The Hammer of Thor Read online

Page 12


  Phoenix was surprised and a little guilty when one of the packs opened to reveal two tents made of thin, waterproofed leather. It was certainly a change from sleeping in makeshift lean-to’s or caves and a very welcome relief from the chilly spring night air.

  Marcus and Brynn took charge of cooking, bantering light-heartedly over who would clean up afterward. Jade, still subdued, didn’t protest. Phoenix eyed her uncertainly. He definitely wasn’t going to ask why she wasn’t cooking as she usually preferred to. He might not read books but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask a modern girl why she wasn’t doing domestic chores. She’d probably whack him over the head with her quarterstaff and call him a pig – or worse, turn him into one. That didn’t change the fact that he was worried about her.

  The night was perfectly clear and calm. Stars glittered brightly until a gibbous moon rose to dim them. The companions set watches, as usual. Truda was the only one exempt. When told, she complained so much that Jade eventually sighed and agreed to let her stay up with Brynn for first watch. Then she slipped quietly away into one of the tents.

  Marcus, Phoenix and Brynn exchanged concerned looks. Phoenix raked a hand through his hair and decided there wasn’t much they could do. He went to the other tent. It was still early but there wasn’t a whole lot to do other than sit around watching the campfire and stress about stuff over which he had no control. Anyway, he was tired enough to welcome the extra sleep.

  The night passed and they were disturbed only by the distant sound of a single, lonely wolf-howl. Phoenix took last watch, shivering in the early morning chill, poking at the fire and watching yet another spectacular sunrise. At least this time there were no rocks falling on his head.

  They had breakfasted and were striking camp when Jade held up a hand for silence. Obediently, the others stopped. She listened for a moment; an intent look on her face that made her sharp, Elven features seem strangely pronounced. Then her eyes widened and she stared across at Phoenix.

  “There’s a horse coming fast,” she glanced over her shoulder, “from the direction of Olshamarr.”

  Phoenix grimaced. “Marcus, would you please go out to the road and wait for it while we finish packing? It’s probably nothing but if it is a messenger for us then he’ll go right past.”

  The Roman nodded and disappeared into the pine forest. Jade sent Phoenix a stricken look that showed just how bad she felt about leaving the villagers. He gestured for Brynn to keep packing the gear and sent her a reassuring smile.

  “It’s probably nothing. Could be someone sending for a midwife; a bandit attack; just a message for the next village – the Queen suddenly craving blueberries,” he said, trying to sound positive. Inside, he couldn’t ignore a sinking feeling that it was something quite different.

  “Yes,” Jade said quietly. “It could.”

  For the next several moments, no one spoke. They all went about their duties silently, listening for the sound of hoofbeats. Sure enough, within seconds they could all hear what Jade had picked up: the sounds of a horse galloping full pace down the road, heading north. Abruptly, they thudded to a stop and Jade lifted worried eyes toward the road.

  Marcus appeared again, followed by a breathless messenger boy leading a sweating horse. The Roman shook his head gravely as he entered the clearing.

  “We must return. The village has been attacked. Hrothgar is slain. Grendel’s mother has taken her revenge.”

  “Ásúlfr? The Queen?” Jade’s hushed question fell in the silence that followed. The messenger held up a reassuring hand and nodded.

  “By virtue of his new health, he was able to escape, my lady. He lives, as do the Queen, the princess and the young princes but twenty thanes and warriors were slain as they slept in the great hall, Heorot, last night. Hrothgar took a party and followed the beast back to its lair but he was killed when they attacked it.” The boy swallowed and scrubbed tears from his red face. “My brother was the only survivor. He sent me to fetch you and beg you to help us once more, Trollslayers.” His blue eyes beseeched them as he glanced back and forth between Marcus and Phoenix.

  Phoenix sighed, glanced at Marcus, then drew Jade and Brynn nearer for a whispered conference. Truda sat on a stump looking mulishly annoyed.

  “I hate to go backwards. We ought to be getting on with finding Asgard. We’ve only got two days left, remember,” Phoenix murmured. Marcus frowned and Brynn scowled. Jade looked outraged.

  “You can’t mean it, Phoenix,” she hissed. “It’s our fault those people are dead. We have to help them.”

  He grimaced. “I know how you feel, Jade but remember where we are and who they are.” He tapped the amulet lying beneath his shirt and rolled his eyes significantly, trying to remind her that they were just part of a digital world, not a real one. She had to be objective about this. If she kept getting emotionally involved with the characters in this game, they’d end up taking forever to get to Level Five if it were even possible. “We have to get Truda home before her birthday, remember?”

  “No, Jade is right,” Marcus disagreed. “It’s our duty to help these people. I could not be easy if we left without trying. I don’t believe you could, either.” The Roman gazed straitly at Phoenix, his dark eyes solemn.

  Brynn hesitated, one hand covering a pocket possessively. Jade glared at him. Finally he sighed and shrugged. “I guess we could go back if we have to.”

  Phoenix echoed his sigh. This ‘do the right thing’ stuff was going to get them all killed one of these days. Having a conscience was a pain in the butt. Logically, he knew that their best option was to go ahead to Uppsala without wasting time but that was just too cold-blooded for any of them.

  “Alright, we go back but,” he raised a warning finger, “if we try and it looks like we have no hope of killing this thing, we evacuate the village and get the heck out of there. Agreed? We don’t want to lose anyone on this little side trip.”

  The other three exchanged glances and nodded.

  So they turned deaf ears to Truda’s complaints, packed and rode as fast as they could south, toward Olshamarr.

  After a while, they decided to put Brynn and Truda on the packhorses and ride on ahead. Brynn protested until Phoenix laid a heavy hand on his thin shoulder.

  “I’m asking you to take care of Truda, Brynn,” Phoenix ordered. “You know she’s the most valuable thing we have. She’s the whole purpose of this quest. We have to take care of her, first.” He tightened his grip until the boy winced. “We need to help these people, too. You ride with Truda and the messenger. He’ll find you somewhere safe to stay outside the village until we come back. Guard her with your life, Brynn. We’re counting on you. Plus,” he grinned, “I’m not sure you really want to go back to the village anyway, do you?”

  After a brief attempt to look innocent, Brynn had the grace to give an ashamed shrug and a half-grin. Turning serious, he glanced at Truda, nodded curtly and gripped Phoenix’s forearm. He set his jaw and turned away to clamber onto the pony without another word. His dark eyes were fierce with awareness of his new duty, one hand clamped onto his new sword.

  Marcus lifted Truda up on the packhorse, tucking her in amongst their baggage. She grumbled bitterly the whole time until Marcus gave her a stern look and a short, sharp lecture on how a goddess should behave toward her people. After that, she subsided, bottom lip quivering. The messenger led her horse and Brynn’s as neither knew how to ride well enough to control their mounts. After giving the village boy final instructions, Jade, Marcus and Phoenix put heels to their horses’ flanks and galloped toward Olshamarr.

  Rank upon rank of huge, sombre pines zipped past, even as time seemed to drag. To Phoenix, it seemed to take forever to cover the distance back to Olshamarr. Shoulder to shoulder with Jade’s fleet roan mare, his grey stallion flew over the rutted dirt track. Close behind, Marcus’ bay pushed to keep up.

  Finally, they slowed to a trot as the village came in sight. Even from a distance they could see the destruction wrought by
the troll. Houses were flattened as though the beast had simply kicked down the thick walls. Workshops and stables were just piles of matchstick tinder. High on the hill a column of black smoke rose above Heorot. In the village, people either wandered about as though they had no idea where to start; or worked tirelessly, with blank expressions, to restore their property.

  As the three companions approached, Ásúlfr came striding toward them, his face alight with relief. Beneath that, Phoenix could see pain and remembrance of fear and suffering that would last for years. A baby wailed somewhere nearby.

  Jade clutched at his arm, her expression distraught. “If we hadn’t rushed off yesterday we’d have been here to help them last night, Phoenix. We have to make things right.”

  He nodded, knowing there was no argument this time. They shouldn’t have left.

  “Well, we’ve done it once, we can do it again.” He swung down off his horse and squared his shoulders, clenching his teeth against bile that rose at the sight of the devastation in the village. “And this time we’ll have your help, too, so it should be easier.”

  Jade’s fingers tightened. He looked down to see her guilt had turned to fear.

  “But you said my magic won’t work against a troll, Phoenix.” Her nails dug into his arm. “I can’t help you. Grendel’s mother is supposed to be even worse than Grendel….and I can’t do anything!”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Much later that day, led by the sole survivor of Hrothgar’s doomed group, the three companions, Ásúlfr and a party of ten warriors rode the last few metres toward the enormous lake east of Olshamarr. They dismounted at the top of a rocky cliff overlooking the water.

  Jade followed Phoenix and Marcus toward the edge, away from the warparty. Silently, the three stared down. Below was a small, stony cove. A tiny stream trickled down a deep gorge to spill sparkling droplets into the lake’s dark waters. It was late afternoon now, and the surface of the lake rippled under light, cold winds. A million wavelets glittered red in the sunset. The water looked deep and unforgiving; the grey rocks sharp and slippery. It was an ominous place.

  Phoenix stepped back, staring out across the vast expanse of water.

  “OK, Jade.” He turned to face her, glancing over as though to make sure the Svear warriors were well out of earshot. “You said you know this story. How does it go from here?”

  Jade swallowed & glanced down over the edge. She could once more sense the presence of a troll and it played havoc with her thinking. Fear swelled up from her belly, trying to take control of her brain. A sense of impending doom pushed into her mind like a dark fog. Her legs began to shake.

  Desperately, she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried a small spell on herself. Relax, she willed the Command spell on herself. Amazingly, it seemed to work. A gentle reassurance spread from a warm spot on her chest. It seeped into her limbs and brought clarity back to her mind. The amulet, she realised. Touching a fingertip to the gleaming metal, Jade felt a sudden surge of strength and power. She was ok. The fear was still there but she could think through it now.

  Delighted, she opened her eyes to find Phoenix and Marcus staring at her in bewilderment.

  “What…?” Phoenix began.

  Jade waved the question aside. There was no time. The sun sent golden fingers of fire across the lake as it set in spectacular fashion behind them. Grendel’s mother would emerge soon. They had yet to come up with a plan.

  “In Beowulf’s story, he’s given a sword, Hrunting, and he dives into the lake. Under a headland,” she indicated one of the rocky points jutting out into the water, “he finds the cave where the troll lives.”

  He fingered his new sword. “But this isn’t Hrunting, it’s Blódbál – which is a way cooler name, by the way - and Hrothgar said it didn’t work against trolls.”

  “Exactly,” Jade said, ignoring his comment about the name. “Hrunting doesn’t either but Beowulf doesn’t find that out until he actually tries to kill her. Then he has a huge battle of strength that he knows he’s losing. Luckily, he finds another magic sword lying about in the cave and this one can and does kill her. Unfortunately, her blood dissolves the blade and Beowulf comes out with only the hilt.”

  “So he does survive then?” Phoenix asked. “You’re sure?”

  “As much as I can be,” she bit her lip and laid a hand on his arm. “I’m guessing here, Phoenix. I mean,” she shook her head, irritated; “the programmers have mixed up their dates. I’m pretty annoyed with them, if you must know. The story of Beowulf isn’t supposed to happen for another 500 years or so – and it’s set in Denmark, not Sweden.”

  “Remind me to speak quite firmly to them about historical accuracy when we get home,” he murmured.

  Jade sighed and chose to ignore the sarcasm. “The point is: how can I be sure they’ve stuck to the plot? I mean, Hrothgar gave you the wrong sword; he wasn’t supposed to die and the way you killed Grendel isn’t part of the original story, either. You were meant to rip off an arm so that he bled to death.”

  Phoenix made a face. “Gross - and,” he added, as an afterthought, “impossible, I’d say.” Marcus nodded in wholehearted agreement.

  She gave them a worried half-smile. “Beowulf was amazingly strong.”

  “I rolled a twenty for strength, if that helps,” Phoenix shrugged.

  “Really?” Jade blinked at him.

  He nodded and she could see he was pleased that he’d surprised her.

  “Well,” she said firmly, “I still don’t think you should rush into the cave and just hope there’s a convenient, magical sword lying about – even one with a cool name. We need a plan.”

  Phoenix looked at the dark, rippled water below and shuddered. “Sounds good to me; I’m not a very good swimmer anyway. Got one?”

  “Ah,” Jade grimaced, “that’s where we have a problem. I was hoping you might.”

  “Me? You’re the one with the big ideas all the time,” he snorted.

  “But you’re the one who defeated Grendel, remember?”

  “Don’t remind me,” Phoenix rubbed his ribs. “It was sheer luck. I don’t think we could do it again if you paid us.”

  Jade gave an exasperated huff, losing patience with his ill-timed humour. “Well you’re the only ones with experience at this. Think of something! The sun’s going down and that troll is going to come out and flatten us as soon as it’s dark.”

  He growled. “I do know that. Geez, Jade. You’re not the only one with a brain, you know.”

  “Well, sometimes it seems like it,” she snapped. “Think of something.”

  “You think of something!” Phoenix shot back at her. “You’re the one who so keen to be important. Come up with another smartass plan to save the day.”

  “I am not a smartass,” Her voice broke and she turned her head away, fighting tears.

  “Well stop acting like it then.” Phoenix crossed his arms over his chest. “You keep trying to rub our noses in how smart and how special you are; now’s your chance. Save us all with your brilliance.”

  They glared at each other. Jade felt her throat clamp shut as she struggled not to cry. Why was he being so horrible? It was just like being back at home with her sisters and mother. No matter what she did, it wasn’t good enough. Would she ever be able to make everyone happy?

  There was a long, uncomfortable silence until Marcus stepped between his friends. He laid a hand on each and pushed them apart.

  “Stop behaving like children,” he ordered. “You are adults, both.”

  Jade flushed and exchanged a guilty look with Phoenix. They still hadn’t told Marcus that, although their avatar bodies were in their late teens, their real bodies were just barely into double-digits. Sometimes, she realised, she just couldn’t help acting like the kid she still was – at least partly.

  “Jade,” Marcus turned his dark, solemn gaze on her and she squirmed inside. “You know he deserves better. Phoenix,” he addressed the warrior sternly, “You know Jade h
as saved us several times already. She does not need to prove anything.”

  Annoyance then reluctant agreement flickered across Phoenix’s face as Jade watched. He opened his mouth, probably about to apologise. He never got a chance. Inspiration hit her.

  “Oh!” Jade clutched at Marcus’ arm. “That’s it!”

  Both boys turned puzzled gazes on her. “What?” They asked in unison.

  “The dryads. The magic horn Aurfanon gave me! I keep forgetting we have it.” Jade dropped her pack on the ground and yanked the Hyllion Bagia out of it. Reaching in, she named the item and felt its cool, smooth curves slap into her hand. She pulled it out, balancing it across her palms.

  In the rapidly-fading sunlight, the three examined their prize, differences forgotten. It appeared to be some sort of curled sheep or goat horn. Both ends were edged with thin layers of beaten gold, the small one in the shape of a mouthpiece. The cream-coloured horn between was carved with a thousand, intricate drawings that seemed to twist and shift in the greying light.

  “How does it work?” Phoenix poked it with a grubby finger.

  “I think you just blow into the pointy end and sound comes out the fat end,” Jade said with a touch of scorn; still a little hurt by the things he’d said.

  “Thank you for that helpful hint.”

  She stuck out her tongue at him then felt like an idiot when Marcus sent her a mildly astonished look.

  “I meant,” Phoenix continued, “didn’t you say something about being in danger?”

  “Oh, yes,” Jade thought back. “We have to be in dire peril; we can only use it three times and the help that comes might not be what we expected.”

  “Fabulously vague,” he still sounded like he was mocking her.

  “Got any better ideas?”

  He sighed and glanced at the sun, slipping rapidly behind hazy, purple mountains. Around them, crickets began to chirrup. The horses whuffled and stamped as the temperature dropped. Nearby, the Svear warriors stared uneasily into the gathering darkness.