As Sihr entered the kitchen, seated around the table were four young men. But what he found strange about them were their looks: one had wolf-like features, another a bear, the third a cat, and the last he was certain had rat-like features.
Rickters acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “Welcome back, Master Sihr,” he said. “We have guests this morning. Very hungry and thirsty I might add, so I have made extra porridge and tea. I was not too sure when to expect you, so I made sure I would have food and drink to break your fast.”
“My thanks, Rickters,” said Sihr as he leaned his staff against the wall.
“Oh, where are my manners,” said Rickters. “The names of these boys are—”
“—Liulfr, Beornheard, Kees, and Asbjorn,” said Sihr. “And yes, a bowl of porridge would be delightful as would a cup of strong tea. My thanks, Rickters.”
Liulfr cleared his throat. “Apologies, priest, for arriving unexpected at your temple,” he said.
“No apologies necessary as all are welcome at this temple. We do not discriminate, even against people who wronged us in the past.”
“We are trying to make amends,” said Liulfr as way of an explanation.
“Yes, I understand you are, as you are all reverting back to normal human form and are slowly losing your beast-like abilities. Your sudden turn to kindness would not have anything to do with the possibility of fresh potions, which would return all of you to your full were-beast strength?”
“I must admit,” said Liulfr, “that you are correct to a certain degree. In exchange for fresh were-beast potions, we would find the assassins guild. And that we thought, that would be the end of it. But certain recent events have made us all change our minds. Especially the bravery and kindness of Princess Margret.”
“What of the princess?” blurted Sihr suddenly interested.
Liulfr look ashamed. “During our fight at the assassins guild last night, it was the princess who ensured our escape,” he said.
Sihr’s voiced raised in disbelief. “You mean to say Princess Margret is held captive by the assassins?” he demanded.
The were-beasts nodded. “We fear it is so,” said Liulfr. “We agreed beforehand if anyone was captured, at least one person was to escape to tell others of the location of the guild.”
Sihr gritted his teeth. “The princess of Aarlund, held prisoner by the assassins guild. Why do we waste our time here!”
He gobbled some porridge and drank deeply of the tea. “Rickters,” he said as he grabbed his staff, “if you could be so kind as to continue looking after the Paupers Temple while I am gone with the were-beasts.”
“Of course, Master Sihr,” he replied. “Where will you be?”
“Where I always go when I need help,” he answered with a wink. “To the Hive to visit a certain forge.”
CHAPTER 30
The School
“The School?” demanded Grum as Liulfr finished telling his story. “Impossible!”
To which Sihr simply replied: “Nothing is impossible.”
But Grum was listening. Too animated by the news, he paced back and forth.
“Remember Reinhardt,” started Sihr, “he was a senior member of the High Council. And he was an agent of the elves. He harbored that demon, the Draugr, which was supposed to sow chaos and confusion while the Alfheim Gateway opened. The elves would have poured through that gateway and would have laid waste to Dennland and Aarlund like a spark to dry tinder, the fire would have consumed all. No one suspected Reinhardt. The situation at the School is much the same: Someone there turned to the side of the elves. It could be one person, it could be many. This Black Hand has its fingers in many pies. They also had a spy inside the thieves guild. Even the thieves could not discover a spy in their midst: What chance the School?”
“You do not understand,” blurted Grum. “The School is where I learned all my fighting skills. I could have been taught by assassins. This is not right!”
“It could be as simple as the assassins all work in the kitchen,” said Sihr.
Arastead interjected: “Grum, stop pacing. You make me nervous.”
“I cannot help myself,” said Grum. “When I am nervous, I usually hammer something in the forge. But we do not have time for that right now and so I pace.”
Farling said: “A shame Margret is not here. With her gone, I realize how much I rely on her leadership. So, the question then is: Do we try and secretively find out who the assassins are in the School? Or do we attack by full frontal assault? I know which one you choose, Grum.”
Grum growled: “By Odin’s blood, I wish I had my hammer and my gloves of strength. Then I would fight.”
Liulfr said: “If it comes to a vote, then I am sure we would prefer the full-frontal assault choice.” The other were-beasts nodded.
Sihr shook his head. “I would prefer subtlety, but the assassins may not be expecting an attack.”
Liulfr said: “And if you want our help, then we need to be at full fighting strength. We upheld our end of the bargain: The assassins guild was found. We now desire potions that will return us to our full were-beast bodies.”
Grum shook his head. “We do not need their help. We can attack the guild on our own.”
Now Sihr shook his head. “No, Grum, in this case, we should accept the were-beasts help,” he said. “They do feel bad about leaving Princess Margret behind, that feeling is genuine. In any other situation, I would question their motives, but not their desire to rescue the princess.”
“Good,” said Liulfr, as Kees and Asbjorn punched each other lightly in the shoulders in excitement.
Farling sighed. “I hope Margret is fine and that the assassins have not harmed her in anyway,” he said.
CHAPTER 31
An Argument
Margret realized she was not fine.
She had thought at first that the assassins would simply use her as a bargaining chip, as ransom, something to hold against her father and the king of Dennland.
But after waking in the morning, she realized the assassins wanted something else from her, something much more.
Defiance rang in Margret’s words as she spoke to the old assassin in her room: “I will not give you any information that will lead to the capture of Queen Astrid,” she said.
The old assassin said: “The queen is more powerful than we expected. Nowhere was it written that the mother of the Sorceress would gain magical powers while she carried the Sorceress child. She took my assassins by surprise and they were my finest. My assassins are trained to fight in any situation, but the fight against a powerful sorceress like the queen was unexpected. They tried their best and their best was simply not good enough.”
And here, he shrugged, seemingly unworried at the loss of his best assassins. Then: “A good assassin is ready for any situation, able to take what is given to him or her and use it to his or her advantage. But the situation with the queen was beyond anything any of my assassins had ever trained for, had ever experienced.”
Margret scoffed. “I heard your assassins cried like babies when they realized they were outmatched by the Queen,” she said.
The master chuckled. “I expected better from you than simple jibes. Perhaps I have overestimated your abilities.”
“Your assassins are weak.” Margret spat on the ground. “Many died fighting a few elves, more died fighting an inexperienced sorceress. Ogre Mage now trains her. She gains skills and abilities by the minute, by the hour. The next time you throw your assassins against her, you had better empty your guild for she will strip the flesh from their bodies and bleach their bones white.”
The master looked bored. “You are correct in many ways, princess. My assassins are experts at killing fat merchants, at slaying a baron while he sleeps in a room guarded by a hundred knights, and at murdering a sailor far out at sea.”
“Then you are helpless.”
“Not quite. I realized my assassins are not up to the task. But you are.”
“I am no assassin.”
“Correction: You are no assassin—yet.”
CHAPTER 32
Beware the Free Gift
Mage said: “Nas is not to be found. And when he is found, he will not be at all pleased with his ward. She should have contacted him before she went on such a dangerous mission.”
The four were-beasts, Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Sihr were all crammed into Mage’s room in the Paupers Temple. His oversized bed was in one corner, while his desk and alchemy kit were in the other. Books, papers, and scrolls were strewn all over his room; some on shelves, some tacked to the wall, while most were on the floor. Bottles were connected oddly with tubes while small flames burned under some bottles. This caused the contents to boil, while the steam then moved through the tubes to a different bottle.
Sihr, mesmerized as he watched the steam travel through the tubes, asked: “Do you know where the druid is?”
Mage shook his head. “We were to meet yesterday, but he never showed,” he said. “However, we did get the were-beast potions started. It will take now just a couple days for them to be completed.”
Kees growled in his throat.
“Easy, brother,” said Liulfr. “Our father, Alchemist, often took many days, sometimes weeks, to brew potions. This ogre and his druid friend are not even as experienced as father, so we should commend them for their efforts.”
“So it is agreed,” said Mage. “Return here in two days and I will give you your potions.”
“Agreed,” said Liulfr, and without a handshake or a good-bye, the were-beasts left Mage’s room.
Once the were-beasts were well out of the Paupers Temple, and out of earshot, Mage turned to Arastead. “The ring you wear screams magic,” he said. “It wails so loudly it pains my ears.”
Arastead grinned. “A gift from the dwarf realm,” he said.
Mage looked pained. “Beware free gifts from dwarves, those types of gifts always come with a cost. You will either owe the dwarves a favor, or the toll on your body when you wield the ring’s magic will be so great as to tear at the fabric of your being.”
“I have already wielded its magic,” said Arastead as he described what he had done.
Mage nodded. “A fine use of blending the two magics. But again, I warn you: Beware the dwarves. A gift given freely is often not a gift. It is as you say in Midgard: There are strings attached. One of those many strings will soon be pulling at you and at the other end will be the dwarf king.”
“He has no ownership of me,” was Arastead’s reply.
Mage wagged a finger. “But he does over the ring,” he said. “If Jakobus foresees a battle between you and the Sorceress, he may tip his hand. It is what you may have to give up in battle that I worry about.”
Grum reached up and clapped a hand on Mage’s shoulder. “Do not worry, Mage, we will keep Arastead from trouble,” he said.
Mage just replied: “I know you will, but I worry it will not be enough.”
CHAPTER 33
The Summoning of the Ravens
Farling, Arastead, and Grum stood in Freya’s empty temple in the forest outside Trondheim. To get there, they had used the secret passage from the basement of the Paupers Temple. Sihr stayed behind as he had to catch up on his regular duties.
Farling asked: “Arastead, are you comfortable summoning the great ravens?”
“I think so,” he replied. “Did we bring enough food?”
“We brought enough for Grum and for the ravens,” said Farling. “I think it enough.”
“Good, then I will summon the great ravens,” said Arastead. From one of his pockets, he produced a small whistle. “This whistle calls across all Norse realms. No matter where the ravens are, they will heed the call.”
Minutes passed after Arastead sounded the whistle when the two great ravens appeared and gracefully landed in front of him.
Arastead bowed low as did Farling and Grum. The ravens in turn nodded their heads as part of the formal greeting.
“Welcome Hugin and Munin,” said Arastead. “I offer you food as thanks for answering my summons.”
“You truly are a more powerful…” started one of the ravens.
“…wizard than last we met,” finished the other.
“The dwarf magic and your familiar…”
“…along with your natural abilities…”
“…greatly augment your magic.”
“We see too that you draw from…”
“…both order and chaos.”
“What need do you have of…”
“…my brother and I?”
Arastead said: “O great ravens, I would like to send a message to Thrymr, king of the frost giants.”
“Thrymr bides…”
“…in Jotunheim.”
Arastead nodded. “We would like to challenge the frost giants to a contest of wits and strength,” he said.
The ravens looked at each other and nodded.
“My brother flies to Jotunheim…”
“…while I stay here.”
A raven, Hugin or Munin, Farling was not sure as he could not tell the difference, lifted off into the sky, and in a few moments disappeared.
After a few minutes, the raven who had remained spoke and it was if the ravens were having a conversation: One in Jotunheim, one in Midgard.
Arastead said: “The Heroes of Midgard challenge the frost giants to a contest.”
The raven responded with a question, which must have been asked by a frost giant: “Will it be the typical contests of speed, strength, thirst, and hunger?”
The raven in Midgard looked to Arastead for direction.
Arastead nodded.
The raven said to his brother: “We agree.”
“So, we meet on the morrow,” said Arastead.
The raven in Midgard nodded. “It is done,” he said. “My brother returns.”
And in a few moments the other raven returned, landed, and began devouring the food. Once the food was gone, the two ravens looked to Arastead, who said: “I thank you Hugin and Munin. You have my gratitude.”
Arastead bowed low to the ravens, who nodded their heads in return.
The ravens spread their wings and with no apparent effort lifted off into the sky and quickly became specks in the distance.
CHAPTER 34
Loki and Yorli
Loki asked: “Is your father ready to meet me?”
“Did you bring presents?” replied Yorli.
Loki smiled and showed her the enchanted weapons he had stolen. She ran her fingers over Flamebringer, the shield, the gloves and belt of strength, and lastly the war hammer.
“They seem so small,” she said, “yet they cause us frost giants so much trouble. When the dwarves wielded these, they stopped our every advance. That is the problem with magic: it levels the field.”
Loki smiled broadly. “So, will your father be pleased to see me?”
“I think, after all this time, he still will not be pleased to see you. But I think, this time, he will at least tolerate you.”
“There are many people who tolerate me. I find it now to be a sign of affection. You at least do more than just tolerate me.”
“Do not be too pleased with yourself, Trickster.” She smiled. “There are still many things about you I tolerate but there are also many things about you I enjoy.”
“Well, at least I am making progress.”
“Yes, and now it is time for you to make progress with my father and brothers.”
Loki sighed deeply.
“Do not tell me, Trickster, you are nervous about meeting my father?”
“Yorli, if you cannot tell by now, I am so deeply besotted with you that I worry it may go away.”
“Loki, my love, if you cannot tell by now, if my father does not approve of you, then perhaps it is time we do not care what my father says.”
“That is a change of heart.”
“That is my heart you have changed.”
“Good,
because for a moment there I was worried you wanted me to kill your father.”
Yorli laughed and her laughter was as music to Loki’s ears.
“Do not be silly, my love. You cannot kill my father, and I would never ask you. My brothers, though, on the other hand…”
Loki now chuckled. “They are quite the simpletons, young boys really, who will never grow up.”
“Which is why my father must approve of you, as one day, I will rule Jotunheim.”
“And I, I will rule by your side.”
“And then one day, we will rule Asgard.”
“Now you are thinking like me.”
And Loki kissed Yorli and she returned his affection.
CHAPTER 35
A Surprise in Jotunheim
King Thrymr’s ice castle sparkled in the sunshine.
Loki was always surprised the castle was never affected by the warmth of the sun’s rays then remembered that the ice of the great castle was bound by runes of magic and so was impervious to the sun.
Inside, Thrymr sat his throne, looking as fierce as ever. At the bottom of the dais stood both his sons, who were both garbed for battle, which Loki found disconcerting.
“King Thrymr,” began Loki, “you look well. I bear gifts for the opening of your realm.” He arrayed the enchanted weapons on the floor in such a manner so that they could be easily grabbed by Thrymr and his sons.
But Thrymr did not speak.
Loki shifted nervously from foot to foot and cast a timid glance at Yorli. She gave the most imperceptible nod to indicate everything would be fine.
But Loki was not one for awkward silences. Then: “King Thrymr, you may recognize these weapons as the bane of the frost giants.”
As Loki mentioned each weapon’s name, he held them up, hoping the sunlight would cast them in a more favorable light.
The Reckoning of Asgard Page 13
