The Hammer of Thor

by Aiki Flinthart

  Far from getting Truda home, they managed only a few more kilometres before the short northern day dwindled quickly into grey evening. The village they’d hoped to reach was nowhere in sight and the forest bore no indications of human use – no wood-chopping, no clear paths, not even much animal life.

  Phoenix peered through the darkening dusk and swore. He hadn’t realised how much he’d come to rely on Jade’s superior, half-elven vision at these times. The moon was rising, and they couldn’t travel much further without food, anyway. They had to find shelter before nightfall but it darkness was creeping in mighty fast.

  “There!” Brynn called excitedly. “Up ahead there’s a cave, I think.”

  “Great!” Phoenix was relieved but as Brynn dashed off, a sobering thought occurred to him and he yelled out, “Be careful! Watch for..um..bears and stuff!”

  The youngster gave him a wave of acknowledgement over his shoulder and began to approach the cave mouth from the side, rather than front on. Marcus and Phoenix drew out their swords. Truda huddled against Jade, holding one lax hand. Jade swayed gently, still not alert enough even to run if there was trouble.

  Phoenix saw Brynn strike a spark with his flint and coax a small amount of brushwood alight. He then lit some sort of rag and wrapped it around a thick branch. As Phoenix watched, the boy peered cautiously around a protruding rock and flicked the branch deep into the cave.

  After a few tense moments, Brynn glanced back over his shoulder and gave a thumbs-up sign. Phoenix nodded and they all advanced. Inside the cave, the torch was still alight, its flickering golden flames sending shadows dancing across sloping stone walls. A small chamber off to one side of the larger front cave was safe and big enough to shelter them all easily. Best of all, it was dry and empty.

  Brynn inspected the floor and sniffed the air. He frowned and shook his head.

  “I don’t think anything lives here.” Hesitating, he looked around again. “It doesn’t smell like an animal den, anyway. But...” he sent a worried glance around.

  “I know what you mean,” Phoenix agreed, eyeing the rear of the cave where a large opening showed only vast darkness. “The ground is packed down here like something often walks through but it doesn’t smell like an animal den. People?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Marcus.

  Surprisingly, it was Truda who answered.

  “Oh no,” she assured them, “all the people live in houses, not in caves. The only time they use caves is for sacrifices to the Æsir but there’s no bones or anything, so it can’t be that.”

  “Æsir?” “Bones!” Marcus and Brynn spoke at once, asking exactly the questions Phoenix wanted to. He was getting kind of sick of Truda’s little surprises.

  “Oh,” she giggled. “I keep forgetting you’re from Albion, not here. The Bretons have different gods. The Æsir are the gods, like me,” she pointed a finger at her chest, “but the people who live in Midgard,” rolling her eyes, she stopped Brynn’s question before it started, “Midgard is this world, Asgard is where the Æsir live – where I live. Anyway – the people who live in Midgard sometimes make sacrifices to Grandpa Odinn.”

  “Sacrifices!?” Brynn squeaked.

  Truda grinned at his fear. “Silly, they don’t sacrifice people – at least, not much any more - just goats and stuff. It’s a bit gross, really.” She made a face. “It doesn’t look like they do it here, anyway.”

  “That’ll do,” Phoenix interrupted, hoping to turn the discussion away from bloody animal sacrifices to pagan gods. It was almost full night and they had yet to find food. This was no time to stand around discussing religious practices. Ushering his little band into the cave, he made another of Brynn’s torches then set him and Truda to gathering firewood. Marcus settled Jade on a stone ledge off to one side, well-wrapped in her furs and cloak. Much to Phoenix’s disgust, she promptly fell into a deep sleep from which no-one could wake her.

  “I guess she’ll just have to sleep it off,” he grumbled, standing over her inert form.

  Marcus cast her an anxious look. “I’ll try and find some game.” He glanced out the cave entrance. “I don’t like my chances at this time of night, though. Strange,” he frowned, “I haven’t seen many traces of small animals – or even big ones – since we crossed that river.”

  Phoenix exchanged worried looks with him and, together, they both gazed back at Jade.

  “Do you think it has anything to do with whatever she was afraid of?” Phoenix gave voice to the question they were both considering.

  “Possibly,” Marcus admitted, “but if something’s taken all the local game, we’re going to go hungry tonight.”

  “Well,” Phoenix sighed, “Go hunt but if you’re not back in an hour I’m coming after you.”

  The Roman gave a half-smile and gripped Phoenix’s forearm in a gesture of friendship and equality. Unslinging his bow, he turned and ran lightly out the entrance to be swallowed by the thin, cold darkness.

  Truda and Brynn returned with great armfuls of brushwood and branches. Most of it was damp, so the result was a smoky, smouldering fire that did little to heat the cave. Without complaint, Brynn bullied Truda into coming closer to dry her soaked boots and thaw her chilled hands. She pouted, coughed and complained about being hungry. The grumbling of their stomachs could be heard across the room.

  Sighing, Phoenix pulled out the Hyllion Bagia, thrust his hand in and hopefully requested food. Nothing slapped into his hand so he tucked the bag back into Jade’s pack. He knew the endless bag had Roman javelins, money and who knew what else in it but obviously they’d eaten all the food. Oh well, it had been worth a shot.

  There were a meagre few strips of baked bird-meat left in his pack. He handed them around with the advice to chew slowly as it might be all they got. Again, Brynn simply nodded while Truda groused. Phoenix glimpsed Brynn pushing his own share into Truda’s hand but decided not to say anything. The boy had proven himself tough enough for this journey over and over again. He wasn’t going to humiliate him by acting all fatherly and making him eat his food.

  When the hour was almost up, Phoenix moved to the entrance and stared out into the silent blackness. The first silvery rays of moonlight filtered through the canopy but the shadows still outnumbered any faint patches of light.

  Something wasn’t right. The feeling had been creeping irresistibly over him ever since they’d entered the cave. Something was very wrong and it had nothing to do with the gnawing hunger in his gut.

  Brynn appeared at his side, looking outside. Truda pattered up to huddle behind both of them, her face peeking out over Brynn’s shoulder.

  “I don’t like this. Marcus is taking too long but if I go you two will be unprotected with Jade still comatose.” Phoenix growled. “I wish we’d reached that village. At least we’d know where we are. Then, maybe, we could work out where to go next.”

  “Oh dear,” Truda said softly, “I hope he hasn’t run into a Troll.”

  Phoenix forced a laugh. “Don’t be silly. Of course he hasn’t run into a Troll.” Truda’s big eyes blinked solemnly up at him. “There’re no trolls around here!” he said sharply, hoping she would agree. “We don’t even know where we are. How could you know if there are trolls here?” There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as she continued to stare at him. “Please tell me there are no trolls here?” he begged.

  “But we’re in Trolltiven,” she stated. “Of course there are trolls.”

  “Of course there are trolls,” he repeated facetiously, slapping his own forehead. “Oh man!” He paused, eyeing Truda. “Hang on a sec. You said you didn’t know if you’d recognise Trolltiven. How can you be so sure now?”

  She widened her eyes. “Jade told me just before she fell asleep that we are in Svealand, so then I rec’nised it from when Pa took me hunting two summers ago. We’re in the great Tiveden forest. Trolltiven’s the bit in between Geatsland and Svealand. Nobody comes here – ‘cause of the trolls.” The look in his eye sent her ducking behi
nd Brynn.

  Phoenix clenched his fists together and shook them silently at the stone ceiling. Preserve me from all irritating, know-it-all, superior and yet amazingly stupid females, he yelled inside his head. It wasn’t safe to make that sort of request out loud in a world where gods really did exist and might just grant it. Right at this very moment, though, he would be very, very tempted to say ‘yes, please’ if some handy god offered to take both Jade and Truda away.

  Jade was an over-anxious brainiac sometimes but Truda was worse. She seemed to know instinctively exactly when to reveal bits of information so they would cause the most chaos. Telling them about Trolltiven before they’d let the wolves herd them headlong into it would have been a whole lot more useful!

  He should have paid more attention to Jade’s fears.

  Trying to get a grip on his frustration, Phoenix paced the short length of the cave a couple of times while Brynn and Truda watched him in wide-eyed silence. Sucking in five long, slow breaths, he finally put a lid on his emotions and faced the pair calmly.

  “OK, Truda,” he stood before her, arms folded. “Talk to me. Tell me where we are and where we need to go to get you home…. No!” he put out a hand to cover her mouth as she opened it. “Belay that. I have to get my priorities straight. Tell me about trolls. If Marcus is in trouble, I need to know how to defeat them.”

  She shook her head. “The only way I know of is daylight. They can’t be killed by anything else.” Her voice was muffled by his hand. Phoenix took it away and wiped it absently on his shirt.

  “Nothing?” He demanded. She shook her head again.

  “What about iron weapons?” He drew his sword. “If they’re magical creatures then they should be susceptible to iron like Jade is.” He half-turned to look at Jade’s peaceful features and remembered how Agricola’s iron blade had scalded her cheek in Britain. The druid’s Spring Rite had smoothed the mark away. Damn, if only she were awake, she could fight the troll with magic – or maybe not. Maybe this troll was what had been blocking her before.

  “Oh no,” Truda said with horrible cheerfulness. “Trolls aren’t like Elves. They aren’t affected by iron or magic. In fact, Trolls have such thick skin that weapons just bounce off and magic just doesn’t even work around them. Nope,” she shook her head blithely, “only sunlight kills them. Turns them to statues straight away.”

  “Fabulous. It’s only…oh… ten hours or so until morning.” He scrubbed both hands through his hair, trying to physically pull an idea out of his head. Jade. He needed Jade awake. She always seemed to come up with the brilliant schemes at the last minute. All he knew how to do was fight and apparently that wasn’t an option this time.

  Striding to Jade’s side, he shouted at her to wake up then reached out and shook her roughly. Her whole body flopped and her head, too. Brynn rushed over to push him aside.

  “You’ll break her neck,” the boy yelled. “Stop it!”

  Phoenix turned away and snatched up a waterskin. He poured liquid over her face. Surely that would work. Freezing water dribbled down her white cheeks and made little puddles in her ears and at the base of her throat. She slept on.

  “Dammit, Jade,” he whispered. “What do I do?”

  Outside, a hoarse, masculine scream sounded in the distance. It was followed by a sound like large rocks being forcibly ground against each other; and then another yell tinged with despair and fear. With one last, hopeless glance at Jade, Phoenix gripped his sword and strode toward the cave entrance.

  “What are you going to do?” Brynn peered up at him, his own little knife held tightly in one hand.

  Phoenix stared out into the darkness. “I have no idea but I have to help Marcus.” He laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Whatever it is, we’ll try and kill it or lead it away. Hole up in the small cave and if we’re not back by morning, take Jade to find that village and….I don’t know,” his mind was numb. “Do whatever she says.”

  “But weapons won’t work if it’s really a troll,” Brynn reminded him.

  “I know that but Marcus doesn’t. I have to help him. Look after the girls. I’m counting on you.”

  The boy swallowed and nodded. Swiftly, he made another torch from a rag and a thick branch. Handing it over he whispered, “Good luck.”

  Phoenix grinned through gritted teeth. “I think I’ll need it. You too.”

  Brandishing the torch before him, he stepped out into the inky night.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Phoenix walked into the crisp, cold darkness and shivered. The torch in his hand cast an uncertain orange light on the ground. Overhead, just visible through the sighing treetops, the waning moon shone in a star-dusted sky. Its pale light served only to make the shadows blacker and the trees bigger.

  Again the ominous sound of huge rocks grinding together echoed through the silent forest; and again Marcus yelled his defiance. Phoenix turned toward the noise and began to run - carefully. The torch sputtered and sizzled as he peered ahead, trying to pick the safest path. Once he stumbled and almost dropped the torch into a shadowy snowbank. Soon his breath came in sharp spurts as he pushed himself harder and took more chances. He had to get to Marcus before he was slaughtered.

  The grinding noise grew louder and Phoenix skidded to a halt as he came up to a large boulder. Holding his torch behind him, he edged forward and peeked around the corner. There, just visible in the centre of a large clearing, stood Marcus. His sword drawn, three dead hares at his feet, the Roman stared upward with a mixture of fear, defiance and resignation on his face. Phoenix followed his gaze and almost dropped his sword in shock.

  Towering over his friend was what appeared to be an enormous stack of grey, lichenous rocks, teetering in a strange, gravity-defying formation. The grinding sound he’d heard came from the very top. The piles moved. Phoenix swallowed a gasp of terror. With movement, the heap of rocks resolved into a horrendously huge, living thing. It was over twenty feet tall, with a body that appeared to be made of granite and limbs that were more of the same: lumpy, chunky, hard, stone. He supposed the misshapen pile of boulders on top could only be its head. It had to be a troll.

  From high above a long arm descended, thick fingers bunched into a fist. Marcus skipped aside and the fist smashed into the ground with the sound of a small earthquake, splattering the hares. As he turned Phoenix saw Marcus clutched only the hilt of his now-shattered blade. His bow was slung over his shoulder; the quiver empty of arrows. Again the arm smashed down; again Marcus danced away; again that crunching, grinding noise sounded – this time almost rhythmically. With a start, Phoenix realised it was the troll: laughing. The beast wasn’t trying to kill Marcus – it was playing with him!

  Marcus had to be tired. He had had little sleep after fighting the Romans in Stonehenge and the wolves had pushed them hard through the forest today. Phoenix could hear his breath coming in ragged gasps as he spun away once more. It was only a matter of time before Marcus lost his footing on the wet earth and was crushed to death beneath that juggernaut fist.

  Desperately, Phoenix looked around for inspiration. Where was Jade with her ideas when he needed her? Nothing leapt to mind. There were no convenient solutions lying around. His heart raced and his brain seemed to be swimming in stupidity. Thumping the heel of his hand against his own forehead, Phoenix cursed himself. Think, think!

  If he were sitting safely in his chair at home and this were on the computer screen, how would he handle it? Impossible leaps and ninja karate kicks wouldn’t help against a giant made of rock. What would? Not weapons or magic. What was left? Daylight. Phoenix glanced up the silvery moon. Hours away. What was a substitute for daylight then?

  A fragment of smouldering cloth fell from his torch, biting into the back of his hand. He absently pressed the small burn to his cold cheek then pulled it away to stare at the scorch mark. He looked at the burning torch.

  Well, it wasn’t daylight but, if the trolls were truly creatures of the night, perhaps they hated flame almost as
much. It was worth a try. He glanced around. What could he burn, though? Everything was soggy with the recent snow. Everything except...... Phoenix looked up at the nearest pine tree and grinned wickedly. Pine forests. Lots of flammable oils in pine needles. His mother was forever telling him, at Christmas time, to be careful in case their tree went up in flames from a carelessly held candle. So, now it was time to see if her worry was justified.

  Reaching up Phoenix touched the torch to the lowest branch of a tree and held his breath. The needles sputtered and sparked, flared and went out. Thin grey spirals of scented smoke soared into the air. No! It had to work. Resolutely, he pushed aside the horrible thought that their Christmas tree might actually have been plastic. Everyone knew that pine trees burned easily. He risked a quick look at Marcus. The boy half-knelt on the wet ground, shoulders heaving. He staggered back to his feet just in time to dodge another thunderous blow from the chortling troll.

  Phoenix thrust the torch right into the midst of a dense patch of needles. This time they caught, flickered, dimmed and then burst into bright little flames that ate their way quickly up to the base of each needle. He held his breath, watching, hoping. Just as he thought the fires would stutter and die, a gust of wind fanned the little flickers into bigger ones that jumped up to the next branch and the next. With a massive whoomph that seemed to suck the oxygen from his lungs, the whole tree overhead blazed and came alive with dancing golden light and heat. Startled, Phoenix shielded his face and backed away, afraid the whole thing might start dropping fire on him.

  There was a horrific, deafening avalanche of sound. He spun to find he’d backed into the clearing and Marcus was running full tilt toward him. The troll roared again and took two large steps toward them but the burning tree was right behind, warming their backs. The troll put his hands up to protect his craggy face and stayed where he was. He turned his ponderous head to and fro in an effort to see past the glare and find his quarry.