James Lovegrove - The Age Of Odin (52 page)

Everyone had been mustered in front of it. Frigga was there, dragged away from her patients. Vidar, Bragi, Skadi, Freya of course, Valkyries, plus Cy, Backdoor and the couple of dozen other surviving mortals. Frost giants. Some men I took to be the tanksuit operators, out of their machines and looking quizzical and bloodthirsty - executions like this clearly not an everyday occurrence for them, but something worth experiencing nonetheless. And, waiting on the platform itself, Mrs Keener. She watched me approach with the air of a society hostess about to welcome her guest of honour. She even clasped her hands together as I climbed the scaffold steps, with Bergelmir prodding me from behind.

"I am so glad you could make it!" she exclaimed.

"Wish I could say the same," I replied.

"Come now, don't be like that. It's your big moment, Gid. In some strange way I think you even want this. A grand finale." She pronounced it
fin-ayl
. "An ego like yours, it wouldn't be satisfied with you just dying along with everybody else. It had to be public and splashy and meaningful, didn't it?"

"What can I say? I'm a fame whore."

"Plus it gives you one last chance to show off how goshdarn down-home courageous you are. Quipping and wisecracking, a wiseguy all the way to the end. We'll see how it easy it is to keep the jokes coming once Bergelmir's started in on you." She looked over my shoulder. "First, though, if my eyes don't deceive me, I see that we have some last-minute arrivals."

Everyone followed her gaze. From the shadows beneath Yggdrasil a trio of female figures emerged, walking out into the thickening afternoon light. One strode gracefully, one waddled, and one hobbled along with the aid of a walking stick.

The Norns halted at the scaffold's edge. I found it oddly consoling to see them. In some weird way it seemed to confirm the rightness of what I was doing. It was as if they'd come to give my death their seal of approval.

"The Three Sisters," said Mrs Keener. "How generous of you to grace us with your presence. We are honoured. Tired of one another's company, huh? Decided to leave your cottage and actually witness events for a change, 'stead of viewing them through your scrying well or whatever it is you're using these days?"

"It is Ragnarök," said jailbait Urd.

"The end of all things," said motherly Verdande.

"The cutting of many threads at once," said bent-backed Skuld.

"We Norns have long foreseen this time."

"And anticipated it."

"And dreaded it."

"Now it is upon us."

"All destinies converge."

"The spinning ceases."

Once again the three of them were doing that thing where they spoke one after another so flowingly and seamlessly, it was as if they had a single voice.

"We have come because there is no more to predict."

"The past has tightened to a knot."

"The future is unclear."

"It is a pivotal point, the moment of all moments."

"We must see it as it unfolds, with our own eyes."

"To learn the outcome as others do, while it happens."

"Without foreknowledge."

"Without foreshadowing."

"Without foreboding."

Mrs Keener chuckled delightedly. "I couldn't have asked for more. The Norns themselves, curious to know how everything is gonna turn out. Know what that means? Means I've done it. I've truly won. I am greater than destiny. If I have brought matters to the point where the Three Sisters are half blind now, only able to see what's in front of their eyes, then I have overcome all limitation, and anything is possible." She was almost hugging herself with glee.

"Do not exult just yet, Loki," Urd warned.

"Wheels turn," said Verdande.

"An end may yet be a beginning," said Skuld.

"You don't scare me," Mrs Keener retorted. "That's just sore loser talk. Wheels? Nothing's turning today 'cept me, sisters, and that's 'cause I'm on a roll."

She fixed her attention back on me.

"Now, let's not get ourselves distracted any more," she said. "Betcha eager to get this over with, huh?"

I made a yes-and-no noise.

"Then we'll have you tied up and screaming in no time. Bergelmir...?"

Just as the frost giant was about start attaching the ropes to me, Mrs Keener slapped her forehead.

"Wait just one cotton-picking moment! What an earth am I thinking? You asked two favours off of me, didn't you, Gid?"

"I was wondering whether you'd remember."

"Conjugal visitation rights with Freya, and... oh heck, what was the other one? Clean slipped my mind. No, wait, I've got it. You asked if I'd give up my 'inside man' - assuming I have one, of course. That was it, wasn't it? Let you have him and let you decide how he should be dealt with."

"Yup."

"Well, I said yes to your first favour, and so happens I'm inclined to say yes to this one too. Nothing pleases me - or amuses me - quite like seeing one man getting his satisfaction on another who's done him a bad turn. I know all about slights and injustices and how they can make you feel. Story of my life, some'd say. So, you asked me to reveal who the guy was, the double-crosser, the one you reckon was throwing spanners in the works and was responsible for getting a couple of your buddies killed. I said you describe who you think it is and I'll say if you've got your man. You did, and the result is... Boys?"

She was calling out to the nearest of the frost giants who were policing the crowd of onlookers.

"Him." She pointed. "Fella with the walrus whiskers. Yeah, him. Fetch him up here willya?"

The frost giants homed in on Backdoor, who looked aghast and dumbfounded. They grabbed him and strong-armed him onto the scaffold.

"What the - ?" Backdoor spluttered. "Gid, what the fuck is this? What are you doing?"

"Obvious, isn't it? You screwed us, mate. You've been Loki's bumboy all along, just like I said at Odin's funeral. I want to show you what I think of that. Worst crime of all - betraying your own side."

"But I didn't!"

"You fucking did. You can deny it all you want, but I know."

"But I don't know Loki. I've never seen him before in my life. Never seen
her
." He gesticulated at Mrs Keener. "Never met her, never made any kind of deal with her. This is crazy! Why are you doing this to me? I fought next to you. I put my balls on the line, just like you. I'm not a traitor!"

"Sounds pretty convincing to me," Mrs Keener commented. "Swearing blind he ain't the one."

"Well, he would, wouldn't he?" I replied.

"Tell him," Backdoor said to her urgently. He was starting to panic. Maybe he'd guessed what I had in mind for him. "Tell him I'm not working for you. I'm nothing to do with you."

"Ain't down to me, pal. This is Gid's call."

"He's got it all arse about face. I'm good. I'm loyal."

"Gid?"

I eyed Backdoor coolly. "No," I said. "You're a conniving bastard, no doubt about it, and for that, you're getting the same treatment I am."

His eyes swivelled towards the rectangular frame. "No..." he gasped.

"It's only fair," I said. "I'm being punished for doing everything right, so you should be punished too, for doing everything wrong. That way, it all balances out."

"Gid..."

"Do him first," I said to Mrs Keener. "Whatever you're planning on doing to me, he gets it first. I'll watch."

"Very well." She nodded to Bergelmir. "This must be your lucky day, Bergelmir. You're gonna have your fun with
two
of them."

The frost giants' ruler laughed from way down in his belly. Couldn't quite believe his good fortune.

"No! Please, no!" Backdoor yelled hoarsely as the frost giants bound him to the frame by his wrists and ankles. They strung him inside it with his limbs outstretched so that he formed an X shape, like a vote in a ballot. He bucked and struggled, but it was no use. "This isn't right! This isn't fair! Mrs Keener, you can stop this. Please, for God's sake, stop it!"

Her response was a nonchalant shrug. "If you're what Gid says you are, then you've outlived your usefulness to me. The game's over. What's one player less on the field?"

Bergelmir produced a short ice knife with a half-serrated blade. In a few deft strokes he slashed off Backdoor's clothes, leaving his top half bare. Backdoor yelled even harder and writhed against his bonds, but spread-eagled as he was, he had no leverage, and the knots held fast.

"There is," said Mrs Keener, having to raise her voice to be heard above Backdoor's protests, "an old Viking method of execution. You may have heard about it. Many of the kings and chieftains of the Norsemen's enemies died in this way. It ain't pleasant in the least. It's known as the blood eagle."

I dimly recognised the name, although I couldn't recall the details of what a blood eagle actually involved.

Luckily, Mrs Keener was happy to explain.

"It's very simple. The executioner - in this case, Bergelmir - severs the victim's ribs one by one, right close to the spine. Then he grabs the two halves of the ribcage and yanks them back and outward so's they look like wings. Next he hauls out the lungs, leaves 'em dangling. Finally, as the coop de grass, he packs the wounds with salt. Might be overkill, that last bit, and we may not bother with it. Depends on the victim still being alive, and after all the rest you've got to think that's gonna be a mite unlikely. But we'll see. People have an amazing capacity to endure even the most extreme ordeals, so you never know. Y'all get the gist of it, anyway. This is what we're gonna do to our buddy Backdoor, and then to our buddy Gid. Blood eagling them. And you folks get to watch."

She turned to Bergelmir.

"Any time you're ready, big guy."

Bergelmir gave a yellow grin and brandished his knife.

Backdoor had gone limp. He hung from the ropes, his breath coming in fast, sharp pants. He was in shock. He couldn't believe what was about to happen to him. Didn't want to. I could see it in his eyes - they were glazing over, his mind was going elsewhere. He was retreating inside himself, trying to escape the here and now, vanishing into tunnels within.

Wherever he went, though, however deep he dived, he would never be quite lost enough.

And as Bergelmir got to work on him, all I could think was that was going to be me next. In a few minutes' time, that would be my back getting hacked open, my blood spilling out in steaming slicks, my bones being sawn through, my body wrenching and twisting hopelessly, helplessly, my throat hurling out those soul-searing shrieks and howls...

Sixty-Nine

In the end, they didn't need the salt. Ian "Backdoor" Kellaway was dead by the time Bergelmir delved into his chest cavity, eased out the two wet pink sacs of his lungs and draped them down his bare lower back. Backdoor's head hung slackly. His eviscerated body, with its rack-of-rib wings, looked like some demonic angel's. Bergelmir was steeped in blood from the butchery, his forearms solid crimson, as though he was wearing elbow-length evening gloves.

"He can come down now," Mrs Keener said, and the frost giants untied Backdoor and dumped him unceremoniously over the side of the scaffold. "It's Gid's turn."

Every instinct I had was screaming at me to resist, to fight, to do everything I could to escape. The berserker blackness inside me strained, wanting desperately to be allowed to cut loose. Reining it in took every ounce of self-control I had. This wasn't about me any more. This was about all those soldiers out there at the foot of the scaffold, hugging themselves, stamping their feet in the battle-churned snow. My survival no longer mattered. Theirs did.

The ropes were tied chafingly tight. I hung suspended above a puddle of Backdoor's blood, which was congealing swiftly in the cold. It had poured onto the scaffold's planks like rainfall. Mine would soon be added to it.

I wanted desperately in that moment to be able to see Cody again, one last time. Tell him I wished I'd been a better dad and I was sorry I hadn't tried harder to make things work with his mother.

That not being possible, I searched out Freya in the crowd and locked gazes with her. I would keep looking at her throughout what was coming.

"And thus we arrive at the main event," said Mrs Keener. "Gideon Coxall has got his own back on the man he reckons was a traitor, and now he himself is gonna suffer and die in the exact same way. If I were a betting woman, I'd wager money on him lasting a good sight longer than the previous fella. Made of tough stuff, this Gid. Pure rawhide."

"Enough of the showman bollocks," I said. "I'm ready. Just give the order and let's do it."

"You don't want me bigging you up? Very well. Oh, but there is one thing I feel I oughtta mention. In the spirit of full disclosure and such."

"Go on, then," I said impatiently.

"You were definitely right about me having a man on the inside. I like to think of him as my mole. Not in the sense of someone who passes on secrets but in the sense of someone who digs holes in the ground and undermines people."