Bloodsong Hel X 3

by C. Dean Andersson

  She awakened us! Veinslicer suddenly reminded the others. We must believe her! Odin’s promise was kept! What she says must be true!

  She’s a human seeking to trick us! cried Woundeater, or perhaps a Witch sent by Hel!

  My blood and yours mingled when I awoke you, Woundeater, Bloodsong said, holding his gaze and, though in human form, still using her thoughts. Ask your own blood if I tell the truth or lie.

  Woundeater held her gaze for a moment more, then looked away.

  Bloodsong and freedom! Veinslicer shouted. Odin and Asgard!

  One by one the other beasts took up the twin battle-cries, until even Woundeater joined in.

  Bloodsong held up her hands to regain their attention. You have now seen that Odin’s promise that Werebeasts could one day take human form has been kept, she continued, but there is an even greater wonder which I will now reveal. Odin promised that in time your descendants would become so familiar with their human forms that they would forget that they had ever been beasts, and this has happened, for it was thus with me. But Odin did not tell us that in time our beast-selves might be totally absorbed, leaving our children without the slightest essence of beasthood in their blood. Yet this, too, is so!

  This is my daughter, Guthrun, she said, touching Guthrun’s shoulder. This morning she tried to enter the lake of beast-blood at Frigga’s Crag but could not. It burned her flesh like acid, as it would any who had no beasthood in their soul.

  My daughter is wholly human!

  Bloodsong heard the mingled thoughts of the beasts, confused, excited, doubtful, hopeful, swirling together in her mind as the ones near the front pressed closer to study Guthrun. Bloodsong raised her hands to quiet them again, then continued.

  Perhaps Guthrun is the first to experience this wonder, perhaps not. There may have been many over the ages to which this has happened unknowingly. But she is proof that it can, and has, and will happen again and again and again, until one day all our children shall be like her.

  But before that can happen, we must again battle Hel. And although Odin stole the War Skull from her during the battle you remember, I, for love of my daughter, helped her to regain it.

  The beasts’ thoughts again became a turmoil of conflicting emotions.

  Yes! Bloodsong cried with her thoughts, because of my love for Guthrun, the Earth stands in danger. But I do not regret what I did! For Guthrun’s sake I would do it all again! Are there any among you who would do less for a child of your own?

  The beasts quieted once more.

  Will you follow me into battle against Hel, as you followed the first Bloodsong so many ages ago?

  The beasts stared at her for long moments in silence, then Veinslicer again cried, Bloodsong and freedom!

  Odin and Asgard! shouted Razorclaw.

  Life for our children! said Woundeater as the others quickly joined in with battle-vows of their own.

  “I think the answer is yes,” Guthrun said quietly, taking Bloodsong’s hand. “I can read thoughts, too, now, remember? When may I kill Lokith?”

  Bloodsong looked up at the sun hanging low on the horizon. With no Hel-horses left for Guthrun to protect with a cloud-spell, and Lokith’s sorcery no longer strong enough to generate even clouds, clear skies had returned, except in the north, where black clouds still boiled above the Hel-march.

  “Lokith may know secrets that will help us in the coming battle, Guthrun. You can, I assume, read his thoughts too?”

  “It will not be a pleasant experience, but yes.”

  “And can you explain why you’re no longer struggling for your life and soul as you were? I was worried that you were dying, but you are now acting as strong and alert as you did in the encampment before all this began.”

  Guthrun frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know why,” she finally said, “but I’m not complaining.”

  “Nor am I.” Bloodsong smiled, then she thought of Huld and the smile faded.

  “If you’re feeling strong again,” Ulfhild said, having transformed back to human form and thus startling several nearby beasts, “could you spare a Berserker a small healing spell? I wouldn’t ask, because it will heal on its own during the night, except that for all I know, I’ll have to fight before then and—”

  “Of course, Ulfhild,” Guthrun cut in. “You don’t have to make excuses,” she added, eyeing the raw wound in Ulfhild’s side. “But I don’t know how it’s going to make these beasts feel about me when I start using Hel-magic.”

  “I will explain, if there’s a need,” Bloodsong assured her.

  “And Lokith?” Ulfhild asked.

  “Let me do something about that,” Guthrun offered. “I won’t kill him, Mother,” she quickly added, “just keep him out of trouble.”

  Bloodsong nodded.

  Lokith glared at Guthrun but remained silent, so weak now that in order to stay on his feet he was leaning on his sword for support.

  Guthrun concentrated her will and hissed a word of power.

  Lokith slumped unconscious to the snow.

  “That was fun,” Guthrun said, then noticed that several of the beasts were now looking at her suspiciously.

  “You told them I was wholly human,” Guthrun noted, “but not that I was a Witch.”

  “Don’t worry, Guthrun,” Ulfhild said, “I’ve learned not to hold either of those things against you. Perhaps they won’t, either.”

  Bloodsong led the way back to Huld’s body.

  “If only she were just wounded,” Guthrun said, going to her knees beside her fallen friend. “Now that my strength’s back, I could heal her—” her voice trailed away. She suddenly leaned closer to the Freya-Witch, peered intently at her face, then grabbed the tail of her cloak and jerked it up to cover both her head and Huld’s. An excited cry came from beneath, then Guthrun threw back the cloak.

  “She’s alive!” she cried. “Beneath her eyelids there’s a faint yellow-gold glow!”

  “Alive?” Bloodsong asked as she and Ulfhild fell onto their knees and crowded closer. “But she’s not breathing, Guthrun, and—”

  “Remember how Norda Greycloak made Thokk’s soldiers think she was dead that time in the cottage?” Guthrun reminded them. “Perhaps with her new High Priestess powers Huld can do that too. Maybe she did it to preserve what little life is left, or possibly to help try to heal the wound. But she won’t have to heal herself now, because I can do it for her!”

  Bloodsong and Ulfhild drew back as Guthrun started to work, concentrating her will and chanting guttural Hel-Runes of power as she held her hands over the charred wound in Huld’s chest.

  “I guess my healing spell will have to wait,” Ulfhild laughed.

  Bloodsong got to her feet. “There’s a battle coming, Ulfhild,” she said, “and we may not survive it. But this moment is sweet, and today’s victories are—”

  “Are you certain about that battle?” Ulfhild interrupted. She pointed at the northern horizon.

  The boiling black clouds of Hel-march were not covering as much of the sky as they had a short time earlier.

  “And I’ll wager that the purple glow will be fainter tonight,” Ulfhild added. “Hel must be retreating. That’s why Guthrun’s stronger again. Hel knows that you’ve awakened the beasts and that Lokith is your captive. She’s abandoning him and Her plans.”

  Bloodsong cursed. “But she’ll not give up. She’ll try new plans. By the Gods, no! I vowed to break Her power, and break it I shall, even if I have to follow Her through the gates of Helheim to do it!”

  Bloodsong looked to where Guthrun was working over Huld. Purple rays of healing energy were now streaming from Guthrun’s hands, closing the wound on Huld’s chest.

  Prepare to leave! Bloodsong shouted with her thoughts to the beasts. Hel is retreating, but we’re going to catch Her!

  She started to tell Guthrun t
o hurry but knew that the healing magic had to run its course, so instead she turned to Ulfhild and said, “Let’s get Lokith. I’m going to convince one of the beasts to let us strap him to its back. There may still be secrets Guthrun can steal from his mind before we catch up with Hel.”

  “It will feel good to be the hunters this time,” Ulfhild noted with a grim laugh. “I was growing very tired of always being the prey.”

  “Goddess!” Huld cried as her eyes snapped open and she sat up. “Guthrun!” She pulled the younger woman into her arms. “By Freya’s Teats! Thank you! That was close!”

  WE MUST BE gaining on her, Veinslicer commented as she raced over the snow through the night beside Bloodsong and Ulfhild. The purple glow is growing steadily brighter.

  Aye, Bloodsong agreed. If Lokith grows too heavy for you, Veinslicer, we can let another carry him for a while.

  If you and the Berserker can carry humans on your back, so can I.

  “Yes, we are gaining on Hel, Mother,” Guthrun agreed, having read the mental communication. “The darkness is growing stronger within me again.”

  “Guthrun,” Huld said, “I was serious when I suggested earlier that you stay back from the battle. Please consider it. It might even be best if you dismounted now.”

  “Very well, Huld,” Guthrun interrupted. “I will consider it.” She was silent for just an instant. “I’ve done so. The answer is no.”

  “You’ll be no help in the battle,” Huld insisted. “You’ll fall unconscious again. Maybe even die. I can’t let that happen to you, especially not after you just saved my life.”

  “And how are you going to stop me? By force?”

  “No, of course not, but—”

  “Huld, I suffered in Helheim. I lived the first six years of my life in its icy darkness. I know better than most what the Earth would be like if Hel ever conquers it. I must fight in this battle, just as you must. What good will I have done these past years fighting the darkness in myself if I do not now also fight the darkness that threatens the Earth? And besides, I don’t think I’ll be affected as badly this time. Controlling the darkness seems easier than before. Maybe my fighting it earlier has made me stronger.”

  Bloodsong! came a mental call from one of the beasts on the outer edge of the pack. Riders! Humans on horseback!

  Huld concentrated her Witch-senses. “It can’t be them,” she said with a skeptical frown, and concentrated harder.

  “Who?” Guthrun asked. “Hel-warriors? Those who were with Lokith outside the Lair?”

  “It is them!” Huld cried. “It’s not a trick! It’s our warriors from the encampment! Valgerth, Thorfinn, Jalna, Tyrulf!”

  “It can’t be,” Guthrun responded.

  “I already said that, Guthrun,” Huld said with a laugh, “but it is.”

  Don’t harm the humans, Bloodsong ordered the beasts, having heard what Huld said, until I say otherwise.

  Bloodsong broke through the pack, Ulfhild and Veinslicer by her side, and saw for herself the distant riders across the dimly moonlit icy plain. She called for a halt. As the riders came ever closer, she strained with her beast-senses but detected no danger. Soon, she could see that the mounted riders were being led by a huge lone wolf.

  She sniffed the air and detected familiar scents. They are friends! she told the beasts. They’ve come to fight with us against Hel.

  By the time the riders from the encampment had reached them, Bloodsong and Ulfhild had transformed into their human forms.

  Jalna and Valgerth were the first among many to jump to the ground and race forward to embrace Bloodsong and the other three women who stood before the pack of dozens of black beasts, and when the excitement died down, Bloodsong began introducing her allies from the encampment to her allies from the Lair.

  * * *

  Bloodsong soon gave a brief description to her friends from the encampment of what had happened to her and her three companions since escaping Lokith, and she had also explained about the Werebeasts and her connection to them. She told them, too, about Grimnir’s death. The news had come as a sad shock. Lokith’s men had removed Grimnir’s corpse before the others had regained consciousness, and they had hoped to find that the well-liked, red-bearded warrior had escaped with Bloodsong. Knowing the love Bloodsong had felt for him, their hearts went out to her.

  When Bloodsong finished, Jalna described what had happened in the encampment.

  They were all riding toward the distant purple glow, steadily closing the distance.

  Knowing that Bloodsong’s group and Valgerth’s, having escaped without mounts, would probably need horses if found, Tyrulf and the warriors from the encampment had brought extra when they left in pursuit of Jalna.

  Bloodsong now rode upon Freehoof, the massive black stallion Grimnir had once given her. Guthrun rode upon Frosthoof, also a gift from Grimnir. Ulfhild rode Bloodhoof, the sire of Freehoof and Frosthoof, Grimnir’s own mount. He had more than once told the Berserker that if he fell in battle, Bloodhoof was to be hers. Ulfhild normally preferred to travel in beastform, but for Bloodhoof, and Grimnir’s memory, she’d made an exception, and to conserve her strength for the coming battle.

  Lokith, still unconscious under Guthrun’s spell, and now doubly bound by a strengthening spell of Huld’s, had been tied across an extra horse.

  “And so,” Jalna continued, “as we were traveling through the forest, that large wolf led Valgerth and Thorfinn and their children to us. Then, having no better idea how to find you, we decided to trust in the Gods and follow the beast north. It’s obvious that there’s something strange about that wolf,” she said, looking around for it among the other beasts. “Where did it go?”

  “I haven’t seen it since we arrived,” Valgerth replied.

  “Maybe it went back south to its home,” Thora responded, “but I still think it was Allfather Odin in disguise.”

  “Or a wolf he sent to help us,” Yngvar added.

  “All that’s important,” Bloodsong said, “is that we’re together again. Let the Gods worry about how.”

  Bloodsong noticed that Veinslicer, who had run alongside after Bloodsong had first mounted Freehoof, had slowly fallen farther and farther behind. The beast within Bloodsong understood. Bloodsong acted quickly to repair any hurt she might have inadvertently caused.

  I need your advice, Veinslicer, Bloodsong said with her thoughts.

  My advice? Veinslicer asked as she quickly caught up and again paced Bloodsong’s horse.

  Will the pack think less of me for riding in human form on this horse? Should I instead lead them through the night in my beastform?

  Veinslicer did not reply for a moment, then she said, You will be fresher for the battle if you ride the horse-beast, Bloodsong. My advice is to stay as you are. And if any beast thinks less of you for it, I will change its mind with my claws. It would only be jealousy if any of them did. We would all change to human form if we could, she added, her deep longing and envy evident in the intense emotions with which her thoughts were charged.

  Bloodsong remembered her Runes in Frigga’s Crag and how her ancestor had felt looking up at Freya. Veinslicer, she realized, and perhaps all of the beasts, were feeling that way now about her, as if she were a Goddess, too.

  You no doubt can change to a human form too, Bloodsong told the beast-woman, for Odin kept his promise to the other survivors of that battle, and you and the other beasts here survived it. But you’re learning to use that power could take time, time we will not have until after the battle. Shape-shifting was not something natural for me, Veinslicer. Only with the help of Odin, by Runes he burned into my neck, was I able to discover and use my power of transformation and, in time, learn the nature of my Orlog. After the battle I will help you and the others learn to use your powers of transformation.

  I do not think I’d care to have Runes burned into my neck, Veinsl
icer commented, but her thoughts were so clothed with emotions of excitement and hope that hot tears suddenly burned Bloodsong’s eyes.

  May I tell the others what you have said? Veinslicer asked.

  Of course! Bloodsong answered, and Veinslicer, thank you for your advice. I will do as you suggested and ride the horse-beast, in order to be my strongest for the battle with Hel.

  Veinslicer started weaving through the pack at once, telling them what Bloodsong had said, while also explaining that Bloodsong was riding the horse-beast in human form on Veinslicer’s personal advice.

  “Bloodsong,” Ulfhild said quietly, hoping that none of the beasts overheard her, “I have seen them eat nothing since awakening. Perhaps we should share our provisions with them.”

  “There’s no need,” Bloodsong assured her. “It is their way to go without eating or drinking until after winning a battle.”

  “And then?” Guthrun asked.

  “And then,” Bloodsong replied, “they feast on the flesh of the enemies they have killed.”

  * * *

  Throughout the night the purple glow ahead of them grew steadily brighter. Before dawn, Bloodsong heard a sound that she had not heard since years before in Nidhug’s cavern, a deep, rumbling moan that throbbed in time to the pulsing purple glow in the sky.

  “Huld?” Bloodsong said. “Valgerth? Jalna? Can you hear it yet?”

  “I was there, too,” Tyrulf noted, “and I can hear it. The War Skull of Hel.”

  “I had hoped never to hear it again,” Jalna said with a shudder, remembering being chained to its freezing surface as Nidhug tortured her.

  “And I,” Valgerth agreed.

  “It must be much louder than it was in the cavern,” Valgerth commented, “if we can hear it this far away.”

  “I want you all to know,” Bloodsong said, “that if any of you do not wish to enter this battle against Hel, I will think no less of you. This is something I must say, for we are not going into battle now against a sorcerer or a Witch, but against a Goddess. She is not all-powerful, or we would already have been blasted from the Earth, and She is in retreat, but it may not be because She has any reason to fear us or the awakened beasts. For all we know, She is merely pretending to retreat, in order to draw us into a trap. Valgerth, Thorfinn, you should think especially hard about turning back. You have your children with you, and—”