mim had grown more powerful during their father’s reign—each continued to mine the universe’s secrets, and each developed their own sickness of the mind. During this time, each of the sons of Mim began to alter the very nature of some of the Geumlu living within their realms—their militaries, their favorite advisers, their friends, and their families. It is said that one could tell the Jotun by their length of limb, useful when swimming, and very pale skin. It is said that the Vanir could be told by the tilt of their eyes and the darkened, greyish pigment in their skin. The Isir are said to be as you see me, thick muscled for moving boulders and digging in the dirt and pale skin from avoiding the light of the sun. It is also said that only Isir were given the power to vefa strenki so that they would have an advantage over the followers of Vani and Jot.
“A mighty, planet-wide war ensued. Each of Mim’s sons became bitter that their brothers would deny them of their rightful inheritance, and each attacked the other with vengeance and hatred in their hearts.
“The war devastated the face of the planet. The grand cloud cities, built by Vani, fell burning to the ground. The mighty fortresses of the mountains built by Isi were mined and burned until nothing remain. The vast floating platforms built by Jot were set alight from the air and bombarded by stones flung from the shore.
“The populace was decimated, and those who weren’t killed outright soon began to starve as each of the sons of Mim sought to deprive the other’s army of food by attacking the farms in each domain. Soon, the armies began to commandeer any food they could find, and the populace declined even farther. It came to pass that the only people left on the planet were part of the military complex ruled by one of the brothers. These military complexes were called the Vanir, the Isir, and the Jotun.
“Safe under the oceans, the Jotun released a fiery weapon on the surface. A ghastly fire burned through the atmosphere killing anyone not protected by special garments. The unprotected who didn’t die immediately from the fire became sick and soon died. This brought Vani and Isi into accord, and together they destroyed Jotunhaym, the home of the Jotun, killing every Jotun who lived under the sea.
“It is said that with the last remaining power of Nagifar, Jot transformed himself and those of his inner circle, into sea dragons, and that they rule the seas even today.
“The peace and accord between Vani and Isi did not last long, though. Soon they were intent on killing each other again so that each could become the undisputed ruler of the planet. Unknown to Vani, Isi had spent the time during the accord learning about our bodies and plumbing yet more secrets from the shadows of the universe.
“When the fighting resumed, Isi unleashed a plague. Using some means unknown to us, he made the plague kill only the Vanir while ensuring the health of the Isir. Seeing the devastation wrought on his men, the Vani used the secret knowledge he had stolen from Jot during the sack of Jotunhaym and the last bits of power left in Uhrn to transform himself and his chosen few into dragons of the air, and they rule the air to this day. It is said that some of the Vanir survived the plague of Isi, but they were changed into the sub
human kobolds that live under the mountains.
“The devastation from the decades of war and the mighty weapons devised by each brother had rendered most of the planet useless. Crops would not grow. The air became thin and noxious. Clouds of the fire released by Jot still floated through the atmosphere, burning anything it touched, killing any of the stunted crops near to its path, and killing Isir as well.
“Seeing the devastation wrought on the land, Isi wished he still had his brothers to help him restore the planet. He traveled to the shore of the sea and asked the sea dragons for help, asking them to writhe their bodies in the water and create great waves to put out the clouds of floating fire. They refused and promised to stop him from using the seas as a food source.
“Having lost the knowledge of the sky chariots when his brother, Vani, transformed himself, Isi traveled far up into the mountains and asked the dragons of the air for help. They laughed at him and spit fire and ice.
“Isi despaired. His depression was black and deep, but one of his scientists, named Haymtatlr, built a horn attuned to the skein of fate that underlies the universe. He sucked in enough wind that it is said he stilled all the winds on the face of the planet and then blew that mighty wind through the horn he named Kyatlarhodn.
“Upon the blowing of the Kyatlarhodn, the skein of fate began to vibrate in a harmony that hadn’t been heard since the universe was formed. This harmony created the first of the preer at a place called Pilrust.
“Seeing that the proo led to another stathur, another reality, one pristine and lush, Isi started planning to conquer that land and use its resources to revitalize Osgarthr. The Isir, however, had grown tired of war. Indeed, Haymtatlr had created Kyatlarhodn in hopes of finding a way to escape Isi’s madness.
“The Isir tricked Isi into taking Nithukkr into a vast underground cavern. Once he was inside, they sealed the cavern’s only entrance to the land above. Falling farther into despair, Isi used the power of Nithukkr to melt the stone around him. He transformed himself and the crew of the Nithukkr into the dragons of the stone that reside deep in the heart of the planet. They are sometimes seen spitting their vile fire from the tops of shattered mountains in retribution for the Isir’s treachery.
“The Isir used Kyatlarhodn sparingly, and only to retrieve things that couldn’t be produced on Osgarthr any longer. In the beginning, vast foraging expeditions were sent to the stathur of the universe and returned with food, plunder, and metals that they used to build a new society out of the old.
“After the society was established, the Isir held a grand conclave at the Urtar Well in which it was decided that we would no longer use the weapons produced by the sons of Mim in warfare. The resolutions of the Grand Conclave have held through generation upon generation.”
I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me. “Surely most of that is just myth.”
Meuhlnir shrugged. “Who can say? That the Geumlu garnered great power from plundering the secrets of the universe can’t be questioned. That the Great War occurred and left the planet devastated is almost a surety. Of course, it might have been some natural disaster, but whatever the cause, the devastation was wide-spread, and the planet was decimated.”
“But all that about dragons and the—”
“None of that matters, Hank. The details and the exact whats and wheres do nothing but distract from the moral of the story—that some knowledge it is better not to know, that certain kinds of knowledge have the power to sicken the mind. Indeed, that using the fruits of that knowledge might be dangerous in and of itself.”
The silence stretched between us as I reviewed the story in my head. Meuhlnir and his family all thought that the creation myths of my klith were seeded by their actions, but this fantastical story was rife with creation mythology that he seemed unable to see.
“Meuhlnir, I have the greatest respect for you and your people, and I appreciate what you are doing for me. I don’t mean to step on your beliefs in any way, but the people on my klith use technology every day. Indeed, there are probably very few people left on my klith who could survive without the many technologies we use without thinking. I can’t say that any one of those people is rendered insane by using technology.”
“But we are not on your klith, and there are dangers here that you know nothing about. And, how could you? There are things here that don’t exist on your klith.”
“Yes, but—”
“No, Hank. There are dangers here left over from the Great War. Some of your technologies may awaken things best left sleeping.”
I scratched the stubble under my chin. “Are you saying you don’t want me to use my pistol?”
Meuhlnir shook his head. “No, to do so would hopelessly handicap you on this klith. There isn’t time to turn you into a vefari of any reliability, even if you have the greatest talent and capacity for it. And, truth be told, from how you described it, it sounds like simple alchemy.”
“I guess you could say that. Fire is just a chemical reaction—oxidation of fuel with heat as a catalyst. The explosion of the gunpowder in the shells I carry is just the oxidation of a much more powerful fuel.”
“I thought as much,” said Meuhlnir. “But you may have other bits of technology with you. Those things are the danger.”
“Almost anything I would have brought from my klith would require technology outside of itself to work. I mean the devices themselves just use a different kind of chemical reaction to produce the small electrical charges they need to operate, but other than showing pictures on the screen of my phone, or using the flashlight, they can’t do much here.” I spread my hands toward the sky. “No WiFi, no Internet, no satellites.”
“I will have to take you at your word. I know nothing of these things. Perhaps Veethar will know more, he has spent more time on your klith during modern times than me.”
“So, you are okay with the gun?”
“Yes,” he said. “Given what you’ve told me. Even with your gun, you are in danger here. More danger than you might guess at. There are those… There are things here that your gun might not kill.
“Vowli is as dangerous a man as Luka. You’ve heard the beginnings of what has grown into a very dangerous philosophy. This practice of gaining power by eating human flesh grew directly from his words.”
“Itla sem yetur,” I said.
“Yes. And Briethralak Oolfur.”
“The Brotherhood of the Wolf,” I breathed.
“Luka and his disciples, of which Vowli is said to be the first, though who is whose disciple seems open to debate, are all the result of continuing their dark philosophy to a ridiculous extreme. Vowli is dangerous.”
“I understand,” I said, “but so is your brother Luka. So is the Black Queen.”
Meuhlnir nodded. “But Vowli is different, Hank. You’ve spoken to me of true evil, and though I argued against it, the entire time we spoke, Vowli kept coming to mind. He may be the exception to my arguments.”
“Be that as it may, he is dangerous no matter where I am, no? Here or at your cabin?”
“Well, yes,” said Meuhlnir. “But there are protections at the cabin. Defenses that no one can dispel without a lot of effort and power. You’re safer there.”
“I understand your concerns, Meuhlnir. I do. But the fact remains that I can’t just go back and wait at your cabin.”
“But you can, Hank. I can go to Veethar, and with his help, we can sort out the—”
“No,” I said. “I can’t just go back to your warm cabin and sit while you put yourself at risk for me. They are my family, Meuhlnir. I have to share the risks, or I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand doing nothing but waiting.”
Meuhlnir nodded in a grudging manner. “If our positions were reversed, I couldn’t either.”
“I appreciate you thinking of me and my safety, but I have to go on.”
Meuhlnir looked at me sidelong. “It is agreed, then, but on one condition.”
“What condition?”
&n
bsp; “That you allow us to lead you where we must.”
“That…seems fair,” I said.
“Good.” Meuhlnir patted my arm. “You will see many things, Hank. Things you may not be prepared to face. Things that your tools might be powerless against, things that will shake your mind to its very foundations.”
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I lifted my free hand and waved it in a wide semicircle. “This… All this has already done that.”
Meuhlnir shook his head. “No, Hank. This has merely scratched the surface.” He favored me with an enigmatic smile. “How are your pains?”
“Sif’s cream is wonderful,” I said with enthusiasm.
Meuhlnir laughed and clapped me on the shoulder. We turned back toward the camp.
“Whatever the cause, the tribulations of Osgarthr’s past have left you with a beautiful land.”
Meuhlnir nodded. “It is beautiful in most places on this side of the planet, but even now, so many eons later, there are parts of this planet that are barren, blighted. Some places are still so poisonous that it is certain death to walk there.”
“Is there any kind of timeline? Any guesses at how long ago your Ragnaruechkr happened?”
Meuhlnir scratched his head. “No, not really. Remember that we are long lived. Remember that a generation for us is probably more than ten of your life times. Because of those facts, written history is less important to us than oral history. Written records don’t last as long as we live, and to rely on them would mean we would spend an inordinate amount of time recopying old records, until, eventually, all we could do from dawn to dusk is recopy historical records.
“My great-great-great grandfather remembered hearing, as a child, tales of the Grand Conclave from a very old man who claimed to have taken part in it. Perhaps twelve and a half thousand years?”
“And do you not suffer memory loss as you age?” I couldn’t believe there was space for a thousand years of memories in my brain, and if there was, I couldn’t believe I’d be able to access them all.
Blood of the Isir Omnibus Page 24