Empty Altars

by Judith Post

  "Griswold lost three elders," Tyr said. "And Jon isn't doing well. If Jorunda is Griswold's right-hand man, Jon would be his left. When Griswold dismissed everyone else, he and Jon stayed in the hall, talking."

  Diana liked everything she'd seen about Jon so far. She shifted her gaze to the ground, aggravated that Heid always caught her by surprise.

  "She's been planning this for a long time," Tyr said in that way he had of reading her thoughts before she expressed them.

  "We got lucky," Diana mumbled, half lost in thought. "If the gardens hadn’t had the herbs and roots that might prove useful…" Her voice trailed off.

  He put an arm around her shoulders. "How could you guess? One thing after another's been thrown at you since you got here. You don't know our world, our customs…" He looked up to see Griswold weaving toward them. Helga trailed in his wake, wringing her hands.

  The chieftain's face was contorted with anger. His eyes burned. His hands were clenched into fists. When he neared Diana, he lifted his finger to point. "You!" he seethed. "You witch! You made us take wafers and poisoned us all!"

  Tyr's posture went ramrod straight. "Hold your tongue, chieftain."

  "The gods mock us!" Griswold cried. "They laugh at our misery! My wife died at my side. Jon took her from my bed. You've brought the Roman here to toy with us. She pretends to be a friend and weakens us at each and every turn."

  Freya sprang to her feet. Hands on hips, she glared at the chieftain. "Like when she saved you from the hellhounds or the giants?"

  "Send her away!" Griswold yelled. "Send her back to her own world! Dear gods, protectors, take your mortals back to your bosoms."

  His words were cut off. Tyr lifted him off the ground and dangled him in the air. "You embarrass me with your ignorance. If Diana wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. And if she had no stomach to murder you, she could ask me. I'd gladly do it."

  "He's fevered," Helga cried. "His dreams and nightmares control him. He's not himself."

  Tyr stared into the chieftain's eyes. "Sadly, he's as sane as he ever gets."

  Helga rushed forward, throwing herself at Tyr's feet. "Please, great and mighty god. He doesn’t know what he says. The disease addles him."

  "This isn't the time," Diana told Tyr in a low voice. "We have enough worries at the moment."

  Tyr thumped Griswold to the ground. Helga jumped to support him, but the chieftain pushed her away. "You filthy, hideous bitch! Get out of my sight! Your face turns my stomach."

  Helga staggered as though struck. She took a few steps backwards. "My lord…"

  "Leave me!" he roared. "You're like holding a bag of shriveled carrots—all angles and points. Be gone!"

  The girl turned and ran. Tyr took a deep breath. Between gritted teeth, he snarled, "You just sent the one person who championed you away, so return to your longhouse alone. I have no desire to touch you or lend you an arm."

  "Jorunda!" Griswold turned in a circle, almost falling. "Where's my damned warrior?"

  "Sick with your disease, as are the others."

  "Jon!"

  "Fighting for his life," Tyr said between his teeth. "Now go."

  Griswold staggered as he turned. He took a few steps, then swayed. No one moved to help him. He looked back toward Inga. "Come, girl. Assist me."

  "She's no longer yours to command," Freya said. "You shunned her, remember? Crawl to your bedchamber if you must."

  Red dots of anger spotted Griswold's cheeks. "Someone help me!"

  Not one of them moved.

  Slowly, painfully, Griswold returned to his longhouse.

  When he was out of sight, Diana said, "The disease had to be administered. Someone poured it into his drink. There's an empty bottle or jar somewhere."

  Tyr thought a minute. "Whoever did this would be absent now. To stay would expose him to the disease."

  "We can seal the village gates," Freya said. "When he returns, we can catch him."

  "If he returns." Tyr looked to the high walk that circled the wooden fence. No guards on duty patrolled it, but they'd heal soon. "I'll have a word with them."

  Freya waited until Tyr was out of earshot. "Too bad Jorunda found Griswold so soon. How much longer would it have taken before the chieftain was dead?"

  Diana waved her comment away and started for the longhouse. "Unfortunately, Griswold is destined to survive. Remember?"

  "Hey! What are you doing?" Freya demanded, watching her go.

  "I want to find that container." The idea of going through garbage wasn't appealing, but Diana wanted to see the receptacle that held the poison. Her search didn't take long. She found two, small, tin tubes buried under cabbage leaves in the kitchen.

  "Two?" Tyr asked, coming to stand behind her.

  Diana sniffed them. "One's the disease. The other's the cure."

  "The cure?"

  Diana nodded. "Heid's clever. If her traitor didn't grow ill, he'd look suspicious. But if he took the antidote the minute his fever started, he'd recover quickly."

  "So our traitor's still here, even though the shapeshifter died."

  "The wolf was minor to Heid's plans," Diana said. "But someone in the village is well connected to her. This vial means she's taking great pains not to have him discovered."

  Tyr began to pace the cavernous kitchen. "So nothing's changed. The runes' prophesy still stands. We didn't kill the traitor, and he didn't leave to survive the disease."

  "I'm afraid so." Diana began to gather her things. "The warriors' strength won't return for a few more hours. Inga should stay to care for them. The village would be easy to attack now. Would you like Freya and me to stay here too?"

  "No." Tyr turned toward the door. "I don't want everyone in one place if Heid comes for us."

  Smart strategy, but Diana didn't like leaving him alone to protect the village. She pulled her pouch of runes from her jeans pocket and rummaged through them. She brought out a bone with no letter of the alphabet on it, a blank. She handed it to him.

  "What is it?" Tyr turned it over, and when he turned it again, the image of a peacock appeared engraved in the bone.

  "A toe from Argus, the Greek watchman with 100 eyes."

  Tyr frowned. "If I'm holding his toe, he must have fallen asleep on the job."

  "That's another story." Diana grinned. "But the point is, this will enable me to always watch over you. All you have to do is think my name and rub the bone, and I'll come."

  Tyr's expression turned solemn. "You offer too much."

  "For you, I'd do much more." And she realized, she meant it. Somehow, some way, this Norse god had become too dear to her.

  He reached for her, lowering his head to kiss her lips, when Helga burst into the room. The plain girl saw them and blushed bright red. "Oh lord!" She turned to flee, but Tyr stopped her. "I'm sure we're in your way. We were about to leave."

  "My mistress sent me to start soup…I'm to fetch a bone for broth…." She stammered to a stop, adjusting her shift to cover her nonexistent figure. "I'm to take Vigdis' place in the kitchen—a great honor. If I leave, Hlif will have my hide. Great Woden, I'm sorry."

  "Soup will help the warriors rebuild their strength. We have things to do too." Tyr took Diana's hand and led her away. His footsteps slowed outside, and he looked for a place to duck from curious eyes. Too late. Freya saw them and hurried toward them, a smile on her lips. "Olaf's agreed to make more talismans. Soon, we'll have one for each warrior. It won't protect them from disease, but it will save them from black magic. He had a few extra to get us started." In triumph, she held up chains bearing cat pendants.

  Tyr glanced at Diana. "Some other time?"

  "Is that a promise?"

  Freya's jaw dropped in surprise. "You two? Now?"

  "Not anymore," Tyr growled. "Let's go to the meadow."

  “Inga?” Freya asked.

  “Can stay here to care for the warriors.”

  Chapter 21

  Diana insisted upon making the giants and witches drink her
powder mix. She even poured some into a bowl for the young wolves. Satisfied that she'd done all she could for the moment, she started to return home.

  A vulture swooped from the sky and landed before Tyr. Diana eyed it with suspicion. "Mars' bird?"

  "Not here," Ormr warned. "Vultures belong to Heid."

  It held an envelope in its beak.

  Tyr took the message and read it through. When he finished, he read it more slowly. Then he looked up, frowning. "Heid wishes to meet with us. She'll come, alone, to Griswold's longhouse, if I guarantee to honor a truce."

  Freya grimaced. "She knows you can't lie. Once you make an oath, you can't break it. You're the sky god, ruler of wisdom and honesty. We all look to you for that."

  Tyr gave a wry smile. "I'm sure Heid took that into consideration."

  "You can't lie?" That thought stopped Diana a second. Was subterfuge the same as a lie? Her fellow Greek gods and goddesses were well known for bending and distorting the truth.

  Tyr ignored the question. Clearly, he didn't want to deal with it. He glanced at the message again. "Can it hurt anything to meet with her?"

  "You can never trust Heid," Asdis cautioned.

  "But if there's a way to end this war…." He looked to the heavens, weighing the pros and cons of the request.

  Freya fidgeted, uncomfortable. She went to stand beside Diana and touched a hand to the pouch of runes Diana made for her. "We've made it hard for Heid. We've surprised her as much as she has us. She intended to destroy the village with disease. Diana changed that. She knows you're the god of law and judgments. If she's afraid of defeat and would like to end this, you're the god to talk to, not me."

  Diana glanced at her, frowning. “Do you usually arbitrate for witches?”

  Before Freya could answer, Ormr said, "Don't do it. This is a trick. Heid doesn't give up. She hunted us down wherever we hid."

  "But she's never had to worry about being destroyed before, has she?" Tyr stared at the message once more, trying to read more into it than simply ink on paper. "We killed her three times, and each time, she rose. But if Diana kills her with magic, she might stay dead."

  "Heid's not a full god," Freya agreed, clearly warming to the idea. "Her powers aren't as strong as ours, and her magic can't match Diana's. She thought, with her coven, she might be able to defeat us, but she's lost three of her witches. If she fails, she might die--permanently. She might be ready to strike a deal."

  Asdis disagreed. "If Heid's backed into a corner, she's more dangerous, not less. Don't trust her."

  "No one does," Tyr said, "but do we really want to turn this down, a chance for peace?"

  Diana chewed her bottom lip, nervous. There was no such thing as an honorable, dark witch. But there were plenty of smart ones. And maybe, in the long run, a truce would suit Heid more than a war. "If you're going to do this, I'd meet some place outside of the village," she said.

  Tyr nodded. "There's a temple not far away—a longhouse with altars."

  "So you are worshipped?"

  "In the meadow. It would make a good meeting spot. Heid suggested tomorrow at noon."

  "If I protect the building from dark magic, Heid can't enter it," Diana said.

  "That's why I'm going alone." Tyr's tone was meant to brook no argument. He should have known better.

  "No." Diana was surprised by the passion behind the one word.

  So was Tyr. "I can protect myself against Heid. I've done it before."

  "Things have changed. You said so yourself. We need you, and I don't want to bargain to get you back if Heid has some new trick." Freya watched their exchange, lost in her own thoughts, until Diana turned on her. "Tell him!" she said. "Make him understand."

  "Diana's right." Freya raised her hand when Tyr began to protest. "This isn't the Heid we’ve known and sparred with. We're going with you."

  "Not you." This time, Tyr's words sounded final. "You know how you get every time you're around her."

  "It's Donar’s fault the war started!" Freya said.

  "He wasn’t alone. No one in Asgaard liked her, but it wasn't my idea to burn Heid on the pyre, not even one of the three times."

  "Then the Aesir should have sought your counsel, but Donar doesn’t listen to anyone. If the Aesir gods had left her alone, I could have dealt with her."

  "She was already too dark. You know that, but it wasn’t your fault she used the magic you taught her for evil.”

  “What!” Diana turned to Freya. “You fussed at me because I didn’t tell you that I helped dragons, but you forgot to mention that you trained Heid?”

  Freya had the grace to look sheepish. She licked her lips. “It’s not something I’m proud of.”

  “Why not? You didn’t teach her black magic. She had to seek it out.”

  Freya grimaced. “She chose witch magic over seidr. She completely turned against everything I taught her. But when she went bad, the Aesir should have called me instead of killing her three times.”

  Tyr sighed. “We fought a long time over Heid before we called truce."

  Diana shook her head. "Boy, I really didn’t see the big picture, did I? That's what started the war between the Aesir and Vanir?"

  Freya nodded. "Heid was my responsibility."

  "You’ve joined us in Asgaard now," Tyr said, trying to reason with her. “We’re friends. She’s our responsibility.”

  "She hates Asgaard for good reason."

  “Freya, she’d hate us anyway. She’s wicked. She corrupted mortals, filled them with greed and resentment. She breeds her hellish hounds in the Ironwood Forest.”

  “Where the gods banished her,” Freya persisted.

  Tyr threw up his hand. "What would you have us do with her? She’s evil. I can't reverse what happened, but I can try to control her now, so that she can't harm anyone else."

  With visible effort, Freya sought to calm herself. “I know. I don’t blame you. I’ve never blamed you.”

  "You're not coming with me," Tyr repeated. "Mixing you and Heid together is like shaking a Molotov cocktail."

  "I do have some self control," Freya fumed.

  "Not when it comes to Heid.” Before she could argue, Tyr hurried on. “Besides, we need you at the village, in case this is a diversion, a trick to draw us out, so that Heid can attack while we're gone. The warriors will still be weak. She can use that.”

  "My thoughts exactly," Diana said.

  Tyr turned his gaze on her. "Good, because you're staying with her."

  "Wrong. I'm going, too." Norse gods obviously were used to getting their way. It was time they learned better.

  "Heid won't talk to us if you're there," Tyr stated.

  "Then find a place for me to hide, because I'm going with you. I'm your best chance of surviving if she uses magic against you."

  “I’ve dealt with her magic before.”

  “And her coven’s?”

  “It’s broken. You killed three of them.”

  Diana tilted her chin, challenging him. “So you can face Heid and nine of her followers all by yourself?”

  “No.” Tyr didn't like it, Diana could tell by his expression, but he wasn't petty enough to make a point just to make one. "All right, but you can't be seen."

  "No problem." Diana muttered words and disappeared from view. When she spoke directly behind Freya, the goddess jumped. "Heid seems fond of obscuring spells, but she doesn't have any as good as mine."

  “Don’t do that! It’s creepy.” Freya rubbed her arms.

  Diana returned to her natural form.

  "We can go with you too," Ormr offered. "In case Heid brings giants."

  Tyr shook his head. "No, the village needs you. Peta will be on alert. Between Freya, you, and Asdis, it will be hard for any enemies to pass the clearing or the rowan. I'm putting Heimdall on alert at the rainbow bridge too. I'm not taking any chances."

  Their plans made, Tyr left to return to the village, and Diana and Freya started back through the woods to their home. The walk
got tiresome sometimes, but Diana liked the feeling of distance between their sanctuary and the troubles of the meadow.

  Freya fussed on the way back. "It was Donar’s idea to kill Heid. Tyr should have muzzled him centuries ago."

  Diana threw an arm around Freya’s shoulder. "Friend, you tried to do someone a good deed, and it backfired on you. Heid was too greedy to not to be tempted. Dark magic can be alluring."

  Freya was silent a minute, digesting that. "You won’t know this, but she was once a handmaiden to Frigga, Odin’s wife. Frigga’s home is on a marsh, so all marshes and boggy grounds are sacred to her. That’s why Heid sacrificed those young girls in a bog, as an insult to her."

  Diana stopped, appalled. “Did she despise Frigga so much?”

  “Frigga is nothing but kindness, but as Odin’s wife, Heid would be jealous of her, of her power and prestige. Maybe….” She grimaced. "Who knows why she made the choices she did? We'll never know for sure, will we?"

  "What kind of deal do you think Heid will offer Tyr tomorrow?"

  Freya's answer was immediate. "A division of lands. Heid's greedy. She'll want part of Midgard and its treasures in exchange for peace."

  "The meadow would stay safe, wouldn't it?"

  "No god wants Heid anywhere close to the rainbow bridge."

  They threw ideas around for the rest of their walk. When they reached the clearing, both stared in silence. The dragon, Peta, stretched under the roof of the open, east porch. Noir lay, stretched between his ears. Freya's cat curled between two scales on his back.

  "I wish I had a camera," Diana mumbled.

  "A what?" Freya smiled. "Isn't that sweet? I would never have thought cats would befriend a dragon."

  Peta opened a large, yellow eye. He struggled to shake himself awake, but couldn't. Soon, he breathed evenly, in a deep slumber again.

  "The poor creature probably hasn't had good sleep since Heid chained him in that cave to torment his wife and children," Freya said. "He must be exhausted."

  The women walked past him into the house.

  "Zeus, I'm beat. We've had our share of excitement today, too." Diana reached for a round loaf of bread. "After our meal, I'm calling it an early night."