by Hart, Joan
“Dad?” Cat headed towards her father’s office. He called it that; really it was a very small single bedroom with a computer, table, swivel chair and walls lined with books.
“Dad.”
“What now?”
Her father’s tone indicated he wasn’t happy with the interruption. Cat looked at the screen – boring spreadsheets.
“Dad, have we got any books on Viking runes?”
A jerk of the head indicated the area to search. Cat began pulling appropriate looking books from the shelves. This was one good thing about having teachers for parents, they were good for resources.
Back in her room she began her search and settled down with a pen and paper by her side. She read the explanation of the Viking letters, it sounding quite similar to the explanation she’d had from Kiert. The thought of Kiert covered her skin in goosebumps. With the discovery of the ring all the rest was true; she must do some more research because he needed her help.
“The basic alphabet has sixteen runes,” she read. “Most inscriptions for everyday messages were on wood or bone, some on stone told deeds of heroic victories.” So runes on a ring must be really special, thought Cat. She took the ring off and, holding it under the spotlight, copied the lines onto paper. She then returned to her books seeking out and illustrating as many lines as she could.
“Have you finished your homework?” Mum’s head appeared around the door.
“I’ve done tonight’s. I’m working on next week’s. Is it OK if Sharon and Amanda come round tomorrow – we’re researching together?”
“Of course. Text them and say they can come for dinner. Not too long now.”
The head never attached itself to its body but disappeared back around the door. Cat checked her watch; she’d been working over an hour. The runes mesmerized her and she worked nonstop until her page was covered in symbols. Now she took each symbol on the ring and began to search for its likeness on the page. Another hour went by. Finally she had completed the saying:
C A T S K A R D
T R E A S U R E
S K A R D
F O R E V E R
A knock came at the door.
“Come on, it’s late and you’ve got school tomorrow. Lights out!”
“OK!”
In truth, Cat was glad to give it a rest. Her eyes were stinging; vision blurry and she had a headache. Quickly she undressed, put on her ’jamas and ran to the bathroom. Luckily she’d timed it right, she’d made it before Ben who stayed in the bathroom for hours. Back in her room she sent a text her friends, then put out the light and jumped into bed pulling the duvet up to her ears. She lay snuggled feeling the warmth envelope her. She touched the ring briefly then fell deeply asleep.
The Althing
Breakfast was its usual manic occasion in the Redwood household. Cat disappeared to the sanctuary of her room as soon as she possibly could. She packed her school bag and made sure the ring and amber were safely stowed in her pencil case ready for the day ahead. Her two friends were waiting at the school gates for her. Both girls looked worried.
“Have you done all that maths homework? We’ve still got four to do. Old Mutley will go ape again if we write a letter saying we didn’t understand.”
Amanda stated the obvious as they dragged their feet towards the classroom. An unexpected glow flooded through Cat’s body as, through registration, she patiently explained how to complete the last four questions; adding that she found them quite easy. The look her friends gave her set Cat up for the day.
It wasn’t until lunchtime that the three managed to get together again to talk over the saga. This was mainly due to their incessant chatter in class resulting in the three of them having to stop in through break just to finish their work. Cat reminded the girls about staying to dinner after school and suggested that after they’d eaten they should go and use the computer for more research. Lunch became a very hurried affair and soon the three friends sat shoulder to shoulder, hunched over the dim screen as the usual hum announced some sort of action. The wooden planks Cat and her friends found themselves standing on were wet, the planks forming some sort of street. Houses either side were made of large planks hammered vertically into the soil, the entrances facing the ‘street’.
“I’m glad to see you again Cat.”
The voice immediately behind them made the girls jump.
“Kiert! Great to see you again.”
“You have brought friends. Good.”
Without waiting for introductions he steered Cat and her dazed friends across a yard and entered a nearby house. As far as Cat could tell, it belonged to a crafts smith, for weapons and tools hung at the far end of the room away from the living quarters.
“Welcome to my home. My father is a weapons smith here – you’ll meet later.” Kiert picked up his cloak, then with the girls in tow left the house again.
“It’s very quiet around here.”
Amanda, who had obviously found her voice and who didn’t seem at all worried by the unusual happenings was the first to comment.
“Yes, and we must hurry.”
Five minutes of quick walking brought the little group to a hilly piece of land with a flat step cut out of it. Three men stood on the highest part of the land talking to the crowd below.
“What’s happening?” whispered Sharon as they quietly made their way to the front.
“Everyone has to attend ‘The Althing’. It’s here that our taxes are set, weapons checked and any community problems are solved. Anyone who can’t attend has to send a representative. Every Viking is bound by their sense of community, and we help one another whenever we can.”
The four stood for some minutes listening to the debate, which became more and more animated. Then weapons clashed loudly together.
“What was that all about?”
Three pairs of eyes turned towards the young boy.
“That shows everyone is in agreement with the decision taken. Come on.”
Like three obedient sheep, the girls followed Kiert as he shepherded them back towards his house. Now the streets were busier, market stalls were open and selling produce and there was an air of excitement, which seemed to increase as people became aware of the children passing. Once inside the long house they were met by Kiert’s parents, who made the girls welcome and sat them down with a bowl of soup and bread. Little was said whilst they ate, but once or twice when she had glanced up, Cat had caught both parents gazing at them. Bowls were cleared and after a little hesitation, Kiert’s father began.
“We need to explain why you are here, and why we need your help. You are going to find out about a most important man found in one of our sagas. His name is ‘Sigurd’.
Our sagas are about real people. Over the years his true heroic and magical deeds have become lost in the many translations. Also lost is the magical Skard ring and the sacred amber from the amulet found in Andvari’s treasure Incorrect additions and mistakes have crept into the telling of these stories. As a result we have lost the heart and truths of our beliefs. People do not read about our stories anymore. They think our past history is boring. We need you and your friends plus your magic to return to the original story. We need you to return the amber and the treasure to Sigurd without the curse and the ring to our most famous Skard. This will ensure that the stories will survive truthfully and intact for any future readers. This is so important to our people. We have discussed this with our community at ‘The Althing’ and it is agreed. You have the best chance of helping us in this important quest. All three of you are, in your own ways, special.”
He turned to Amanda.
“You, my fiery, red-haired one, are like Brynhild, a Valkyrie, a special female warrior of old. And you,” turning to Sharon, “have the beauty and wisdom of Freya, wife of the most powerful God Odin. But you,” his
eyes rested on Cat, “aah, you are the key to the whole venture. You have understood our ancient runes, you can make poetry, a useful skill which can save lives, you are in touch with the spirits and you have the Skard ring and amber talisman.”
At the mention of the ring, Sharon and Amanda turned to look at Cat. She raised her right hand. There it was, though she hadn’t realized she’d put it there.
Kiert’s father took Cat’s hand.
“Although our warriors would gladly fight, this is one adventure in which they cannot take part. That is for you. We need you to go back to the beginning. It is important that you to tell your sagatruthfully, showing others how much excitement and enjoyment can be had in reading our stories. To help you do this we have put together a set of talismans which may be useful on your journey. Will you help us?”
The silence that followed hung heavy in the long house. Amanda was the first to speak.
“It’ll make one great presentation for old Cosy-toes!” Her grin heralded the forming of the friendship triangle.
“Show us the talismans,” said Sharon.
Kiert’s mother clapped her hands together and rushed to the corner of the long house, returning almost immediately with a casket and three swords. She opened the casket and began:
“A silken thread, which can magically tie up the legs and muzzles of even the fiercest wolves.
A magic formula in runic language carved on a piece of wood; once understood this can break open prisons, pull apart chains or rouse or calm waves.
An ash tree twig. It has life-giving properties and holds the answer to the mysteries of life.
A necklace. It has Thor’s hammer in the form of a pendant; it gives the ability to know right from wrong and good from evil.
And finally a magic sword each. They are double-edged and will come to you whenever you call.”
The casket lid was closed and the swords given to the girls.
The raucous sound of the dinner bell signalled the end of dinnertime and the beginning of afternoon classes. This loud noise brought the girls to the present.
“Wow. Like, wow.” For a chatterbox, words seemed to fail Amanda. The girls rose zombie-like and headed off for the next lesson.
A Giant Story
After the evening meal the two friends helped Cat dry the dishes, then stormed to the bedroom. Bags were emptied and books opened. Amanda picked up a pencil case and began rubbing it like a genie’s lamp.
“Well, we’ve got talismans but how do we find our way to old Sigurd?”
“Ta da!” Sharon magically produced one of Mrs Cosyner’s history discs from her bag. “I did ask!” Three pairs of feet thudded to the ‘office’ and Cat set the machine in motion. They loaded the disc, expecting the magical transformation but nothing happened. The screen remained stubbornly blank.
“I’d try switching it on if I were you!”
The girls turned to find Ben standing in the doorway.
“Haven’t you got work to do? Go away, pain.” Cat got up and shut the door on her brother. She sat down at the computer. The monitor sprang to life.
A Viking longship, with 32 oars down the side and yellow and black painted shields lay on the water. The sail was dyed red and at the front a carved dragon figurehead was tied to the prow by leather strips. At the back on the right hand side lay a huge oar held by a Viking. As they watched the scene became animated. Men milled to and fro on deck, some carrying barrels. Seagulls wheeled overhead; a young boy made his way towards the dragon figurehead and began waving furiously.
“That’s Kiert!” said Sharon, “I’m sure it is.”
The three girls peered closer and found themselves giving Kiert a group hug. All three took an involuntary step backwards; they weren’t ready for such closeness to a boy.
“Everything is ready. Follow me.” Kiert turned and made his way mid-ship.
“He’s always giving orders,” mumbled Amanda, “typical boy,” but nevertheless she followed.
A small group of men sat around the main sail on upturned barrels. Cat recognized the storyteller and as her eyes met his, he gave a nod of recognition and welcome.
“Good, you came prepared.”
A brief glance at her friends told Cat that since their arrival they had acquired warm clothes and their swords.
“We know of the council’s decision. We are here to guide you and keep you safe. The journey is long and dangerous for there are many who will not want changes; Loki for instance can be most evil if crossed. But come, it’s becoming colder.”
He led the children towards the prow. A sail had been tied across the bows giving a covered tent area and inside was out of the wind.
“Who’s that?” whispered Sharon to Cat.
“He’s a storyteller. I met him on my first visit.”
“You didn’t tell me you’d met him before.” A petulant pout appeared on Amanda’s lips. Cat shrugged her shoulders. It wasn’t worth the hassle trying to explain.
“So, you tell stories?” Amanda was obviously on a roll, “What about one now? This trip is obviously going to take some time.” She plonked herself down in a huff, an ‘I’m not going to enjoy this’ look on her face. The storyteller seated himself in front of them and began.
“One day the Gods Thor, Loki and their two servants set off to visit Urgard, the land of the giants. After a long, and very tiring journey they arrived at the gates of Urgard, but they were locked. Thor shook them hard and hammered on them, calling for someone to come and open them up. Finally, after much banging and crashing, they managed to get themselves into the Great Hall. In the hall was a long table around which hundreds of giants were sat eating and drinking.
As Thor marched up to the Giant King. The other giants began to laugh and mock him.
“Greetings, Giant King,” said Thor.
The Giant King didn’t even look up but carried on chewing on a bone. He tossed the bone over his shoulder and picked up a new one. Thor spoke again a little louder.
“Greetings, Gia... ”
The Giant King interrupted: “You’re the great thunder god Thor, are you? Well, you look scrawny to me. I suppose you’ve come to test your strength?”
Thor replied, “I doubt if anyone here is stronger than I.”
“All the young giants here test their strength by lifting my cat. Perhaps you would like to try?”
Curled up behind the Giant King’s chair was the most ENORMOUS cat Thor had ever seen. He put both arms under the cat and heaved. The cat didn’t move. Thor heaved again and managed to get one paw off the ground before crashing to the floor and admitting defeat.
“You’re not very strong are you!” said the Giant King. “Perhaps you are better at drinking?”
The King signalled to a servant who brought forward a HUGE drinking horn.
“A good drinker can finish in two gulps. What can the great Thor do?”
Thor took the horn. He raised it to his mouth and began drinking, but ran out of breath before the horn was empty. He drank a second and a third time but again ran out of breath. A fourth time he tried but it seemed no emptier than before.
“You’re not much of a drinker, are you?”
Thor grew angry. “I can match anyone in a fight. Is there any among you who will wrestle with me?” The hall erupted in laughter.
“We feel that wrestling with you would be too easy,” said the Giant King. “Perhaps it would be better if you wrestled my grandmother!”
A wrinkled old woman hobbled forward towards Thor, leaning heavily on a stick. Thor thought the King was making a fool out of him until the old woman took hold. He knew at once his strength would be tested. They struggled and fought but eventually the old woman threw Thor off balance.
“Stop, stop,” shouted the Giant King. “You pose no threat. You can eat
with us and stay in Urgard.”
Thor woke early and woke his companions.
“Come on, we’re going before they wake up,” he whispered.
To his surprise, the Giant King was already waiting for them.
“Do not feel too badly about your failures last night,” he said. “You were not competing in a fair fight. As soon as I saw you I feared your strength so I used my magic to deceive you. The cat you lifted was really the giant serpent whose body is wrapped around the world. The other end of the horn you drank from was in the sea. And as for the old woman, it was a wonder you withstood her for so long. You see she is Old Age, which defeats all men in time.”
Thor was furious. He had been tricked. He seized his hammer and... ”
“Land ahead! We need the young adventurers to come quickly; a boat has been lowered and the day draws on.”
“But what about the end of the story?” wailed Amanda, who was by now well into the telling; but found herself being bundled out of the tent and into the waiting boat.
“What did Thor do to the Giant King?”
“You’ll be able to ask him that yourself, later,” replied the Storyteller.
The First Talisman
“I’m not going any further.” Amanda stamped her foot. “I’m cold, I’m tired, I’m hungry and I’m sick of dodging in and out of these pine trees; and you can shut up too Cat Skard.”
Amanda sat down heavily. She had been building up to this for some time. The way had been hard. They’d begun by walking along the shoreline, but over the last two hours had battled upwards through the pine forest, which stretched dark and forbidding as far as the eye could see. The initial delight of throwing pine cones at one another and the fresh pine smell had quickly worn off. Occasionally they had emerged into small, open patches of ground, but the men had swiftly moved them across these and into the trees again.
