Alfheim

by Erik Schubach

  Jania sang out, “That isn't what she asked dear brother. Would you have me share for...”

  He snapped out to silence her, “Stumble Foot.”

  A chuckle rippled through the Elves and he smiled a bit in spite of himself. Aphrodite laid her head on his shoulder and said, “I think it is a fine name, don't listen to them.” The man stood taller.

  I rolled my eyes. We'd be lucky to get out of Alfheim without half its people being enamored with my... Zeus' Balls, I almost called Dite, my girl. I blushed at my line of thought, the little girl in my head teasing, “She is your girl now, silly.”

  We reached the bottom of the sweeping carved stairs and just as we approached the inner gates, which weren't half as impressive as the outer gates had been, they creaked open as no less than a hundred archers at the top of the wall trained their bows upon us. I was beginning to feel like we weren't welcome here.

  I had to stifle a snort when my Verr scrolled a message, “You make humor, Far Striker. We are not welcome here, so you state the obvious.” I had to work on their dry sense of humor.

  Jania pulled her hood up over her head and down to shadow her eyes and face as she pulled her bow off her back, without drawing an arrow, and slipped into the mix guards around us, shuffling her feet and keeping her head down. Our group got the message, she didn't wish to be recognized for some reason.

  For a moment I thought she didn't want people associating us with her, but I realized it was something else. These people expected her to be something other than what she chose for herself in life. They wanted a princess who would stand by their All Mother and take her place one day. Jania wanted something else, something that didn't shackle her down by tradition and rank. I understood. It is why I always took the missions no other Olympian wanted.

  Our Elven friend wanted that sense of adventure and discovery. She wanted to feel alive. I slid up to Samantha, who was looking back at the woman and I slipped her arm in mine as I whispered, “Don't draw attention to her.” Then I smiled widely and said, “We're at the capitol city of Alfheim, have you ever seen such wonders?”

  She looked back one last time, then exhaled and nodded once and started looking around in awe as we stepped through the gates, the crowd of people going about their business parted for the guards and then there was silence as we were led through the gates.

  After a moment, whispers started rippling through the crowd. I caught snippets of people speaking of kleshnie, and how it was sacrilege to allow them into the city. Then there was something about unclean. To my surprise there were also murmurs of excitement, speaking of travelers from the God Portal from the temple beyond the outer wall.

  But then someone shouted in fear, “Andskoti!” as she pointed at Intark. There were some screams, and parents rushed their children away. And the shouting began. People were calling out for Intark's head, and they started throwing spoiled vegetables and mud at our friend, some even identified Inatra, though she was quite small for a Ragnarok, as Andskoti, but she batted away any of the rotting projectiles before they reached her and hissed violently at them like a Terran cat.

  We all moved in tight around Intark while he just stood impassively while he was pummeled by the ripe-smelling projectiles. I have never seen Essa look afraid before. Not afraid for herself but for the man she loved, the man she took as a mate. She started to raise a hand, the other Ember's hands mimicking the motion in that synchronization they have, and I knew their impenetrable shield was about to come up around our group.

  They hesitated when Jania made an exasperated sound and stepped up beside us, sweeping her hood back, revealing herself to the incensed Elves around us. She almost roared out, “Enough!” And the crowd silenced in shock.

  Murmurs started circulating again, 'princess' being the topic of those murmurs as first one man, then a woman, and the rest of the crowd started dropping to take a knee. She sighed and turned to Intark, standing on her tiptoes and picking a leafy vegetable that had turned brown and slimy off of his shoulder as she asked, “Are you ok, big man?”

  He inclined his head then shrugged. “It is nothing. I understand.”

  She winked at him then she turned to the masses and just glared at the people who were now looking on in a reverence which obviously made her uncomfortable.

  Then she looked up at the buildings soaring up into the treetop, circling the trunk, and at what could only be described as a castle halfway up, as the centerpiece of the mind-boggling city in the sky. It had gracefully carved, stone towers and ramparts, with colorful silken streamers rustling in the wind.

  I noted a person standing in the window of the highest tower, and wishing I could see who it was, I felt a rush of vertigo as an overlay bloomed in my vision and zoomed in, the window rushing up to me as I saw Queen Nerthus watching the whole display, an unreadable expression on her face.

  Jania shouted up to her, though she was far too high to hear from there. I hesitated and looked at Jania's pointed ears. Maybe the Queen actually could hear her daughter's words. “Is this what you wanted when you had them bring Intark? Or perhaps you wanted a riot and for them to kill the man in cold blood?”

  She looked around, her anger flaring as she growled at the crowd, “Get up and let us pass. Go about your business. Is this how the Ljósálfar act when a man, tied and defenseless is brought into our lands? We are better than that! We are not Dökkálfar. Do not shame me in front of our guests.”

  People were scrambling to do her bidding, some looked ashamed, but others still gave wary or hateful glances toward our Ragnarok friend.

  Our group started moving again, as our guides led us toward the great tree, Jania almost stalked over in her exasperation and anger and claimed Samantha's arm again with a huff. I could tell she was almost as upset about having to reveal herself to the Elves as she was about how they treated a man that I knew she saw as a friend.

  Her rage wavered when she looked over to see Samantha studying her intensely, then she smiled and shrugged sheepishly and she regained the playful bounce in her step, causing the gentlest of the Embers to blush.

  We reached one of many gorgeous, intricately carved staircases leading up to the first of the... what word could I use? The first level of the treehouses? I placed my hand on the railing, realizing it was carved like interwoven vines which just complimented the majesty of the tree. Then we started to climb.

  My words cannot do justice to the views we were treated to the higher we climbed. And I lost track of the various bridges we crossed to reach different levels of branches and buildings. There were merchants and shops and even some basic eateries and even bars and inns interspersed with what would be more modest cottages and dwellings if they had been ground-side.

  Then we finally reached the castle, at a bridge that seemed to be carved from a single plank of wood that was at least ten meters wide and a meter thick. Like the stairs and rope bridges, it was carved like a woven sheet of vines and flowers, giving it a natural and organic flow which deposited us at the soaring wood gates of the palace of the Queen of the Light Elves.

  Breem stood tall and stepped up to the doors, where a great ring knocker, eight feet in diameter hung. It must have weighed three or four hundred pounds. He shoved a shoulder under it and with a straining grunt, he pulled it forward a few inches and then let it go, causing it to thump against the door, and he repeated the effort twice more.

  Kara asked Jania in a whisper, “Is... is he knocking on the door?”

  Jania's sigh and silence was all the confirmation we needed. Then the voice of someone who sounded as ancient as the stars themselves called out, “Who is it?”

  Breem said with authority, “It is Breem, the Senior Story Teller to the Queen, and Kalamish, First Proctor of the City Tree of Allrbus, here to seek an audience with the All Mother.”

  After a moment, the voice responded, “Who?”

  The man sputtered, “It's Breem and... just open the doors you senile old bat. Th
e Queen is expecting us.”

  “Sorry. The Queen is expecting guests. Go away and come back on Harvest Day.”

  The man sputtered, “You addle-brained, cantankerous old...”

  Jania stepped forward and stopped his frothing reprimand with a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her in exasperation and her eyes twinkled in mischief as she called out in a melodious tone, “Nanny Ree? It's Jania.”

  There was a slight pause then the sound of huge timbers being slid aside with a thud when they reached the bollards, then a thrum and the big doors started to swing inward revealing the oldest female Elf I have ever seen. Old age is a foreign concept to both Olympians and the Asgard, so we look upon those who are wizened with age, with silver hair and wrinkles as a fascination. We view them with great reverence because, though mere babies in our eyes, living less than a century before their light is extinguished, they bear the weight of that mortality and the wisdom it imparts.

  The old woman said with a silly grin, “Jania! Why didn't you just say so?” She shoved a sputtering Breem aside easily, belying her fragile stature as she pulled Jani into a hug. “It has been too long, girl. I thought I'd never see you again before time claimed me as its own.” She shook her head like a mother would at a misbehaving child. “Running off to other worlds.”

  She released her and looked her up and down as if our friend were her own daughter, making me realize that Jania had inferred that this lady was her nanny. Our friend took her hand and turned to us, “Everyone, this is Ree Sharp Sight, Gatekeeper of the Green Palace. Nanny Ree, this is the group the All Mother is expecting.”

  She nodded and then narrowed her eyes at Intark. I almost sighed in resignation, expecting the same reception as he had received below. Instead, she puttered forward tsking, “You can't see the Queen like this child, you're filthy.” She started brushing vegetable debris and mud off of him and then she hesitated and craned her neck to look up, way up. Her eyes widened and she said, “My but aren't you a tall one?” Then she was poking his ribs and saying, “You aren't eating enough, too skinny for your size, child.”

  Then she noted his hands tied behind him. She paused then took one step back and spoke out the side of her mouth, “The poor boy is bound.”

  Jania just nodded. “One of Mother's unfathomable machinations it would seem.”

  She nodded and grinned. “Most likely.” Then she slapped the back of Breem's head. “Feed the poor boy when you get a chance. We aren't animals, he needs to be treated Elfmanely.”

  Breem started to argue, “He's not Elf, you old bat, he's a...”

  She cocked an expectant brow and the Elf shrank back. “Yes, Ree.”

  Then she turned back to Intark and craned her neck again, holding her hands up. The big man looked around then leaned down and she placed her hands on his cheeks. “Don't let this lot discourage you, young one. Chin up and only good things will bless you as all things are in nature.”

  He looked at a loss, so just rumbled out, “Thank you, ma'am.”

  She beamed and told Jania, “What a polite boy. You could do worse, you're still young.” She nudged her head toward the now embarrassed looking Intark as Inatra covered her smile with her hand.

  Jani sputtered out, “Nanny Ree! Intark is already spoken for. And I like another...” Her mouth shut so fast I heard her teeth click, her eyes wide at the slip. I have never seen our Elf friend turn quite that shade of red before.

  Samantha tucked her hair behind her ear in that bashful habit she had. Was that hope in her eyes?

  Ree leaned in and kissed Jania's cheek and said, “Go, your mother awaits.”

  Then as our group headed in, the Gatekeeper started growling and shouting at the armed guards as she held her arms wide, blocking them from following. “Out out out! Your services aren't needed here!” She motioned her hand and the big doors started creaking closed, I saw men and women turning great cranks at the walls. Then some sort of animal that looked a cross between a Terran horse and a Folkvangr longleg, started clomping its hooves on the stone floor as it strained, pulling a huge wooden timber on rollers across the door, settling it in on the huge metal cradles, barring the door.

  I glanced back and Ree waved at me. I had to smile and wave back. Then Dite reclaimed my arm as hers and whispered, “What happened to her?”

  I hesitated a moment, pulling her to a stop. I smiled sadly, realizing that the oldest people she had ever seen were Odin and Geiravor, and even they only looked to be physically thirty-five or forty in Terran years. I told her as I watched her reaction, “Nothing has happened to her. Time marches on for some races, while it is static for us. She is just old, Dite.”

  She looked back and I could see the sad realization of the woman's mortality sinking in as my girl's hair turned to blues of sorrow streaked with black. And she said quietly, “I like her.” I nodded agreement, then she was squeaking as I pulled her quickly along to catch up with the others.

  We reached a white arched door where four guards armed with pikes stood. Two male and two female, in gleaming metal armor instead of the leather armor the other Elvish warriors wore. Jania stepped forward and batted the crossed pikes away and motioned us to follow her as the guards stood at attention. She swung the doors wide and stepped into a receiving room, with a throne that looked to be made of flowers and moss at the center.

  She said to the familiar, regally beautiful woman with a crown of flowers which looked like daisies, as we all filed in, “Hello... mother.”

  Chapter 5 – Queen Nerthus

  We all took a knee, bowing deep, all except Jania. The two seemed to be in a battle of wills, not being the first to break the uncomfortable silence, daring the other to with their eyes. We all closed our eyes when Breem cleared his throat. It was all I could do to keep from slapping my forehead. I was starting to wonder about the man's utility at all.

  It was enough to break the silence and the women looked over at him without either conceding since he dared to interrupt something they obviously needed to work out between them. “All Mother, I have brought the delegation as you ordered.”

  She made a dismissive motion with her hand as she studied us, and we all stood. She prompted with a brow arched, “And the Andskoti male? Why is he bound? And why did you do nothing when the people at the gates started with the mob mentality?”

  Breem blinked, at a loss for words and Kalimish attempted a defense, “But my Queen, you said to...”

  She stopped him with a raised hand. “I said that you were to have guards watching him, and 'if' he caused problems, you were to dissuade him of it.” The men didn't say a word since her hand was still up. She prompted as she dropped her hand, “So, did he?”

  Breem asked, “Did he what, my Queen?”

  “Cause any problems?”

  Their silence was all the answer the woman needed. She said, “Regardless of their past, we are better than those who enslaved our race. We show compassion where they... did not, it is what separates us from them.”

  She looked over at Intark, eyes narrowed as she took him in. “You did not react when the townsfolk turned on you.” Then without waiting for any response, she nudged her chin toward him then looked at the guards. “Those are unnecessary. Set him free.”

  Intark inclined his head at the Queen of the Elves with a wry smile. “Oh, you mean these?” He pulled his hands forward, the ropes strained and snapped with little hesitation. Kalimish and Breem gasped. I sometimes forget just how strong the big man is, especially now that he has Asgard nanites flowing through his blood. “It put your people at ease... Highness.”

  Ok. I looked around, hadn't anyone else caught the smile the Queen fought off? Dite had a sculpted brow of her own arched as she watched the Queen closely. Ok, she saw too if the little green tendril streaking through her honey brown locks was any indicator.

  What games were afoot here?

  Kara took a step forward and bowed deeply. “Great All Mother of the Ljósá
lfar, we represent Asgard and Olympus and have come to beg an audience with...”

  “I know why you are here. It is why anyone who lives out among the stars comes to Alfheimr. You need something from us. We will have time enough for all of this unpleasantness and can engage in talks after the night claims the sky.”

  Jania snorted. “Oh, what fresh hell have you thought up for my friends?”

  Her mother's regal demeanor cracked like the surface of a frozen lake when spring makes its way to the surface as she snapped, “Our law forbids friendship with any kleshnie!”

  Jania smirked and shrugged. “What will you do, mother? Banish me? Like maybe to the ends of the galaxy to be your eyes and ears among those same people you forbid me to forge bonds with? To gather the trinkets you place such value on?” Her voice was raising as she waved her hand around the room.

  I finally took in the space better, since all of my and everyone else's attention had been on the throne and its occupant who was striding toward our Elfish friend with a warning in her eyes.

  There were dozens, if not hundreds of glass cases on pedestals filling the chamber like exhibits in some sort of museum. And inside of each case were items from the many worlds. From the mundane like clothing and shoes, to complete holo-pads and iso-pads from the Ragnarok and Asgard. A glove from my old gear from Valhalla was in one. I was wondering where I had lost it. It was specially made to relieve the strain of the photonic bowstring on my fingers with a trilithium reinforced monofilament carbon fiber weave which resembled animal leather.

  A complete, Terran built, mini magnetic force harvester was sitting on a large, carved wood shelf which looked almost as if it had grown out of the stone and timber floor. That thing was compact, so that the elite fighting squad from Earth, the Wildcards, could carry one in a backpack to power the rest of the squad's exoskeleton armor and weapons.

  Hold on, was that a wind spider beside it?

  Jania started twirling, almost dancing through all of the displays, looking into them and cartwheeling over others as she asked, “Who sends you all these trinkets and toys that are worthless to us when your other ambassadors could not? You wished me to be your spy... wait...” She put a finger to her lips. “...your cultural ambassador to the other races in Valhalla. And I give no pretenses when I am with them, do you think races who can build wondrous machines that can hurl someone across the very heavens to new worlds are naive? No. I am your spy and they let me be that spy. They, like us, appreciate honesty.”