Harvest Of Evil

by William Lehman

  "Mary, I'm cooking. Is there anything in the house that you're allergic to?" I asked.

  "You're making awfully free with my house for a first date, don't 'cha think?" Mary said with a grin.

  "Well, it's the least I can do, after last night… The healing I mean."

  "Of course that's what you mean. Well, if you take my virtue so cheaply then," she couldn't hold it anymore and burst out in a fit of giggles. (Have I mentioned that giggles really do it for me? Especially if they jiggles when they giggles.)

  "Mary, stop that damn it; or we'll never get any food, and they'll find nothing but a pair of desiccated corpses on the bed with no explanation for cause of death. I'm starving, woman."

  "OK, I'm not allergic to anything in the kitchen. Let's see if you can find your way around a real kitchen without a map." Mary grinned again, "That is a prerequisite for a long term relationship, you know."

  I thought about continuing the jibes with questions about 'who said anything about a relationship', but I thought better of it. I decided that I didn't want to say anything that might cause Mary to think I wasn't interested in a relationship, as I sort of liked the idea. I went back to the kitchen and started going through the fridge. Let's see, onions, green peppers, mushrooms, ham, two types of cheese, and eggs. Perfect. That wasn't all that was in the fridge of course, but that's what I needed. Now… bowls, where did she keep the bowls? Ah, here they are. There's a big Le Creuset skillet hanging over the cook top, that'll be perfect. (I've never cooked in one of these, but they're supposed to be enameled cast iron, and fantastic stuff. For the price they better be, we'll see…) I found the knives and started prep work. After about thirty minutes, I had a pair of really decent four-egg omelets with sautéed onions, peppers, and mushrooms, ham and cheese. And yes, the La Creuset was as advertised. I still like my regular Lodge cast iron, but this stuff would go through the dish washer. I found plates, poured orange juice, found a platter and silverware (actually stainless steel, thank the gods,) and took the results back to the bedroom.

  Mary seemed to approve of the omelet, and the orange juice. I approved of other things. About an hour latter, I decided that I couldn't put off my duties any longer. "Mary," I said, as I pulled on some pants, "I really hate to leave, but I have to do some studying for court tomorrow, and if I don't go home and do some work with Uncle Lars, he'll have my ass."

  "Nuh uh, that's mine now." she muttered, then sat up straight in bed, saying, "Wait a minute, I just put it together. Shit, and I talked to him last night and never recognized his voice. Is your uncle a bit over six foot, a big barrel chested man with white hair, owns a freaking island?"

  "Yeah, that's him," I said. "Why?"

  "Let's just say we know each other by reputation, and we've met once or twice." She had a slightly wistful look on her face. "If he were about twenty years younger, hell, maybe ten, you and I would not be having this conversation."

  "Woman, I don't want to hear about your fantasies for someone over twice your age, nor do I want to hear about your past conquests, be they few or many. I'm just happy that you decided to add me to your list, and I only want to hear about how you want me." I said with a laugh. "Now however, I really do have to go home, and study for court, or I'm liable to lose a case tomorrow against a real scumbag. That would completely ruin my day, so… Farewell, sweet maiden, until we meet again."

  Mary looked back with that really great smile of hers, and said, "Well, I don't know about sweet, and I think we've adequately proved that I'm no maiden, but…See you tomorrow?"

  "Sure," I said as I walked over to get my pistols and pulled my shirt on. When I went out into the Great Room, I picked up my suit, which might be repairable, and pulled on my boots. The hat I hadn't even bothered to salvage from the scene. I knew it was toast. I walked out to the Durango and fired it up, then pointed her for home. In spite of getting my ass seriously kicked last night, I had a spring in my step and a smile on my lips. Life was good. Most of the rest of the day was spent studying my report, the RCWs, and the Federal codes. This lawyer was supposed to be sharp, and I didn't want to get caught out by some bullshit technicality.

  *****

  Lars had been in the wood shop when I got home, and looked up at me, waved and went back to what he was doing. I figured I would catch up with him at dinner. Lunch had been spent reading and rereading paperwork, while shoving a Dagwood in my face. By 16:00, I was done, burned out. So it was time for me to start supper and give this crap a rest. I had a rather nice elk roast from last years hunt, (and no, I don't see an issue with eating elk when the lady I'm seeing can become an elk. She implied that she can become several other animals too, and what the Hel are the odds of a cat going vegan?) I put it on the rotisserie with a light rub, roasted some potatoes and carrots and popped some Pillsbury rolls in the oven. (One thing I don't do is bake.)

  By the time dinner was ready, Lars was coming in for the evening. I half wanted to ask him if he had planned the timing, or if it was a fortuitous accident, however, there are some things that you just don't want to know. If you know the trick, sawing the lady in half isn't nearly as cool. As I got the roast out, Lars went to the sink and washed up, then went back out the back door, and brushed the sawdust and wood shavings out of his hair and beard.

  As he came back in and sat down at the table, he looked at me and said, "So, you look really good for someone that got his ass seriously kicked last night. How you feeling?"

  I smiled and said, "Aside from a bit of a headache from eye strain over studying, I feel great."

  Lars looked at me and said "So… How was last night? I know damn well you weren't just sleeping. Hel, if I were a few years younger, I would be trying to get some of that."

  "Ya know, funny you should mention that. Mary said that if you were a few years younger, well OK lots of years younger, she would have let you. Once she realized who my 'uncle Lars' is, that is."

  "Yeah well, I may be old, but you would be surprised what an old man can teach you. Seriously, are you all right?"

  "Well, that depends on what you mean by all right. If you mean, am I healthy, then the answer is damn straight I am. If you mean do I have a serious raging desire to kick some Aztec ass all over the sidewalk, then yes, I'm more than just a little pissed. If you mean am I mentally straight, then the answer is a definite: Maybe."

  "I see." Lars looked at me with a nod and continued, "So she got to you did she?"

  "Oh yeah. I'm not quite ready to pick out china yet, but it wouldn't take much pushing."

  "Well good. One of the good things about being Asatru, we ain't monks. Fact is, monks used to be one of our lawful prey, but that's a different story. Marriage is neither a help nor a hindrance, to our line of work, but a help mate is definitely a boon. I was married for twenty-eight years, until Robyn came up with something neither I nor the doctors could heal. It was her time. Thor is my patron, but Tyr showed up instead, and made it clear that it wasn't my time. I still had things to do before I could come home. Never argue with a God, boy, it wastes your time and annoys the God. Believe me on this one."

  I nodded and waited for him to go on. As I waited, I started a fire in the wood stove. It was getting chilly, and it gave me something to do.

  "I've known of Mary Two Elks for over half her life. I met her several times, some of which she probably remembers, many that I'm sure she doesn't. I knew her parents, good people. A little too hung up on how 'their people had been wronged' but, good people none the less. Her dad would have made a good Einherjar if he hadn't been solidly on the path of his families' gods. I am sure he hunts with the great ones of Indian legend. There are times when you will be required to do works for the good of all men of good will. You will work with others not of your faith, but for the good of all faiths. It was during such a time that I came to know Mary's parents, and at a later such time, Mary herself." He looked wistfully into the fire I had started, then clapped his hands on his knees, and rubbed them together. "Enough wool gathering.
It's time for lessons. There is much work still to be done, and our time is short."

  We spent the next several hours in guided meditation, exploring my real self. You have no secrets from your Goti, not if you are a student. In the end, you have no secrets from yourself either. This is a mixed blessing. We are often happier not knowing everything about ourselves. Most everyone has secrets that they hide even from themselves, things about WHY they do what they do, inner urges and drives that they lie to themselves about. It's what keeps most folks sane. I had less of these than some folks do, if you've been in combat, and if you've gone through BUDS and hell week, you learn a bit about yourself. Still, I had secrets that others had hidden from me. I know the PTB had what they thought were good reasons to bury some of the memories of things I had done while Baresark, but damn it, that was a part of me. I would never be whole until I had faced those monsters. Lars worked with me on that, and taught me how to do it on my own, as well. He explained that I needed to view and review each of the events separately until I had fully accepted and understood what had happened, what I had done and why. He also took me to a deep place; call it the over-world, call it Asgard, call it the spirit world, or call it T.M.; we went there. I was introduced to Tyr. He seemed as a man to me, but MORE man than anyone I had ever seen. He was big, sure, but I had known large guys before. Hel, my knight when I was starting in the SCA was six foot, eight inches. Tyr didn't seem to be that tall to me. But he was more THERE than anyone I had ever experienced. You could feel the power and the majesty coming off of him. He was blond, blue eyed, bearded, and had but one hand, his left. I knew the story of how the other one had been lost, and if you don't, you should. It teaches much about honor and justice as my forbearers knew it. Still, Tyr was not a brooding Norseman, like some of the movies would have you believe the Norse were. He was very full of life and joy, the wonder of sheer existence. He laughed and wondered aloud if I shouldn't be sworn instead to Freya. After all, cats are her thing. Then he slapped me on the shoulder, and said, "You'll do, boy. You'll do." He grabbed me by the left shoulder, and looked into my eyes, saying "Do you pledge yourself to my service, knowing full well that it may never profit you in gold? Knowing that it may be long, and hard, often unglamorous and at the end you may be asked to die that another live? Do you vow to do my work, even at the cost of your own needs, and at needs, at the cost of your mortal life? And finally, do you vow to treat all men with justice, rewarding honor with honor, truth with truth, dishonor and cowardice with disdain, and treachery with death?"

  I looked him in the eye and said, "I do."

  "Then I, for my part, vow to reward your service in like fashion. Rewarding honor with honor, truth with truth, dishonor and cowardice with disdain, and treachery with the final death that sends your soul to the realm of Hel, where cold and ice will be your reward. Until the call at Ragnarok, when all bonds are broken and all the monsters are freed to fight on the side of the giants against the Aesir. But prove yourself in my service and I will grant you a place at my right hand, mouth fame among the heroes of Asgard, and life eternal until the final battle, at which good and evil will fight for the future of Midgard, your universe. At that time, you will be by my side, and our forces will banish evil forever, or make such an end as will never be forgotten by mortal, or immortal kind." With that, he struck me a great blow to the side of my head with the side of his sword, saying "Let this be the final blow you ever take unanswered."

  *****

  At that, I came back to myself, and opened my eyes on my living room. There was no doubt that it had been real, for one thing I had a bruise on the side of my head. I was about done in, but there was something I needed to do yet tonight. Lars was still in meditation, discussing something with Tyr I guess. I slipped out of the house, took off my clothes, and slipped into full cat form.

  Oh gods, that felt good. I hadn't been able to do this in over a week. And a damn stressful week it had been too. I needed to just be one with the woods and nature. Meditating, and communing with the gods was certainly a stress reliever of a sort, but running with the wind as my brother, had been a purifying experience for me for years. Before I dealt with the court bullshit tomorrow, I needed to get my head straight. I walked out in the direction of the lake, not really hunting, but if anything crossed my path, well, let it look after itself. I shifted into a ground-eating lope, senses at full alert. Now I can smell, see and hear things with a preternatural ability even in human form, but that's nothing compared to what I can get as a Cat. I noticed something else too, I could see a sort of a bubble around the house and grounds. I had never seen this before, but I could tell that it had Uncle Lars' finger prints all over it. As I crossed through it, I caught a smell that I wasn't likely to forget. Civatateo, but old. A day or more at a guess, and older scent as well. Some up to a week old. OK, so, they had been watching me. This brought back a memory of when I had brought the victim's gold to Mary and Bird. I had been stalked by a big bird then, too. OK, so they are hunting me, too. Cool, bring it on.

  14

  I woke up the next morning at 05:30, did my usual morning routine calisthenics, then got ready to meet the day. Court today, that meant full uniform, complete with Smokey the Bear hat and tie. I don't mind the hat, fact is I sort of like it, but the tie. Yuck. I want to go back in time and find the yutz that came up with the idea of putting men in ready-made nooses as fashion, I figure I'll choke him to death slowly. Oh well, that which can't be cured must be endured. After I got into full monkey suit, I went down to the kitchen and got breakfast, nothing too spectacular, fried egg sandwich and coffee, as usual. Then it was off to the courthouse. Court wasn't until 08:00, but I needed to talk to the Prosecutor before the trial started, and besides traffic would, as usual, BLOW. I hopped into the Durango, and checked in with the dispatcher, informing her that I was in service, and on my way to court in Seattle. Then I pulled out and headed for the zoo that is I-5. The drive out to I-5 is usually painless and today was no exception, traffic was light, and except for the drizzle and darkness that is the normal condition for this time of year, it was good. I-5 was light until I got to Marysville then it started to go to shit. I don't know why there is always shitty traffic starting around Marysville and through Everett, but unless you hit it in the middle of the night, the traffic is bad. I'm sure that there is some sort of science that studies how and why traffic fouls up, probably a part of the civil engineering courses. What ever it's called, the guy that laid out this section of road FAILED it. There is no apparent reason for the bollix up, no accidents, no funky interchanges, but never the less, it's always there. Then just past the hill coming south out of Everett, the backup started.

  *****

  Some poor fool had cut off a semi down around the south-bound start of the express lanes, and the resultant wreck had backed up traffic all the way back. They had to cut the car apart to get at the body, and the wreck was bad enough that the Statey that responded had called in a mage to do fire suppression while they extracted the body. As I got closer to the wreck I could smell him, garlic and onions. I guess they could have used foam or some other fire suppressant, but anything they used would have ended up washing into the Ship Canal, and probably caused a fish kill. Mages aren't cheap, but the State police keep a couple on retainer anyway, because they're cheaper than an environmental lawsuit. Especially here on the left coast.

  Every once in a while, out here in the Tree Hugger capital of the world, some bright boy suggests that we use mages to clean up the environment, or to replace polluting industry or… Some folks just don't get the basic concepts. Einstein will not be ignored, and his Transuniversal Field theory will not be blown off. Magic is a form of energy, Period. You can't get something for nothing, and no amount of wishing will change that. If we could find enough mages, I suppose we could do something about the pollution problems, but the energy required would be on a close order of magnitude to the amount of energy used to crap up the place. That's just not economically possible. And w
hile some of the energy production facilities do use magic, either to do something that technology can't, or to do something that can be done cheaper by magic, good mages make about the same salary as neurosurgeons. This is for a good reason, they're about as rare.

  Mary makes more than I do, and she just teaches. (By the way, I make a 'Really Good Living.') The real money is in private industry, as usual, or in the medical professions. Still I don't think either of us would trade our jobs in for twice as much money. Both are sacred callings, in my mind. Then there's the fact that magic brings it's own risks into the game. Everyone of my age remembers what happened with Soyuz 9. Magic's quicker, but if it goes wrong, the destruction can make a chemical explosion pale by comparison.