Thor Page 8

  Well, as gentle as possible with so many children underfoot.

  Prying the children off his legs, Thor said, “I must return to Asgard immediately. The passage you came by is clear and safe—you may return at your leisure.”

  Gudrun favored him with a bright smile. “Thank you, Thor.”

  He bowed. “Of course, my lady Gudrun.”

  Only after he departed from the Vale and took to the air once more did he allow his concern to show on his countenance.

  This battle with Hrungnir may have ended well for Asgard, but Thor now realized that the war with the giant had only just begun, and his foe had struck a brutal blow.

  Upon returning to Asgard, he went straight to the throne room, where Odin was consulting with his vizier.

  Odin saw his son enter, and dismissed the vizier, for they were discussing minor matters of state that were of very little moment. He could postpone them to speak to his son, especially since he had returned so quickly from checking in on Frigga.

  “I am afraid, Father, that I bring dire news.” Quickly, Thor filled Odin in on what he had learned: that Gudrun and the children were safe, but Frigga was last seen going to engage Hrungnir.

  “The children were well enough settled in that they had been at the Vale long enough for Mother to have joined them,” Thor said, “if she had won her battle against Hrungnir. But the giant is a doughty warrior, whatever his flaws. Mother would be hard-pressed to be victorious against him.”

  For several seconds, Odin did not reply.

  Then, without warning, he cried out with an incoherent scream as power flew forth from his fingertips, smashing several of the statues that dotted the throne room.

  However, the outburst did little to assuage Odin’s feelings on the subject. “I am a fool, Thor. I should have revealed myself to Hrungnir.”

  Thor shook his head. “That would have changed nothing, Father. Hrungnir’s arrogance would have forced him to challenge Sleipnir even knowing that ’twas him and you rather than a stranger and an unknown horse.”

  “Perhaps, but I suspect the giant’s attack was as much due to my deception as it was Sleipnir’s victory over Goldfaxi. Had I but revealed myself—even after the race—then only I would have incurred Hrungnir’s wrath. Instead, in my arrogance, I have caused the endangerment—possibly even the death—of the light of my very life.”

  The Warriors Three then came into the hall, accompanied by a strange creature that seemed to be dripping water.

  Peering more closely, Thor saw that it was an ice elemental—a clump of ice given temporary form and substance. Such creatures were commonly employed as errand-makers in Jotunheim, but they did not survive for long outside the cold climes of the land of the giants.

  “Forgive our intrusion,” Fandral said, “but this messenger from Jotunheim was quite insistent upon an audience with Odin.”

  Odin sat down upon his throne, placing his hands firmly on the armrests. “You were correct to do so, Fandral. Bring him forward, ere he melts before speaking his piece!”

  In the time it took for the creature to walk across the throne room, it became half a head smaller, its features less distinct, a trail of cold water left behind in its wake. Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun walked alongside it, joining Thor at the foot of the throne.

  The creature made a small bow to the throne before speaking. “Hail to Odin All-Father, king of the powerful gods of Asgard. I bring greetings from Hrungnir the Brawler.”

  “Arrive at the purpose of your journey quickly, messenger,” Odin said in a grave, threatening tone.

  Showing no signs of being so threatened, the creature continued. “The Lady Frigga is a guest of the mighty Hrungnir. She is unharmed,” the messenger added quickly, even as Odin leaned forward in his seat. “She will remain so, for Hrungnir has no quarrel with her. However, her release back to Asgard can be accomplished only one way: Thor Odinson must travel to Jotunheim alone and face Hrungnir in personal combat. It will be Hrungnir against Thor—neither may have assistance in any way from their fellows. If your son abides by these terms, then Frigga will be released back to you. If Thor does not abide by these terms—if, for example, another Asgardian comes with him or in his place—then Frigga’s status as an unharmed guest of the frost giants will be rather negatively changed. If you accept, Thor must arrive in Jotunheim by nightfall. If Thor does not come alone, or does not come at all, then Frigga’s life will come to a premature end.”

  And then the creature’s entire body warped and melted; within seconds, there was but a puddle before the All-Father’s throne.

  “It would seem,” Hogun said, “that the messenger was not instructed to wait for a reply.”

  Thor shook his head. “He will know his reply by whether or not I arrive alone in Jotunheim to face him.”

  Odin stared at his son with his one good eye. “Summon brave Balder and noble Sif to the throne room!”

  Thor widened his eyes in surprise. It was unlike his father to consult with others on such a matter. His word was, after all, law.

  Within moments, both had joined Thor and the Warriors Three in the throne room. Thor quickly filled them in on the latest development.

  When Thor finished, Odin said, “The decision before me is a difficult one, and while I typically would but make the decision and have done with it, I find now that concern for both my wife and my son do cloud my normally clear judgment. You are the finest Asgard has to offer, and so I ask of you: What do you recommend that Odin decide?”

  Thor spoke before anyone else could. “You need not concern yourself with my own well-being, Father. Gladly will I face the giant in order to save Mother—or indeed even were her life not at stake. He has already escaped once.”

  “Thor is correct,” Fandral said, “but he should not go alone. Even if the Lady Frigga were not his prisoner, it would behoove us to seek out Hrungnir and smite him for daring to invade.”

  “Agreed,” Sif said. “One good invasion deserves another. We can have troops gathered within a day, and we will ride across the Ida Plain, through the mountains, and into Jotunheim. We will rout them, and take Frigga home after our triumph.”

  Volstagg nodded his round head. “Indeed! Why, simply allow the Lion of Asgard to march through Jotunheim, and the frost giants will be cowed by my magnificence!”

  “Cowed with laughter, more like,” Hogun muttered. “I respectfully disagree with my comrades, Lord Odin. Hrungnir does not strike me as one who goes back on his word. If any other than Thor approach, the Lady Frigga’s life would be forfeit.”

  Balder nodded. “I agree with Hogun. Hrungnir is bold and fearless. And from what I hear, he has encroached quite heavily on Nornheim.” Balder spoke obliquely, though it was hardly a secret that Karnilla, the Queen of the Norns, loved Balder, and that the brave one had taken to returning the favor. Still, Balder knew his friends disapproved of the liaison—they did not know the Norn Queen as he did—and so he spoke directly of it as little as possible.

  Thor looked over his dearest friends. “My brave and noble comrades, I do appreciate your willingness to join me in Jotunheim, but Hogun and Balder are correct. For Mother’s sake, I dare not do aught but go alone to face Hrungnir as he has requested.”

  Angrily, Sif asked, “And what proof have we that he will keep his word that he will fight you alone?”

  “He will keep his word,” Odin said. “Whatever else Hrungnir may be, he is no oath-breaker. He proved that to me when we raced, for he thought me a simple traveler and could easily have gone back on the wager. But he did not. And Balder is correct—I encountered him on the road that leads from Nornheim to Jotunheim. If he is bold enough to challenge both Karnilla and myself, then he is not one to be trifled with—particularly with Frigga’s life at stake.”

  Sif, however, was not convinced. “He is still a frost giant. Perhaps he was willing to keep his word regarding a simple horse race, but now? He has been humiliated before his subjects—first by Sleipnir showing up his preci
ous mount, and then by his failed invasion of Asgard. In order to win back their love and affection after so thorough a defeat as we handed him, he will need to do something bold. Obviously, he wishes to be the one to finally defeat Thor, but I’m sure he will settle for being the one to kill Frigga if he must.”

  “You speak wisely, Sif,” Odin said, “and your words do give me pause—but no more than that.” He rose to his feet once more. “Thor will go alone, and he will do battle with Hrungnir. So be it!”

  Thor bowed. “As you command, Father.”

  “However,” Odin added quickly, “Hrungnir requested only that Thor go to Jotunheim alone to face the giant in battle. He said nothing of what we might do here in Asgard. Balder, Sif, you and the Warriors Three will gather our forces on the Ida Plain. Summon Harokin and have him muster the Einherjar as well. Should Thor fall, or should Hrungnir become as poor at keeping his word as Sif fears, then the entire wrath of Asgard will be brought to bear on Jotunheim, and the frost giants will rue the day they ever left the cold confines of their land.”

  The five of them all bowed their heads. Balder said, “It will be done, Lord Odin.”

  Stepping down from the throne, Odin put his hands on Thor’s shoulders. “I wish you well, my son. The life of your sweet mother—my noble wife—hangs in the balance. But I have ever relied upon your strong right arm and your ability to wield Mjolnir to defend all the Nine Worlds. I am sure you will do no less on this day.”

  “You may be assured, Father, that I would face Hela herself if it meant saving Mother’s life.” With that, Thor turned and left the throne room, his friends on his heels.

  Balder patted Thor on the back. “Fight well, my friend. I wish I could go with you—but if Frigga is to be saved, I do believe that you have by far the best chance of doing so.”

  “Thank you, my old friend.”

  “Be wary, son of Odin,” Hogun said. “Hrungnir did come upon Asgard more quickly than he should have before Heimdall’s sharp eyes saw him. He may have aid in his campaign against us.”

  “You may well be correct, Hogun,” Thor replied with a nod, “but it matters not. The life of my mother is all with which I am concerned this day. All I care for with regards to Hrungnir is how I may defeat him.”

  “And defeat him, you shall,” Fandral said with his trademark grin. “I am sure of it!”

  Volstagg added, “Indeed!” with a pat on Thor’s back that, unlike the softer one from Balder, threatened to crack the thunder god’s spine. Thor stumbled a bit forward as Volstagg added, “The only way you could be guaranteed victory is if I were to accompany you, of course, but failing that, I’m sure you’ll do well on your own.”

  Thor couldn’t help but laugh. Volstagg always knew how to disarm his foes and cheer his friends with his boasts. “Many thanks, my corpulent friend.”

  The Warriors Three and Balder went off to summon Harokin, the leader of the Einherjar. The warriors of Valhalla were the greatest of the dead heroes of Asgard, gathered into a single fighting force, and there were few better to have at one’s back in war.

  However, Sif remained behind.

  At first, they simply regarded each other. They had been through much, these two, as warriors, as friends, and as more than friends. Much was said with only an expression, and Thor knew just from Sif’s eyes that she was concerned for the safety of both him and his mother.

  “Be wary, Thor. I hope Odin is right—but I fear I am.”

  “It matters little, Sif, for I must fight either way. But if I am triumphant over Hrungnir, then it will matter even less, for the giant will be defeated once and for all and Frigga will be returned to us.”

  Sif smiled. “Be swift and brave, Thor—and if you should fall, be assured that all of Asgard will avenge you.”

  Thor gave her a small smile. “I’m sure that will comfort me on my way to Valhalla. Now stand you back.”

  As Sif moved backward, Thor again twirled his hammer, preparing himself for his journey.

  To the skies, he cried, “Be you alert, Hrungnir, for the thunder god comes to face you for your final reckoning!”

  And then, accompanied by the crash of thunder, he took to the skies and headed for Jotunheim.

  Chapter Seven

  Loki had observed the entirety of the battle on the Ida Plain with a combination of amusement and frustration.

  The amusement was mostly at the expense of the frost giants themselves. While he had no great love for the denizens of Asgard, he had even less for those of Jotunheim. Laufey hid his son, ashamed of his tiny stature, and would have rather he died—though the giant could not bring himself to do the deed himself. Instead, after defeating Laufey, Odin took the giant-king’s child in and raised him as his own.

  Loki had, in truth, hoped for more from his blood relations. At the very least, he’d hoped they would get as far as the trolls did, but the trickster did underestimate Heimdall.

  And perhaps he overestimated the giants in general and Hrungnir in particular. The Brawler had gained an outsized reputation as the latest of the gang leaders who had tried to rally the frost giants to his banner. Loki was beginning to think that Hrungnir’s legend was entirely an artifact of the animal between his legs rather than the brain between his ears.

  Obviously, Loki was going to have to help his cousin.

  Hrungnir had retreated from the battle on that speedy horse of his, an act of cowardice that Loki had to admit to admiring, and Loki decided to follow him, to give him a piece of his mind, since the giant had so little a mind of his own.

  Unfortunately, the journey proved more problematic than Loki had anticipated, as he had decided to do as Hrungnir did and take the most direct route to Jotunheim, through the mountains. Last time he’d taken the more circuitous route Odin had followed, via the Sea of Marmora, which was on level ground. But while the mountainous path was far more direct, it was also far colder, and Loki had reckoned without the nature of the shape he had assumed. Insects avoided winter climes for a reason, after all.

  Struggling to stay aloft in the frigid air, Loki alighted in a crevasse that he hoped Heimdall wasn’t keeping a close eye on. Once there, he transformed himself into a wolf.

  However, while the lupine form with its greater mass and coat of fur provided more protection from the chill, even at a full gallop, a wolf could not progress through the mountains as quickly as an airborne creature like the fly.

  For a brief moment, Loki toyed with the notion of simply teleporting, but that was an expenditure of magickal power he dared not indulge in. The simulacrum at his keep was complex and needed to be mentally maintained constantly in order to continue to fool Heimdall. And while the guardian of Asgard might not take notice of a crevasse in the mountains, he would surely discover if there was a hint that the sleeping figure in Loki’s bed was anything other than Loki.

  And so Loki took the time to lope through the mountains. As he did so, he formulated the plan by which he would ensure that Hrungnir would, at least, put up a decent fight.

  Eventually, the wolfen form of Loki arrived at Hrungnir’s redoubt on the outskirts of the frigid lands. It was a massive stone structure that seemed hastily put together. It had none of the elegance of the stone castles that many other giants favored, but Hrungnir spent so much time away from it on his horse, Loki supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised that he gave so little thought to the architecture of his headquarters.

  Thjasse, Hrungnir’s lieutenant—whom, Loki realized, had not gone on the campaign against Asgard—spied him as he approached the battlements and cried out, “Wolf!”

  Through the wolf’s snout, Loki said, “No wolf am I, but Loki, returned to speak to Hrungnir of his failure—and how it may be changed into a victory.”

  “Really?” Thjasse sounded dubious.

  “Yes. I would speak with the mighty one.”

  Before Thjasse could say anything, Hrungnir stepped out through the giant doorway that provided ingress to the redoubt. “So, the trickster ha
s returned. Good, because I would have words with Loki.”

  “And I you,” Loki said with a snarl. “You made, if you’ll pardon the expression, a gigantic mess of this.”

  “I have?” Hrungnir raised his arms as if to pound the wolf. “It was Loki who gave us a route that would take us into Asgard, not to an ambush on the Ida Plain!”

  “It is true that Heimdall spotted you sooner than expected, but still and all, you are frost giants! A gang of idiot trolls managed to do better against Thor and his comrades than you were able to accomplish. Had you not Goldfaxi to enable your retreat, you would be alongside your fellows in the dungeons below the Realm Eternal.”

  “And had I not Loki to ‘aid’ me—”

  Loki interrupted, “You wouldn’t have gotten as far as the Ida Plain. Do not be foolish, Hrungnir. You need me—apparently, even more than I believed.” Loki then whispered the conclusion of the spell he had begun upon departing the mountains.

  A mighty wind started to blow, gathering up the stones from the very ground around them. The wind whirled faster into a devastating funnel, but it swept up only the rock and earth around them. The snow and plants on the ground, even the hair on the heads of the giants, remained undisturbed by the currents.

  With a mighty crack, the rock pieces slammed into each other, merging and forming a bipedal structure.

  When the wind died down, the giants saw before them a giant-sized suit of stone armor. And beside it a massive club.

  “Both the armor and the weapon are enchanted. No force may be brought against them that would cause them to be damaged. Even Thor’s hammer would be unable to shatter the stone. So when next you invade Asgard—”