Empty Altars
Page 19
They walked in silence. The path was wide, surrounded by grasses. Diana could barely make out trees in the far distance before the haze swallowed everything. They walked for a long time before the sun burned off most of the mist. The landscape became open and wild—a perfect spot for a meeting. Enemies could be seen miles away—unless, like her, they hid behind obscuring spells. The sun rose higher, and Tyr's scent wafted to her. She inhaled deeply. The musk of male addled her mind.
It was a fair distance before she saw the wooden temple. It looked simple enough. The Norse didn't go in much for embellishments. Its one concession as a shrine were two double doors in its center and a thick, golden chain that hung from its gables. A grove of trees sat at one side of it. A massive tree with huge, overhanging branches grew close by, near a spring. A vulture sat on one of its branches, watching them. Heid's bird. Diana was glad she'd taken the precaution of an obscuring spell. As they approached the longhouse, Diana wrinkled her nose. A stench permeated the entire area. Then she noticed the corpses that hung from the trees' branches in the grove. Horses hung from one, dogs from another, and men from a third. There were nine trees in all, with nine different offerings.
"Disturbing," she whispered.
Tyr grunted and looked forward, so that the warriors wouldn't see his lips move. "Sacrifices. Once every nine years. Man's version of religion. They believe gods crave blood."
She couldn't be condescending. Hadn't Agamemnon, aware that he'd angered her, offered to kill his daughter so that the winds would change to take his army to Troy? Not that she had any need for a young girl's blood, but mortals seemed drawn to the idea.
Tyr stopped to study his surroundings. He took his time. If any of Heid's witches or hellhounds were using an obscuring spell, he meant to see them. Nothing moved. No grasses shimmered. He nodded, more sure of himself, and approached the temple.
"Let's go inside," he told the others. "Donar will join us. He'll keep watch over the grove and meadow." As he stepped through the doors, he whispered for Diana's ears only, "Would you feel Heid if she came before us?"
"Yes, she's not here."
Three priests came forward, but Tyr dismissed them. "It would be best if you leave for a while."
They looked at Tyr and the warriors who accompanied him. With quick nods, they departed.
True to his word, the moment the last warrior stepped inside the building, Donar appeared. He swung his hammer back and forth, impatient as usual. "Did you see anything on your walk?"
"No, I don't think she's come yet."
"I'll keep watch. When she arrives, I'll join you."
Diana was pleased. Donar glanced over her, unable to see her. She didn't expect the warriors to. They didn't think of someone blending so well, but Donar was a god. It would be harder to trick him in close quarters. She'd succeeded.
Tyr nodded that Donar was free to go. The warriors went to the far side of the temple and took their places, hands on swords. Tyr stood before the wooden carving of Woden, waiting. Diana looked around. Three piles of stones held three statues. Donar's likeness, holding a mace, sat on the highest pile in the center. Freyr, carved as a huge, erect penis sat on an altar to one side of him, and Woden, in armor, sat on the opposite end.
Diana frowned. The Norse had a real thing about fertility. All primitive cultures did. It was a matter of survival. She had to give Freya credit, though. As goddess of love and beauty, she was much more subtle than her brother. A huge penis? What did that say about the god? She looked for a good place to hide. She wanted to have her back against a wall, fully blended, before Heid arrived. She gave Tyr's hand a gentle squeeze, then pulled free of him. She went to a side wall and planted herself so that she was equal distance between the warriors and the god.
And then they waited. When the sun was directly above them, a sudden gust of wind whooshed through the room, and Heid appeared before them. She'd obviously followed magic here. It was so seamless, it made Diana believe she'd traveled to the temple earlier and left a token to guide her here and back.
"Mighty Tyr, I thank you for meeting me." The dark witch straightened herself to her full height. She stood nearly six feet with a slender figure. Blue-black hair fell in a shiny cascade to her waist. Dark eyes flashed in a lean, chiseled face. Heid exuded fierceness and power. She looked at the warriors at the far end of the room, and her lips curled in a smile of derision. "Ahh, a display of might. I'm flattered." When Donar entered the room, she frowned. "And brainless brawn. I'm afraid now." She didn't sound afraid. She clearly was more cautious of Tyr than the thunder god.
"No one need fear, since we're only here to talk. I gave you my word," Tyr stated. "What have you to say?"
"I only ask for what, in all rights, should already be mine. I ask for a division of lands. My share of Midgard."
"We own no lands," Tyr said. "We protect them and the mortals who dwell there."
Heid smirked. "Semantics. A lawyer's weapon of choice."
"I'm merely stating the obvious. The Aesir and Vanir still perform our duties."
"Then you're foolish. Why bother with something of no value to you?"
"It's our purpose. From the time Woden and his brothers created the first man and woman, it's what we were bound to do."
"Why? Mortals add nothing to your existence. They show no respect, no fear. They bow to whatever god suits them at the moment. And you still care? Spare yourself the bother. Be rid of them. Cut them loose."
"So that you can torment them?"
She barked a mirthless laugh. "It's no better than they deserve. They'll at least bring me joy. Do they you?"
"They're our responsibility, not our pleasure."
She threw her hands in the air. "Listen to you! You're a god! You could force mortals to bow before you, to serve you. Instead, you serve them?"
Tyr raised a brow. "This argument will get us nowhere. Do you have something else to discuss?"
"How much are these mortals worth to you? How much will you suffer for them?"
"We've already suffered a great deal. You know that."
"But are you willing to risk war for them? There's no need. Give me Sverige, and I'll leave all other mortals alone."
"No."
"It's only fair!" Heid raised an arm to shake her fist at him. "You owe me that! I'd still be your friend, living among you, if the Aesir hadn't tried to kill me three times!"
"You turned to black magic." Tyr leveled a searching look at her. “Freya shared her talents with you, and you perverted them.”
Heid threw back her head and laughed. “Because I wanted gold? Or because I was only a minor goddess, daughter of the giant Hrimnir, so I was never good enough for you?”
Tyr blinked. “I judge goodness by a person’s actions, not their birthright.”
“But no one’s as good as you are, are they, sky god? Some of us have loftier ambitions than to serve.”
"You could have gone to the Vanir, told them what happened, and they would have taken you in. But you knew they wouldn't tolerate you and your greed either. It was your choice to scheme and plot to get what you wanted. The darkness was already within you."
Heid gave a deep sigh. "Who have you been talking to, old god? You've finally figured me out. Then you must know there can be no friendship between us. Only a truce. We can divide shares of mortals, or wage war. What's it to be?"
"War."
Heid's laugh grew harsher. "So be it." She pulled herself to her full height, raised her arms above her head, and burst into flames. The wooden floor began to smolder. A blaze crackled to the wooden walls—old, dry timbers—and they caught fire. "Flames don't harm me. I'll rejuvenate. You and Donar will survive, but your friends won't." She threw fire at the doors, trapping the warriors inside.
Diana stepped forward, moved her hands in a circle, and caught the flames in a whirlwind. The winds swirled smaller and smaller, until they were extinguished.
Heid screamed in frustration. The warriors tensed as the high-pitched cry spiraled out of c
ontrol. "Show yourself, coward! Let me see your face!"
Diana strode toward the center of the room, dropping her obscuring spell on the way. Heid glared at her, lips pulled back in a feral snarl.
"You!" Heid spat. "What gives you any right to come to our lands, to interfere in our business?"
"The runes called me. Gudrun sent for me."
"Gudrun's dead! Go back where you belong."
"Make me."
Heid shot out an arm, and Diana matched her. But instead of throwing energy at Diana, Heid hurled it at Tyr. Tyr threw up his shield, and the white, hot force bounced sideways toward Donar. Donar hit it with his hammer, and it sped toward Jorunda.
"No!" Diana tossed a protective bubble in front of the warrior. The energy bounced off that and raced toward Woden's statue. The statue proved indestructible, and the energy pinged toward Jon. While Diana raised a hand to capture it, Heid disappeared. Diana swore as she held the ball of white sparks in her hand. She waited for them to die, before brushing them away. They skittered to the floor and went out.
Donar looked at Diana in surprise. "You cuss more than my mother-in-law."
"Shut it!" She chewed on her bottom lip in frustration. "Damn it, damn it, damn it! She got away!"
Jon lowered his head, upset. "It's our fault. If we hadn't been here, you could have fought her instead of trying to protect us."
"Rubbish." Diana struggled to control her temper. It had gotten her into trouble more than once. "You were told to come. You had no choice." Her words had an edge to them, but she was regaining some composure.
Tyr sighed, and Diana realized that he was every bit as frustrated as she was. He handled it much better, though. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension out of them.
She turned to him. "You've done that before. How did your shield protect you? It's metal. Can no magic pass it?"
"The dwarves in Asgaard made it for me. They have magic of their own, like Olaf's."
"Strong magic." That made Diana think. "Could Olaf make such shields for the warriors?"
"He'd be working with mortal metals," Tyr said, "but his shields would be better than any they have now."
"Do we dare ask him?" Diana asked.
"It's too much to ask as a favor." Tyr frowned, thinking. "But if we reward him properly…."
"What would you offer him?" Donar asked.
"He could come to Asgaard to live with the dwarves who serve us."
Jorunda nodded, clearly pleased. Even after death, he wouldn't lose his friend.
"Come," Tyr said. "We'll return to the village and seek out Olaf. There's no reason to remain here."
Donar walked with them to the path before returning to Asgaard. Tyr went to the priests to explain about the dark, burn marks in the temple. When he returned to Diana and the warriors, he shook his head. "Who can guess the ways of mortals? The priests feel honored that the gods fought within their temple and there are burn marks to prove it."
The charred boards would be treated as sacred, Diana thought. The priests had no idea how lucky they were. If she hadn't put out the flames, their temple would be nothing but ashes. But if burned wood strengthened their faith, why not? She had more faith in Olaf's shields. And if the dwarf agreed to help them, she meant to find some way to show her appreciation.
No one talked on the way back to the village. Diana replayed the battle with Heid over and over again in her mind. The others were probably doing the same. When they reached the gates and went inside, Tyr told Jorunda, "We'll meet with you later. For now, Diana and I will go to Olaf."
They took the path through the longhouses that led to the dwarf's shop. Two of his children hoed the small vegetable garden in front of it. The aroma of fresh bread wafted from the house. In the distance, Diana saw another of his children weeding the community garden for the village. They found Olaf and Brandr working over a hot fire, pounding metal while it was soft enough to form.
Olaf looked up when he saw them and motioned for Brandr to go on without him. He came to see Tyr and Diana. With a smile, Olaf said, "My friends, how may I serve you?"
Freya and Inga hurried from the hut to greet them, flour still clinging to Inga’s hands.
“Heid?” Freya asked.
“Escaped. I’ll tell you everything later.” Tyr turned to Olaf. "We have a great favor to ask of you." He explained about their battle with Heid and how his shield had deflected Heid's magic. "Such shields could protect our warriors, too, but they must be made with dwarf magic. It's a lot to ask, and I have a reward for such faithful service." Tyr told Olaf about the dwarves in Asgaard and the weapons shop there. "You could take your place with them."
Olaf glanced toward his longhouse. "I thank you, god, but I'm happy here. I have my wife and children. I have friends. I love this village. I have no desire to leave. I'll make your shields, though. I'll do anything I can to protect my loved ones and my home.”
“There must be some way to repay your kindness,” Tyr insisted.
“I can't fight like the warriors do, and I'm too short to stand guard, but I can work metal. And if that's of some help, it will give me great pride."
"I'm humbled," Tyr said. "And I thank you."
They discussed the details of what was needed, and Tyr promised to deliver whatever metals Olaf felt necessary.
“In my land, before I had to flee, I worked with metals forged deep within the earth,” Olaf told him. “Those, combined with dwarf smithing, would deflect witches’ magic.”
“Then I’ll have Hermod fetch them,” Tyr assured him.
That settled, Tyr motioned for the others to follow him. “We’ll join Jorunda and the others in Griswold's longhouse. Heid left our meeting, angry. We’d better be prepared.”
Chapter 23
Griswold paced the great hall, hands clenched behind his back. When Tyr and Diana entered, he snarled, "So, you let Heid get away again? I thought you had strong magic, witch."
The man was an ass. Diana threw up her hand and her magic slammed him against the far wall. When he gasped, she lifted him off the floor and glued him to the thick logs. "If you hadn't interfered, the outcome might be different."
The chieftain yelled, "Put me down! You're no goddess of ours. I don't have to kneel to you."
"And I don't have to lift a finger to help you! I'm not as user friendly as your Norse gods, so watch your step." She clicked her fingers, and Griswold slid to the ground.
He pointed and screamed, "Attack her! Drive her away from here!"
His warriors stared.
"Did you hear me? I gave you an order."
Jorunda dropped to a knee. "We obey, lord, but gods come before men. We cannot disrespect a goddess."
"She's not one of ours," Griswold snarled. "It's of no matter."
"Our gods befriend her," Jon said. "We cannot defy them."
"Get out of my sight!" Griswold paced toward them, his hand on the hilt of his knife. "Leave us."
The warriors hurried out of the room.
"Hlif!" Griswold bellowed.
The old maidservant hunched as she approached. "My lord?"
"Show our visitors out."
Hlif seemed to shrink. She glanced at the gods nervously. "I'm merely a servant…."
Griswold drew back his hand to slap her. From the servant's stance, Diana guessed it had happened many times, but Tyr intervened. He stepped between her and the chieftain. "Ignore my wishes again at your peril, Griswold. I've shown patience for the sake of your people, but my wrath is nothing you wish to endure. You've been warned."
For the first time, Griswold's eyes widened in fear. His complexion paled. "You wouldn't forsake me, sky god?"
"I'd do more. I'd punish or banish you. Do you understand me?"
"It won’t happen again." Griswold licked his lips and slid his eyes to Freya. Her expression clearly did nothing to ease his mind. "How may I be of service to you?" he asked.
Freya snorted. "By keeping your damned mouth shut."
&n
bsp; Griswold swallowed nervously. "Jorunda reported that you meant to ask the dwarf to help us. If he agrees, I'd be happy to trade my shield for one of his making."
Tyr frowned. "Surely, you don't intend to battle Heid when she comes."
"Me?" Griswold looked surprised. "My days in battle are behind me, but a shield for defense would still be welcome."
"Your warriors get them first." Freya didn't mince words. "They'll be on the front lines."
"But…."
Freya shook her head. "If and when Olaf finishes shields for the warriors, he'll make one for you."
"I'm the chieftain!" Griswold argued.
"An old chieftain," Freya pointed out. "You'll serve your village best by staying out of our way."
Griswold opened his lips to speak, then thought better of it. "As you say."
Freya gave a grim smile. "In that case, I'm ready to return home. I've endured your company enough for one day." She called for Inga. "Let's go, girl. It's time to leave."
Tyr walked to the door with them, but when he reached Diana, he surprised her by bending to press his lips to hers. Gentle pressure sizzled to passion, and he bruised her mouth with his hunger. When he stepped away from her, she stared up at him, breathless. He smiled. "“Thanks for saving us….again. Just remember. I owe you my gratitude, and I’m willing to repay it in any way you see fit."
She felt a blush climb her neck and cheeks. When she looked up, Griswold's warriors stood in the courtyard, grinning. Griswold, himself, clenched his fists. Not a happy man.
“So this was about gratitude?” she asked.
“No, mostly, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a long time.”
"You're pushing your luck," she told Tyr, but her voice had no sting. It hardly had volume. Great Zeus, what a kiss! If toes could curl, she’d be unable to walk.
He grinned. "Did it work?"
"I'm ignoring you." She turned to join Freya and Inga.
Freya did her best not to smirk. Inga stumbled, she was so surprised. Diana walked with as much dignity as she could muster until they reached the treeline, out of sight, then she stamped the dirt and seethed, "How dare he? How could he do that to me in front of everyone?"