The business going on stopped as the Aesir spotted him. Odin came to his feet, motioning toward the seat that Frigg had previously occupied. “My son Leif, it is time for you to take your rightful place with us here!”
“I’ve got a question and a boon first, Father Odin,” Leif called back.
“Then speak. We have already promised you one request within the limit of our powers. You have earned the boon this day.”
“The question first,” Leif said. He saw Loki struggling through the throng toward him, but he had no intention of discussing things further. “Am I free to return to Earth—to Midgard? Or am I to be held here?”
Surprise mingled with a sharp disappointment on Odin’s face, but the old head nodded gravely. “Leif, no son of Odin is a prisoner on any world! Your right to return as we thought you knew, has existed since first you were adopted here. It is our hope that you will remain—but no one shall detail you!”
Leif considered the face that he could have gone at any time, but it didn’t matter. After seeing the giants, he could never have deserted the Aesir until their battle was decided. Now, though, his obligation was to his own world, no matter what his feelings might be. Yet he still hesitated , considering and rechecking the only solution that he had finally found.
“Your request?” Odin prompted him.
“All right,” Leif said at last. He lifted his voice for all to hear. “Let me take all the sacred apples back to Earth with me!”
It was the only possible answer. As Loki had said, the goads would never give up their claim to their ancestral planet. And while the loss of the apples would return them to sleep for another thousand years, it was only a delay. It was a truce that none could break until the sleep was finished, and then they could try to sack Earth, if they liked. By that time, Earth should be able to take care of herself, even if Bifrost remained open.
For a few seconds after his demand, there had been a stunned silence. Now suddenly it was shattered buy a tumult of furious cries.
“Traitor!” The loudest bellow was that of the normally quiet Freyr. His superlative sword was out now, and the god was charging forward. “Slay the traitor!”
The shouting unified behind him, and the mob began moving purposefully, drawing their weapons. Days of waiting for doom, battle rage, broken prophecies and unexpected victory had left their nerves balanced on a sword edge, and now they snapped. “Niflheim! To Niflheim with Loki’s cub!”
“Justice!” Thor’s bellow sounded over all other voices, and his hammer split the air before the crowd in a screaming rush. “This is a judging place. Let judgment be made!”
For moment, the crowd stopped and milled uncertainly as Thor’s hammer sped back to his hand. But even he could not hold them all in check. Odin was pounding for order with his spear. Then Heimdallr lifted the Gjallar-Horn, just as the ravens darted from Odin’s shoulders and headed for Leif and Loki.
The brazen clamor of Heimdallr’s blast was like the thrust of a sea wave, driving all before it.
In the hush that followed, the raven landed on Leif’s shoulder, beating its wings and croaking harshly. “Odin commands! Go at once to the workshops and remain until released!”
The shops were still too near, Leif felt. And he had no intention of waiting while they voted whether to kill him or send him to Niflheim. He lifted his head to call the summons for Hoof-Tosser. Then he caught sight of the single eye of Odin, fixed on him, fully open, commanding…
Leif’s legs began moving under him against his will, heading for the workshops. He gave up resisting until he was out of sight of Yggdrasil, then fought for control. But it was useless. He saw Lee run up to join him, but could not even turn in greeting. Without faltering, his legs moved steadily onward, carrying him toward the shops.
Chapter XIX
Dusk was settling on Asgard when two figures approached the shops. Lee Svensen was packing about, but Leif sat quietly smoking; he had tried to move twice, but the force of Odin’s mental command was still in control. The figures drew nearer and turned into Thor and Odin. Now at last, Leif could feel the compulsion leave his legs, but he made no effort to rise.
Odin came up first, looking down at him, and the god’s shoulders were slumped with fatigue. Gravely, he dropped a chest to the ground at Leif’s feet. “The apples are all there, Leif, my son. So long as we rule here, no man or god may say that the word of Odin is an empty thing. The Aesir pay their debts.”
The shock was greater to Leif than that of the crowd’s reaction to his request. He had been expecting and planning for anything but this.
“I’m sorry, Father Odin,” he said slowly, rising at last. Something in the grave old figure made the acknowledgement of relationship more than a normal salutation. “I had no wish to be another of the sons who have betrayed you…”
“Nor are you.” Thor’s voice was brusque and as low as it could ever be. “The shame lies with the Aesir, and Heimdallr has preached from Jotunheim to vanished Vanahem and back until they know and regret their error. When a man or god betrays his roots, there is no honor in him—when he is true to them, nothing can make a traitor of him. By Ymir, once I saw the thought behind your request, I’d have chained you between Asgard and Niflheim if you had asked for less. The vote was unanimous. Take the apples, brother, and go back to Midgard with your conscience clear—as we shall sleep with ours.”
Sudri was waiting with a mournful face. He accepted the automatic and put it away mechanically, nodding at his new instructions. His eyes brightened as Leif held out his hand in farewell, but tears kep falling down his ugly face, and he seemed to have no voice.
Outside again, Leif picked up the apples and turned to Odin. “Sudri can protect the entrances to Asgard while you sleep. The dwarfs know how to use the bombs and grenades. And I’ve told him how to care for the tree. He may even be able to develop more trees for you.”
There seemed to be nothing else to say. He strapped the chest to his belt, feeling strange without the armor he’d gotten used to. Then he lifted his head and called. An answering nicker came at once, and Hoof-Tosser dropped down beside him, nuzzling him gently.
Odin dropped his hands on Leif’s shoulders. “Wherever you are, you have the power to summon Hoof-Tosser to you—to carry you about on Midgard or to return you to Asgard. We’ll be sleeping, but there will be room beside our dreams for yours. And when I wake, I shall look for you, my son.”
Thor’s great hand was firm and warm as he made his wordless farewell. Lee followed him, with words that were thick and choked, yet still faintly mocking. “So long, son. In a thousand years, I’ll come down and look up Leif Svensen in the history books and read about you. “You’ll be there.”
Leif shook his head. “Look up Leif Odinsson, Lee,” he corrected, and saw Odin smile approvingly.
The others moved back to where Sudri was standing. Leif looked over Asgard again, savoring all that was good about it for one more time, and hoping to catch a glimpse of Loki or perhaps another. Then he vaulted into the saddle. Hoof-Tosser rose, and they were breasting the swirls and patterns of Bifrost.
It was easier this time, without metal on him, and there was even time for snatches of thought. He’d have to send the chest back after the apples were gone; the Aesire would need it for the next crop. And he should have brought a heavy skin mantle to protect him against the cold of Earth. But it was too late for that now. Hoof-Tosser was moving forward at a steady rolling gait, and Bifrost was only a thin mist. Then that cleared. The horse gave a sudden swoop, and went down for a gentle landing, while bright sunlight poured over them. They were back on Earth.
Leif slid from the saddle slowly, staring at his farm in surprise. It had been mid-February when he last looked through the mirror, but now it seemed more like April. The snow was gone, and the air was warm with spring. They had landed in a small clearing in the woods not far from his house, and the trees were leafed out. Some were even blooming.
Time had made another sudden fo
rward leap here. Or more probably, Asgard’s time had slowed somehow under the stress of Ragnarok. He could never hope to understand all the complex cross-effects of the dimensional separations, thought there might be a logic to them somewhere. Anyhow, Fimbulwinter was long past, and the Earth was already recovering.
Hoof-Tosser nickered again and touched his arm with a soft muzzle. Leif rubbed it, smiling faintly. “Go on, back to Asgard, Hoof-Tosser. This is no world for flying horses as long as men go on building anti-aircraft guns. Sometime I’ll summon you down again, and we’ll take a ride at night over safe territory. Okay?”
The horse blew its breath sharply through its nostrils, shook its head, arched its neck, and was suddenly lifting and vanishing in a rainbow of color. Leif turned up the trail, coming out on fallow land. He stopped and smelled the dirt, rubbing it out over the palm of his hand. It should have been plowed and planted, though it was still a trifle too damp. And the dead wood back there should be pruned away. There’d be work enough for him, and he needed it.
“Hi, Leif!”
He looked up to see Faulkner working on a tractor. There was no real cordiality in the man’s voice, but the acceptance seemed natural enough. “Heard you’d be back. I’ve got the accounts all ready for you to look at. How about going over them later tonight?”
“Fine,” Leif told him. Then he paused. “That is, if I’ve still got enough in the bank to pay you. Otherwise…”
Faulkner frowned in surprise. “You mean Mr. Laufeyson didn’t tell you? Well, I’ll be darned. Hey, Luke!”
Loki came out of one of the smaller buildings, dressed in working clothes and smeared with tractor grease. He nodded to Leif, drawing him out of Faulkner’s hearing.
“I paid him a year in advance. I figured you could use the help, and he needs enough to buy a better farm than the little place he had.”
“Using what for money?”
“Money isn’t hard to get when one uses the mirror to spy out things from Asgard.” Loki grinned lazily, stretching himself contentedly. “And stop looking surprised at finding me here. When I saw you were going to win, I decided sleeping for a thousand years wasn’t to my fancy.”
They climbed the steps onto the porch, pushed through the screen door, and were in the old, familiar living room. After the great halls of Asgard, it seemed tiny and cramped. But there was a welcome odor of cooking food from the kitchen. Leif started toward it, then paused, studying Loki with a sudden stirring of doubt.
“You’re not the type to settle down to farming,” he accused.
“I might say the same for you, my heroic protégé,” Loki said. He chuckled and picked up a paper from the table. “They’re rebuilding and moving ahead here, Leif. They’ve even found an atomic rocket fuel! They thought Fimbuljahr was a new ice-age and were looking for a way to settle on Venus. Now they’re going to explore every world in the system, and I’ve got money enough here to bribe passage for us. Venus, Mars, Jupiter, your moon! Do you realize it has been fifty thousand years since I explored a new world?”
The odor of food was stronger, and there was a clatter of pots and pans. Leif went through the dining room toward the kitchen. He was inside before the full shock hit him.
She turned slowly as he entered, pulling the apron up over her head. There was a hint of a smile on her mouth, but her eyes were uncertain. She took a step forward doubtfully, as if waiting for his reaction.
“Fulla! Oh, you fool!”
She was in his arms, almost crying as she pressed against him. “Fool yourself, Leif Odinsson! Did you really think I’d let you leave me when Hoof-Tosser knew the way here? I kept out a few apples, too—enough for us to have two months more together, or perhaps even three, before I change!”
Then she cried out as he unbuckled the chest and put it on the table. She tore back the cover and stared inside, incredulously. “All of them! Enough for years…for us to have sons before I go back!”
“Better than that, Full!” Loki’s voice drifted in from the doorway, and Leif looked up to see him standing with his arm about Gail Faulkner in familiar possession. “Come on outside, you two. I’ve got something worth seeing as a reunion surprise for you.”
He picked up one of the apples from the chest and began munching on it carelessly, paying no heed to Fulla’s gasp at the waste. He led them around the house, where a new building stood with glassed roof and sides facing the sun.
“When I learned about growing from your books, Leif, I hadn’t forgotten the long years of sleep,” he said. “So I brought back a few cuttings and had an expert work on them. There are ten trees here, and all will bear Asgard fruit.”
Leif looked at them, shaking his head. “They’re too big for one season. And they’re blooming.”
“Ummm. I expected that. They’re filled with the vigor of passage through Bifrost and they’re on Earth now, where plants are supposed to bloom every year. So they bloom. Long before your chest is empty, Fulla, these will be bearing in plenty…”
“But…” It was coming too fast, and Leif could no longer adjust his ideas to the facts. Then another suspicion crossed his mind, and he swung toward Loki.
“Don’t worry.” Loki tossed the apple core onto the grass and met Leif’s gaze easily. “None will go back to Asgard by my efforts. I was never fond enough of the Aesir traditions to want them loosed on this world.”
He tucked Gail’s arm into his own and moved back to the house. Winking at Leif and leaving him alone with Fulla.
She linked her hand in his, her figure slim and golden in the sunlight as they stood looking at the little trees. She dropped down, running her fingers through the soil, watching it as it packed into a loose ball in her hands.
Leif Odinsson reached across her arm, pulling out a stack of quack grass that was invading the plot. He grimaced. He’d be fighting that instead of giants, from now on. Giants were killable, and they stayed dead. But quack grass and weeds were enemies that never ceased and no truce was possible with them.
“We’ll have to be married here, Fulla,” he told her. “It wouldn’t be right to have our children think we’re fallen gods, just because we didn’t go through the right formalities. Or are you willing to be a simple farmer’s wife?”
“Oh, Leif! But Loki said you’d be going on the rockets…”
He shook his head. “Loki’s got me wrong. I’m not a hero now, my dear.”
But it was good to have been one, he realized. Every man should have a chance to kill a few giants, win his girl, and be a god for a while—and perhaps most men could, if they could put aside their fears long enough to try. It was comforting to have the fears behind; to need no quest for grails beyond the horizon, and not to envy those who found worlds waiting for exploration. It would be good to settle down now to a simple life where no weight of godhood rested on him.
Of course, some day when they were older and their children were grown—when the rebuilding of Earth had left them behind in its forward race…
He put the thought aside and turned his mind back to Fulla. “I’m just what I said—a plain, old-fashioned dirt farmer. Do you mind?”
She showed him she didn’t as they settled down onto the grass, letting the warm sun shine on them. It was good to be back, and for the moment he was content.
Day of the Giants Page 14
