Fortunately, the women soon returned with a meal from the kitchen. They’d helped cook a feast with elvish help: braised hare strips mingled with carrots, celery, and potatoes, all swimming in a thick brown duck sauce. Prosciutto slices, hot sourdough loaves, and wooden bowls of pumpkin bisque complemented the main dish. To Aurelius’s delight, there was also an entire platter of chanterelle mushrooms sautéed in white wine and butter!
The young knight had never eaten such a meal in his life. After the confrontations in Alfheim and Hel, the battle against the Wilde Jagd, and the flight across Niflheim, he found his appetite voracious. None of the group spoke much as they hungrily tucked into the food.
After the meal, Aurelius leaned back into the plush fur coverlet on the bench, sipping at the honeymead and enjoying the proximity to Clarinda. When Ratatosk awakened with a spasmodic jerk and hopped onto the pillows beside her, she’d moved even closer to the knight. The fire blazed in the hearth, and Aurelius felt fully content with the Venetian girl at his side, simply enjoying the momentary respite of staring into the flames and watching the people in the hall.
Fenris returned to his guests, sitting down next to Skade across from the Hospitaller and Norn, and putting an arm comfortably over her shoulder.
“So, my friends,” the burly man asked, “where were we?”
“I was going to thank you again for the hospitality—” Aurelius began.
“Here, here,” Clarinda added, raising a goblet in a toast shared by all.
“— and just tell you again how grateful I am for all this; the food, the bath, the lodgings and clothes...just to be out of the storm was enough, but this,” he indicated the great hall, filled with the sounds of elvish harps, laughter, carousing, and crackling fires, “this is all beyond expectation. Thank you, both of you.”
“You’re welcome,” Fenris said, “but know, too, that I owe you a debt myself. If I hadn’t seen you for what you are — and the peril you were in from my sister and Old Nick — I might not have had the strength to act as I did.”
“Then it’s true?” Aurelius replied. “Hela’s your sister? That would make you…”
“The Fenrir-Wolf,” Fenris said with a nod, still completely at ease. “Loki, whom some call the Trickster, is our father. Our brother, Jormungand, is a gigantic serpent who lies at the bottom of the sea — I can’t remember the last time I saw him take human form.” He looked down affectionately at Skade. “A ‘damned and thrice-cursed brood’ is what Mimir called us once, wasn’t it, Dear?”
“Mimir was angry at the time,” Skade said, “and the world was much younger than what it is now.”
“It was, it was,” Fenris agreed, and then looked back at Aurelius and Clarinda. “We always pay for the mistakes of our fathers, but unfortunately my family’s payments have more consequences than the typical lot. My sister has the power of...command over me when I’m lupine; I can only break it at great risk.” He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Lucky for you I thought the life of the Codex Wielder was worth that risk.” He paused. “Given all that, I’d guide you wherever you need to go if you’ll have me.”
Aurelius paused, understanding the unspoken problem. He’d fought for half a day beside Fenris and Skade and traveled with them for hours across a blinding snowstorm in Niflheim — he knew their mettle, and would welcome the skills they’d bring to any confrontation, but to have a guide that might transform into a beast whose fury could be turned against him if Hela commanded, seemed sheer folly.
“What’s worse, Fenris?” Aurelius asked, giving voice to his fears. “The threat of getting lost in the wastes of Niflheim, or that of being devoured by your other self? You saved my life, but it might be argued that it was you who imperiled it by taking us out of the tower.”
Fenris smiled, and nodded approvingly at the Hospitaller’s logic. “I understand your mistrust but, as I said, I have complete control over the wolf until the next full moon. And, my sister doesn’t control me outside of her realm.” He took a sip from the goblet, thoughtful. “I can’t prove what I say until the change takes effect (some risk there, I grant you), but you must know that the Norns — and certainly not Mimir or Grimnir — would never allow an alliance among Loki’s children.” He looked darkly into the depths of his goblet. “That won’t occur until the Final Twilight, and then it’s foretold that we’ll act in concert, but each for our own purpose.”
He stared intently at Aurelius.
“I won’t betray you, my friend. You are what I can never be — I don’t hate or resent you for that, but would rather pledge to give you whatever aid I can. To strike back against my father, brother, and sister...they’ve brought so much hurt to the Nine Worlds — that’s my wish. You have my word, so long as we remain outside Hela’s domain, I won’t betray you, but strive to protect you with my last breath.”
Aurelius had to trust his instincts, and for both Fenris and Skade, those intuitions ran true.
“Thank you for your help, although I’m still unclear why Mimir and the Norns want to protect me, and what a Codex Wielder is. I’ve only seen a Codex Lacrimae recently, and except for my family’s name in the cover, I don’t see how it could possibly apply to me.”
Skade nodded, then cast a gaze up and down him. “We’ve noticed you carry nothing with you except a couple weapons and a hatchet. Clarinda, perhaps some mistake has been made?”
“I’m still trying to learn as much as I can about it,” Clarinda replied, not mentioning the guess she’d made about Santini somehow being the Codex Lacrimae. If the Norns and Mimir remained mysterious about the subject, she saw nothing to be gained by discussing such things in this public setting.
“The little that I do know about it,” Aurelius picked up, “would keep me from ever laying claim to it anyway.”
The life of a friend.
“I was told a story about a Raj’al-Jared who tried to claim ownership of it and he ended up committing atrocities before finally getting drawn and quartered by his own men.” Aurelius smiled wanly, looking to both Fenris and Skade. “I appreciate the respect you give me, but I’d rather that come from what I’ve earned fighting at your side, than because you think I’m some kind of ‘Codex Wielder.’”
“Fair enough,” Fenris said. “I certainly know what it feels like to be mistaken for something other than who you are.”
“You seemed to want the...,” Skade started to say to Clarinda, and then paused. “You seemed to want Servius to get to Mimir’s Well sooner than later. I assume that means we leave in the morning, if possible?”
Clarinda nodded. “If the storm’s let up by then.”
Fenris shook his head. “The storm won’t matter if you’ll truly take my aid.”
“Of course,” Aurelius said, “what do you suggest?”
“The Caves of Nidaveller,” Fenris replied. “Those ways are dangerous in places, but the most efficient way to Mount Glittertind. We’ll seek the guidance of the Arch-Mage, Andvari.”
“Glittertind?” Clarinda repeated. “If you can get us there, I can find Mimir’s Well from any part of the mountain!”
“Nidaveller?” Aurelius mused, trying to recall the Nine Worlds. “The world of the dwarves?”
He glanced at the dwarves who were the most well represented of the peoples gathered in the mead-hall. Two were sitting close by, drinking from their tankards and distinctive mostly by their size — the tallest in the chamber barely reaching Aurelius’s waist — the rich coloration of their clothing, and long grey beards that reached to their ankles. He saw to his surprise that the rather beautiful, smooth-skinned female dwarves — whom Skade had called brownies — were even more boisterous and outspoken than their kinfolk.
“Nidaveller’s the quickest way to Mount Glittertind,” Skade assured him, “and, if I know my Norns, once you’re in Glittertind, your young lass here will have no trouble in finding the grottoes — it’s the first thing that they train you in, the geography of that damned weird.”
“What�
�s that?” Aurelius asked. “What’s a ‘ weird ?’”
“A place common to all realities,” Clarinda answered, recalling her training. “There are a few in the Nine Worlds that also serve as Runeporten — or, “Rune Gates,” Servius — if you know where to look and how to make one. Mount Glittertind and Yggdrassil are the largest, but there’s also one in the Niflheimian Sea, I think.”
Fenris nodded. “Yes, those are the Runeporten that can never change.”
Clarinda looked at Skade, trusting in the beginning of a mutual respect they’d found for each other while talking during their baths and preparation of supper.
“You seem to know something of the Norns,” she observed. “You’ve been to the grottoes before?”
Skade held the girl’s gaze for a long moment, and Aurelius wondered if Clarinda had offended her somehow with the question.
“You’re training to be a Norn, and they’ve not told you about me, yet?”
“No, should they have?”
Skade shrugged. “Not necessarily, but, yes: I’ve been to Mimir’s Well, repeatedly. I lived in the grottoes for a long while after my father died.”
Ratatosk laughed, hopping to his hind-paws. “No one even noticed I wasn’t sleeping!” he cried. “What a group of dullards, you are!” He hopped to the floor and looked up at Fenris. “And you call yourself a wolf? What kind of senses do you have, anyway?”
The squirrel ran to stand in front of the fire and looked at Skade. “I think Mimir’s been grateful every day that’s passed since you moved out,” he said, “although the last time I saw you, you were with Niord and not this hairy beast...you get around, Sweetheart, don’t you?” The squirrel hopped back up to the couch next to Clarinda. “When Skade came to live in the grottoes, it’s one of the few times that I’ve seen Mimir act compassionately. She can still go to him anytime, and probably get anything she wants, too.”
Clarinda turned her attention back to Skade. “That doesn’t sound like Mimir at all — every time I see him, I feel as if he’s exasperated that he has to take time to talk with me, and I’m training to be one of the Norns!”
“Ah, if only you knew the story…,” Ratatosk chirped wistfully, continuing to whistle as he looked back and forth.
“I don’t mind if the squirrel tells the tale,” Skade approved, slipping her feet from her sandals and tucking them under her legs as she leaned closer to Fenris, “but it’ll have to be another time. We all need sleep before tomorrow’s journey.” She caught Aurelius’s attention with a thoughtful stare from electric-blue eyes. “Perhaps, though, when you eventually hear our tale, it will help you...understand certain things, Master Santini.”
Fenris laughed. “I’m just glad that your story now includes me, my love.”
Skade smiled. “I will tell you, Clarinda, that Mimir’s bark is worse than his bite. He offered me shelter when I fled a very bad marriage, and even gave me my first bow and pair of skies to start a new life.”
“That’s how we met!” Fenris exclaimed. “Fighting for the same kill in the mountains of Jotunheim. It was love at first sight.”
Aurelius was surprised at the calmness of Skade’s tone, and the reassuring message that she was obviously trying to impart before everybody retired. Both were in marked contrast to her earlier carefree attitude that always bordered on seeming recklessness. He merely nodded and glanced at Clarinda.
“She makes a good point,” the Venetian girl agreed, raising an eyebrow. “When we get to the Well, let’s just ask Mimir what to do — he might have a better answer about the Codex than anybody can guess, and perhaps confronting him directly is the way to do it.”
Fenris rose to his feet. “Well, if we’re going into the caves tomorrow, it’ll be an early start. Glittertind is at least a week’s journey of long marches, and there are places where rock giants have been known to lurk. We should all get some sleep.” He helped Skade to her feet, and they bade everyone a good night.
“Did they show you where we’re supposed to sleep?” Aurelius asked Clarinda.
“Mm-hmm,” she said, leaning against his shoulder and staring at the fire. “Skade showed me the stairwell off the kitchen. We’re at the back of the house in bedrooms close to theirs.”
Aurelius started to rise, but Clarinda kept her shoulder pressed against his.
“Let’s just sit here for a moment, can we?” she said, her voice thick with sleep as she pulled a pelt over their bodies. “It’s been a long day and...house...finally...quiet....”
A glance around the hall proved her words. He saw that the chamber was half as populated as when they’d first entered, but didn’t feel any rush to leave Clarinda’s side. She was a comfort to him, forestalling the reckoning he needed to make with his past about things he’d learned from Hela and Old Nick.
Oh, put that sword down, Santini — you’re not going to hurt your Old ‘Uncle Servius,’ are you?
Then the fiend’s laughter: Are you that foolish? You live twelve years in the world, and one autumn you return from your little summer trips to find a ‘long-lost uncle’ waiting for you. Six months of getting to know the family, and then it was off to the Holy Land for you with him? Come on, Servius. Didn’t you think Paolo’s conversion was a bit sudden and strange?
Aurelius winced, pushing his thoughts away. This had to be a nightmare and somehow he had to stay strong and see it through, whatever pain it caused.
He felt Clarinda shift, and looked down to see her lips fall partly open as she fell into a deep sleep. He put an arm over her shoulder and leaned back, thinking about all that had happened since the return of Ibn-Khaldun and the siege of two armies at the Krak. Was this a dream, and if so, what would he do in a world without a Clarinda Trevisan when he awakened? If it wasn’t, what effect would knowing she was somewhere in the world have on all the plans he’d made for his life after Mecina?
He had no answer, so he simply held her, watching the flames of the fire for a long while.
Chapter 10
The Descent to Niđafjöll
“Trust me, my friends,” Fenris chortled. It was the next morning, and he crossed his hairy arms over his chest, taking in his guests. The company had gathered near an alcove at the back of the Fenrir-baude.
“I didn’t fight off the forces of the Wilde Jagd yesterday,” he continued, “only to have you plummet to your death today. This device is very reliable, and quite simple to operate. You just have to step on, hold the rail or,” he winked at Clarinda and Aurelius, “to each other, if you need to — and then down we’ll go!”
He pointed to the room behind him that was unadorned by anything except eight cables that rose vertically up the walls, a pulley system with six on one side and two on the other for stabilization.
“This lift is the only way into Nidaveller from our home,” Skade repeated, impatience and irritation in her voice. “It’s a direct drop — I mean, ‘descent’ — to the city of the dwarves. Fenris is correct — we must move with some haste. We need a wizard’s help. Since Andvari’s one of the nine Arch-Mages and we’re seeking his counsel, we ought to respect his work habits. He’s a bit odd. Some think he doesn’t sleep at all, but he’s known for getting most of his work done in the morning. By that reckoning, we’ve lost half the day already.”
“Just let me make sure I understand,” Aurelius said, “this isn’t a room, but the top of some kind of shaft that goes into the earth?”
Fenris nodded. “Only for a little while, then there’s complete open space all around us until we reach the cavern floor.”
Aurelius shrugged in resignation. “We’ll take it, then — but, I’m not that great with heights.”
“Nor am I,” Clarinda added, similarly suspicious.
“Don’t look down, then,” Ratatosk advised, leaning against the threshold of the room and crunching on a nut. “It’s peculiar that this part is bothering you, and he’s not even talked about the lower chambers where we could run into everything from bottomless pits and pha
ntom bridges to Nidhogg the Dragon.”
The squirrel moved aside at a growl from Geri, who evidently trusted that Aurelius and Clarinda were going to be taking the lift, regardless of the misgivings they’d just expressed.
“Fine, fine,” the squirrel added hastily as Freki, too, snarled. “But, you should tell them that if those cables were to break, they’ll fall straight to Nidaveller Road for a half-league. Very messy if that happens. Very messy.”
“Hush, Little One,” Fenris said dismissively. “In all the centuries of operation, the lift has never failed.”
Aurelius glanced at Clarinda and moved forward.
“We don’t have a choice,” he told her. “It’s either this or back outside to Niflheim.”
When Clarinda stepped onto the platform with him, they both walked to the rear of the room where an iron rail ran horizontally across the walls.
“What do we do?” he asked Fenris.
Fenris laughed, making room for Skade to join the group. When all were standing on the platform, they looked expectedly at Ratatosk.
The squirrel returned the gazes and shook his furry head.
“I’ll find my own way, thanks.”
Fenris shrugged, dropped a bar from its vertical position and then tugged firmly on the cord. A bell chimed and then within half a moment the platform shuddered before slowly beginning to descend.
The three walls appeared to slide upward as the floor went down, and Aurelius was glad when he felt Clarinda move toward him the same time that he began moving toward her.
“The Brisinga necklace can take me anywhere,” she whispered, “but, I think I’m more afraid of this than — whoa !” She stepped forward near him and then stayed close for the rest of the descent.
Girded only by the four horizontal bars of the iron frame, they suddenly found themselves completely free of any walls or substructure to the Fenrir-baude. They hung in open space, moving downward steadily. Aurelius felt as if the entire company were floating downward into the chasm on some invisible force. The slender tethers on which their lives depended and the great height gave him a feeling of vertigo until he saw the beauty of the underground world.
The Codex Lacrimae Page 38
