“Your first lesson, Farling: Do not get portals and gateways confused. Gateways are between realms, portals are within a realm. But yes, my abilities are special. My portals can move between realms, but cannot be large, for that requires too much magic that even I cannot perform.”
“But you could transport us back to our realm then!” cried Grum. “We are not large.”
Arastead arched an eyebrow. “I will let that one slide, my friend. Obviously, Mage is powerful enough to transport us back to our realm. He does not, however, wish to do that as we have too many uses to him. He may use us as bargaining chips with the elves or with the frost giants. Notice he has not told the elves yet of our existence in this realm, and we are even here far away from prying eyes.”
Silently, everyone agreed with Grum.
Then Farling asked: “So why train us, Mage? If we are to be bargaining chips, slaves to be sold to the highest bidder, whoever you wish to earn favor with most, why help us?”
Mage’s smile gave no hint as to what he thought as he said: “It is a big world out there, Farling. There are many players at work, many realms in play. The elves obviously wish to destroy Midgard for revenge against perceived wrongs against them committed by Odin, the All Father. The frost giants too have a bitter feud with the gods and the people of Midgard. Too long have they been banished from Jotunheim, but they have now returned. They will wake the frost giants, wake the clans. They will grow strong and they will try to have their revenge as well. And the dwarves, they wish to fire up their forges, they wish to mine in the ground for precious metals and jewels. They want to once again beat hammers on anvils, make the finest jewelry, imbued with dwarf runes of magic. They too feel they have been wronged by the Norse gods, and while they may not seek revenge, they may meddle in the ways of Midgard and it will not bode well.”
Margret asked: “What of the fire giants, those who live in Musspelheim, ruled by Surtur?”
“The fire giants still sleep,” answered Mage.
“And the Norse gods do not walk among us anymore,” said Arastead. “We will have to fight these fights on our own. We may have weapons of magic, but that is all the Norse gods may do.”
Margret looked pensive, then said: “While we have been talking, I felt a presence. Mage made me remove my circlet, and now that I wear it again, my senses are more acute, colors are more vibrant, the air tastes sweeter. I wear Freya’s circlet, and she is still bound to it in many ways. I think she has just been saved.” Margret’s eyes glistened with tears of happiness.
“That is good news, princess” said Arastead.
Farling said: “Arastead is right, that is good news, especially with what Mage just told us of the other realms and their people. We need as many of the Norse gods returned as possible. But how was Freya saved?”
“It must have been a golden apple,” said Margret. “That is the only thing that would have stopped the poison from the Aesirslayer blade, the only way to bring her back to health and end her curse.”
“Sihr must have found a golden apple,” said Arastead. “He is the only one that must have figured out the riddle of where the tree grew that bears the golden apple fruit.”
“Can you reach out to Sihr?” asked Farling. “Let him know we are safe, even though we are in Alfheim?”
Margret shook her head. “I can feel Freya’s presence, but not Sihr, nor Nas,” she said.
“Freya’s presence crosses all realms,” said Mage. “But not those of your friends.”
“Still, Freya must know you are in Alfheim,” said Farling.
“As must my father,” whispered Margret, a worried look crossing her face.
“Well, if Freya is not bound by her curse any longer, what of Loki?” asked Farling. “He is the only other old god I know still alive, even if under a curse.”
Arastead said: “Freya must know where her brother is, but I do not know if she knows how to save him.”
“She must know,” said Farling. “Or else we are in real trouble if the elves find another way into our realm, or if the frost giants attack. Freya can only do so much.”
“You think Loki would help us?” asked Grum. “He is the god of mischief, he is trouble, and he only looks out for himself.”
“He loved Yorli, princess of the frost giants at one time,” said Farling. “He may still love her. Perhaps that might help.”
“If her brothers have forgiven him,” said Grum, “which I doubt. Or her father, Thrymr.”
“Still, it might be a chance to at least not have the frost giants attack our realm,” said Farling.
“Perhaps,” said Margret. “Love does do peculiar things. Or so I have been told.” She stole a glance at Mage, looking at his face, but he gave nothing away.
“Then we wait,” said Farling. “And while we wait, we train. But, Mage, your answer was not satisfactory. Why train us if you will simply trade us like bags of wool at some point?”
Mage looked wistful as he said: “I trained ogres all the time. I do miss it. And I will need to start training another soon, so I must knock the rust off and polish my teaching skills.”
“You mentioned this other person before,” said Farling. “Who is this person? An ogre?”
“I may as well tell you before we begin training. Have you ever heard of the Sorceress?”
Everyone shook their heads.
Mage continued: “It is an old name, long forgotten, buried beneath the erosion of time. A Sorceress is a master witch of the highest skill, a witch of unparalleled abilities, a necromancer of unrivalled knowledge. Her power is practically without limits.”
“So where does the Sorceress draw her power from?” asked Arastead.
“The right question,” said Mage, “and I will answer. Sorceresses draw their power from both the Midgard Serpent and Yggdrasil. That is what makes them so powerful. I am an Ogre Mage, I too can draw from both the Midgard Serpent and Yggdrasil as I am not human. I am not limited by those laws passed on by Odin. But a well-trained Sorceress may pull in both chaos and order into her spells.”
“Wait a minute,” said Arastead, “you said her spells. A Sorceress is a woman?”
“Of course, only a woman is strong enough to handle both magics at once.”
Everyone looked at Princess Margret for her reaction.
“Makes sense to me,” she said with a smile. “But who is the Sorceress? Why is she not here yet?”
“She has not yet been born,” answered Mage. “But her mother is pregnant with her and so we do not have to wait long.”
“But you may not train a baby,” said Grum. “Even I know that.”
“Grum is right for a change,” said Arastead causing Grum to look offended. “You will need to wait many years before she is old enough. Even at that, how old does a Sorceress need to be so that her magical abilities are at full strength?”
Mage shrugged. “The elves have waited for centuries, what are twenty or thirty more years?” he said.
“I suppose,” said Farling. “But how could one witch, even a so-called Sorceress, what could one Sorceress do?”
Mage said: “A Sorceress has full mastery over air, water, land, and fire. She may cause earthquakes that will level not just villages, but large towns, fortified castles. You may think you are safe behind your walls, but a Sorceress can easily topple those walls with the snap of her fingers. Ships will be swallowed up by the sea as she will command the oceans. Winds will howl at her command tearing full-grown trees out by their roots. Fire will boil the earth and burn your crops. She may, even if she feels, cause such fire storms so that instead of rain falling from the sky, it is hot coals. She may even create elementals: creatures of earth, water, air, fire. An army of earth elementals will be strong enough to destroy any army raised by Aarlund and Dennland.”
Farling whispered: “That is magical power unchecked.”
Everyone was quiet for a moment, thinking about everything Mage had told them.
Farling broke the silence: “Q
ueen Astrid, she is the only person I know who is pregnant with child.”
Arastead chided: “I am sure there are many pregnant women in Dennland and Aarlund.”
“Yes,” agreed Farling, “but how many have had magic coursing through their blood. Think about it: she was attacked by the Draugr, almost killed. That demon used magic on the queen. And then when Sihr and Princess Margret cleansed the queen of the demon’s poison, that too was magic. I suspect the queen carries a future Sorceress.”
Grum shook his head then complained: “Yes, Farling, perhaps, but now you told Mage what you think.”
“He already knew,” said Farling looking Mage in the eyes. “That is why he stole our amulets which give us access to the thieves guild in Trondheim. He even said it, he can create small portals that will act as gateways to other realms. He means to travel to Trondheim, kidnap Queen Astrid, and bring her here.”
Everyone tightened their grip on their weapons.
“For a warrior, you are quite sharp,” said Mage. “Yes, I already knew the queen of Dennland carries a Sorceress child. And it is just for those reasons as well that Farling described. As it turns out, you can make a Sorceress. Perhaps the rune in Yggdrasil is once again uncovered, allowing its power to pour forth. I will make you a deal: if you can defeat me here, I will give you your amulets back. If not, then you will remain here as long as I like. Begin!”
Grum, already holding his war hammer, swung at Mage but to his shock and surprise, the ogre merely caught the shaft of the war hammer.
Grum cried: “That should have felled you like the frost giant I struck!”
“You did not swing hard enough!” teased Mage as he easily threw Grum backwards, causing him to fall on his back.
Farling, his shield raised, swung his sword at Mage, who easily caught the blow on a metal bracer on his forearm. Farling swung again and again, but each blow was easily deflected by Mage.
Mage mocked: “Warrior, you telegraph your moves. I can see by how you plant your feet where you are going to swing. It is if I am fighting a child.”
Farling had never had this much trouble fighting anyone in his life. It was as Mage said, like the ogre knew exactly where Farling was going to strike. After several fruitless attempts of striking Mage, he stopped, feeling sweat pouring down his face.
Grum leaped into the opening, this time taking as full a swing as possible, aimed directly at Mage’s chest. Even though Grum’s attack had been quick, Mage was even faster, and instead of blocking Grum’s attack, he merely sidestepped it so that Grum only swung air. His balance thrown off, Grum struck the ground causing everyone to jump in the air.
Mage put a foot to Grum’s shoulder and pushed him over. “You too, Grum, same as Farling, you may as well write it down on a piece of paper what you are going to do and hand it to me, it is so obvious.”
Arastead swung his quarterstaff at Mage’s head, but like Grum’s first attack, Mage grabbed the weapon in one hand and held it.
Mage brought his face close to Arastead as he hissed: “You are a wizard! Use your quarterstaff as a wizard would. Use it to channel your magic, make your spells powerful. Open yourself to the chaos of the Midgard Serpent, let your magic fly from your lips and fingertips.”
Peg hissed warningly at Mage.
Mage glanced at Arastead’s cat. “And let your familiar guide you as well, make your spells stronger,” he said.
Mage pushed back on the quarterstaff till it was across Arastead’s chest and easily shoved him to the ground.
“Now for the princess,” said Mage.
Margret needed no encouragement and attacked Mage with a short sword in each hand. Like when he fought Farling, Mage simply blocked each her blows on his arm bracers.
“Use the circlet,” urged Mage. “It tells you what I am going to do next. Reach out to it, allow it to tell you what I am going to do. Your circlet has many names: Dreamseer, Visionmaker. I can tell you have used the circlet in the past to see things far away in the future. Use it now to tell you what I am going to do in the next second.”
He brought a raised fist down hard towards Margret’s shoulder. Just in time, she moved her shoulder just enough so that his blow only grazed her.
“Good!” bellowed Mage.
Margret gasped: “How do you know if that was just me or the circlet helping?”
Mage stopped and stood still. Said: “The circlet makes all your senses more acute: taste, smell, hearing, touch, and sight. You princess are already a formidable fighter. Now use the circlet to see my attack moves more closely, as if I was moving slowly. Listen to how the gravel crunches under my feet so that you may foretell my moves. Smell your attacker: do they smell of fear? Use that against them to press your attack. Do they smell confident? Then let their arrogance be their undoing and do not press your attack, wait for them to make a mistake as all fighters make mistakes. And, you are like Arastead: you are not a fighter, you are a healer. Not a cleric, perhaps more of a druid as you use weapons with sharp blades, weapons that draw blood. You should leave the fighting to the warriors.”
Margret’s eyes blazed as she spoke through gritted teeth: “I am Princess Margret, daughter of King Cormac of clan Mac Dún. I have been trained in all weaponry since I was a babe. The life of an Aarlunder is not easy. The winters are harsh and the summers unforgiving. I have been born to warfare.”
Mage allowed himself a small smile, then said: “Good, it is good to see the fire in your belly, the determination in your eyes. Yes, you are a princess, but not one who only plays musical instruments and knows how to dance. You know the dance of the warrior. There is a darkness to being a druid that is different than being a cleric. With your circlet, and your ability to read people’s attack moves, you would make a fine assassin.”
Margret scoffed: “You may think what you like, Mage, but an assassin I will never be,” she said.
Mage simply shrugged his shoulders in response. “Wearing the circlet, all your senses heightened, you could strike your target in absolute pitch blackness with a thrown dagger because you could hear their heartbeat and known their movements even before they did.”
In response, Margret snorted her dissent.
“And you, Farling,” said Mage, “you have the makings of a ranger. You grew up in a small village, you are used to tracking animals.”
“What about me?” asked Grum. “What is special about me?”
Mage grinned as he said: “Grum, you are a warrior through and through. A fighter, someone your friends may always count on to lead the charge, go toe-to-toe with your foes.”
Grum smiled. “I can live with that,” he said. “And do not forget, I am a blacksmith.”
“The world always needs blacksmiths,” said Mage. “Now, attack me again. This time, Grum, Farling, careful with your attacks, try and surprise me more. Arastead, I want some spells thrown at me, and princess, use your circlet to read my moves, wait for me to make a mistake. Again!”
CHAPTER 25
Ogre Mage Sets a Test
“Well, it appears we will not be getting back our amulets any time soon,” said Grum as they took a break from the training. Mage had left them alone to wander around his old village.
Farling wiped the sweat from his eyes, then said: “I worry we will be given to the frost giants for sport and put in arenas to fight giant polar bears and other monstrous beasts.”
“Is there a well nearby or a spring?” asked Arastead. “All this training is thirsty work.”
Margret nodded. “I think I hear the sound of a spring,” she said. “Follow me.”
Sure enough, after a few minutes, Margret found a bubbling spring in a great open square. Everyone took turns scooping water up with their hands and drinking deeply.
“Well, that slakes my thirst, now for my hunger,” said Grum. “You want I should head off into the forest and see what game I can catch with my bow?”
“Let me see what Peg can find,” said Arastead as Peg jumped off his shoulders and ran
off.
Farling shook his head. Said: “I still do not understand why Mage trains us. Why not keep us weak?”
“Unless he means to make us into some sort of weapon,” said Arastead. “It sounds like he was responsible for training the elite fighting group of ogres. Perhaps he wishes to train us to help him free his ogre friends.”
Now Grum shook his head in disagreement. “I think you have been chewing too much visionflower,” he said. “He trains us because he is bored. Our amulets are what he wanted. He sensed us coming through the gateway because of our amulets, he said as much. We are just here as he wanted to visit his old village. We are pawns, foot soldiers who will be so much arrow fodder for Mage. Remember, we are not ogres, we are not his family.”
“Harsh words but Grum speaks truth,” said Farling. “He has some use for us, but what it is, I do not know. We will just need to wait.”
“I do not even think he knows yet what to do with us,” said Margret. “I do not see any future for us yet, it is hazy. Wearing the circlet, it is difficult to see the future for us here in Alfheim.”
“I suspect Mage is using his abilities to cloud your circlet, princess,” said Farling. “I do not trust him, even for all his kindness in honing our fighting abilities.”
“An assassin.” Margret laughed aloud. “I do not think Nas or my father would approve. My father…” Her voice trailed off.
“Your father will raise all of Aarlund,” began Farling, “and if we are not back by the time he is done, he will lead the charge into Alfheim.”
Margret chuckled. “There is no way for him to enter Alfheim, the gateway is sealed,” she said.
“You heard Mage, there is always a way,” said Arastead. “It sounds like the elves have not given up, even though that one gateway is sealed. If they still plan on attacking our realm, then there must be a way for your father to attack them. And he still has Nas. Nas will figure out a way. Or Freya. She will protect our realm, she will do what needs to be done to help Midgard.”
The Prophecy of Asgard Page 16
