CHAPTER 3
King Frederick Finds a Weapon
Phillius led the way down the stairs into the vaults that lay deep underneath Trondheim castle. With him walked King Frederick, King Cormac, Princess Margret, Druid Nas, the Aarlund brothers and their nephew Conall. Every person carried a torch that loudly sputtered.
With each step, the air got colder. When they reached the vault, everyone had pulled their cloaks and furs tightly around them for warmth.
When Frederick spoke, a faint mist could be seen with each uttered word. Said: “What you see before you is stolen treasure from Turkistan, Opistan, Salgaria, and Lanksha.”
“And Aarlund,” said Nas.
Frederick nodded, said: “And of course, Aarlund.”
Nas continued, said: “That is how I knew the Almuric Sword and Freya’s circlet were here, in this vault. And that is why I made those magical items part of the negotiations between Aarlund and Dennland.”
Frederick said: “And we will have to see if there are any items of magic stored in Aarlund that belong to Dennland.”
Cormac nodded his head. “A good idea, Frederick,” he said. “We will visit the storerooms in Aarlund where we house our stolen loot and we will return all Dennland treasure. This is not the time for war trophies. This is a time of peace between our two great lands and returning each other’s treasure should help ensure that peace.”
“Now, Princess Margret, if you would be so kind, do you see any items of magic?” asked Frederick.
Margret breathed deeply, closed her eyes in concentration, then opened them. Said: “The Almuric Sword glows brightly with magic, as does the Master of the Hunt’s horn.” She turned her head slowly looking over all the treasures that were piled on the ground and on shelves. “There is something, underneath the pile of spears in the corner.”
Eithlenn walked over and began pulling spears out of the mess. “This one?” he asked holding a spear, but Margret shook her head. “This one?” he asked, holding a different spear, but she shook her head again.
With a smile, Margret said: “Let me help.” She walked over and began pulling spears out of the mess, handing the rejected spears to Eithlenn.
“Here,” she said and she grabbed one and handed it to Frederick.
Frederick gazed at it but looked disappointed. Said: “This spear does not appear to have any value, princess. It is of a good weight and the spear tip appears to be in good shape, perhaps requires some sharpening. I realize it must be glowing to your eyes, but to mine, it appears dusty and unused.”
“May I?” she asked and laid a hand on the spear. Under her breath, she spoke words of enchantment and as the pearl in her circlet glowed, the spear suddenly revealed decorative runes along the shaft of the spear.
Nas’s jaw dropped, then said: “That cannot be. Gunghir, Odin’s spear?”
“Sadly, no, Nas,” said Margret shaking her head. “This is sister-spear to Gunghir, it is not Odin’s spear.”
Frederick gave the spear a more appreciative appraisal. “Not Odin’s spear, but a sister-spear to it. What was it doing, however, down here in the vaults of Dennland?”
“A mystery we may never know, Your Majesty,” said Margret. “A mighty spear nonetheless and a weapon of magic for battle.”
Frederick sighed appreciatively, then said: “Good, now I have a true weapon of magic I may wield during fights. It is one thing to own the horn of the Master of the Hunt. But that is a weapon I am loath to use. This spear though is something I could use in every battle.”
Nas said: “Odin’s spear is still missing but we may be able to find it with its sister-spear.”
Conall raised his voice, tentatively asked: “Without Odin’s help, will we lose against the elves?”
His uncle Airthear gave his nephew an affectionate grip on the shoulder. “Not at all, Conall,” he said. “Those blacksmiths, a priest, and your princess fought the Draugr, a most powerful elf-minion, and they won. And we just battled two of the fiercest frost giant brothers. As we gather more enchanted weapons, we become stronger. And if we do lose in a battle against the elves, death will sup mightily on both sides.”
Conall’s chest swelled with confidence as he said: “And if we destroy the Heart Tree, we will not have to battle the elves at all.”
And Airthear and everyone else laughed, as Airthear said: “Exactly, nephew, that is the plan.”
***
“You will be safe on this journey,” said Queen Astrid not as a question, but as a statement.
King Frederick smiled at his wife. Said: “My Lady Astrid, I will be as safe as I can, considering we just fought off two frost giants out by Freya’s statue earlier today.”
Astrid shook her head, making her dark long hair flow. Said: “I will not lose you before our child is born. Why can you not send another? There are many fine knights who would gladly serve. Perhaps one of the knights who won one of the events in the recent King’s Tournament?”
But as soon as she said those words, she knew his answer, as he said: “I am king of Dennland. By my leadership do I guide this great country. I could not have another in my stead. I must see this Heart Tree destroyed, else I will not sleep.”
He gazed at his wife and gently held her hands. He softened his voice as he said: “I will return. I will keep this land safe, safe for our child.” He gently touched Astrid’s stomach where the pregnancy could now plainly be seen.
“I think I felt a kick.” He laughed as he pulled his hand away.
“A real fighter this one,” said Astrid. “I think I am bruised along my ribs.” She kissed her husband sharply. “I do not plan on ruling Dennland without you.”
Frederick scoffed, said: “Believe me, if we do not destroy this Heart Tree, there may not be any country to rule.”
CHAPTER 4
A Trip North to the Heart Tree
“Who is not coming on this trip?” asked Grum. “Looks like plenty of hungry mouths if you ask me.”
“You mean beside yours,” said Arastead. “Pressan for one, he is not coming.”
“He does not eat much anyways,” said Grum.
“So pretty much the usual troublemakers are coming with us,” said Arastead.
“Which means…” started Grum.
“The Aarlund brothers,” said Farling.
“Though I still cannot tell them apart,” said Grum.
“Good thing you can still recognize their nephew, Conall.”
“Yes, a good thing.”
“The two kings, Frederick and Cormac.”
“Of course,” said Arastead. “And Cormac’s daughter, Princess Margret.”
“And do not forget Nas,” said Grum. “Though we lose Sihr as he is staying here. He must attend to the needs of the Paupers Temple.”
Farling shook his head, said: “A pity he is not coming with us as he surprised me in the fight against the Draugr. He has strong mettle.”
“Einar is coming,” said Grum watching as the thieves guild master swing himself into his saddle. Then Grum sighed as he said: “Must all of Einar’s things be so fancy?”
“He does appreciate the finer things in life,” agreed Arastead. “Now, who else?”
“Jagjord accompanies us,” said Arastead.
“And his large horse,” said Grum.
“Jakobus is not coming,” said Farling.
“He spoke with me briefly,” said Arastead. “He will study the Book of Princore while I am gone and will teach me what he learns upon my return.”
“No Phillius?” asked Farling.
“He needs to stay behind and run Dennland in Frederick’s stead,” said Arastead.
“Just as well,” said Farling, “as he does not really strike me as the fighting type.”
“No knights of Dennland?” asked Grum.
“I think we are those knights,” said Farling making Grum and Arastead smile.
“Frederick knows magic must be used against magic,” said Arastead, “and if we bring along any kn
ights, they may just become so much fodder.”
“What of the Aarlund brothers?” asked Grum. “They do not have any weapons of magic.”
“That is their choice,” said Arastead. “Besides, I think just their mere presence makes Princess Margret feel safer.”
“And do not forget Peg, your cat,” said Grum.
Arastead petted Peg’s head causing her to purr. He had attached a small basket to the back of his saddle, which Peg sat in comfortably.
“Another who surprised me in the fight against the Draugr,” said Farling as he reached over and petted Peg’s head. “You are a brave cat, yes you are.”
Arastead and Grum exchanged looks of mock concern.
“Very brave for a wizard’s familiar, you mean,” said Arastead.
Farling nodded, said: “Yes, and as we discovered in the fight with the Draugr, you must keep her safe, else you will get injured through her.”
“We learned a great deal in that fight,” said Arastead. “She will stay somewhere safe during any fights.”
“Good,” said Farling. “She is helping you become acquainted with your abilities of magic, but she is also your weakness.”
“I said she will be safe,” said Arastead his voice raised, “there is no need for you to repeat yourself.”
Farling grinned and said: “Good. I am just making sure that my Trondheim friends stay safe.”
“And what about your Aarlund friend?” asked Conall joining the conversation.
“Of course we want our Aarlund friend safe,” said Grum shaking Conall’s hand. “Else who will take me to all the best eateries in Aarlund?”
“Let us depart!” cried Frederick ending all conversation.
And with that, everyone nudged their horses towards the Heart Tree.
CHAPTER 5
The Gateway to the Realm of the Frost Giants
Lanson wiped the sweat from his forehead. He stood back from his anvil and as he looked around his forge, a small smile appeared; then was replaced by his usual frown. While he enjoyed working in a forge, he had forgotten for a moment that he now worked for Alchemist.
It felt like it had been years since he had been kidnapped from his forge in the Hive in Trondheim. He had known trouble was afoot ever since that strange man had appeared and asked pointed questions about the Book of Princore. How had that stranger known? That night, Lanson hid the book and the enchanted war hammer and shield safely in his wall behind a charm of concealment. Now, no one would be able to detect those items unless they knew exactly where to tear apart the wall. And a good thing, as soon after he had been knocked unconscious and brought to Alchemist’s stronghold. At first, he had been treated well at the stronghold; an unending supply of high-quality charcoal, the finest anvil and hammer and tools. But there was no secret he was a prisoner. And then came the questions, first from Old Monk. What did Lanson know of the Book of Princore? How to make items of magic? What did he know about creating a golem?
Lanson had refused to answer all questions. But then the torture began and after weeks upon weeks of starvation, sleep deprivation, whips, and strained joints from the rack, Lanson broke.
Healed scars crisscrossed his back, but it was the scars in his mind that had not healed. He had betrayed Dennland, betrayed his king. Still, Alchemist had not been able to extract all of Lanson’s secrets. And with that single happy thought in mind, Lanson hammered at the metal on his anvil, a rare smile on his face.
The flap to his tent pulled aside and one of Alchemist’s young druids entered.
Lanson grunted: “Pull the flap back down else the chill air will ruin the metal I am working on.”
“I care not about your work,” the young druid said rudely.
“You might, if you knew I was making something for Alchemist.”
“You are not.”
Lanson sighed and said: “Everything I work on is for Alchemist. And this one is specifically for him as he asked for it.”
“Fine.” The druid pulled the tent flap down and secured it.
In a calm voice Lanson asked: “Now, what would your master have of me?”
And in his rude tone, the druid said: “The frost giant brothers have been spotted and will be arriving soon. Master would have you by his side.”
“Tell him I am pleased with his invitation and am honored. I will be there as soon as I can as I must properly shut down this forge.”
The druid merely grunted and left, leaving the tent flap open on purpose.
Lanson, with muted expression, walked over and stood at his tent’s opening. Looking out at the encampment, he shielded his eyes as the sun’s rays reflected off the white snow. They had left Alchemist’s stronghold months prior and had set up camp high in the mountains. Then Alchemist, Old Monk, many of the strongest druids, and several sheep, had departed and had made their way up a treacherous trail that wound its way even higher in the mountain range. Lanson had no idea what had transpired up in the mountains but he had heard whispers about the frost giants. Had Alchemist grown so powerful as to free the frost giants from their slumber? Indeed he had as now the frost giants seemed to obey Alchemist and two of Thrymr’s sons were now returning from a mission in the south. Alchemist had been able to create a potion so strong that it controlled the weather. Shaking his head in disbelief, Lanson closed the tent flap and shut down his forge.
Putting on a warm coat, hat, and gloves, Lanson made his way outside. All the walking in the snow by the druids had created wide pathways so now it was not necessary to walk using snowshoes. Today there was little breeze which was a relief. Still, the cold bit through all his heavy furs making him wish for the warmth of his forge.
None of the druids that walked by Lanson paid him the slightest bit of attention; it was if he was invisible. Or, rather only visible when they needed his skills. And now was such a moment.
“Lanson,” called Old Monk, “so nice of you to join us.” Beside Old Monk stood Alchemist whose back was turned to Lanson. Lanson followed Alchemist’s gaze and his mouth opened.
“I see we can still surprise you,” said Old Monk reading the expression on Lanson’s face.
Over Alchemist’s shoulder, Lanson could see a section of the mountain wall that the druids had cleared. He had heard them working feverishly away at cleaning it with shovels and brooms. But he had had no idea what they were cleaning. He had merely assumed they were clearing a spot till the bare rock was exposed. He had not realized that there was something underneath all the snow.
“A gateway,” whispered Lanson.
Old Monk nodded, said: “Not just any gateway, blacksmith. Tell me, can you decipher any of the runes and markings on this gateway?”
Lanson covered his eyes to get a better look. Under his breath, he murmured the runes he recognized, then stopped, his head snapping to glare at Old Monk.
“Jotunheim,” whispered Lanson.
Old Monk nodded, pleased, and said: “I see you have not lost your touch, blacksmith. Yes, Jotunheim. We freed the frost giants but they were held in Midgard. Now, they return to their realm, Jotunheim.”
“Part of the bargain I suspect,” began Lanson. “You free the frost giants from their slumber, they do some dirty work for you down south, and you now allow them to return to their realm.”
Old Monk shrugged, said: “We are just being generous.”
Lanson said: “Not to mention that once in Jotunheim, the frost giants will find all their old weapons and return to this world. Still, there is a slight flaw. You have no way of opening this gateway.”
Alchemist interrupted, and while keeping his back turned, he said: “That is where you are wrong, blacksmith. The frost giants were given a blade that could cut a god.”
Lanson frowned, said: “But there are no Norse gods in Midgard.”
“But there are, or should I say there is: Freya has returned. Oh, you have not heard. You really must get out more. There is so much gossip you have missed since you joined our humble group. After much search
ing, I was able to locate Aesirslayer, the only blade that may cut and kill a god. But I was not really interested in killing Freya, I just needed some of her blood. As you know, the blood of a Norse god is most powerful alchemy.”
Lanson looked worried, asked: “What potion would you make with Freya’s blood?”
“No potion, yet,” replied Alchemist. “But I will use her blood to open this gateway between Midgard and Jotunheim. Only Freya’s blood will overcome Odin’s spell locking this gateway.”
Lanson scoffed, said: “That is an awful lot of work to open the gateway between Jotunheim and Midgard. What are you not telling me?”
“Perceptive as always, blacksmith. The Alfheim Gateway looks to be compromised. But it served its purpose. While King Cormac and King Frederick attempt to destroy the Heart Tree and thus seal the Alfheim Gateway, I found this one, an ancient and forgotten Jotunheim Gateway to the realm of the frost giants.”
“But there are no elves in Jotunheim,” said Lanson.
“Not yet,” stated Alchemist. “Because if the Heart Tree is destroyed, the elves will first cross into Jotunheim, then into Midgard.”
And a shiver went down Lanson’s spine that had nothing to do with the ice and snow.
CHAPTER 6
The Search for a Portal Rune
For the past several hours, Stepon, Brascan, and Slofar had searched for a portal in all the corridors and rooms of the Trondheim thieves. Einar, Jagjord, and Pressan had given them many ideas about where a portal might be in the guild. But the young thieves had not found one.
Stepon said: “Hurry, we still have many corridors and rooms to check.”
Brascan and Slofar glared at Stepon, but he just defiantly glared back and said: “Come on, you can do much better than that. If you really want to glare at me, you really need to put your heart into it.”
Brascan, his voice trembling with anger, said: “I am sick and tired of you ordering us around.”
The Prophecy of Asgard Page 3
