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Authors: James Jennewein

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BOOK: Ship of the Dead
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Chapter 16
A Negotiation with the Norns

W
ait! I see something,” Dane said. The party halted. Dane dismounted and stepped off the trail into the tall grass. He kneeled down and saw a saddle and horse blanket lying there. The blanket was warm and moist, as if it had just come off a lathered horse. Nearby were the reins and mouth bit. He touched the bit and it, too, was warm. “Someone took these off a horse just moments ago.”

Lut dismounted, reached down for a pinch of soil, and brought it to his nose. “Ashes. Still warm,” Lut said gravely. Immediately they knew the awful significance of this. The Blade of Oblivion had struck. “On guard, everyone!” Lut ordered. “Thidrek has been here.”

Everyone's hands grasped the hilts of their weapons. Jarl, Drott, and Fulnir, still mounted, nervously swiveled their heads around—but in the dim moonlight all they saw were grass and the dark shapes of trees. Then Dane saw something else on the ground. He bent down and picked it up. William's shoe. Still warm. Dane felt sick again. Had Thidrek used the blade on the boy? Was William forever beyond his reach now, locked behind the gates of Niflheim? The thought of the innocent boy suffering in Hel's dark realm tore at him.

“Thidrek!” Dane shouted at the night. “Show yourself! This time we settle it for good!” His words faded away across the meadow. Lut put a hand upon his shoulder.

“We don't know for sure William is dead,” consoled Lut. Dane looked down at the boy's shoe in his hand and managed a nod, although he feared the odds were slim. “Thidrek may already be gone,” Lut added. “If Three Brothers is his destination, then we
must
get there before him.” Dane put the shoe in his pocket, hoping that it would find its owner again. He and Lut mounted up and the party headed north.

They followed the trail as it crossed the meadow and plunged into the woods on the other side. Not long afterward a figure abruptly jumped from behind a tree in front of them, waving his arms madly and shouting. In the lead, Dane barely managed to pull up his horse to avoid running him over. It was Grelf.

“Odin be praised!” he rejoiced. “Hail the Rune Warriors! Come to save me from the clutches of my moldering lord.”

They just stared at him. “Come to save
you
? Our enemy's loyal man?” said Dane.

“My loyalty ceased when his lordship ceased to breathe.”

“So,” Dane said, “all that blather about you being ‘most fortunate and happy to serve' him was—”

“Blather,” Grelf concurred. “I was kidnapped by the foul draugr, pressed into service—just as William was. We were to escape when your bird interrupted our plans.” There came a
squawk
from above. Klint had just landed on the branch of a nearby tree.

“But William
did
escape,” Lut said.

Grelf told them of the boy galloping off on one of their horses and Thidrek's pursuit atop the other, reins in one hand, blade in the other.

“And he used it,” Dane said bitterly. “We found the other horse's blanket and saddle . . . and this.” Dane showed William's shoe to Grelf.

“But he would not have killed the boy,” Grelf said.

“Why?” said Jarl. “He suddenly too moral to murder?”

“A dead boy serves him no purpose,” Grelf explained. “Thidrek means to use him as a hostage to check you.”

Dane felt renewed optimism for William's chances. “Where is he taking him?”

Grelf told them of the Ship of the Dead buried in the cave behind the waterfall. “Your runes were correct. There are three islands near the mouth of the river that leads to the cave.”

“Ah! Three
islands
,” Drott said, sounding a little smug. “And who among us got
that
right?”

Fulnir sighed, tired of Drott harping on this. “Should we stop and throw you a banquet?”

“Maybe later,” Drott said, Fulnir's sarcasm lost on him. “Remember, I like mutton.”

“Why are we standing around when there's a draugr to kill?” Jarl said. “Let's ride!” Jarl took off up the trail. Grelf panicked, afraid they were abandoning him.

“You can't leave me here alone!” he whined. “Thidrek may still be about! And—and there's forest creatures that would eat me!”

Dane turned to Lut. “He's been to the cave—his knowledge may come in handy.” Lut agreed.

“All right, Grelf, you can ride with Drott,” Lut said.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Grelf crooned. Drott offered his hand, helping him up. “I shall not be a bother, just drop me at the first village we come to.”

“No, Grelf,” Lut said. “You're taking us all the way to the Ship of the Dead.”

“The—the ship?” Grelf bleated. “But I do not wish to return there.”

“You'll take us to the ship or we'll leave you here,” Lut said.

Seeing he had no choice, Grelf whimpered, “Will cruelty to me never cease?”

The thought of once again facing the Norns made Astrid's skin crawl. The Wyrd Sisters—how they
hated
this apt name—possessed the dazzling beauty of goddesses and the foul temperament of a bucket of vipers. Also known as the Fates, or the Mistresses of Time, they wrote the destinies of gods and humans.

Months before, when Astrid had discovered that they had fated Dane to die, she had gone to them to plead for his life. The scheming witches had agreed to spare him, but only if Astrid left her earthly existence to serve Odin and become a Valkyrie. Thus, Astrid had learned that the Norns made a hard bargain that was always to their advantage. This time, Astrid was determined to not let them get the best of her again.

As she and Vali emerged from the clouds, Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life, loomed before them. The awe-inspiring ash tree dwarfed all living things; its branches spread out to the heavens, disappearing into the mists above, its roots plunged deep into the very center of the earth. Astrid knew that at the base of the tree the Norns dwelled and conspired.

Vali glided down into the lush grass next to a still pool. On her last visit here Astrid had looked into this pool, seeing visions of her past and future that shocked and amazed her. She hopped from Vali's back as her steed instantly started gorging on the sweet grass. Astrid knew she needn't tie his reins to a tree branch to prevent him from wandering; with such rich fodder he'd stay put and eat until his belly was bursting. Despite being a celestial species, when it came to food Vali was just as piggish as his earthly counterpart.

“Greetings, dear sister.”

Astrid turned to see Skuld, garbed in a scarlet robe and matching headdress, standing a few yards away, as if she had suddenly appeared there. “It is a pleasure to see you again,” she said with a welcoming smile that did not fool Astrid.

“As it is a pleasure to see you, dear Skuld. I trust you and your sisters are well,” said Astrid, attempting sincerity. Across a small meadow at the base of Yggdrasil she saw Verdandi and Urdr, Skuld's fate-spinning sisters. Astrid wished a branch would fall and kill them—then revised her wish. Better that Skuld was with them so the branch would wipe them all out. Then humankind would forever be free of their vicious whims.

“To what do we owe your visit?” asked Skuld.

Was she jesting? She knew perfectly well why Astrid had come. But Astrid humored her, spilling out the story of Mist's death at the hands of Aurora and her unjust conviction for the crime.

“It appears you've stumbled into quite a quandary,” said Skuld after Astrid had finished.

Astrid wanted to say the “quandary” was all Skuld's doing. If she hadn't sent Dane for the Blade of Oblivion in order to kill the draugr Thidrek, none of it would have happened. But casting blame on a Norn was—as Astrid's father would say—about as futile and foolish as arguing a mother bear out of her cubs. So she said, “You are correct, m'lady. I had hoped you could advise me as to how I can prove myself innocent.”

“And exactly
why
should your innocence be my concern?”

Astrid was stumped for a moment. She had to proceed with caution. “Um, well . . . because you are most merciful and desire to see a mistake of justice righted.”

The good cheer vanished from Skuld's face, replaced with a look of haughty contempt. “I do not make mistakes.”

“I wasn't implying—”

“Do you think it's easy crafting destinies for everyone? You try it. Every day I must create fates and keep things fresh—from cruel to joyous to somewhere in between. Of course, I could take the
easy
way out and make everyone happy, but that would be hack work and I have higher standards.”

“M'lady, I am not belittling your craft,” Astrid said, soothing her wounded pride. “I must admit the fate you've created for me is most original.”

“Of course it is,” Skuld said with a self-satisfied air. “I spin the future while my sisters work in the past and present. What skill is there in knowing what has gone before or what is now? They are rank amateurs compared to me. Only
I
have the genius to create what
shall be
.”

Skuld sure was laying it on thick. Astrid wondered why a goddess would have to sing her own praises and malign her two sisters. Maybe she was secretly insecure, like most people in power. “M'lady, your sagacity is without question, but I am confused as to why you would have me become a Valkyrie and then so soon after have Aurora's vicious lies send me fleeing from the sisterhood.”

“Who are you to question my methods?” Skuld asked, her tone hardening. “How stupid you are. Do you think I work from moment to moment to refashion fate? I was here before the gods walked the earth—and I'll be here when they are but dust in the wind. Your destiny was shaped before your father met your mother. I created the moment when you first laid eyes on Dane the Defiant and then fell in love with him—it has all led up to
this
.”

She gestured to the pond. Suddenly flames leaped from the still surface. Astrid gasped in shock as in the pool's reflection she saw her village on fire and under attack by a swarm of howling, half-decayed men. Draugrs! Thidrek led them, swinging the Blade of Oblivion, as the horde swept in, chopping down men, women, and children without mercy. Then she saw her father on his knees begging for his life as Thidrek stood over him, shrieking with laughter. The monster raised his sword, and Astrid cried “No!” covering her eyes before the blade hacked down, ending her father's pleas. “No! You can't!” Astrid cried. “You can't let this happen!”

Skuld looked at the horrible scene without emotion, as if human suffering had no effect on her. “Destiny can be cruel” was all she said.

“It is you who are cruel, to create such a future as this!” Blind fury took Astrid, and she leaped at Skuld, meaning to wring the goddess's neck. But all her hands grasped was air. A derisive chuckle made her whirl, and she saw all three of the Fates were now standing a short distance away.

“Now, now, a Valkyrie must keep her head,” teased Urdr, who was the Fate who kept the past.

“She must not let anger cloud her judgment,” mocked Verdandi, who kept the present.

Astrid took a breath, trying to calm herself. She remembered that the last time she had come before them, the Fates had used the same methods: their haughty manner and immunity to human suffering had caused Astrid to lose her head and lash out in anger. It was their way of manipulating her, Astrid realized. This time she would not play their game.

“Thank you for seeing me, sisters,” she said calmly. She turned her back on them and started toward her grazing mount.

“Where do you think you're going?” Skuld demanded.

Astrid stopped and turned back to them. “As the Sisters of Fate, I would think you would know that.” She continued walking away from them.

“You do not turn your back on us!” screeched Urdr.

“You insolent child!” spat Verdandi. “How dare you!”

Astrid said nothing as she reached Vali. She whispered in her mount's ear. “Now
they
are losing their heads.”

“Astrid!”

She turned and saw the Fates standing before her. Their faces were contorted in angry disbelief that a human would show them such defiance. “Your audience with us is not over,” fumed Skuld.

“Really? Then why am I leaving?” Astrid boosted herself atop Vali. Seeing that Astrid was calling their bluff, the harpies immediately adopted a sweeter tone.

“Dear child,” Verdandi cooed. “You mustn't take offense at our jests.”

“We meant no harm,” purred Urdr. “It was all in fun.”

Astrid jumped down to the ground. “I'm on to you, sisters. You arranged my conviction so I would come here, begging for your help. When all the while you need
my
help.”

The Norns shared a conspiring look. Whispers passed between them. It seemed they were in argument, because the whispers started to grow heated in nature. Finally, Skuld made a curt gesture with her hand, ending the argument, and turned to Astrid again.

BOOK: Ship of the Dead
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