The Sorceress, the Norns, and the Reckoning of Asgard
For Farling and his friends—Margret, Arastead, and Grum—the race is on to defend Asgard as elves, frost giants, and dwarves desire it for whoever rules Asgard, rules all the Norse realms.
But will the Sorceress—prophecy, abomination, reckoning—help them in their quest?
Or will she destroy Asgard and all the Norse realms?
Also by the Author
The Sorceress and the Norns Trilogy
The Abomination of Asgard
The Prophecy of Asgard
The Reckoning of Asgard
Dedication
For my daughters, who inspire me always
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by James Elrick.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the author. Cover design by James Elrick, photo from shutterstock.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Published by Somerset & Elgin Press
www.somersetandelginpress.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
The Graydon Armor Stolen
Mage Spars
Elves Visit Jotunheim
Loki Visits Trondheim
The Graydon Armor Discovered
Assassins in Trondheim
Elves in Trondheim
Margret and the Assassins
Queen Astrid and the Thieves Guild
Assassins in Trondheim
Elves in Trondheim
Race to the Thieves Guild
Astrid and the Assassins
Ogre Mage Trains Astrid
Return of the Were-beasts
Loki and Yorli
King Cormac Tells a Tale
A Visit to Nidavellir
The Hammer & Anvil Pub
Jakobus Holds a Feast
The Were-beasts and Princess Margret
The Goblin Wars
The Search for the Assassins Guild
King of the Goblins
The Assassins Guild Found
A Plan is Hatched
Fight in the Assassins Guild
An Unexpected Dinner
The Paupers Temple
The School
An Argument
Beware the Free Gift
The Summoning of the Ravens
Loki and Yorli
A Surprise in Jotunheim
The Frost Giant Games
Porridge at the Paupers Temple
Loki Visits the Hive
The Milk of the Beast
A Rescue Party
Margret and Astrid
The Elf King and a Norn
Margret at the Forge
The Thieves Guild Store
Ogre Mage Fights
A Child is Born
Frederick Loses a Hand
Gunghir Sister-Spear
An Unannounced Visit
The Dwarf Princess
The Frost Giants Tricked
Strange Allies
The Birth of the Sorceress
The Vorpal Blade
A Meal at the Thieves Guild
A Visit to Asgard
Alchemist and Old Monk
The Golems Attack
Loki Reveals a Secret
The Elf Queen Plans for War
The Dwarf King Plans for War
Tea with the Goblin King
Loki Visits Yorli
Strong Tea at the Paupers Temple
Friend or Foe
The Aarlund Brothers
Tea in Trondheim
Farling and the Elf Army
A Meeting in Asgard
Galdr Explains His Plan
A Spy in the Elf Camp
Arastead Builds a Tunnel
Ogre Mage Unleashed
The Accord
Bears and Wolves
The Return of the Hunt
The Wrath of the Elves
The Whispers of a Raven
The Library of Vanaheim
The Tip of the Spear
The Golden Apple
The Attack of the Frost Giants
The Norse Realms Shudder
The Summoning of the Valkyries
Odin’s Shield Maiden
Chaos and Order
The Summoning of the Norns
The Ravens and their new Master
The Norns and the Sorceress
Epilogue
Prologue
The assassins guild apprentice hurried down the hall, balancing a tray of food and coffee. In a few moments, he found the room he was looking for and entered.
A voice spoke that was kind in nature: “Leave it on the table.”
The apprentice, trained always to obey the master of the assassins guild, did as instructed, bowed, and left the room.
The master, stooped from age, put several spoons of sugar in his coffee, stirred, and took a sip.
He said: “I always find I think better after my first cup of coffee.”
The three elder assassins in the room chuckled obligingly.
“Now,” continued the master, “what report does everyone have about our mark?”
The three elder assassins took turns speaking, none using their names, all using the same exact strange monotone so that all three voices were indistinguishable.
“This one discovered she has her own room, separate from King Frederick’s,” said the first. “It is on the third floor of Castle Trondheim. She used to have only one guard in front of her room, but, due to recent events, there are now several posted outside her door. Guards are also posted at critical junctions in the halls.”
Absentmindedly, the master sipped his coffee, bit a cookie, then brushed the crumbs off his chest. “What are her movements during the day?” he asked.
The second elder said: “This one discovered she oversees much of the castle’s operations and finances, so there are many meetings over the course of a week dedicated to that purpose. When she does leave the castle, it is always with several guards. Her favorite stores to visit are her dressmaker and cobbler.”
The master nodded. Asked: “What of the company she keeps? Is there any one of whom we need be wary?”
The third elder said: “This one reports there is an unusual camaraderie between her and several blacksmiths, the Paupers Temple priest, a princess from Aarlund, a druid from Aarlund, Trondheim thieves, and the Dennland royal family. The Aarlund princess and Queen Astrid are especially close as it appears the princess has exceptional healing abilities.”
“Does this have anything to do with the activity we detected about the Midgard Serpent and Yggdrasil?” asked the master.
“This one suspects it does as there has been a great deal of activity at Freya’s abandoned temple in the forest close to Trondheim. This one believes some Norse gods are returning and many of the Norse realms reopen. This affects the Midgard Serpent that gnaws always at the roots of Yggdrasil.”
“What realms do you talk about?” asked the master.
The same elder answered: “This one follows the whispers and rumors that mention Alfheim, Jotunheim, and Nidavellir.”
“Elves, frost giants, dwarves,” said the master as he dipped his cookie in his coffee and popped the soaked cookie in his mouth.
“This one agrees, master.”
“Only those realms, no others?”
“This one agrees, master.”
“A fascinating time to be alive.” The master’s voice lightened.
“Because of the Sorceress, it makes sense the Midgard Serpent and Yggdrasil are stronger than ever, exerting their power over the realms. Other realms awaken, as are some of the old Norse gods who lived through the Fall of Asgard. The Norns must be busy with the Tapestry. How should we assassinate the queen?”
“This one believes we summon a demon. Said demon overpowers any and all resistance resulting in the killing of the mother of the Sorceress.”
“A wise suggestion,” said the master. “Other ideas?”
“This one believes conjuring a demon to do our work for us results in failure,” said the second elder. “This one prefers poison. This one believes the mother of the Sorceress’s newest dress should be drenched in poison so that once she wears it, the poison is absorbed through her skin, killing her.”
“A wise suggestion,” said the master. “Other ideas?”
“This one believes the demon and the poison will result in failure,” said the third elder. “This one believes it should be a single assassin attack, a leap from behind the curtains with a dagger, and the mother of the Sorceress dies.”
“Another wise suggestion,” said the master. “All excellent ideas. I am very proud of you all.” The elders’ faces remained impassive, trained over the years to be unreadable masks. “But all your ideas will end in failure.” Impassive faces stared back at him. “Instead of your suggestions, we mount a full assault to kill the mother of the Sorceress,” continued the master.
“This one does not think that wise,” said the first elder. “A demon tests the defenses of the Queen. And if the demon succeeds, we succeed. And if the demon fails, no one knows it was our guild.”
“We trained for this occasion for years,” said the master. “We succeed where a demon fails.”
“This one agrees with his master,” said the second elder. The other assassins murmured their agreement.
“Good,” said the master, “because we track her movements and we wait for the moment.”
“This one believes we cannot wait too long,” said the third assassin.
“Agreed,” said the master. “We will not wait long. We attack before the next full moon.”
CHAPTER 1
The Graydon Armor Stolen
“Impossible!”
Einar, thieves guild master of the city of Trondheim, stared at a bare wooden mannequin in an empty room, his face red with anger.
Pressan, the guild’s librarian and friend of Einar, stood nearby, cleaning his glasses.
“Possible,” he said, putting on his glasses.
“Yes, I see that.” Einar’s spoke through clenched teeth. “The only problem though is that we are the thieves. We are the ones who are supposed to be doing the thieving.”
“So basically, you are just angry that there are better thieves out there than us. Or, closer to the truth, there is a better thief out there than you.”
Einar shook his head then said: “This guild is turning into a joke. We hang by a thread, our ranks decimated by that demon.”
“The Draugr.”
“Yes, you know full well that is the one. And then those elves infiltrated our guild and kidnapped the queen.”
“We prevented it.”
“Yes, but that still does not excuse the fact that once again, people infiltrated this guild.” He sighed. “And escaped.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Well, those elves did have help. Those blacksmiths and the princess have become more powerful due to their training by Ogre Mage.”
“Yes, and those blacksmiths still refuse to join this guild. Another item that irks me. Still, this guild—my guild—is now so weak that a suit of armor, one we hid for centuries, under the protection of countless guild masters, and under my watch, the Graydon suit of armor, worn by the Gray Death, simply disappeared.”
Pressan walked around the inside of the room. “It has been awhile since I have been down here,” he said.
Einar’s face softened. “You do seem to be doing remarkably well, old friend, considering you nearly died here at the hands of the Draugr,” he said.
Pressan smiled. “It was a good fight,” he said. “I just wish I could have watched the blacksmiths and the princess fight the demon.”
Pressan looked at the walls and remembered how he had blown silver dust into the face of the Draugr, which had weakened it enough so that the others had been able to destroy it. He remembered nothing more of the fight as after he had blown the silver dust, the Draugr had violently thrown him against a wall, knocking him unconscious.
Einar allowed himself a larger smile. Said: “Yes, those blacksmiths are impressive. As is the princess.”
“And let us not forget the priest from the Pauper’s Temple.”
“Yes, he was at the fight with that demon. And he found a portal to Yggdrasil.”
“Where he found a golden apple that cured Freya of her wounds.”
“He has even visited the realm of the dwarves, Nidavellir.”
“You sound jealous.”
“I am jealous, Pressan, I admit it. I used to have all the adventures.”
“Not true. You played your part in the destruction of the Heart Tree.”
Now Einar’s face lightened ever so slightly. “I did, thank you for reminding me, old friend.”
“And when the thieves guild in Pitcairn was overthrown, you helped restore it to its proper master.”
“Stop trying to make me feel better, Pressan.”
“It appears to be working.”
“Of course, it works. The simplest of compliments easily restore my vanity. It is what makes me, well, me.”
“So, back to the issue at hand. The Graydon suit of armor has been stolen right underneath our very noses.”
“And no clues are to be found.”
“None. At least none yet.”
“But who wants the Graydon Armor?”
“I tend towards the obvious on this one. I would suggest it is the elves who stole the armor.”
“It makes sense. They used to own the Graydon Armor. As well, they lost their favorite servant, Mage.”
“Perhaps they fear Mage so much they realized they need the Graydon Armor as, one day, Mage will fight them.”
“That Graydon Armor protects its wearer against wizards and so would prove useful in a fight against Mage.”
“But that still does not answer the question: How did the elves break in and steal the Graydon Armor?”
CHAPTER 2
Mage Spars
It had been Grum’s idea to steal the Graydon Armor.
“Hit him again!” yelled Farling trying to encourage Grum.
Beside Farling stood Sihr, Arastead, and Princess Margret. They were in the ruins of Freya’s temple on the outskirts of Trondheim where they watched Grum, wearing Graydon Armor, fight Mage.
It had been only a week since they had escaped Alfheim, including Mage. Everyone had been greatly relieved the blacksmiths and Princess Margret had escaped from the realm of the elves, especially Margret’s father, King Cormac of Aarlund.
But it was soon after that when Mage—the person who had trained Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Margret—had appeared in the city of Trondheim, that things became interesting.
King Frederick reluctantly accepted Mage, against his better judgment. Especially as it had been Mage who had been instrumental in the kidnapping of his wife, Queen Astrid.
Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Margret, had argued in favor of Mage. Even Frederick’s wife, who had every reason to distrust the ogre, realized he had been a slave to the elves and that his decisions had not been his own. And, once she had heard that the ogre’s wife and daughter had been killed by the elves, it had been extremely difficult for her to hold a grudge.
With Mage once again in their midst, they continued their training, picking up where they had stopped. Except this time, there were no monsters for them to battle—no giant spiders, no bugbears—and so they had taken turns sparring amongst themselves.
It w
as when Mage had suggested that Grum spar with him that Grum remembered the Graydon Armor. And so, to beat Mage, Grum enlisted the help of his friends to steal the Graydon Armor.
Arastead had created a portal rune that connected to the portal rune in the Trondheim thieves guild library. From there, Grum was able to access the room where the Graydon Armor was kept.
Luckily, Grum fit the Graydon Armor. Arastead had pointed out the armor was magic, and so would fit the person who wore it, no matter how small or large. Arastead commented how it would even fit Grum’s girth, much to Grum’s annoyance.
And so, when the training began out at Freya’s ruins, Grum approached Mage wearing the Graydon Armor.
Mage grinned large when he recognized it, and much to the delight of Grum, the Graydon Armor weakened Mage.
And so, out by Freya’s temple on the outskirts of Trondheim, Grum fought Mage.
“Grum, you are doing well,” said Mage shifting to avoid a strike. “And you claim this is the first time you have worn full armor during a fight. I am impressed.”
“I am sweating like a pig!” yelled Grum swinging his sword, which Mage easily blocked with an arm bracer.
After a few more minutes of practice fighting, Grum collapsed to his knees, holding one hand up in an admission of defeat. With his other hand, he removed his helmet. Sweat poured down his face.
“Enough!” he gasped. “I did not think it possible, but my own sweat defeats me.”
“Fighting in a suit of armor takes getting used to,” said Mage. “You did well.”
Grum pleaded: “Water, please.”
Arastead nudged Farling. Said: “You had better give him some water. I still cannot get too close to the Graydon Armor without feeling ill. Even from this distance, it makes my ears ring unnaturally.”
“Of course,” said Farling as he grabbed a skin of water and brought it to Grum. “A fine match, Grum,” he said. “I expect this fight made you hungrier than ever.”
“Once I quench my thirst, I will need food,” agreed Grum “After we return the Graydon Armor to the thieves guild, what say we rustle up some food at the thieves guild?”
“What?” blurted Farling. “You think we can just waltz in there with the armor tucked under one arm?”
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