BTtNR - Book 2 - Chapter 010 - Freyr (Patreon)

A cool breeze came from inside the temple, not cold but just the right temperature that it felt soothing.  

Different scents filled the air as a low cloud of smoke floated about ten feet off the ground, a large thirty foot ceiling high above.  

Carvings of Freyr were in stone or in the tree, hard to distinguish as sometimes it felt impossible to know which part of the temple was bark or rock.

Water bubbled up from a spot and small streams snaked in different directions, some covered with tiny bridges, others requiring one to step over the small six inch wide trail.  Moss grew, bowls of grain and fruits were all over and off near the end, standing before a stone relief of Freyer was an elf, eyes covered with a strip of white cloth, yet staring right at them.  

Their hand rested upon a pair of roots that had coiled around the feet of the statue, rising up about three feet before plunging back into the dirt.

“Ithil,” Thorve whispered.

His robe was open at the chest, revealing a body that was not at all one Einar had imagined seeing on an elf supposedly over five hundred years old.

His chest and core was toned, no fat showing and ripped with a body many men would gladly have.  Those arms that hung casually from his broad shoulders screamed of strength, even though the white robe hid them.

Their guide turned and held up two fingers before motioning them to follow.

Varitan and Lyeneru moved side by side and the others mimicked them.

Birds began to chirp and a few flew overhead, circling and calling out before flying elsewhere in the temple, eyes trained on them as they moved.

About ten yards away, their guide stopped and bowed low, motioning with their hand for them to continue.

Varitan moved to the left as Lyeneru moved right, allowing space for the five Vikings to spread out and stand before the elf who still had not said a single word or even moved.

Seconds passed.  Soon it had been almost a minute yet no one spoke.

Both of their guides stood there, head bent slightly, mouths closed.

Thorve copied their stance and Einar who stood in the middle nodded for the others to do so.

Soon only he was there, head held high, eyes locked on the spiritual guide for the elves in this town.

“You do not bend your head.”

A deep voice came and seemed to almost echo in the room around them.

“Do you feel you are worthy to stand before me? Should I bend my neck and acknowledge you?  Tell me, Einar Sibbison, one who is touched by Odin and with a shadow over what the Norns have done, why have you come?”

“I mean no disrespect to you or to Freyr.  I am here to help the elves with some of the things that plague their land and steal the breath in their bodies.  Too long has passed since Vikings have done their job and now my pack and I must make up for that, all while preparing for what we know is coming.”

The room shifted and Einar recognized that like Odin’s temple, whatever was taking place between him and Ithil was private right now.  No one appeared to be breathing.  None had reacted at all to any word spoken.

“Ragnarok… it has been coming since the day the realms were made.  Even before then it was set and what makes you believe you can stop that which is foretold?”

“Would you rather I not attempt to stop it? Instead should I let your people and others suffer because we did not do the job given to us by Odin? Would you yourself stop the rains because you know there will be a change in season where crops will die?”

The corner of Ithil’s lips rose, a smile starting to form.

“Shall we ask questions to answer each other all day? Will that give either of us the knowledge we seek?”

“How can I, a Viking who feels your eyes upon me know that answer?”

Deep laughter came and washed over Einar as Ithil took his hands off the roots, crossing his arms.

“Very well. I can see the boons each of you carry, some much stronger than others.  My servant shall speak on your behalf to those of his city and ensure they know what you have said is true.  There is much you will need to overcome before my children open their arms to your kind again.  Perhaps you can be the tree that grows.”

Suddenly the elf stopped talking and laughed again, moving his hands to the cloth over his eyes and took it off.

Gold, glowing eyes shone with power and the body of the elf began to glow with a white aura, almost appearing like the moon at night.

“I cannot read you like those standing beside you.  It is as if a mist surrounds you and now I see even more threads.  Each one moves in a different direction.”

The god possessed elf frowned, holding out a glowing hand which grew brighter.

Something tugged at his chest and then a few sparks began to leap from where the place Odin had merged the rune with his body.

“Impossible… that should not–”

The ground shook and a solid stream of colored rainbows appeared on the ground near Einar.  It was only a few inches wide and everything inside him wanted to reach out and touch it, yet something warned him against it.

“You dare attempt to do that to one I have marked?!”

Wincing from the sound of the voice he recognized, Einar felt Odin’s presence even if he wasn’t there.

“What fool would do such a thing?! This is your doing! What I sense is why the darkness has grown! Are you that desperate or do you believe this Viking is truly worthy of all the lives that have been lost for your one action?!”

Everything seemed to vibrate as the world felt ready to be torn apart.

“This one is our last chance, Freyr. I am tired and soon shall sleep for a while.  When the horn sounds, he must be there.  He must be ready.”

The glare that had been focused on the rainbow light vanished from Ithil’s face.  The golden eyes faded some and the aura began to diminish.  Both hands moved to return cloth over the elf’s eyes.

“A gamble… yet with your wisdom and knowledge if you say those words, then it must be true.  I shall prepare my people.  They shall be ready on the day the horn sounds and I will do what I can to influence them to assist this warrior.”

The light that was piercing the temple began to shrink, getting thinner and duller as the rainbow started to fade away.

“Einar you must accomplish your plan here.  One more thing remains and then revisit me.  The strings will guide you. I cannot alter anything else.”

Odin’s voice faded away at the end as the rainbow vanished.  

Somehow the temple seemed emptier.  

Einar felt the threads that Freyr and Odin had talked about.  Everyday he felt them.  

“I need to let this one be or I shall sap the strength he has been granted.  Seek me in the capital. If you achieve the quest you have set before you, I shall find a way to reward you without endangering more lives.”

Both of Ithil’s hands found their original spot on the roots and the room shifted.

“They have been marked. The gods have touched them.  Let all the elves know they are our friends.”

Ithil’s voice was croaky, weak and old.  Like a man who had been in a desert, seeking water, the raspy sound almost didn’t register in Einar’s ears.

“This way.”

Behind him the one who had led them had their arm outstretched, pointing at the door.

Giving one last look at Ithil, Einar bent his neck slightly and then turned, walking with purpose as he strode toward the exit.

***

“You are quiet,” Varitan said.  “Tell me, what is it that has your tongue?”

Forcing a smile, Einar tapped his chin as his horse moved along the road.

“I’m wondering how long it will take to accomplish everything we need to here.  Time seems different when one is young and there is so much to live toward, yet now I feel that time is moving too quickly again.”

“Again?”

Realizing he had slipped up, he nodded and plowed ahead.

“Coming here felt like time was slowing down, but now that we have been declared friends of your people, we will be moving around.  There are dozens of things we need to collect and accomplish, all before I must return and meet our King.”

“Is that a bad thing? Your face… you winced slightly.”

Cursing to himself inside, Einar tried to figure out how much that interaction and the words both gods had spoken shook him.  

“If your king told you that he wanted you to serve under him, yet everything inside your heart said to be free, what would be your answer?”

Varitan frowned, then bit on his lip, his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching for a few seconds.

“That is not a position anyone would want to be in.  Our King once would never have made that request unless he was certain you wanted to be by his side.  Now… He might make that request and the expectation would be you stayed with him.  If what I sense is your position, I can understand how hard all this must be.  Tell me, will you say no?”

“I am doing everything in my power to make it where he cannot ask that question.  Because I will say no if he asks and no good will come from that rejection.”

Neither man said anything the rest of the ride back to the warehouse, each understanding the noose that felt like it was tightening around Einar’s neck.

Perhaps I should laugh, Odin.  Afterall, you are the god of the hanged.

***

Ignoring the grumbling Thorodd had done, Einar found the vegetables the elves had cooked and brought to them amazing.  Each one had a different texture and were layered in such a way, each bite was different.  Crunchy, chewy, and crisp.  Salt and sweet played with the hint of spice.

Pushing the third bowl he had consumed away, Einar looked at the papers he had just finished reading and then up at Varitan.

“How much would you say we have earned so far in the way of bartering for the supplies on the list before you?”

“Not as much as I’m sure you hope.  Some of these things I can easily acquire while others are going to require a trip to the capital.  If you are willing to sell or trade the trophies you have earned, that will help but even then, you simply want too much!”

Chuckles came from his second in command as the large man shrugged.

“We’ll need a few extra carts and some of those fine elven horses as well.  Don’t let Einar fool you, there are about four more pages of things we want, but everything before you is a need.”

Clearing his throat, Varitan took a drink and shook his head.

“You will need to help a lot more than if that is the case.  There are some troubling pests not too far from the city that we can attempt in the coming days.  After we meet up with Nissa tomorrow.”

Cracking his neck and stretching, Einar organized the papers into a neat pile and handed them back to Thorodd.

“Then tomorrow we’ll be ready to meet with the head of your city.  After that we will be ready to leave.  Tell me, is getting to use one of the blacksmith houses still an option?”

“Lyeneru is working on that side.  I need to turn in and we shall return in the morning.  I’ll be here two hours after the sun has risen.  Do you need anything else?”

“Just that alcohol you promised!” Thorodd exclaimed as Varitan started to stand.  “I cannot wait to taste what I hear is a gift from Freyr!”

“Vikings,” the elf muttered. “It’s good to know that two of the things we’ve always heard about are true… their love of alcohol and fighting.”

Both Vikings laughed as their guide waved goodnight, heading toward the exit of the building.

After he was gone, Thorodd turned to Einar.

“How much shit have we stepped in?”

Tapping the stack of papers he had put near his large friend, Einar sighed.

“We’re going to need a few wagons to clear the pile we stepped in.  Tell the men that in the coming months we shall all earn a place in every Longhouse, ale house and place where Vikings gather to tell stories.  We shall cleanse this land of everything we can, bringing back enough supplies to craft runes for us all.”

Every tooth Thorodd owned was present, none able to hide behind his beard as the large man grinned.

“May Odin guide our steps and Thor direct our weapons.”

Laughing, Thorodd turned and held his hands up in the air, moving toward the fire where the other nine men sat.

“Rest up warriors! Soon we shall create a river of red in this land, slaughtering every beast and returning home as legends, guaranteed to get even the ugly ones like Hallad laid!”

Cheers and laughter fought for prominence as each Viking longed for their next battle.

Einar had promised them glory and power.

All they had to do was be willing to bleed and die for it.