The Sleeping Army

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The Sleeping Army Page 9

by Francesca Simon


  Freya swallowed.

  Did they dare offer her one of her own gold brooches and pray Thor she wouldn’t recognise it as her own? Because if she did …

  Freya fumbled in her pocket.

  ‘I’ve brought something for you, something precious and rare,’ she said, taking out the KitKat and sliding it across the floor towards Skadi.

  ‘Stay back,’ ordered Skadi. ‘What is it?’ she asked, snatching it and sniffing the red wrapper. Her greedy eyes gleamed.

  ‘It’s called chocolate,’ said Freya.

  ‘Choc-o-late,’ said Skadi, rolling the word round her mouth.

  ‘The food of the Gods,’ said Freya. ‘It makes you happy.’

  ‘How do I know it’s not poisoned?’ said Skadi, baring her gangrene-green teeth.

  ‘I’ll eat some,’ said Freya quickly.

  Skadi stuffed the entire bar into her mouth, wrapper and all.

  ‘Delicious,’ she mumbled. ‘Especially the skin. What else?’

  Freya reached again into her pocket. The dead mobile phone would be useless. She held out the quacking duck keyring and squeezed.

  Quack!

  Everyone jumped. The little light glowed.

  Skadi gasped. Freya slid it towards the giantess.

  ‘Some elf magic here …’ murmured Skadi, marvelling at the tiny light. ‘There’s fire inside … I’ve never seen anything like it …’

  Skadi squeezed the keyring. Quack! Quack! Quack! Everyone jumped again.

  ‘You better –’ Quack! – ‘leave before Dad gets home. He doesn’t –’ Quack! –‘like visitors,’ said Skadi. ‘In fact, he usually –’ Quack! – ‘eats them.’ Quack! Quack! Quack!

  ‘Umm …’ said Roskva, her eyes fixed nervously on Skadi. ‘What do you think of our Master’s proposal? You and Magni – is it a match?’

  Skadi paused.

  ‘You’re too late,’ she growled. ‘I’m already betrothed.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say so before you ate my chocolate?’ burst out Freya.

  ‘Who’s the lucky guy?’ said Alfi.

  Skadi simpered.

  ‘Loki.’

  Freya stiffened. Roskva’s face didn’t change.

  ‘Oh! Great! I’m sure you’ll both be very happy,’ said Roskva.

  ‘Yes,’ said Skadi, sighing. ‘We were made for each other.’

  ‘So … where’s Loki now?’ said Roskva carelessly. ‘I’d like to congratulate him.’

  Skadi glared at Roskva. Her hideous face turned green and purple.

  ‘D’you think if I knew that I’d be standing here talking to you?’ roared Skadi. Freya felt weak with fear.

  Skadi began to stomp up and down the Hall, the floor shaking with every clomp.

  ‘Where is he? Where can he be?’ howled Skadi. ‘I want a husband!’ Her angry red eyes flashed. ‘I’m sick of living with Dad and I’m certainly not getting any younger. We’ve eaten all the apples and—’ she broke off. ‘Loki said he’d marry me and make me a goddess if I gave him Idunn. We’d live half in Asgard, and half here. Obviously, when you have such a lovely home like Thrymheim you wouldn’t want to leave it behind forever.’

  ‘Obviously,’ said Alfi.

  ‘We were getting ready to run off together when Dad came home early,’ said Skadi. ‘Loki ran, Dad chased him, but thanks to fate Loki got away. He swore he’d come back for me as soon as he could. And I’ve been waiting for him ever since.’

  ‘So he just ran off with Idunn and left you?’ said Roskva. ‘Typical.’

  Skadi stared at her. ‘What do you think I am, crazy? Of course he doesn’t have Idunn. I—’ Skadi brought her hand to her mouth.

  ‘Where is she then?’ said Freya.

  Skadi looked at her with narrow eyes.

  ‘None of your beeswax,’ said Skadi.

  Where? Where could Idunn be? They’d searched the entire storm-hall. Was there a hidden room or cellar where she was imprisoned? Had she escaped somehow?

  ‘I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting,’ moaned Skadi. ‘Aching with love-longing. Getting old. Getting fat. When I heard noises in the Hall I thought it was my Loki … at last. He’ll come back. I know he will. He loves me, he’s crazy about me. He says my chunky thighs and bristly chin drive him wild. He loves a warty girl. We’re getting married just as soon as he returns. He swore an oath.’

  ‘You know Loki already has a wife?’ said Roskva.

  Skadi grew pale.

  ‘What?’ she whispered.

  ‘Loki has a wife,’ said Roskva. ‘Sigyn.’

  Skadi looked as if she’d been punched in the face. She reeled back.

  ‘You’re lying,’ hissed Skadi.

  ‘Why would I lie?’ said Roskva.

  Skadi shook her head. ‘Why would you lie? Why would you lie? A wife? A wife? What does she look like?’

  ‘She’s gorgeous,’ said Roskva.

  ‘She makes Freyja look like a shrivelled old radish,’ said Alfi.

  ‘Sif looks like a cabbage next to her,’ said Roskva.

  ‘He has a wife …’ muttered Skadi. ‘He has a wife … A beautiful wife. He never mentioned a wife … Children?’

  ‘Two sons, Nari and Vali,’ said Roskva.

  Skadi groaned. ‘That lying, cheating, two-faced son of an ogress … Loki double-crossed me. I believed him, I thought he loved me …’ she wailed.

  Freya tried to look sympathetic. She’d had a lot of practice doing that, while her parents slagged each other off.

  ‘What a creep,’ said Freya.

  ‘He told me he would lie low in Hel, where the Gods couldn’t harm him, then come back for me when it was safe. And I believed him,’ said Skadi bitterly. ‘I’ve wasted my life waiting for him.’ She looked like a bloated fish gasping for breath.

  ‘Men are awful,’ said Roskva.

  ‘Return betrayal with treachery … repay cunning in kind,’ muttered Skadi. ‘Well I’ll show him … no one makes a fool of me.’

  She reached between her enormous sagging breasts and took out a nut.

  ‘Here,’ said Skadi, holding the nut out to Freya. ‘Take this and sod off before I change my mind.’

  Freya flinched. She didn’t want to touch anything which had been in Skadi’s cleavage.

  ‘No thanks, I’m allergic to nuts,’ said Freya.

  Skadi snorted. Her fetid breath reeked of rotten fish.

  ‘Suit yourself, mortal,’ she said, curling her fingers around the nut.

  ‘Wait,’ said Alfi. He went pale.

  ‘Is that – Idunn?’ said Roskva.

  Skadi smiled, flashing her fangs.

  ‘Loki changed her into a nut,’ said Skadi. ‘Give this to Magni as a wedding gift. I accept the proposal.’

  Freya gazed open-mouthed. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. How stupid she was! She could scarcely believe it. Everyone crowded round and gazed at the small brown nut clutched in Skadi’s leathery hand.

  ‘Go on, take her!’ screamed Skadi, hurling the nut against the wall. ‘Serve Loki right. Betrayal must be repaid with treachery.’

  Freya lunged and grabbed the precious nut as it bounced off the wall and rolled across the floor. It felt warm and smooth in her trembling hand. She held it tightly. They had found Idunn! Now all they had to do was race to Asgard and they’d be free.

  ‘GO!’ screamed Skadi. ‘My father will be back any moment. If he finds you here he’ll dash your brains out on the stones and let the wolves in to lap them up.’

  Skadi picked up a stool and hurled it against the wall. It splintered. Freya ducked. Her mother hurled plates sometimes, but …

  ‘That dirty rotten scoundrel!’ bellowed Skadi, hurling a chair.

  CRASH.

  ‘That filthy son of a mare!’

  SMASH.

  ‘May his body be flayed by fire!’

  CRASH. SMASH.

  ‘May he be bound with his son’s guts and poison splashed on his face!’

  SPLINTER.

&n
bsp; ‘I’ll twist his head from his miserable body, that herring-faced manure-breath troll fart! I won’t be made a fool of! I’ll rip his body to pieces and give them to the trolls to eat!’

  The hall quaked as she screamed and rampaged, cursing and stomping and bellowing.

  ‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Alfi. ‘She could change her mind any moment.’

  The four fled outside into the hail. Freya barely noticed the frosty winds lashing them. The relief she felt was indescribable. By some incredible, unexpected whim of fate, they had succeeded in their impossible quest. If the fates continued to smile on them, the Gods would be restored to life and youth, and Freya could return home and this would all be some terrible nightmare which had happened in another time and another life and another world. She prayed to Thor to keep Thjazi well away from them until they were safely back in Asgard.

  They ran to Sleipnir. The grey horse reared, pawing the sky. Icicles clung to his mane, which rattled and clinked as he shook his great head. His breath looked ghostly in the frosty air.

  ‘We’ve got her!’ Roskva rejoiced. Her plain, angry face had lost its fretful expression. ‘I don’t know how, but … we got Idunn!’

  Even Snot smiled.

  Alfi did a little dance.

  ‘Yes!’ he said, smiling. ‘Or is it, woo hoo! Now let’s run from this horrible place before Thjazi gets back and finds Idunn missing.’

  Alfi scrambled up on to Sleipnir’s back, then leaned down to help Freya mount. Snot linked his ivory-laced hands to give her something to step on to.

  One moment Freya had her hand on Sleipnir’s neck, the next he’d vanished. Freya’s wrist was caught in a man’s tight grip. A handsome man with one green eye, one red.

  ‘I’ll have that, thanks!’ he roared, snatching the nut from her and pushing her hard. Freya glimpsed his mottled ivory hand as she reeled and fell over.

  ‘See you in Hel!’ he jeered.

  Then he murmured something and changed back into the eight-legged horse, kicked Snot away, then galloped off riderless down the sloping path from Thrymheim. Roskva lunged for the reins but Sleipnir was too fast and she fell. In a moment he was gone.

  Alfi lay stunned on the icy ground, sprawled beneath Snot, who was grunting and clutching his hip where Sleipnir had kicked him.

  Freya looked down at her empty ivory hand. What had just happened? Who was that man?

  ‘Loki,’ moaned Roskva.

  7 Hekla

  Loki.

  ‘The Wolf’s father,’ gasped Alfi. ‘He was here …’

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Freya. The others stared shell-shocked where Sleipnir had been tethered. Roskva opened her mouth and then closed it. Her shoulders slumped.

  ‘Will someone please tell me what just happened!’ screamed Freya. She kept looking at her shaking hand, which had held Idunn for such a brief moment. ‘I had her, I had her …’ she wailed.

  ‘Shut up!’ raged Snot. ‘Just shut up!’ He clamped his hand across her mouth. Freya flailed at him and he released her, roaring like a mad animal.

  ‘Somehow Loki slipped into the sleeping army disguised as Sleipnir,’ said Roskva tonelessly. Her face was ashen.

  ‘But how? How?’

  ‘He’s a shape-shifter,’ said Alfi. His voice was bitter. ‘He’s a liar, and the father of monsters.’

  ‘And he’s been hiding with us the whole time …’ said Freya. She was having trouble taking this in.

  ‘If I’d known I would have torn out his throat,’ snarled Snot. He was limping badly. Blood stained his bear-skin tunic and dripped down his leg.

  ‘We should have guessed he’d find a way to live while the Gods were dying,’ said Roskva. Angrily, she brushed away tears. ‘Fate chose us for misfortune.’

  Freya felt numb. She could still feel Loki’s fingers on her shoulders where he’d shoved her. All around her the wind howled, and the world was as desolate as her spirits.

  ‘Oh Gods, we were so close … so close …’ said Roskva, scrambling to her feet.

  ‘We have to get away,’ said Alfi. ‘Then we’ll decide what to do.’

  There was nothing to do, thought Freya. They’d lost.

  How they got down from Thrymheim into the valley below Freya never knew. She skidded down the icy path, stumbling, falling over, Roskva and Alfi urging her to move faster, Snot limping and cursing and raging as she clung to him for balance. The closer the rocky trail got to the waterfall, the mossier and slippier it became.

  ‘All isn’t lost,’ said Alfi, clenching his fists. ‘We just have to find Loki and get Idunn back.’

  Freya stared at him. ‘Just?’ she said.

  Alfi might as well have said ‘We just have to turn into dinosaurs and jump to the moon.’

  ‘And how are we going to find him?’ said Roskva. ‘Loki could be anywhere in the nine worlds.’ She pushed up her long linen sleeve. The mottled ivory was nearing her elbow.

  ‘We’re doomed,’ said Snot. ‘It’s over.’ A trickle of blood ran from his ripped tunic. ‘We should find somewhere dry and wait till our fate summons us.’

  There was a silence. Freya listened to the waterfall as it pounded into the rocks, shielding her face from the biting sleet. To sit and rest, just to accept fate …

  So much for Woden’s charms and runes and wisdom. The Trickster had defeated them. Her last meal would be gruel, then she would learn to say toilet in twenty-six languages as she stood frozen for eternity as a chess piece in the British Museum. She’d never see her parents or her friends again. Silent tears trickled down her face. She’d always known their quest was hopeless.

  ‘Wait,’ said Roskva. ‘Wait. What did Loki say when he snatched Idunn?’

  Who cares what he said?

  ‘He said, “See you in Hel,”’ muttered Freya.

  ‘Why did he say that?’ said Roskva.

  ‘Because we’re all going to die,’ said Alfi.

  ‘No-o,’ said Roskva. ‘No. He was taunting us. That’s where he’s gone …’

  Alfi gasped. He stopped so abruptly the others all bumped into him.

  ‘Hel? He’s gone to Hel?’

  ‘The Realm of the Dead?’ said Freya.

  ‘What makes you so sure?’ said Alfi.

  ‘It’s where he told Skadi he would hide from the Gods,’ said Roskva. ‘They have no power there. Hel is his daughter and she alone rules that grim world named for her. Loki can wait in Hel until the Gods die then he’ll be free to do as he likes.’

  ‘But why hide? He’s got Idunn now,’ said Freya.

  ‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Roskva. Her face lit up. ‘You saw his ivory hand. He’s like us. Idunn can keep him young but he’ll still turn back into a chess piece if we don’t restore Idunn to the Gods. Hel is the only place he can go where Woden’s charm can’t affect him.’

  ‘Unless Loki’s taken Idunn back to Asgard like he promised,’ said Alfi.

  ‘You think he has?’ said Roskva.

  ‘No,’ said Alfi. ‘That’s not Loki’s nature.’

  ‘The apples of Hel,’ murmured Freya. ‘We had to learn a poem in school once about them.’

  ‘Meaning?’ said Roskva.

  ‘Well,’ said Freya, ‘the poem makes a bit more sense if Loki actually took Idunn’s apples there … oh, never mind,’ she said.

  ‘If Loki’s gone to Hel then we have to follow him,’ said Alfi. His bulging eyes were very wide. ‘Going to Hel …’ He shook his head in disbelief.

  ‘That means finding Helveg,’ said Roskva. ‘There’s no other way there.’

  ‘Helveg?’ said Freya apprehensively.

  ‘The dark road to Hel,’ said Alfi. ‘No light touches it.’

  Roskva suddenly gasped and shook her head.

  They conferred rapidly in their own language, gesticulating and shouting.

  ‘What are you saying?’ said Freya. ‘Please speak so I can understand.’

  Roskva grimaced. All the happiness had drained from her face.
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br />   ‘I told him the truth: Hel is too far away. Riding Sleipnir was our only chance,’ said Roskva. ‘On foot we’ll never get there in time.’ She peered down her tunic. ‘My body is more than half ivory now,’ she said. ‘We have … what? Four nights left? We’ll be chess pieces again long before we ever reach the entrance and Hel’s dog eats us.’

  ‘I can run,’ said Alfi stubbornly.

  ‘Even you’re no match for Sleipnir. Helveg is many nights’ travel from here. It’s much further than Asgard.’ She sighed. The wind swirled round her cloak.

  ‘So that’s why Loki told us where he was going,’ said Alfi.

  ‘He was gloating. He knows we have no chance of reaching Hel before our time is up.’

  ‘So we’re stuffed?’ said Freya.

  ‘Stuffed?’

  ‘Finished. It’s over. We’re history,’ said Freya. All that effort and cold and wet and terror – for nothing. She felt more tired than she had ever felt in her life.

  ‘There is another way to Hel,’ said Snot.

  The others stared at him.

  ‘What other way?’ said Alfi. ‘Helveg is the only road.’

  ‘Hekla,’ said Snot.

  There was total silence. Alfi and Roskva looked at one another.

  ‘Are you crazy?’ said Alfi.

  ‘What’s Hekla?’ said Freya. The word had an ugly cackling sound. It didn’t sound good.

  ‘Hekla is a volcano and entrance to Hel,’ said Alfi. ‘No one goes anywhere near there.’

  Freya closed her eyes. Oh Gods!

  ‘I can’t climb down a volcano,’ said Freya. She couldn’t even make it up and down the climbing wall at the local sports centre. ‘You’ll have to go without me.’

  ‘Who said anything about climbing down, stupid?’ said Roskva. ‘Remember the All-Father’s gift?’

  The falcon skin. Freya felt the quivering feather in her pocket. She’d forgotten all about it.

  Why oh why hadn’t Woden given the falcon skin to one of the others? She was supposed to fly down a volcano?

  ‘Wait. What about you?’ said Freya. Cold sweat started to collect in her armpits.

  ‘What about us?’ said Roskva. She avoided catching Freya’s eye.

 

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