The Reckoning of Asgard Read online

  Frederick added: “If we visit the Heart Tree, we may be able to recover my spear,” he said. “It is sister-spear to Gunghir, Odin’s spear. A most powerful weapon.”

  “Good,” began Grum as he glanced at Farling and Arastead, “then we have a plan. We revisit the Heart Tree, visit Alchemist’s stronghold in Aarlund, then return to Trondheim, then to Nidavellir to forge new weapons of magic to fight against the elves and the frost giants.”

  Arastead shook his head. “And I thought you wanted to work in the forge more,” he observed.

  “If there is an opportunity to find my war hammer or new enchanted weapons, then I say the sooner we leave, the better,” replied Grum.

  Margret said: “We should use the portals in the thieves guilds. It will be much quicker to move us from place to place.”

  Farling asked: “Is the portal in the Pitcairn thieves guild still uncovered?”

  “I believe it is covered,” said Margret. “If we send a raven, that will be quickest.”

  “I will do it,” said Nas. “I will summon the fastest ravens, ones that know the way.”

  “Good,” said Frederick. “Call your ravens, Nas. Give them the message, get them on their way.”

  “There is one more thing we must discuss,” said Mage. “It regards your wife, Queen Astrid.”

  “Is she in danger?” asked Frederick.

  “No, she is not in danger, yet,” began Mage. “As you are aware, she carries the Sorceress.” Frederick nodded mechanically. “The Sorceress, your daughter, will be the most powerful witch in all the realms in many generations.”

  “Yes, Mage, I am aware,” said Frederick. “What does this have to do with Queen Astrid?”

  “Has she told you she displays the abilities of a witch? That she can cast magic?”

  “She has not.”

  Nas interjected: “I imagine she was too scared to tell you, King Frederick. It can be quite disconcerting to discover one has magical abilities. It is quite another to discover those abilities when you are older.”

  Frederick said: “But she is not a witch.”

  “No,” began Mage, “but your unborn daughter is, and it is her magical power that gives your wife her magical abilities.”

  “Why tell me this?” asked Frederick.

  “Because your Queen must be trained,” began Mage, “and she will need to learn how to pull magic from Yggdrasil and the Midgard Serpent.”

  “And it is you who will train her?” asked Frederick.

  Ogre nodded. “Your wife was to be kidnapped and your daughter was to be raised in Alfheim,” he said. “I was kept alive to teach your daughter, when she was of age, how to use magic.”

  “Why did the elves choose you?” asked Frederick. “They must have their own necromancers and healers.”

  “Necromancers are wizards,” said Mage. “Their magic derives from the Midgard Serpent. The healers are clerics, their magic derives from Yggdrasil. I am ogre and so those rules do not apply as I pull magic from Yggdrasil and from the Midgard Serpent. I am just not near as powerful as a Sorceress.”

  “Well, it will be an interesting discussion with my wife,” said Frederick.

  CHAPTER 5

  The Graydon Armor Discovered

  “Speak!”

  The necromancer bowed low, his long beard scrapping the floor of the great hall of Alfheim castle. Before him stood Sundaliji, and on the throne sat Amaliji.

  “Master Sundaliji,” stuttered the necromancer, “I believe my coven detected something of great importance.”

  “Spit it out, necromancer,” said Sundaliji. “Your attempt at building suspense is pitiful.”

  “Yes, Master Sundaliji,” said the necromancer, gulping. “Years ago, when the elves were the Chosen, when the Chosen travelled to distant realms—”

  Amaliji jerked to his feet, his hand on the hilt of his blade. Cried: “Cut your story short else I cut you short!”

  The necromancer blanched and gulped loudly. “Several days ago, my fellow necromancers and I felt a great surge of magic,” he finally said.

  Sundaliji yelled, his voice echoing off the walls: “What did you discover?”

  Sweat poured down the necromancer’s face as he stammered: “A Graydon suit of armor.”

  Amaliji raised his head. Whispered: “Stories passed from my father and his father’s father and his father before him spoke of the tale of the missing Graydon Armor. A great battle at a temple of Galdr, the person wearing the armor destroyed—but the armor survived. Only three suits of armor were made. The wizards of Midgard were weakened before them. And still, somehow, they managed to destroy two of those suits of armor.”

  Amaliji stood and walked towards the necromancer. “So, how do you propose we steal the armor back?” he said.

  “That is a bit of a problem, actually,” replied the necromancer.

  “How so?” asked Sundaliji.

  “We detected the armor, but we cannot detect it anymore,” said the necromancer.

  “You have lost it?” asked Amaliji.

  “Your Majesty, we believe it is still in Midgard, in the city of Trondheim,” began the necromancer. “Ogre Mage spoke of a guild accessible only through a portal. We believe the Graydon Armor is in this hidden guild as the armor appeared for several hours, then disappeared.”

  “It does make some sense,” said Sundaliji. “The reason we have not been able to detect the fabled missing Graydon Armor is because it is hidden behind eldritch magic.”

  “Once we have the armor, who wears it?” asked the necromancer. “An elf may not wear Graydon Armor.”

  “You get ahead of yourself, necromancer,” said Amaliji, causing the necromancer to go even whiter. “We do not even have the Graydon Armor, yet. But, when we do, Alchemist had his minions, his children, those were-beasts. The most ferocious of them should wear it.”

  Sundaliji nodded. “Wearing that armor, one of those were-beasts will be most formidable against the wizards of Midgard,” he said.

  “Perhaps even against Galdr,” said Amaliji.

  “Or the Sorceress,” said Sundaliji as they smiled, causing the necromancer to faint.

  CHAPTER 6

  Assassins in Trondheim

  Night fell and darkness stole over the city of Trondheim.

  To the guards who stood at her bedroom door, Queen Astrid bade a good night.

  Inside, she removed her scarf. She had told everyone she had been sick the last few days, which explained the change in her voice. Around her neck she wore a new necklace with an unusual pendant. She told her ladies-in-waiting it was a gift from her husband.

  She removed the pendant and her appearance changed, as it was Princess Margret staring at herself in the mirror.

  Margret had quickly discovered that she could not wear her enchanted circlet and the illusionist’s charmed necklace at the same time. The circlet belonged to Freya, Goddess of Wisdom, and the necklace belonged to Loki, the Deceiver. Freya’s circlet was designed specifically to see through Loki’s illusions when he was pretending to be someone else, and so the two enchanted items could not be worn at the same time. So, she left her circlet in Astrid’s bedroom while she wore Loki’s necklace during the day.

  Frederick had agreed to the masquerade once he realized the extent of danger his wife was in. He found some satisfaction at the death of Goran but knew at the same that the illusionist had only played a small part in the attempted coup.

  So, Frederick played his part, spoke soothing words to Margret when she appeared as Astrid, saying how he hoped she would get over her supposed illness quickly.

  Margret placed her circlet on her head and she felt the usual wave of nausea roll over her. Wearing the circlet, all her senses heightened; smells became more concentrated, images more vibrant, sounds more intense. As well, the circlet increased her already nascent sense of seeing the future, even allowing her to see things that were to happen seconds ahead, giving her an edge in any fight.

  Margret had made thi
s decision without her father’s approval. Nas had approved but only after he had been convinced Margret would raise the alarm using her circlet to alert him: She just had to keep the assassins at bay until Nas, and a small battle party, arrived by portal rune.

  Without Loki’s necklace, Margret stayed away from the windows in case she was seen. She took the precaution to place additional weapons around the room, especially her short knives.

  She did not have to wait long.

  The windows smashed apart as assassins broke through.

  CHAPTER 7

  Elves in Trondheim

  The two elves shook their heads to clear them after the portal jump. Through the leafy foliage of the forest outside Trondheim, moonlight shone on them.

  King Amaliji had sent two of his finest warriors to Trondheim where they were to infiltrate the hidden guild that stored the fabled Graydon Armor and steal it. Amaliji gave them an amulet handed down from generation to generation of elf king that could open any hidden portal. The necromancers crafted an enchanted dagger that when held loosely in the palm would point towards the guild’s hidden portal door. And, both elves dressed in enchanted clothing that allowed them to blend with their surroundings, making it a challenge for anyone to spot them.

  In their own tongue, the elves spoke.

  “That must be Trondheim,” said one, pointing at the lighted city.

  “Night has fallen.”

  “The conditions for victory are ideal.”

  “Let us make our king proud.”

  “For Alfheim.”

  “For Alfheim.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Margret and the Assassins

  Each of the four assassins landed on their feet as easily as would a cat, an impressive feat considering they had smashed through a window. Their daggers appeared in their hands even though Margret had not seen them reach for their weapons. Without a word, they rushed her, their blades hissing as they cut through the air.

  The room blurred as Margret parried a dagger thrust, then cut an assassin, avoided a dagger slice, then cut at a different assassin. The pearl in her circlet glowed as she moved effortlessly around the assassins, avoiding or parrying their attacks, while she managed to bleed them. To Margret, it was as if the assassins’ movements were slowed like they moved through water while she skimmed swiftly across the surface.

  As one, the four assassins stopped fighting and stepped back.

  Margret stared at them, her breathing easy. The assassins stared at her through the slits in their hoods. In the pale moonlight, she noticed they were dressed in black to become as one with the shadows. Their shoes were soft leather, which made no sound helping them to move ghost-like across the floor. Each assassin had a dagger in one hand, and she saw more weapons in their belts.

  Margret reached out to Nas but felt no response. Realizing she may have to fight the assassins on her own did not worry her. But wondering where Nas and the blacksmiths were, did.

  The pounding on the door caught her attention. The guards in the hall must have been doing it for some time but Margret had not noticed, focused as she was on defending her life. One of the assassins must have locked the door.

  One of the assassins spoke in their strange monotone. Said: “Before you die, this one must know the name of the assassins guild at which you trained. Was it in Salgaria or Opistan?”

  “I did not train at an assassins guild,” said Margret.

  “This one thinks you lie,” spoke another.

  Margret noticed there was no inflection in either of the assassins’ voices, nothing that she would be able to use to recognize them if she happened to speak to them outside of a fight.

  “I do not lie,” she said, “as I am no assassin. Do you not recognize me?”

  “This one recognizes you,” said another of the assassins as they took turns speaking. “This one knows you as the princess from Aarlund, she who is named Margret, daughter of Cormac.”

  Margret acknowledged her name with the smallest tilt of her head.

  “This one knows there are no assassins guilds in Aarlund,” spoke the fourth assassin. “This one wonders how you know our ways.”

  “I know of no assassins’ ways,” she said. “I was trained by my father’s men-at-arms in all forms of weaponry and fighting.”

  The assassins murmured among themselves so that she could not hear, even with the help of her circlet. And, she suspected, even if she could, she would not have been able to understand their unique language.

  The first assassin said: “This one believes the mother of the Sorceress is now dead.”

  “Now it is you who lies,” growled Margret. “I sense the slightest waver in your voice, there is doubt in your words. You have no way of knowing if Queen Astrid has been murdered by your brothers.”

  “This one knows we were merely a feint,” said a different assassin. “This one knows we were sent here to distract you and your friends. This one knows where the mother of the Sorceress was always hiding. This one has always known.”

  And with that, all four threw something on the ground that exploded, causing thick smoke to appear.

  The smoke was so dense, Margret could not see through it. Even with her enhanced eyesight, she barely made out the forms of the four assassins as they leapt through the open window.

  She hurled her daggers at them but when the smoke cleared, she saw that all she had hit were curtains, her daggers dangling from the fabric.

  The bedroom door finally crashed inwards. The guards came to an awkward stop upon seeing Princess Margret glare back at them and not Queen Astrid.

  The guards decided it was still best to go to bended knee. “Princess Margret,” said one, “we did not think you were here. We heard great fighting from the hall but were unable to break down the door. Is our queen safe?”

  “I worry she is not,” murmured Margret pulling her daggers free from the curtains.

  A portal rune appeared without warning in the middle of the bedroom with Nas, Farling, Grum, and Arastead standing in the middle.

  Nas demanded: “What of the assassins!”

  “Gone!” snapped Margret, hurrying towards the door. “It was a ruse, meant to draw us away from the queen. Why did you not answer me when I first reached out to you?”

  “My apologies, princess,” said Nas, chastened. “The guild exists in another realm. I could hear you but could not reach out to you.”

  Margret stopped and faced Nas. Said: “Then what took you so long? I fought those assassins after I reached out to you.”

  Nas stammered, and unnatural thing for him to do: “We came as soon we could, but there appeared to be a problem with the portal rune.”

  “I can answer,” said Arastead. “Our apologies, princess, but as Nas mentioned, as soon as you communicated with him, I activated the portal rune. It was but mere seconds after you reached out. But the portal rune magic did not work properly. It was as if the road was busy with other people travelling by portal rune. We had to wait until the coast was clear, so to speak. And I worry we may not travel back by portal rune.”

  Margret bit her lip as tears of frustration welled in her eyes. “The Queen is in danger,” she said. “We must make haste. You two,” she yelled at the guards as she wiped the tears away, “follow us!”

  And they all ran towards the thieves guild.

  CHAPTER 9

  Queen Astrid and the Thieves Guild

  Queen Astrid looked around at the bedroom furnishings provided by the thieves of Trondheim. The bedroom was one of the largest in the thieves guild. She was not too sure whose room this had been, or if it had been someone’s room, but she was impressed by the carpets, couches, chairs, and 4-poster bed. Most of the furniture looked quite familiar, almost a little too familiar as if most of it had been at one time in the castle.

  “Are you comfortable?” asked Pressan.

  “I am,” said Astrid. “The fireplace, I was meaning to ask, it looks quite old, almost an old, forgotten design.”
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br />   “Ah yes,” began Pressan as he took off his glasses and cleaned them, “there are some ideas about this guild, and how old the building really is. One theory is that it was not always a thieves guild. Some suspect it was once in the realm of Asgard, and when Asgard fell, some buildings wound up in Midgard. Although this building never quite made it the entire way and so is only accessible by portal. The Knights Stable was also supposedly a stable in Asgard. The story goes that that is why the roof of the Knights Stable is open so the Valkyries on their winged horses could fly in. And Odin’s fabled eight-legged horse also supposedly stabled there.”

  Pressan put his glasses back on and ran a hand over some of the carvings on the fireplace. “If I were to hazard a guess, I would assume this is elven design. In all my years and all my travels, I have never seen any similar carvings. The elves and the Northern gods had quite the falling out.”

  “I think that is an understatement, Master Pressan. The elves were so furious at Odin, they ravaged Midgard, and fought the wizards and heroes of that era. And it was not the gods who banished the elves back to the realm of Alfheim, it was wizards.”

  “You know your history, Queen Astrid.”

  “Ogre Mage has begun his teachings with me. Part of his lessons includes history.”

  “Have you discussed any history about the Sorceress?”

  Astrid absentmindedly rubbed her slightly protruding tummy feeling her baby’s movements.

  “We spoke.” Her face darkened. “A Sorceress is powerful, almost too powerful. It is said a Sorceress can rip the Norse realms apart. She may even challenge the Norns, she has that much magic.”

  “Did he mention why a Sorceress has returned to the realms?”