Their friendship was cemented even more once the Council formed, when their pantheons’ alliance grew stronger. There was only ever one thing that made their friendship uncomfortable: women. Melqart, being the Phoenician god of death could be morbid, and women seemed to go for light and lightheartedness, instead of the ‘look at these bones’ sort of talk. This time, Baldr wasn’t sure it would be too much different, but he had to try.
Melqart would know that he’d never found the women he’d wooed to touch his heart, or make him want more. It was only two summers ago that they’d conversed right here overlooking the temple, that Baldr had uttered words he’d entrusted to no one else, not even Thor.
But a part of him, a small voice, knew that his talking to Melqart about Nanna would wound their friendship, but it would heal with time, right?
“We are friends, correct?” Baldr began.
“As the day is long, and the night is chased by the sun, of course,” Melqart answered.
“I trust that what I say today will be in your utter confidence.” Baldr cleared his throat, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “My dreams...”
Melqart’s smile receded. “Your dreams?”
“Yes, it’s as if I live another life in them, and there is a woman—”
“Another one? You seem to need to spend more time in the courts of the gods instead of sleeping then. There are enough women to be had.”
“But this one is special.”
“That is what they all say until you unpack them and find that one is just like the other.”
“No, no, she is different; this is different.” Baldr paced. “The more I dream of her, the more the love between us blossoms, and the more hope grows.”
“Hope is a terrible thing, something that gods need not invest in. It is something that we instill in our believers, that they are to hope for a better answer, an answer from us, but often, what they receive is the opposite.”
“Dear friend, I only wish for the chance to find out.”
Baldr refused to provide any details. It wasn’t just about this woman, but about a connection they would have that would be stronger than any bond he’d ever had before. She’d trumped every woman he’d ever admired, for in his heart was carved out a place only she could fill.
Sonnets and poetry would be written about her, but she to him was already so much more. Strong? Yes. Admirable? Yes. Worth his crossing over to ask for her, despite the risk? Absolutely.
There was one rule between the pantheons: no poaching. They were not allowed to spy on those who belonged to the other gods. Such a thing could be looked on as theft, which was always dishonorable.
Yet, the Norns had sent him here to where his destiny was to begin: with her.
Melqart’s shoulders shook with mirth. “The last time a female caused you to be here, she’d been quite miffed at your attention.”
Minerva, the Roman goddess of wisdom, war, and art, had captured his attention after both sides had sought out a peace treaty between warring parties, and thanks to Melqart’s matchmaking, had found a moment of happiness—a short moment. He never knew what to expect from her, but sometimes she could be more than a little unhinged. Of course, that was the part of her being a deity of war. She enjoyed the fight and often spurred it.
Surely, if she found out about this woman he was to call Nanna, there would be issues as well, deadly and painful ones.
“I am seeking your permission to see if she is here,” Baldr said.
Melqart waved his servants away. “You jest, no? What is mine is mine, and I cannot so simply give it away. But come, I agree that we shall have a look.” Melqart rose from his ceremonial throne. “But what is the name of this woman?”
“Annôn, daughter of Hannibal Barca of Carthage.”
It did not take too long to locate the villa of Annôn. Surrounded in a circle of fully dressed warriors, with their swords at the ready, she twisted and turned, prepared to fight off any man who approached. All he heard was grunting combined with that of metal clanging against metal.
“What is she doing?” Baldr asked.
“What the women here do, of course. She is a fighter, a well-read one, too. With her father being a national hero, nothing else could be expected. He took on the Romans, and she doesn’t know it, but she will do the same thing.”
The scene stretched before him, and he saw that on the edges of the circle, as the fighters performed, were an array of children.
“And the children?”
“Oh, those? They are her wards. You see, Annôn is quite a hero here, and she has taken her palace to create a home for these… children, but that will only be for a while, as the molk-sacrifice has been approved.”
Baldr heard the glee in Melqart’s voice, as he stared at the human children, ranging in age from babies, swaddled and held by their wet-nurses, to age seven. They were dressed properly—no rags or threadbare clothing. Instead, clean and with filled stomachs.
He focused again on Nanna. Her red hair whipped around her flushed face with each twist and turn, as with ease, she pushed the men back, one after the other, slashing through the air with their sharp swords.
Baldr and Melqart watched from the other side of the veil. A part of him itched to help her, to rescue her even, but she didn’t need saving.
“We mustn’t rest men. Again,” she called out. Her voice was just as he remembered it: silvery and pleasant to his ears.
“Is she the leader of these men?” Baldr asked.
“Yes, and a formidable one. The Romans would love to have one like her as a gladiator, but she is under my protection. For some reason, even Minerva is expressing interest.”
Baldr frowned. Back then, instead of the Roman goddess, he should have sought company with someone else. She’d played him like a pup, and almost skinned him alive when he didn’t heel. Of course, that was a great reason to retreat from such a courtship. Nothing said match made in the Underworld like a sword-wielding woman who liked to play doctor with dissection as part of the foreplay.
“And if you are looking into this woman, I must wonder if that is why Minerva has been more than punching at the borders to get here. It seems like your ex still has feelings for you.”
They turned their attention back to Nanna, and he watched her rally her men, jest even, as she had her servants pass out wine to drink. He knew that smile.
Being here was worth it. Just to see her.
As if on command, a loud boom shook the ground, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
“It’s good to see you, Baldr,” a silky female voice he recognized shouted.
Minerva.
Chapter 10
Baldr
Minerva?
The flames parted and out walked a svelte woman. Her flaxen-colored hair fluttered behind her as she approached, but she didn’t burn. She didn’t cower in their presence, either. Clad in a mixture of a cream-colored tunic and golden armor that refracted the orange and red flames, her red stole fluttered behind her, and her sword was lowered, for now.
Had she been listening in the entire time, according to their plan?
Baldr stared at her and stood stock-still. The humans might explain it as dry lightning, but Minerva loved to make an entrance, even if the humans couldn’t see her, the gods present could.
“Did you miss me?” Minerva cooed and ignored Melqart’s suggestion of a happy reunion.
“Oh, I could cut the tension with a knife. You two do not seem at all happy to be reunited,” Melqart began. “Now, Minerva, you promised to behave yourself, and I promised to let you come here to see what Baldr was so interested in.”
Time stopped.
“You planned for Minerva to be here?” Baldr cursed. “I knew you had a thing for her, but I never thought you’d betray our friendship over it.”
The Roman goddess was widely worshipped. If she was here, the Roman army must also be en-route. They would have escorted her to this land.
And he’d gi
ven her a reason to show up.
“Leave us,” she told Melqart.
“No matter how unhinged you might be, arrogant even, Minerva, this is indeed my realm.” Instead, he waved over a servant holding a bowl of grapes. He leaned back in his throne and watched.
“And I am your honored guest. Surely you do not wish to pick a fight with me when I have Norse fish to fry in this Carthaginian sun?”
Melqart shielded his eyes from the sun, and Baldr also turned to see the approaching fleet of the Roman Navy.
Before he could respond, Minerva pulled out Gleipnir, an unbreakable golden chain, as thin as a silk ribbon. With a whoosh, it cut through the air and cinched closed around his neck. “Now that I have your attention.”
Baldr struggled against it.
Melqart looked on with a content smile and steepled his fingers. “I knew you were coming, and what better way to welcome old friends than by making sure these problems could be mended.”
Baldr looked between them and saw the intense love that Melqart had for Minerva. It was written all over his face, and so much so that he was willing to toss their friendship forever in the fire.
Treachery and betrayal all undone by a pretty face, again. Anger began to rumble in his chest. All this time Melqart had been searching for a way to gain Minerva’s affection, Baldr realized, and in the end, he still couldn’t see that she didn’t care for him.
“You’re making a grave mistake, you two. The alliance between our pantheons will be nullified due to your treachery.” He spat at her feet.
“Shh, dream, dear love, for when you awake things will be different.” She jammed a knife into his side, and his eyes grew heavy.
All of his fight left him.
This wasn’t a friendly meeting, but a trap.
Chapter 11
Baldr
“What are you doing here, Minerva?” Baldr asked. Unable to move, the golden necklace locked him in place. Groggy, he blinked to force the haze of sleep away.
“I just wanted to see what this new one had that I didn’t. It seems that you prefer them…to transform. So strange, you are.”
“And that is why you’ve taken up the fire of the Romans to fight against us?”
“Oh, no, this has nothing to do with her, only you. And every moment of watching you squirm is so refreshing.”
“You are a fool.”
“No, I am Minerva, goddess of war, and I will make you pay for making me play the fool to your fiddle and will make you pay the best way I can. She will be my tool. I will rise to glory and stomp you beneath my feet, and all that I decimate will be your fault. It is a win-win, dear.”
Before he could make a move, her godlike minions moved forward and pulled his arms behind him. “Be careful with this one. We must parade him through the streets, so he may see what he’s caused.”
They pulled him from the temple; he stumbled as he took in the mass of destruction. The streets ran red as fresh rivers of blood trickled. The buildings were painted in gore, while she called forth flocks of ravens to feast upon the newly dead.
“Now, I know you cannot die, but I do know you can suffer.”
“Are you wishing to start a war with me?” Baldr asked through clenched teeth.
Minerva sneered. “I wish nothing more than to flay you, and to wear your beautiful skin, but that would be too nice, even weak of me. No, your woman shall become my pet. She will destroy everything I tell her to.” She turned away. “Men, get the nets. If this shall one day be able to hold Loki in chains, surely it can hold you, too.” She lifted up entrails.
Melqart had loved Minerva forever, Baldr knew, but like all those before her, she’d been attracted to him instead, leaving his sullen friend to lurk in the shadows. Now, he wasn’t sure if Minerva’s presence was her attempt to mend their unrequited love, but this was not how it was done. Love was a garden to be tended, not forced. Yet, Minerva’s determination seemed to blind her from any sort of consequences. She didn’t know what it was like to play these kinds of games with the gods.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Melqart staring on and doing nothing but continuing to scarf down grapes, while wearing a maniacal smile. He was enjoying every little bit that Minerva did to him, every ounce of pain seemed to make his smile grow larger, and on the other end Minerva practically glowed in her joyful abandonment.
And that is why they deserved each other, belonged together. Treachery deserved treachery. What a hard lesson to learn: not everyone who called themselves a friend was indeed one. He’d never forget this, nor forgive them. But they would pay greatly for their betrayal, beyond the price of honor. They’d pay with blood.
Until then, there would be no one to rush to his aid. Thor was surely fighting some giant hoping to climb over the walls, and his father wouldn’t come crashing through the realms to step on Baal Hammon’s toes.
He looked up, and there Minerva stood. She had that self-satisfied look on her oval face. A face he used to love to stare upon.
“Stop,” she ordered the men and sauntered toward him.
“I should have left you before you tossed me away for this thing here,” she accused.
“We weren’t really together.”
“Yes, I liked war and you liked prose and to cower. I should have found comfort in your brother’s arms. At least he would have known how to deflower one such as I.”
Baldr frowned. He’d never touched her. “Am I so bad, Baldr, taming your little toy?” She stroked his arm until his sword lowered. “You were always one in love with love, but you have no depth—a philanderer. Of course, the way you’ve made your way through the goddesses of the pantheons, I should have known. So beautiful to look upon and so very inept.”
“Uh, what have you done?”
“I have sacrificed your son for a greater cause. Did you think I didn’t know that Nanna wasn’t the first mortal who you’ve lusted after, you cheating bastard? Grab the olive tree stakes.” She dragged the tip of her sword behind her as if creating a sigil. “Aren’t you sad that you didn’t reveal all of your secrets? Your lies. They have come home to roost.”
“You are insane.”
“Welcome to the darkness.” She palmed some of the dust and tossed it into the slight breeze.
“You’re taking my handsome face as a sign that I won’t fight back,” Baldr said.
“It is so good to see you two clear the air,” Melqart interjected. “Bickering is such a weakness.”
“You fools,” Baldr snapped. “All you’ve done is broken the alliances between the pantheons and caused war to fall upon our heads. But if harm has truly fallen upon my son, you will pay the ultimate price.”
“You’ve always been weak, Baldr,” Minerva snapped. “Why should this change?”
Again, her minions grabbed him and pulled him back to the wooden stake. He didn’t flinch as they tied him down to the wood, or even when they drove the spikes through his hands, not even when the chain made of his son’s entrails wrapped around him. The bright light inside of him began to dim.
“You have made the worst of mistakes, Minerva.”
“I don’t make mistakes, Baldr. I’m the goddess of wisdom.” She reached back and stabbed him in the side with her blade. “May this hurt. I rubbed it down in bog myrtle, just for you.” She leaned forward and pulled his bottom lip between her teeth until he bled.
“Yum, even gods bleed.” She turned away. “Come, men. We have the rest of this despicable place to destroy. And from what I hear, the sacrificing has already begun as they pray for the gods to help thwart what it is we want.”
He heard the building screams of men, women, and children as the invasion began. He could do nothing.
It didn’t take long for the birds to come and try to peck and feast on Baldr. Minerva had a way of always wanting to be the one having the last word, and besides her being a little deranged, well, this was very clearly insanity. She must have been keeping tabs on what he was doing, and Melqart was more than will
ing to agree to have some fun at his expense, leaving his people to suffer at Minerva and the Romans’ hands.
If she’d attack her sisters for laughing at her, he should have known better than to disregard her maidenly attention.
And the last thing the All-Father would want to hear was that he’d started a war with the Roman pantheon, too.
A hurricane began to build within him as two ravens, and unsummoned Valkyrie descended, then stood next to him.
“The All-Father has sent us to assist you,” the ravens, Hugin and Munin, cawed. Hugin pointed his black wings, while Munin scrutinized the bindings.
“Did you know the poor fellow whose intestines were used to bind you?” Kara the Valkyrie asked, and pulled the knife out of Baldr’s side. “Sorry for the pain, my lord, but the longer that stays in you, the more the poison will make you sick.”
Baldr gritted his teeth and breathed through the pain. “What brings you here?”
“They were on their way back to Asgard with news, when Hugin spotted you.” Both stretched their black wings and bobbed their heads in affirmation.
Kara cut the bloody entrails away, and they fell to the ground.
“I have been betrayed,” Baldr said.
“That is evident unless this is some of the kinky game you’ve played with your goddesses for a while, and I need not know. I mean, debauchery aside, you do have a reputation for breaking hearts.” Kara turned away and cleared her throat. “We are outside of our territory and should be returning.”
“I will not do so until I have taken what I desire.”
“Women are not things, and this woman is not one you can just take.” Hugin flapped his wings and rose to rest on top of the stake.
“But for you to get out of this mess, you must remember who you are, even if it is just for this day. You are pure light encased in skin. Light is more powerful than anything,” Munin said and rose as if to call more ravens from the battlefield where their dinner would soon await. “Fire can destroy everything,” Munin continued.
A Dragon's Rising (The Dragon Series: Origins Book 1) Page 5
