Pyramid Power: Chapter Twenty One

    It was a cold clear night. You could actually hear the frost-crisp grass crunching under the horses hooves. Loki noticed it and laughed. “Fimbulwinter. Loki is free. The clouds are massing in the west.”

    Thrúd’s face, white in the moonlight, looked as if it had somehow gone a paler shade. “No!” she said.

    Loki shrugged. “It will mean the return of Baldr.”

    Thrúd scowled at him. “Is there any bit of mischief and gossip you don’t know, Uncle Fox? It was just a little-girl crush. I had one on you, too.”

    “What appalling taste you had, girl,” said Loki. “Anyway, I am willing to avoid Ragnarok if I can.”

    “The question,” said Sigyn, “is whether Ragnarok is willing to avoid you. Great magics are tied to the Time.”

    Loki raised an eyebrow. “I don’t play with great magics, lady-wife. That’s One-eye’s province.”

    “Exactly,” said Sigyn. “A reason to be suspicious, especially after what Jerry told us.”

    “About what?” asked Liz trying not to shiver. This was no weather for damp skirts, whatever Fimbulwinter and this Ragnarok were.

    “About being trapped in a cycle, which repeated and repeated to give power to some foreign god. The ‘Krim,’ he called it.”

    Thrúd peered intently at her. “It does have a strange feeling that I have been here before. But I remember great Bilskríner becoming a place of ruins.”

    “It’s true enough,” said Liz. “Jerry and I and our friends fought the Krim before. We defeated it… but it fled. This is obviously where it came to. It re-activates old myths. Old beliefs. Jerry’s the expert. All I can say is that I’m very cold.”

    “Bilskríner lies just ahead,” said Thrúd comfortingly.

 

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    Lamont Jackson was almost beside himself with worry. Should he leave the children in the care of a pair of monsters and go and look for Marie… and Liz too? The waiting was going to kill him, for sure.

    The sound of hooves was a welcome one. Even bad news had to be better than no news. It took him a few seconds to realize that there was more than one horse out there. He wondered if he should find a weapon… and then Liz came in.

    With several others.

    Not Marie.

    He forced himself to be as calm as possible. “What news?”

    Liz took a deep breath. “Well, she’s not dead, Lamont. Thrúd here saw her. But I couldn’t rescue her. Odin has put her into a kind of suspended animation. She’s in, well, like a coma, inside a wall of flames on a mountaintop.”

    It was Lamont’s turn to take a deep breath. “At least she’s not dead. Come in to the fire, Liz. You’re blue with cold.”

    She nodded weakly. “I think I’m about to fall off this horse.”

    Lamont caught her, set her on her feet, gave her his arm to lean on. “Let’s go into the main hall and the warmth and we can get introduced. Thor is still out of it. That stuff was distilled, and potent as hell,” he said, grimly.

    Lodin arrived, and beamed at the stocky individual in the sort of tied up rags that the local peasants seemed to wear. “Lady Thrúd,” he said, bowing respectfully. “Whose horses are these?”

    “Einherjar’s, Stumpy. See that they’re well rubbed down and that they have some oats. We’ll turn them out at first light. It is too cold outside now.”

 

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    Thrúd was a little worried by these strangers that had taken over her father’s hall. They seemed a little short of respect for Papa-Thor. But she could always re-establish that! He didn’t seem to be too good at doing it himself these days, she admitted ruefully. She remembered how it once had been. At the same time she began to remember what it had become. It was strange how that memory had faded, of the immortal Ás trapped in the downward spiral of Asgard. That was when Papa-Thor’s drinking had really got out of hand. That hadn’t changed. Well. If these strangers—she really was not at all sure they were black elves—could help, then a little disrespect was a small price to pay.

    They walked through into the main hall, where a number of small trees were blazing merrily in the hearth. Three children were fast asleep against dread Fenrir’s side. The wolf was trying to look as if he was quite unaware that the girl-child—who looked remarkably like the woman sent to be a stand-in for Brynhild the Valkyrie—didn’t have an arm around his neck. The fourth was sleepily looking at them from next to the great Jörmungand. Two other men in roughly cobbled furs were fiddling about with some strange helmet on a table off to one side.

    “Any news?” asked the black-elf boy who was still awake.

    “Well, Marie is still alive,” said the black-elf man whom Liz had addressed as Lamont. “But she’s trapped behind a wall of flame in a coma.”

    The boy began to cry. Big tears starting suddenly from eyes that had had the Loki-flame of rebellion and trouble moments before. “I never even had a chance to say…” his chin quivered and he dissolved into a flood of tears.

    Lamont went over and put an arm around him. “Easy, Emmitt. It’s not that kind of coma.” Plainly, by his voice, he was hurting too.

    Close family ties, plainly. That was good. Thrúd approved. “It is a magical sleep, child. If the thorn of sleep is drawn out, she will wake. Even if a thousand years have passed.”

    “And we’ll get her free,” said Liz. “And get it out of her. Promise.”

    “You have Loki to help. And what is a wall of flame to me?” said a man who had entered behind them.

    Both the Midgard Serpent and Fenrir surged to meet him. The wolf suddenly realizing he had children using him as a hassock, stopped dead, and waited until Lamont set them down. Then Fenrir danced around him and Sigyn like a terrible puppy-dog, jumping over the sinuous coils of Jörmungand.

    “I thought that it was extra cold tonight,” said Fenrir, panting. “Fimbulwinter comes!” There was red joy in his eyes.

    Then in walked Thor, bleary-eyed and puzzled looking.

    “Papa-Thor,” said Thrúd, going to hug him.

    “Hello, littlest one,” he said squeezing her back. “Were is your mama? And where is Marie?”

    Emmitt was not yet entirely recovered from his emotional shock. He walked up to Thor. “You,” he said, waggling a forefinger. “I thought you were Thor. But you were so weak you couldn’t even stop them kidnapping Marie. You can’t not drink, can you? I thought you were someone I could rely on.” His tone was bitter, plainly hurt to the core.

    “Sif told me it was medicine. It would stop me craving drink,” Thor said humbly. “Look…. I won’t do it again.”

    The black-elf boy looked him in the eye. “Promise?” he sighed. “My mama promised.” It was plainly something too painful to think about, by the way he bit his lip.

    Thor nodded. “It’s not easy. But if you’ll help me, boy… I’ll do it.”

    The boy looked at huge papa-Thor. The lad had good shoulders on him when he put them back like that. He looked for a long time. Then he said: “Deal.”

    “You can train him up as warrior,” said Thrúd. “It’ll keep you busy. Get you to lose some of that”—she poked him in the belly—”because Fimbulwinter is here. So is Loki.”

    Thrúd was not too sure what she expected from her father at this point. Actually, she had to admit that her feelings were a mess. Trust Loki to stir everything up, especially the bit about Baldr. But he had been, to all intents and purposes, a sort of uncle all her life. He’d helped her out, and helped Thor out and, for that matter Odin, and half a dozen others out, and saved Freyja, and helped Thor recover Mjöllnir.

    Yes, he’d caused a fair number of problems too. But she knew Thor considered the defense of Asgard a sacred trust—even if he seemed to be giving house room to two of the Asinjur’s greatest enemies, Jörmungand and Fenrir. It was he who had put a sword in Fenrir’s jaws, and very nearly caught Jörmungand while fishing, after all. And now he seemed unsurprised to see them here.

    She was surprised to see her father looking embarrassed and uneasy. “I didn’t know what he planned to do,” said Thor. “Odin told me what you’d said about Sif. And Baldr.”

    “Well, I did say it,” said Loki, obviously not going to give Thor any room for comfort.

    “I had to do something after that,” said Thor. “But I thought it would be a good beating…”

    Loki shrugged. “He would never have caught me without your strength, red-beard.”

    “I know. But I should have stayed after you were caught in the net. Heimdall was getting up my nose, and I thought I should get out of there before I hit him. He’s the All-father’s favorite… And someone offered me mead.” Thor sighed. “It was true about Baldr, though? You caused his death.”

    “It was all true, and that was true too. But I had reason. And I had help. Help that betrayed me. Help that I will destroy.” Loki smiled thinly, viciously. “And while I might have sent Baldr to Helheim, I wasn’t the one who kept him there. I swear to it.”

    Everyone had assumed that the giantess Thökk—who had refused to weep for Baldr, and thereby condemned him to remain in Helheim—had been Loki in disguise. So who had it been then?

    Thor looked troubled. “Sigyn. What is this all about?”

    Thrúd had a terrible feeling that she knew, now why Loki had done it. But Papa-Thor was in no condition to go and fight Odin, and all the other Asinjur who would rally to him. She just hoped Sigyn wasn’t going to give it all away.

    Yet.

    She’d have to explain it to him sometime, and it wasn’t going to be easy. Everything that Loki had said at the flyting was true. Even the parts about her mother, which were painfully obvious now that she’d seen Sif with Odin.

 

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    Sigyn held out her hands. “I am not being drawn into this, Thor. But you know Loki. He is not an oathbreaker. A trickster, yes. But he does not lie to you. He had reasons.”

    Thor sighed. “What you said about me was true, Loki. Hurtful but true. But I can’t let you loose to bring Ragnarok.”

    “What I said about everyone was true. I left some of the best bits out though,” said Loki with a wicked grin. “I’m saving those. But I’ve had a little talk with a sorcerer. A little Midgard fellow who called himself Jerry.”

    Thor shook his head. “I knew a Jelling once. At a place in Jutland.”

    “Not quite the same, red-beard. This Jerry talked me into forgoing Ragnarok and settling for revenge.”

    Thor shook his head. “Can’t be done. You know Odin as well as I do. He’d rather bring Ragnarok than lose. Loki, I must hold you. This time I’ll see to it that it’s at least comfortable. Otherwise… give it up. Give me your word and go into exile in Midgard. It’s not so bad. I spent a few years cadging drinks there. I’ll be going too. This mortal’s wife”—he pointed at Lamont—” was captured and taken from my house. I owe him a double debt: for the evil done to his wife and for help that she has given me. I honor my debts.”

    Loki shook his head ruefully. “You never change, old friend. You remain honorable… and a bit dim. Has it occurred to you that you’re standing with my son and my daughter, and without Mjöllnir, or the Menginjörd, or the gauntlets of iron, or Grid’s rod?”

    “He has me,” said Thrúd.

    “And me,” said the boy black-elf.

    Liz walked into the fray. “Excuse me,” she said, crossly. “Stop this, right now.”

    She turned on Loki. “You owe Jerry. He got you out of your prison. You owe it to him to get him out. You won’t do that by starting a fight with my friends. Now just put a plug in it. You’ve been looking for a fight ever since you got here. And Thor, I know Jerry Lukacs. Trust me, just because you can’t think of how to do something, doesn’t mean he can’t. Jerry has out-thought two sets of gods already. So you just concentrate on hard stuff like staying sober, and then if Jerry can’t produce, then you worry about it. Got me?”

    Whatever else Papa-Thor had got, he hadn’t quite gotten used to women like this. He gaped.

    But Loki started to laugh. “You know, Öku-Thor, she’s right. I was looking for a fight, I suppose. And yes, this Jerry was clever enough to get me free. That means that he is technically cleverer than me, because I couldn’t.”

    “And Papa-Thor,” said Thrúd, taking the bit between her teeth, “Uncle Fox was telling the truth about mama.”

    “I know, little one,” said Thor gently. “I’m not all that clever, but I knew something was going on. He didn’t have to shame her in public though. Things… things haven’t been too good between your mama and me for some time now. But she’s still my wife.”

    Thrúd took a deep breath. “And… maybe… I think I understand about Baldr. It… well, it was my fault, papa.”

    “Oh, I had my own axe to grind too, Thrúd,” said Loki. “And don’t pester Thrúd about it, Thor. We all do things we regret later. I’m an expert at it.”

    Thrúd found herself getting a squeeze from her father. “If I understand this right, and I’m not quick about these things, it’s a good thing Loki got to him first. And you can tell me about it if you want to, when you want to. It’s over now.”

    “Even Mjöllnir wouldn’t have hurt Baldr, Thor,” said Loki. 

    “Umph,” grunted Thor irritably, knitting his brow. “True. You could have told me, though.”

    “I don’t want to rub you up the wrong way, old friend, but I do things my way, and you do them in yours—which is charging in like a bull at a gate. That wouldn’t have worked.”

    “This is very interesting,” said Liz, “and you can all talk about your misunderstandings, and kiss and make up… later. Jerry is still a captive over there. We’ve got that horn. We need to arrange a trade. And we need to rescue Marie.”

    “Horn?”

    “That gold-toothed creep’s tootle-pipe,” said Liz.

    Loki nodded cheerfully. “Heimdall must be swearing most beautifully by now. Take my advice, Thor. If that wench kisses you, don’t hold her, hold onto your pouch with one hand and your hammer with the other or she’ll steal both.”

    Thor rubbed his head. “This is all too fast for me. Let’s take it slowly. The All-father has this Jerry prisoner. You have Heimdall’s horn. You want to exchange the two.”

    “Yep,” said Liz. “For starters anyway.”

    “Well, I’m not that clever,” said Thor, “but I think most of the Asinjur will just come here and take it from you, and imprison you or kill you.”

    “Even here? Take someone from Bilskríner?” Thrúd said, incredulously.

    Thor nodded gloomily. “Loki’s right about the state of things. My halls are empty of warriors. I don’t know what’s happened to the belt of strength. I can’t find my iron gauntlets. I’m afraid I, uh sold Mjöllnir for drink. And Odin can call to muster all the Ás, all the Vanir. I don’t have a lot of friends left. I know. It’s my own fault.”

    “Well, it’s gonna change,” said Emmitt belligerently.

    Loki nodded. “Well said, boy. But for now, we need to flee this place. There are places in Midgard and yes, in Jotunheim, where we can find shelter. Where even the Ás will not follow. And there is always Helheim.”

    Thor shuddered.

    “There is just one awkward detail. We have to get there,” said Jörmungand. “And getting out of the gates of Asgard could be tricky. I can go by water, but you can’t.”

    Thor shrugged. “We hitch my goats to the chariot, and charge.”

    “And end up full of Ull’s arrows,” said Loki, “spitted on one-eye’s spear, and getting chopped into dog-gobbets by Heimdall and the rest of the Einherjar. Remember we have mortals here. And they can be killed very easily.”

    Thor sighed. “All right, Loki. You always come up with some sort of plan. I am just not dressing up in women’s clothes and pretending to be Freyja again.”

    Loki chuckled. “But you looked so good in a dress. You’ve got such pretty ankles.”

    Thor took a swing at him.

    “He’s just teasing you papa.”

    “I know. But it’s like that damned punning. The only way to get him to stop is to hit him.”

    “Punnish him,” said Lamont.

    Liz groaned.

    Loki smiled. “And you must be Lamont. Jerry said you were a man after my own heart, but hopefully not on a platter. He also said that you were a practical man. How would you get us out?”

    Lamont shrugged. “Camouflage. The ladies dresses might even work, but I also swore that they’d never get me to do it again. A distraction would help. A few smoke grenades. I gather archery is problem. Something to keep the heads down for a bit. Are these gates closed?”

    Thor nodded. “Between dawn and dusk, yes.”

    “And when do you think they’ll get here?” asked Liz.

    “Possibly before dawn. Not much, though. They will assume that Loki has taken one of his forms and flown. After first light someone may track the missing horses.”

    “But it is pretty dark out there. We can go out and get ready to rock and roll on those gates at dawn,” said Lamont. “Now, we’re going need to get some things ready. Have you got a smithy and some tools?”

    “And how do we stop them chasing straight after us?” asked Liz.

    Loki shrugged. “Let them try.”

    “I plan to discourage it,” said Lamont.

    Thrúd had more faith in the black-elf. Loki tended to leave the ends of his plans to chance.