Nas continued: “In addition to King Cormac, Grum has his gloves and belt of strength. Combined with his war hammer, Grum may be able to knock the Heart Tree over in one blow. We still do not know the full capabilities of Grum’s strength and that war hammer. Farling’s blade, while sharp, is only most effective against the frost giants.”
“And King Frederick brings sister-weapon to Gunghir, Odin’s spear. Made from the wood of an ancient Heart Tree, it may help us more than we realize as often something of equal make is needed to destroy something of equal make.”
Grum said: “One Heart Tree against another, I understand.”
“Do you?” said Arastead.
“Do not mock me,” Grum grinned. “I might be of use in the destruction of this hated Heart Tree. I am enjoying myself.”
“Oh good,” said Arastead. “I was worried about you. It did not look like you were having fun.”
Nas leveled his gaze on Arastead and Grum who both looked down at the ground sheepishly and went quiet.
“As I was saying,” began Nas, “we have more enchanted weapons to not only destroy the Heart Tree, but to also battle this unknown guardian that protects it.”
“Druid, you worry too much,” said Airthear. “Not only do our kings wield great weapons of enchantment, but our young Dennlanders do too. Which is just as well, because they will need all the help they can get. Even the skinny tall one, Arastead, has his cat. And my brothers and I have our brawn and fighting abilities. I am sure we brought too many people on this expedition. My brothers and I should have gone on to Alchemist’s stronghold. We should check in on the warriors who investigated that compound, see what they found, see if they discovered any weaknesses in Alchemist’s armor. We will destroy the Heart Tree in no time. The next great battle will be with Alchemist. What is it Nas, you look distracted?”
Nas had stopped moving, except for his eyes as they darted back and forth as he stared up at the brightening sky.
“Nas, you are beginning to worry me,” said Cormac. “What is going on?”
Nas shook his head. “Your daughter, Margret,” he said.
“What of her?” asked Cormac, his voice concerned.
“She is fine, but she spoke to me using Freya’s circlet. Those were-beasts escaped and she suspects they chase us.”
Melgund scoffed and said: “But they must have been caught and held for a while.”
“Ah, it is difficult to communicate like this with Princess Margret,” said Nas. “It is mostly images, but they jumble and tumble into one another. I see the were-beasts imprisoned, then I see them striding about the thieves guild confidently.”
“My guild.” Concern darkened Melgund’s face. “I must return to my guild and see if anyone needs help.”
“You cannot leave,” said Nas, “for you will surely meet those were-beasts on the same road. And they will slay you where you stand. Your best chance of success is to help us destroy the Heart Tree. Then, if need be, we will fight and destroy those were-beasts. We will help you.”
“And we will help you regain your guild if need be,” said Einar. “Our guilds must stay strong and stay together. Especially now that we have discovered portals that link our guilds.”
Melgund nodded reluctantly.
“Now, those were-beasts surely have our scent,” said Frederick. “We saw how adept they are at following our trail. We are close to the Heart Tree. We must attack and destroy it now before those were-beasts catch up to us and force a fight.”
CHAPTER 16
The Search for Yggdrasil
Jakobus asked: “Sihr, have you had any luck?”
It had been a day since Jakobus and Sihr had spoken about trying to find Yggdrasil where stories said the Norns lived and the Midgard Serpent gnawed the tree’s roots. Jakobus had told Sihr that the Midgard Serpent and Yggdrasil were the source of magic and that Sihr should use the gift from Freya to find Yggdrasil.
Sihr nodded and said: “During the quiet times yesterday, when the Paupers Temple was not busy, I would find a place where I could be alone and, using Freya’s staff as you suggested, I tried to see if I could find a direction to where Yggdrasil grows. As you said, like looking for a source of water for a farmer to let him know where to dig his well. If the tree is the source of magic as you suggested.”
“The tree holds all the realms together, and as all the realms have magic, it is because the tree crosses and lives in all realms.”
“Then the Midgard Serpent lives as well in all the realms.”
“Indeed, young Sihr. So, did you find a direction for us?”
“Unfortunately, I did not. There was no direction, not north, south, east or west.”
Jakobus rubbed his chin in thought. “Did you sense the source of magic?” he asked.
“I did, but I could not tell you which way to go. It was as if I was in the middle of it. I do not know how else to describe it. I did not know which way to turn as there was no way to turn. Does that make sense?”
“Perhaps. When you have used your healing cleric abilities before, did you sense where the magic was coming from?”
“Sometimes it feels as if it comes up through my feet. Other times, it is as if I need to lean into it, I need to reach out more for it as if with my fingers. Does that make sense?”
“Of course. Does it ever feel stronger? That is, does it ever feel as if you do not need to reach out to the source of magic as hard as other times, because sometimes it is easier to find?”
“Come to think of it, I have used my powers of healing in many areas around Trondheim. And it has always been easy to reach out to the source of magic, to allow it to flow through me and heal others. But the one time I was out at Freya’s statue, I could sense that I was further from the source. It was still easy to reach out to it, but it felt like I had to stretch to reach it. Of course, once the connection was made, it was as strong as always.”
“Fascinating. Do you know why the Paupers Temple was built here, in this location?”
“I have no records as to the reason. Only one unusual thing that the Master of the Hunt said after we had cleansed Astrid of the Draugr’s darkness; that the reason he knew of the tunnel that led from the Paupers Temple basement out to Freya’s temple is that he built it.”
Jakobus tapped his lower lip in thought. “That is interesting news,” he said. “Now, I have heard the stories of the relationship between the Master of the Hunt and Freya, which may in some ways explain the tunnel. But not why it leads from the basement of this temple. Why did you cure Queen Astrid here?”
“This is where the Master of the Hunt brought her?”
“But why here? Why not the castle? Why not cure her out at Freya’s temple?”
Sihr shrugged. “I have no idea as to why he brought her here. It just seemed most convenient for everyone.”
“He brought her here for a reason, I bet my best hammer on it. Why though, why?” Jakobus tapped his forehead as if to push an answer into it. “Ah, perhaps I know. Who else helped you?”
“Princess Margret of Aarlund.”
“Was it easy to access the source of magic?”
“It was.”
“And did it in any way feel more powerful?”
“It felt powerful because it was so easy to access.”
“I think I may know why the Paupers Temple was built here and why, when you tried to find the source of magic, Yggdrasil, that you could not find a direction. It is because you stood right in the middle of the tree.”
“Come again? I do not understand. I cannot see any tree, I see no branches, no leaves.”
“The tree is below the Paupers Temple. It grows underneath it.”
“But that is not possible. Trees need the sun to grow.”
“Yggdrasil is not like a regular tree. I think, young priest, we may have found where the tree grows.”
“Fine, if you say it is under this temple, then how do we reach it? I know of no stairs.”
“Did you know of th
e tunnel that leads from the basement out to Freya’s temple before?”
Sihr grinned. “No,” he said. “And that may mean there are other tunnels in the basement of the Paupers Temple for us to discover.”
“Good. Now, pack some food, we may be gone awhile.”
CHAPTER 17
Margret Speaks to Nas
“Princess, did you reach Nas?” yelled Pressan.
“I did,” answered Margret in an equally loud voice.
The sound of horses hooves thundered on the road as Pitcairn receded in the background.
“It is not easy talking to Nas while riding a horse,” reminded Margret.
Jagjord grinned. “I did suggest we stop the horses and have a rest,” he said.
Margret grinned back. “I am disappointed, Jagjord. You thought I could not talk to Nas over a great distance while also riding a horse?”
Jagjord chuckled but no one could hear.
Stepon, holding on to his horse for dear life, asked: “Are you sure this horse is the right size for me? It feels wrong.”
“You will be fine, young thief,” said Margret. “You look fine. Although you may be sore afterwards.”
“Oh, I am sore already, Your Highness.
Slofar too looked pained, riding his horse. “Princess, are you sure we are headed in the right direction?” he asked.
Margret nodded. “I could sense where Nas was, I know which direction we should go.”
“Do you think those were-beasts are close to the Heart Tree?” asked Slofar.
“Yes, I fear so,” said Margret. “Now, hold on to your horses as we need to catch up. And stop complaining about your sore bottoms!”
CHAPTER 18
The Search for Yggdrasil Continues
Rickters lit all the torches in the basement of the Paupers Temple. Even though it was still early morning, no outside light penetrated the lower floors of the temple, so rags soaked in oil tied around sticks burned and were the only source of light. Rickters, Jakobus, and Sihr each carried a burning torch as well.
Jakobus asked: “When was the floor last cleaned?”
“A while ago,” said Sihr. “We do not clean often down here. We do not entertain guests often in the basement. Still, it has been busier than before down here.”
“Show me the tunnel that leads out to Freya’s temple,” said Jakobus.
And while Jakobus was looking for the hidden tunnel, Rickters whispered to Sihr: “Do you think this wise? My father always said to never trust a dwarf.”
Sihr arched an eyebrow and whispered: “He had never met a dwarf, so I am not too sure what he was basing his opinion on.”
“Stories, just stories, that is all, but usually those are good enough.”
“I think we can trust Jakobus well enough.”
“Fine, my young master. Just make sure to never turn your back, that is all I want to say.”
Sihr laid a comforting hand on Rickters’s shoulder. “I will be fine. Freya will protect me.”
Sihr raised his voice. “I remember where the latch is that opens the door,” he said. And, in a few moments, Sihr reached and pulled on the torch bracket. Directly in front of them, a section of the wall pulled in and moved over to one side.
“Fascinating,” admired Jakobus. “After all these years, it still works.”
“I have had Rickters oil the grooves since it was discovered, so it actually does open faster and a touch more quietly. I had a scare at the other door at the far end of this tunnel, so I now prefer my hidden doors to open and close quickly.”
“What type of a scare?” asked Jakobus.
“It was early in our discovery of Freya, and when I found her ancient and destroyed temple, with her sitting at one end, I also discovered the Master of the Hunt and his hounds. I fled, and luckily was able to close the door behind me in time, else the hounds would have torn me to shreds.”
“That is quite the scare, although I doubt his hounds would have hurt you,” said Jakobus. “Scared you, but not hurt you.” Sihr merely nodded in agreement, now that he better knew the Master of the Hunt.
Jakobus thrust his torch into the tunnel and walked in several steps. He touched the walls appreciatively. “I believe dwarves may have had a hand in making these walls.”
“That would explain how they have held up all these years,” replied Sihr.
“Yes, dwarf craftsmanship is beyond compare. Still, no stories of making this tunnel were ever passed down to me through my father and my father’s father and his father before him.”
“Did dwarves help in the making of the Paupers Temple?”
“No, Sihr, else I would have noticed. Dwarves are not fond of making buildings above ground. We can do it, of course, and have from time to time over the ages, but no, I do not see any tell-tale marks of dwarf craftsmanship on the pillars and walls of your temple. As well, we do not make stained glass windows.”
“A shame, as I reckon you would make beautiful windows of colored glass.”
Jakobus merely grinned under his moustache at the compliment. “Now, I do not see that there are any tunnels that lead down from this one,” he said. “So, if there is a way down to Yggdrasil, there must be another way.” Jakobus took out a small rock hammer and began tapping on the walls, listening all the while for anything that indicated a false wall with a tunnel behind it.
After many minutes, Jakobus grunted in frustration. “Nothing. I cannot tell if there is any other secret door.”
“You said that the source of my magical abilities is under the Paupers Temple,” said Sihr.
“Yes.”
“Could there be a secret trap door that leads to a tunnel underneath?”
“Perhaps.” Jakobus bent over and tapped all over the floor of the basement. After many minutes, he stood up straight and put a hand to his lower back. “I discovered nothing. Except that I am not getting any younger.”
“There must be something,” said Sihr.
Rickters interjected: “But would they need a door?” he asked.
“How do you mean?” asked Sihr, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“If,” began Rickters, “and this is a big if, if Yggdrasil somehow is under our feet, why would there be a door? I mean, I have never seen anyone come up through the floor before. And who would use this door? The Norns? The great serpent that gnaws the tree’s roots?”
Sihr leaned on his staff and said: “All good questions, Rickters. Ones I had not thought of before. I assumed as there was a hidden door out to Freya’s ancient temple, that if indeed Yggdrasil was somehow underneath us, there would be a way to reach it.”
“You can sense no door?” asked Jakobus.
“No, that is not how my magic works. I fear, Jakobus, this may have been misguided. It may be as Rickters says; the tree may be underneath us, but there is no door as no one needs to access it. I do not believe the Norns need stairs.”
Jakobus looked defeated. Said: “I believe I may have gotten my hopes up. Still, tomorrow is another day. Let us mull this over, see if any other ideas come to mind. In the meantime, I have a stable to look after.”
CHAPTER 19
The Jotunheim Gateway Opens
Yorli, princess of the frost giants, daughter of Thrymr, watched as Alchemist opened the Jotunheim Gateway.
Blood was needed to open a Norse gateway and the Jotunheim Gateway required the blood of a god as ages before, the gateway had been sealed shut by Odin, the All Father of the Norse gods. And it was Freya’s blood on Aesirslayer, the only blade able to cut and injure a god. And although her brothers had not killed Freya, the wound might in time. The only cure Yorli knew to heal a Norse god was a golden apple. And she knew those only grew on Yggdrasil, a long-held secret.
Yorli watched as Alchemist made a big flourish of opening the gateway. She was impressed in many ways by his abilities. It was Alchemist after all who had freed her, her father, her brothers, from their imprisonment, put there by Odin. But with freedom came a debt owed Al
chemist for their release. For there was always a price to be paid for such an act of rare kindness.
And Alchemist had been quick to exact his price. He had aligned himself years ago with the elves, who had been banished to their realm of Alfheim, and it was this alignment that guided all his decisions. For the elves banishment had caused them to resent the gods and mankind. And it was this resentment that drove their deep desire to return to Midgard and kill or enslave all the people. Alchemist was one of many people beholden to the elves who worked for them in Midgard. For the elves needed friends, friends who would do their bidding.
But the frost giants were not friends with the elves. While they were indebted to Alchemist, they resented his arrogance. Thrymr, her father, and king of the frost giants had ground his teeth so hard in anger that blood seeped from his gums when he had watched Alchemist chastise and publicly humiliate two of her brothers. Had it not been enough her brothers had returned with the blood of a Norse god on Aesirslayer? Her brothers amazingly held their tempers and did not strike Alchemist then and there.
Then the Jotunheim Gateway opened and even from where she stood, far at the back of the crowd, she looked into Jotunheim.
She caught her breath at the beauty of her realm. Even though it was snow and ice on this side of the gateway, the snow and ice she could see in Jotunheim was purer, whiter, colder, more beautiful, more inspiring. She could see that the snow in Jotunheim would nourish her, strengthen her. She missed her realm deeply and wanted to run through the crowd to be the first to return, to be the first to have the snow caress her skin and breath the Jotunheim air deep into her lungs.
And as Alchemist triumphantly faced the crowd of smiling initiates and stone-faced frost giants, he sheathed Aesirslayer.
In a booming voice, Alchemist said: “Today is a new day. Today will see the fall of the last Norse gods and usher in a new—”
Without warning, the frost giants attacked Alchemist’s initiates. The initiates had not armed themselves, thinking the opening of the gateway was a time of celebration. And so, the giants’ weapons crushed skulls, broke bones, and severed limbs. The few initiates who ran into tents to fetch weapons were either struck from behind and killed or fended themselves so poorly that they offered little to no resistance and were struck down.
The Prophecy of Asgard Page 10
