Son of Thunder (Heavenly War Series)

by S. C. Mitchell

  The battle came two hours later. The entire force of Fenrir’s army took the field then and the battle for Asgaard began in earnest.

  Arrows, spears and magical spells flew from the walls as the dark elves and giants surged forward in a wave of destruction. Twice they managed to stop the movement of the enemy, even turning it back slightly once, but always there were more forces to take the place of the fallen.

  Fenrir’s army outnumbered the army of Asgaard by three to one, and the son of Loki had no problem throwing the lives of his troops away just to gain an inch of ground. Still the forces of Asgaard held fast, and stood staunchly on the walls as rocks and arrows fell among their ranks from the evil forces below.

  Ladders were brought up and raised against the walls only to be thrown down, but occasionally some of the enemy forces would reach the top and temporarily secure a foothold before being thrown back.

  The fiercest fighting was at the front gates. Giants hauled a large tree trunk with them and were using it as a battering ram. With tremendous force the giants brought the ram against their target, and the iron gates of Asgaard were starting to buckle.

  Jord was in the thick of it. Mjolnir hummed with energy as he flung the hammer, again and again, against their fiercest foes, or directed lightning at the enemy forces. But despite his best efforts the enemy kept advancing. More ladders appeared, and the dark elves continued to scamper up the walls. Jord knew the north gate would not hold much longer. He disengaged, and flew back to the tower where he’d left Heimdell and his father.

  “Now, Heimie.” Jord didn’t feel they had any other choice. The great tree trunk smashed once again into the gate. Steel hinges screamed as the metal stretched and strained against the assault.

  Heimdall stood, and brought the horn to his lips. A deafening tone, low and resounding, filled the air. Power crackled all around as ancient magic was unleashed. In Valhalla ten thousand spirits awoke. Heroes of the past. Great warriors, one and all.

  Just as the great northern gate of Asgaard was thrown down, and the army of Fenrir began to charge into the golden city, the doors of Odin’s golden hall opened, and the heroes of Valhalla poured out. Ancient Vikings, Hessian soldiers, and U.S. Army Rangers issued from the great hall. On horseback, Egyptian chariots, and Sherman tanks they rode. Heroes who’d died bravely from every era, in every war were represented. Policemen and firefighters who’d given their lives for others appeared as well. There were heroes from all cultures, and every walk of life.

  Leading them all, charging ahead on the eight-legged steed, Sleipnir, was Odin himself. The King of the Norse Gods pulsed brightly with power. Jord’s chest swelled with pride as he watched his grandfather. This was Odin’s moment, and the ground shook as the King of the Norse Gods led the bravest of the brave, heroes all, into one last glorious battle.

  There was a war song on their lips, that all took up. As swords struck and arrows flew, axes cleaved, and hammers bashed, the song rose, filling the air with triumph. This was the moment. This was the hour of reckoning long awaited. This was Ragnorok.

  Chapter 46

  The small flame at the tip of the candle started to flicker and diminish. Little by little the flame died until only a wisp of smoke trailed up.

  Sif clapped her hands. “You see. Even mortals can work Nornish magic.”

  Meghan felt the currents moving around the candle as she siphoned off the oxygen from around the flaming wick. Is that what she’d done to Jord? Pulled all the air from around his love so that the flame had died?

  Meghan told herself time and time again to stop thinking about Jord. What they’d had was over. She needed to move on. But Sif kept talking like when the war was over he’d come back to her.

  “I know he still loves you. A mother can sense these things.”

  Meghan just shook her head.

  “When this is all over, you’ll see. He’s just too preoccupied right now.”

  The goddess’s eternal optimism and strength filled Meghan with a warm glow. Meghan couldn’t think of a friend down on earth she’d rather be with more than the goddess, Sif. But deep down, she knew even that was coming to an end. She didn’t belong here.

  Her experiences these past days had been great, if a bit terrifying at times, and she’d never forget the gods of Asgaard, but this wasn’t where she belonged.

  The clear deep tone interrupted her thoughts.

  Sif stood suddenly still, as if heeding a call. “The horn of Heimdall has sounded. The Einherjar have been called from their feasting for the defense of Asgaard.”

  Sif paced the floor, obviously chaffing at her son’s command to stay behind. Now a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Come on, Meghan. I’ve lived all my life in preparation of this day and I will not spend it in hiding.”

  Meghan smiled as the goddess strapped on her sword belt.

  “He’s going to be mad, at both of us,” Meghan warned.

  “Let him!” Sif strode toward the doorway, but she stopped before opening the door and turned toward Meghan. “You are going to go invisible, and stay invisible. If anything happens you get your butt back here, no matter what.”

  Meghan laughed as she pulled out the necklace and activated it. “You’re as bad as your son.”

  Sif snorted. “I’m worse.” She yanked open the door. “So don’t get on my bad side.”

  There was electricity in the air as Meghan followed Sif out on to the streets of Asgaard. The home of Thor and Sif was close to the western wall, south of where the battle was taking place. As they made their way up the steps to the battlements Meghan glanced east toward Valhalla just in time to see the last of the forces ushering out of the great hall.

  “What does it mean?”

  Sif had an unfocused look in her eyes. “The Einherjar ride to war. The horn of Heimdall has the power to call the spirits of Valhalla to one last battle. It was supposed to be at Ragnarok.”

  Meghan kept climbing until she reached the wall, then headed north, continuing to follow Sif. The goddess drew her sword, and Meghan saw fighting on the wall ahead of her. She smiled, bringing Prudr out and extending the club. Sif hadn’t said she couldn’t fight.

  A dark elf was just making its way over the wall from a ladder below. The elf barely had time to draw its sword before the goddess was on him. Sif charged and slashed, causing the dark elf to topple back off the wall. With a vicious kick she sent the ladder out and away from the rampart. It crashed back to the ground bringing the three other dark elves who’d been climbing up with it.

  Meghan saw another head peek over the battlement, and brought Purdr down with all her strength. The dark elf fell, and the weight of its body hit the elf below. In a domino effect the four dark elves climbing the ladder were disengaged and dropped to the ground. Meghan reached down and started to drag up the heavy ladder.

  She called to Sif. “Help me. It will be one less ladder they’ll have to use.”

  “I like how you think.” Sif reached down to help lift the ladder up and away from the grasping dark elves.

  A group of six, young gods came running up with bows, and drove the dark elves off. “Thank you, Lady Sif,” one of them said. “We’d only just heard of this flank attempt.”

  “My pleasure, Rolf.” Sif patted the young god on the back.

  Sif whispered then. “Come on, I want to get a bit closer so we can see what’s happening. But stay invisible.”

  They made their way to the northwest corner tower of Asgaard. From there Meghan could see much of the battlefield. She was amazed at the size of the invading army. It was a sea of bodies surging toward the walls and open gate. Fighting was happening all along the wall, but the Einherjar had pushed the giants back through the broken gatehouse, and as the spirits, now made whole by the magic of Hiemdall’s horn, flooded onto the battlefield they streamed
along the outside wall in both directions, tearing down ladders and defending the ground below.

  Then Meghan spotted Val at the head of the group of Einherjar. She was fighting her way down the outside wall toward Meghan and Sif. The former Valkyrie was swinging her great sword, driving back a pack of dark elves riding wolves, while a group of World War I Marines set up a machine gun nest. Together with two Roman chariots and an old Harley Davidson motorcycle driven by a man in a uniform Meghan couldn’t identify, Val continued to fight her way along the base of the wall.

  Meghan saw three English longbow men taking up position on top of the wall to her right, next to the Asgaardian archers, while a few feet away a soldier with a bazooka blasted one of the frost giants. There was just so much to take in.

  American Civil War Yankees and Rebels formed up together into a single rank to fire and move out onto the battlefield. A mounted troop of Napoleonic soldiers swept east, waving their swords, toward a stone giant brigade, followed by a dozen Greek Hoplites. In the courtyard behind the walls a Korean War era M.A.S.H. unit was setting up tents with big red crosses on them.

  In front of them all rode Odin, on the pure white steed, Sleipnir. The King of the Norse gods raised his fist above his head, and from his hand bright rays of magical power flew, slaying any enemy in his path.

  “For Asgaard and glory!” Meghan heard Odin’s cry above the din of battle.

  “For Asgaard and glory!” The army of Asgaard echoed, and the song rose again from the throng, a song of power and glory, a song of victory. Voices rose as swords fell, and the army of Fenrir was crushed and sent fleeing.

  Chapter 47

  The mead halls and taverns of Asgaard were filled that evening with joy and reveling. Ragnarok had come and Asgaard had survived.

  In Valhalla, the Einherjar gathered for one final feast. There was laughter, but underneath it all there was the pain of parting. Comrades they had been, some for thousands of years, but now each would go on to their final reward. Never again would such a host be gathered together. Odin and the other gods praised and toasted their deeds, long into the night, as one by one the spirits moved on to whatever lay ahead.

  “I’ve seen it!” Val came up to Jord. “They gave me only a glimpse, but it’s beautiful there.”

  The Valkyrie was already fading. Jord couldn’t really understand, wouldn’t really understand, until his time came, but he was happy for Val, while still saddened by her loss.

  “You deserve the best, Val, but I’m really going to miss having you around.”

  She hugged Jord, but as she did she whispered in his ear. “Take care of Meghan. She’s close, too close, to the other side.”

  Before Jord could ask her what she meant she was gone, and he was holding nothing. He’d begun to think it was all over. The golden city was saved and Meghan had survived. There’d been some deaths on their side, of course. Couldn’t one of those have satisfied the prophecy?

  He looked at Meghan across the room with his mother and father. He’d been about to join them and begin the process of mending fences. Wishing, hoping she would understand. Take him back. He ached for her touch. Needed her so badly.

  She’s close, too close, to the other side.

  What had that meant?

  Jord turned and left the hall. He just didn’t feel like celebrating anymore. How many battles did he need to fight? How much did he have to hurt her? How long did he have to stay away from her?

  “Damn prophecies!” Jord shouted as he pounded away from Odin’s hall. “And damn whatever power inflicts them on us!”

  It was necessary. It still is.

  “And damn you, Megingjörð. You started this whole mess. If I didn’t need you to wield Mjolnir I’d cast you into the fires of Muspelheim.”

  The damn belt never gave Jord any useful information. It just messed with his head. How had his father put up with it all those years?

  I can only provide what’s given to me, Jord.

  Then its voice weakened in Jord’s mind.

  I’m sorry.

  Jord closed his mind to Megingjörð. He was sick of the belt’s excuses. He climbed the stairs up onto the northern wall. The night sky was clear, and the stars sparkled above him. It was calm, beautiful . . . like her. Why did every damn thing remind him of her?

  Inside of him a storm raged and threatened to explode. Thunder rumbled on the northern horizon. Clouds billowed up and spread southward.

  Suddenly Jord realized it wasn’t him, he’d contained his rage, kept it hidden, just like he’d kept his love hidden from Meghan. Something else was moving out there. Something evil.

  Black wings, against the night sky. He only caught the hint of movement as the black figure came closer. The raven perched on the tower above him, and then began to change.

  “Jord Thorson.” Loki’s seductive voice held no sway with Jord. “Why are you so disheartened? You’ve won. You are the hero of Asgaard.”

  Jord felt the bile flow in his gut. “Go away, evil one. You’ve caused enough trouble for one day. I swear someday I will hunt you down and kill you, but today is not that day.”

  Loki laughed a long evil laugh.

  “No, Jord Thorson, today is not that day. But do you have tomorrow? How will you protect Asgaard now, when the winds of war threaten? The Horn of Hiemdall has been silenced. The Einherjar have gone to their final reward.”

  The clouds moved in closer from the North. Thunder rumbled again as lightning struck the treetops in the forest beyond the great clearing.

  “Join me, Jord, and you can have the woman.” Loki’s words hit harder than a sledgehammer to his gut. “She only has to die if Asgaard is to be saved. Together we can bring these walls down, crush the gods beneath our feet. The old ways pass.”

  “Get away from me deceiver.” He couldn’t trust anything Loki might say, yet still . . .

  Loki smiled. “Think about it, Jord. You only get one chance at this, one chance to save her. Does she mean nothing to you?”

  Jord threw Mjolnir, but Loki only laughed and turned once again into a flock of blackbirds.

  “Think long and hard, Jord Thorson.” Loki’s voice echoed around him as the flock of blackbirds flew off toward the coming storm. “I’ll be back here tomorrow morning for your answer.”

  The sky to the north pulsed red, and the clouds began to swirl. Jord felt the power being drawn from the elements around him as the portal opened. Jord could feel the evil as it entered. Loki had brought Set, the Titans, and the other evil Gods, with their armies, to Asgaard.

  Chapter 48

  “It was a trap and we walked right into it.” Jord paced as the fury erupted in him. “We played our trump card too early.”

  Jord was in Odin’s hall, and all the major Norse gods were present. The army of Asgaard was remobilized, and guards walked the walls once again, watching the growing force assemble on the northern plain.

  “Not necessarily, Jord.” His father rebuked him. “We needed to win that last battle to get to this one. The Einherjar played their part, but now we must stand fast on our own.”

  “Did that work for the Greeks? The Egyptians? Any of the others?”

  Jord’s heart raced. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He needed to calm down. He had to think. Always in the back of his mind was Loki’s offer. He would never even consider it, except . . .

  Meghan stood across the hall by his mother. Jord shook his head. He’d never get that chance now. To hold her one more time. Kiss those soft lips.

  But Loki was evil. A well-known corruptor of the truth. It couldn’t be what he really offered. He was just holding out a carrot while getting ready to beat Jord with a stick. And yet . . .

  Meghan deserved to live. She’d done nothing to warrant this tragedy. Loki never said Jord needed to keep the h
ammer. He could give everything back to his father, turn his back on Asgaard and walk away. What was one god, more or less, in the coming battle? It wasn’t his fault the golden city was so ill prepared. In fact, he’d tried to warn them on numerous occasions, when the other pantheons were falling. He could play along with Loki until Asgaard fell, then run away with Meghan.

  But could he live with himself? Could she live with him, would she live with him, after he betrayed all he believed in? Jord was beginning to understand how Forseti had been pulled in to Loki’s web of deceit. No, it wouldn’t happen to him. He’d fight to his last breath, he’d die to defend Asgaard.

  Jord suddenly realized everyone was looking at him, as if someone had asked him a question and they waited on his reply.

  “I’m sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment. We need a scouting report. We need to know what we’re up against.”

  Jord plunged himself into the preparations. His mind was now at ease as he prepared for battle once again. He’d won his internal battle, now he just needed to win this war.

  “Heimie, what do you see?”

  Heimdall went into his trance, but because the vision was so close to Asgaard he started speaking almost at once.

  “Loki and Fenrir, Five of the Titans, Set and Quetzalcoatl. Apotamkin, Wendego, and quite a few other major and minor deities have arrived. There’s a flight of Chinese dragons, about two hundred minotaurs, and dozens of other creature types. I can see probably three thousand in all assembled on the battle plain as more still stream through the portal.”

  Gefjon, the Goddess of Agriculture, wrung her hands. “How can we stand against that?”

  It was over. Even sacrificing Meghan would make no difference, and he wasn’t about to do that anyway.