The Gospel of Loki (16 page)

The next time Thor waited longer, but I knew he wasn’t asleep. Thor isn’t what you’d call good at hiding his aggression, and between the mutterings, the gnashing of teeth, the rumbling stomach and the animal sounds, I could tell he was feeling frustrated. At last, he got up, Mjølnir in hand, and, striding up to Skrymir, dealt him such a terrific blow right between the eyes that birds fell stunned from the sky, trees fell and the whole of the neighbouring countryside trembled with the impact.

Skrymir sat up. ‘Is it morning?’ he said.

Thor was visibly shaken.

‘There must have been birds nesting in that tree,’ said Skrymir, getting to his feet. ‘I’m sure I felt something drop on my head. Still, never mind. I’m glad you’re up. It’s time to get on with our journey. Have you had breakfast?’

Thor just snarled.

‘Then let’s get going. My home isn’t far. But – a word of warning. My people aren’t used to strangers, and they won’t take kindly to arrogance. You gods may think you’re the bee’s knees in Asgard, but here in World Beyond you’re just cute little wannabes. Utgard-Loki and his men won’t stand for any nonsense.’

‘Utgard-Loki?’ I said in surprise.

‘He’s the King of World Beyond. What? You thought you were the only Trickster in the Worlds?’

Then he stood up and prepared to move on. His previous good temper had gone, and this morning he seemed unaccountably surly.

‘I’m going north, to the mountains,’ he said. ‘If I were you, I’d head back home. I don’t see you cutting much of a figure among the folk of Utgard. But if you
do
want to visit – well. You’ll find the city due east from here, not more than a day’s walk.’ And, picking up his pack (still with all our belongings inside), he started off through the woods again, scowling, without even saying goodbye.

‘Wow. I miss him already,’ I said. ‘Can’t
wait
to meet his family.’ I turned in the direction from which we had come. ‘This way, I think. We might reach the sea by morning.’

‘We’re turning
back
?’ said Thialfi to Thor. ‘After he belittled you?’

Roskva said nothing, but I could tell that she was with her brother.

I tried to explain that bravery wasn’t the same as foolishness. A city of giants like Skrymir, impervious to Mjølnir’s blows and ruled by a king who thought the gods were just cute little wannabes – this just happened to be high on my list of things to be avoided.

But Thor’s eyes were cold as knives. ‘We’re going to that city,’ he said. ‘I want to meet that Trickster King. And
you’re
coming with me.’

‘I am?’

‘You are.’

And so that’s why we headed east, to Utgard, and our downfall.

LESSON 9

World Beyond

The bigger they are, the harder they fall?

Tell that to the mountains.

Lokabrenna

W
E LEFT THE FOREST BY MIDDAY
, under that strangely luminous sky, and found ourselves approaching a bare ridge, in which three curious valleys – all square, one deeper than the rest – appeared like missing teeth. Beyond that lay a plain, and the stronghold that Skrymir had promised us: Utgard; the largest fortress we’d ever seen, with walls that rivalled Asgard’s in height. We approached and knocked at the huge iron gates, but there was no answer.

‘Somehow I was expecting a warmer welcome than this,’ said Thor.

‘What? The fatted calf?’ I said. ‘Come to think of it, roast beef
would
be nice . . .’

Thialfi and Roskva looked at me with eyes like saucers.

‘You think we can get in?’ said the boy.

We looked through the bars at the giant halls; the dizzying spires of Utgard. Thor hammered on the gates with his fists; yelled for someone to open them; and finally rattled them as hard as he could – without success. No one heard, and the gates stood as unresponsive as before.

‘Well, we can’t force our way in,’ I said. ‘But size isn’t always everything.’ And I slipped through the iron bars of the gate and beckoned the others to do the same. The youngsters followed me easily, but Thor, who was bigger and broader, had to force two of the wrought-iron panels apart before setting foot in the city.

He made his way to the largest hall, a building hewn from massive chunks of white rock, with a door of whole oak trunks, iron-bound. The door was open; looking through we saw an assembly of giants: men and women; old and young; sitting around huge tables; lounging on benches; drinking and making merry. Their shields were positioned neatly all around the hall; the polished surfaces reflecting the light from a thousand candles.

One giant sat alone on a higher seat than the rest.

‘That must be Utgard-Loki,’ I said.

We entered. It took some time for the giants to notice our presence. Then they began to smile, then laugh. Thor squared his jaw aggressively.

‘What’s funny?’ he demanded.

The giants only laughed some more. Thor gritted his teeth and ignored them, making his way down the long hall to the throne of Utgard-Loki.

‘Greetings, Utgard-Loki . . .’ he began.

‘I know who you are,’ said the king. ‘News travels quickly in World Beyond. I’m guessing you’re Thor, the Thunderer. You know, I thought you’d be taller?’

Thor made an inarticulate sound.

‘Still, size isn’t everything,’ went on the king. ‘Perhaps you have skills we don’t know about. We don’t usually allow people to stay here unless they’re the best at something. What skills do you and your friends possess? Let’s have a demonstration.’

By then I was totally ravenous. Skrymir had taken most of our food, and there had been nothing to eat on the way except for a few handfuls of cloudberries. In fact, I realized, my last
decent meal had been that goat stew, days ago.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘
I
have a skill. I bet I can eat faster than any man in this hall.’

The giant king gave me a look. ‘You think?’ he said.

‘I can certainly try.’

I reckoned that this way, at least, I would get to eat
something.

And so the giants brought a long trencher of roast meat to a table. It smelt so good I could barely restrain myself from throwing myself headlong into it.

‘Logi!’ called the giant king, addressing a giant sitting at the back of the hall. ‘Why don’t you take the challenge?’

I looked at Logi, and for a moment I thought he looked familiar. Something about his colours, perhaps; a fleeting glimpse of Chaos.

Then I shrugged. So what? I thought. He wasn’t so big. I was sure I could take him.

Utgard-Loki seated us on opposite sides of the trencher. The general idea was that we should eat from the trencher as fast as we could, and when we ran out of meat we’d see who had made the most progress.

Well, it started out all right. Thialfi and Roskva were cheering. I just got my head down and ate as fast as I possibly could. I couldn’t ever remember a time when I’d been as hungry, and Logi – whatever his name was – had presumably not missed any meals.

I only raised my head when I met the guy in the middle, and for a moment it looked as if the race had been a dead heat. Then Utgard-Loki pointed out that, although I’d eaten the meat from the bones, Logi had eaten the bones as well –
and
most of the trencher.

‘Nice try, loser,’ Logi said, and slouched back to his table.

Thialfi and Roskva hung their heads.

I gave Utgard-Loki a look. I
really
didn’t like the guy. It wasn’t just that manner of his, or the fact that he shared one of my names, there was something about him that wasn’t
right; something in his colours. I tried to see them properly, using the rune
Bjarkán
, but the hall was so full of reflections from the giants’ polished shields that I couldn’t be sure of anything. One thing I
did
know – he was tricky. Tricky, and maybe dangerous.

The giant king looked at Thialfi. ‘You look like one of the Folk,’ he said. ‘Is there something you can do that might be entertaining?’

‘I can run,’ said Thialfi. ‘Back home, I’ve never been beaten.’

Utgard-Loki looked sceptical. ‘All right,’ he said at last. ‘A race! We’ll try you against young Hugi.’ He beckoned to one of the younger giants who had been watching. ‘Let’s go outside and see who wins.’

There was a long, broad strip of grass right behind Utgard-Loki’s hall. ‘This is where we play sports,’ said the king. ‘Let’s see what this young man can do.’

The race was in three stages. During the first stage, Thialfi ran well, but Hugi reached the end of the track in time to turn and welcome him.

‘Not bad,’ said Utgard-Loki. ‘Now you’ve had a chance to see Hugi run, perhaps you’ll make an effort next time.’

The second time, Thialfi sprinted even faster. I could see the effort in his face; his feet barely seemed to touch the ground. And yet Hugi ran faster; this time he reached the end of the track and waved at Thialfi as he approached.

Utgard-Loki smiled. ‘That’s not bad for one of the Folk. But I think you’ll have to do something quite special this time if you want to match Hugi.’

Thialfi prepared for a third race. This time, if anything, I thought he managed to run even faster. But Hugi was faster still – a blur – reaching the end long before Thialfi was even halfway.

‘Brave try,’ said Hugi to Thialfi. ‘But I think we all know who the winner is here.’

Now Thor, who had watched all this with clenched teeth, strode up to Utgard-Loki. I knew the signs better than most: the Thunderer was losing patience.

‘Oh, it’s you, Asa-Thor,’ said the king. ‘Have you a skill you’d like to display? I’ve heard all kinds of fanciful tales, but seeing your companions, I’m rather inclined to dismiss what I’ve heard. It’s easy to swagger among the Folk and impress them with your boasting. But to pit you against
real
men . . .’

Thor snarled: ‘I’ll gladly out-drink any of you.’

The giant king raised an eyebrow. ‘A drinking contest? Really?’ he said. ‘I’m warning you, we’re serious drinkers in Utgard. Come winter, when the light goes, there isn’t much else to do here.’

‘Bring it on,’ said Thor. ‘You’ll see. There’s no one in Asgard to rival me, not even Allfather himself.’

‘All right,’ said Utgard-Loki. We followed him back into the hall, where a servant brought to his table a cleverly fashioned sconce-horn. ‘Most of my people like to drink from this, my ceremonial horn. Our very best drinkers can drain it in a single draught. Most of the rest can drain it in two. Let’s see what you can do, little Thor.’

Thor was red in the face by now. He wasn’t used to ridicule, and jokes about his size were never likely to go down well. I looked at the horn. It was very long, but Utgard-Loki hadn’t seen Thor drink. I thought that maybe this time, he’d underestimated the gods.

Thor took a deep breath and raised the drinking-horn to his mouth. Then he began to drink, taking giant gulps of the stuff inside. To me, it smelt like some kind of beer; weak; a little salty. I was sure that the draught would prove no match at all for the Thunderer. But when Thor put it down at last, gasping for breath, and looked inside, the level seemed barely to have dropped.

‘Never mind,’ said the giant king. ‘That’s still quite a
respectable draught for such a little man as yourself. Try again. Twice should do it. Even the women and children here can do it in three.’

Thor said nothing, but drank again. I could feel the rage coming off him. The muscles in his neck worked; he drank until he was red in the face . . .

But when he finally put down the horn, it seemed to me that the level of beer had barely dropped more than an inch or so.

Thor shook his head like an angry dog.

‘Well, if that’s the best in Asgard,’ said Utgard-Loki with a smile, ‘I wonder you’ve kept it safe for so long. Your enemies must be very gullible, believing everything they hear about your strength and prowess.’

‘My strength!’ said Thor. ‘You can test it. What sort of weights do you have in here?’

Utgard-Loki looked amused. ‘I’m not sure I should be encouraging you to make a fool of yourself this way. But some of our youngsters play a game called “Lifting the Cat”. Perhaps you could try. I wouldn’t normally suggest it to a man of your stature . . .’ he smirked, ‘but maybe you’ll surprise us.’

He made a curious clicking noise, and a cat snaked out from under one of the tables. It was quite a large cat; black, with sleepy yellow eyes.

‘What am I supposed to do with this?’ said Thor.

‘Why, lift it from the floor, of course. Don’t do yourself an injury; it’s a big cat, and you’re a bit on the small side.’

Thor growled and squared his feet and grabbed the cat in both hands. Then he lifted it high in the air – but the cat just arched its back and purred, and its feet stayed firmly on the ground. Thor tried to get a better grip, but the cat seemed boneless; it rolled and squirmed and Thor had no more luck than before. At last, Thor grabbed the cat squarely around the body. Grunting and cursing with the effort, he lifted it right over his head and stretched his arms as far as he could . . .

The cat stopped purring and lifted one paw from the
ground.

Sarcastic applause from the giants. Thialfi put his head in his hands. Thor turned to Utgard-Loki in rage. ‘I’ll wrestle you,’ he said. ‘No tricks. No cats. No games. I’ll wrestle
you
.’

‘Who,
me
?’ said Utgard-Loki. ‘Oh, please. I thought you might have learnt a little humility by now. There’s no one in this hall who’d agree to wrestle a little man like you. It wouldn’t be fair – and it wouldn’t reflect well on any of us to try.’

‘You’re afraid to fight me,’ said Thor.

‘Not at all,’ said the giant king. ‘But I might do you an injury. I’ll tell you what – my old nurse sometimes likes to wrestle. She’s tougher than she looks, and she’s used to dealing with children.’ He raised his voice. ‘Elli! Come over here!’

A very old woman came into the hall. White-haired, bent like driftwood; bright eyes in a face that was nothing but wrinkles. Thor clenched his teeth so hard that it hurt to watch. But the old lady cackled and crowed when she heard that he wanted to wrestle.

‘Fine!’ she said, and threw down her stick. ‘I haven’t been this close to a man since my old husband died. Let’s see what you’re made of, big boy!’ And she threw herself at the Thunderer.

‘What about me?’ hissed Roskva, who was watching the proceedings with interest. ‘Don’t I get a chance to compete?’

‘Don’t be silly. Girls don’t compete,’ said Thialfi, still breathing heavily. ‘Girls are meant to sit and watch, and maybe bring their brothers a drink?’

Roskva kicked him, hard, in the shin.

‘
Ouch!’

For the first time that day, I grinned.

Meanwhile, Thor and Ellie were locked in earnest combat. To begin with, Thor had held back, afraid to do the old woman harm. But very soon he had realized that she was stronger than she looked. The crooked old body was far from frail, and when he tried to throw her, she held her position fast, and laughed,
and worked her bony fingers around all his most sensitive pressure points, so that he was obliged to go on the defensive just to avoid being thrown himself.

Suddenly the old woman twisted, locking Thor’s arm as she stepped behind him. Thor tried to escape the lock, but he had been thrown off balance; he fell to one knee.

The giants roared.

Thor went red.

Thialfi looked at Roskva and I felt their disillusionment. That terrible moment when a god turns out to be no more than a man – it was almost heartbreaking. I, too, was tarnished with failure; in the eyes of our young friends, we would never be gods again, just beaten, second-rate heroes.

Damn it, that hurt. I began to see that celebrity wasn’t all hot girls and free beer. It’s also the curse of expectation – and the bitterness of falling short. Perhaps that was why I’d always been so suspicious of fatherhood; perhaps I’d known instinctively how much that disillusion would hurt if I saw it in the faces of my boys.