Empty Altars (26 page)

On the walk there, Freya asked, "Why are you sleeping at Olaf's in his smith shop? You're a god. You're sleeping beside an apprentice."

"Better company than Griswold," Tyr growled.

Diana nodded. She'd bespell the chieftain if she had to spend much time with him.

When they knocked at the chieftain's door, Jon, not Jorunda, opened it to let them in. Dark circles cratered his eyes. His cheeks caved in. He was barely recovered from the pox.

Tyr frowned. "Where's Jorunda?"

The dark warrior glanced at the goddesses before saying, "He'll be here soon. He rose late this morning."

A smile split Freya's face. "Did Inga rise late this morning too?"

Jon struggled for an innocent reply, and Diana smiled. "The runes declared that Inga and Jorunda are destined for each other. This is happy news."

The warrior's shoulders relaxed. A loyal friend. He was doing his best to cover for Jorunda. "It would be best if Griswold heard nothing of this."

"Fine by me." Diana wanted as little to do with the chieftain as possible.

Jon's relief was evident. "Then come with me. I'll get a servant for your needs, and I'll fetch my friend."

"No need. He's busy at the moment." Tyr grinned. "He doesn't need to join us. We came to eat before we set off for the shrine."

"About that…" Jon caught himself and stopped abruptly. "It would be better if Griswold told you himself."

"Told me what?"

Jon pressed his lips together in a firm line. "I'll fetch the chieftain. He wants to see you before you leave."

A groan escaped Freya. "There goes my appetite."

Hlif hurried servants into the kitchen, bringing cold slabs of beef, breads, and pickled vegetables. "I'm sorry, my lords, but Griswold doesn't usually rise this early. We didn't expect you."

"You had no way of knowing," Tyr told her. "Cold meats are fine." He sliced a chunk of beef and bit off an end. Diana tore off a piece of bread. Freya played with her enchanted necklace, ignoring the food.

Steps sounded on the cold floor, and Griswold came to stand over them. A deer hide draped over his shoulders to keep him warm. A heavy sleeping gown scraped the floor. Other than that, he'd completely recovered from Heid's poison. "When were you going to tell me about the meeting with Heid?" he demanded.

Freya's brow arched. Diana glared. Tyr slowly looked Griswold up and down. "You obviously don't know your place, chieftain."

"This is my village, my people. Their safety is my charge. Six of my best warriors will go with you. If anything happens, they can help you. We rely on you for our protection."

"Donar's going to accompany me. He's more than enough to ensure my safety."

"My men will go too."

"And how will warriors protect me from witchcraft?" Tyr asked.

"Men!" The six warriors entered, Jon and Jorunda among them. Griswold motioned, and they lifted the talismans from around their necks.

Diana sniffed. "Well and good when you're inside the village and Heid is outside its walls. Not very effective if she's across a table from you."

Griswold's expression turned murderous, but he didn't argue with her. Instead, he said, "The warriors accompany you, or I'll go myself."

Diana blinked. Had the chieftain's fever fried his tiny brain? Then she understood. "You don't trust us, do you?"

Tyr's eyes narrowed.

Griswold shook his head, but looked flustered. "I simply want to make sure that my best interests are represented."

"
Your
best interests?" Tyr asked.

"As chieftain for our village," Griswold hurried to say.

Tyr rose, placed his fist on the wooden table, and leaned forward, bristling with temper. Before he could speak, Jorunda interrupted. "I'm glad we're going with you. It's an honor to be by your side."

"It could also mean your death. I can withstand Heid. So can Donar. You're mortals. You might not get so lucky."

Jorunda didn't back down. "Then I'll die with my hand on my sword, and I'll meet you in Valhalla."

"I have other plans for you at the moment." Tyr growled in frustration.

Jon placed his hand on the hilt of his sword too. "What more can we ask than to die serving you?"

Tyr shook his head. "If you die, who'll fight to protect the village?"

"They're going with you and Donar," Griswold said. "With such a show of force, Heid wouldn't dare start something."

"I'm not taking them. They're staying here."

"Then I'll send them after you depart."

Tyr's hand balled into a fist. He looked as though he'd gladly throttle the chieftain. He glared at Jorunda. "I have no choice but to let you go. It will add another burden for me, but Griswold will have it no other way."

Diana turned to study the chieftain. What was his purpose? He knew the gods abhorred him. Was he worried that they'd trade his power for the meadow's safety? If so, he understood them little. But why did that surprise her? The man was so self-consumed, how could he see honor in others?

Tyr jerked his head toward the door. "Let's set off now. I'd rather reach the temple early and wait for Heid's arrival. We can be watchful for others."

Jorunda fell into step behind him, not at his side, as usual. The warrior wasn't brave enough to vex him more. Jon and four others followed. Tyr turned to Freya and Diana. "Thank you for coming to see me off. You can return home now. I'll meet you there when this is finished." It was the ruse they'd decided on. Diana didn't want anyone to know she was going with him.

With a curt nod, Freya pushed herself to her feet. She refused to look at Griswold. She took her place behind the warriors. So did Diana. Inga hurried to join them. They all filed out of the gates and separated. Tyr started for the cliffs and the temple. The women started for the woods. The mists had deepened. Gray shrouded the meadow. When they passed the giants and witches' camp, Diana was relieved to see everyone still sleeping. The furs that covered them were wet with dew. She murmured her obscuring spell and slowly faded into the fog.

"Diana?" Inga turned in a circle. "Where did she go?"

"Shh. With Tyr." Freya narrowed her eyes and hissed, "I'm looking for you and can't see you."

Diana made one hand visible and gave them a quick wave goodbye.

"Take care," Freya said. "I don't like these new arrangements."

Neither did Diana. She half ran to retrace her steps and catch up with the men. Freya and Inga would be doubling back soon, too, to keep watch over the village. They’d made arrangements to hide in Olaf’s hut, out of Griswold’s sight. Diana was careful to circle the warriors before she reached Tyr's side. Then gently, she put her hand in his.

He gave a slight start, then a small smile curved his lips. He curled his fingers between hers. To the warriors, he was simply clenching his hand. For Diana, joy zinged through her nerves. The sky god was happy for her company.

They walked in silence. The path was wide, surrounded by grasses. Diana could barely make out trees in the far distance before the haze swallowed everything. They walked for a long time before the sun burned off most of the mist. The landscape became open and wild—a perfect spot for a meeting. Enemies could be seen miles away—unless, like her, they hid behind obscuring spells. The sun rose higher, and Tyr's scent wafted to her. She inhaled deeply. The musk of male addled her mind.

It was a fair distance before she saw the wooden temple. It looked simple enough. The Norse didn't go in much for embellishments. Its one concession as a shrine were two double doors in its center and a thick, golden chain that hung from its gables. A grove of trees sat at one side of it. A massive tree with huge, overhanging branches grew close by, near a spring. A vulture sat on one of its branches, watching them. Heid's bird. Diana was glad she'd taken the precaution of an obscuring spell. As they approached the longhouse, Diana wrinkled her nose. A stench permeated the entire area. Then she noticed the corpses that hung from the trees' branches in the grove. Horses hung from one, dogs from another, and men from a third. There were nine trees in all, with nine different offerings.

"Disturbing," she whispered.

Tyr grunted and looked forward, so that the warriors wouldn't see his lips move. "Sacrifices. Once every nine years. Man's version of religion. They believe gods crave blood."

She couldn't be condescending. Hadn't Agamemnon, aware that he'd angered her, offered to kill his daughter so that the winds would change to take his army to Troy? Not that she had any need for a young girl's blood, but mortals seemed drawn to the idea.

Tyr stopped to study his surroundings. He took his time. If any of Heid's witches or hellhounds were using an obscuring spell, he meant to see them. Nothing moved. No grasses shimmered. He nodded, more sure of himself, and approached the temple.

"Let's go inside," he told the others. "Donar will join us. He'll keep watch over the grove and meadow." As he stepped through the doors, he whispered for Diana's ears only, "Would you feel Heid if she came before us?"

"Yes, she's not here."

Three priests came forward, but Tyr dismissed them. "It would be best if you leave for a while."

They looked at Tyr and the warriors who accompanied him. With quick nods, they departed.

True to his word, the moment the last warrior stepped inside the building, Donar appeared. He swung his hammer back and forth, impatient as usual. "Did you see anything on your walk?"

"No, I don't think she's come yet."

"I'll keep watch. When she arrives, I'll join you."

Diana was pleased. Donar glanced over her, unable to see her. She didn't expect the warriors to. They didn't think of someone blending so well, but Donar was a god. It would be harder to trick him in close quarters. She'd succeeded.

Tyr nodded that Donar was free to go. The warriors went to the far side of the temple and took their places, hands on swords. Tyr stood before the wooden carving of Woden, waiting. Diana looked around. Three piles of stones held three statues. Donar's likeness, holding a mace, sat on the highest pile in the center. Freyr, carved as a huge, erect penis sat on an altar to one side of him, and Woden, in armor, sat on the opposite end.

Diana frowned. The Norse had a real thing about fertility. All primitive cultures did. It was a matter of survival. She had to give Freya credit, though. As goddess of love and beauty, she was much more subtle than her brother. A huge penis? What did that say about the god? She looked for a good place to hide. She wanted to have her back against a wall, fully blended, before Heid arrived. She gave Tyr's hand a gentle squeeze, then pulled free of him. She went to a side wall and planted herself so that she was equal distance between the warriors and the god.

And then they waited. When the sun was directly above them, a sudden gust of wind whooshed through the room, and Heid appeared before them. She'd obviously followed magic here. It was so seamless, it made Diana believe she'd traveled to the temple earlier and left a token to guide her here and back.

"Mighty Tyr, I thank you for meeting me." The dark witch straightened herself to her full height. She stood nearly six feet with a slender figure. Blue-black hair fell in a shiny cascade to her waist. Dark eyes flashed in a lean, chiseled face. Heid exuded fierceness and power. She looked at the warriors at the far end of the room, and her lips curled in a smile of derision. "Ahh, a display of might. I'm flattered." When Donar entered the room, she frowned. "And brainless brawn. I'm afraid now." She didn't sound afraid. She clearly was more cautious of Tyr than the thunder god.

"No one need fear, since we're only here to talk. I gave you my word," Tyr stated. "What have you to say?"

"I only ask for what, in all rights, should already be mine. I ask for a division of lands. My share of Midgard."

"We own no lands," Tyr said. "We protect them and the mortals who dwell there."

Heid smirked. "Semantics. A lawyer's weapon of choice."

"I'm merely stating the obvious. The Aesir and Vanir still perform our duties."

"Then you're foolish. Why bother with something of no value to you?"

"It's our purpose. From the time Woden and his brothers created the first man and woman, it's what we were bound to do."

"Why? Mortals add nothing to your existence. They show no respect, no fear. They bow to whatever god suits them at the moment. And you still care? Spare yourself the bother. Be rid of them. Cut them loose."

"So that you can torment them?"

She barked a mirthless laugh. "It's no better than they deserve. They'll at least bring me joy. Do they you?"

"They're our responsibility, not our pleasure."

She threw her hands in the air. "Listen to you! You're a god! You could force mortals to bow before you, to serve you. Instead, you serve
them
?"

Tyr raised a brow. "This argument will get us nowhere. Do you have something else to discuss?"

"How much are these mortals worth to you? How much will you suffer for them?"

"We've already suffered a great deal. You know that."