Son of Thunder (Heavenly War Series) (15 page)

One moment he was lying on a soft bed with Meghan in his arms, and the next he was pulled through a dark tunnel. Jord was dreaming, but he still wanted Meghan back in his arms. It was where she belonged. She fit so well.

“Son of Thunder.” A distant voice echoed in his head. “You ride the knife’s edge of a prophecy.”

The dark tunnel he floated through was suddenly lit up with visions. It was like standing in front of multiple television displays, each tuned to a different channel.

In one he stood with Meghan and his mother by the fountain in his home.

“Mortals who get caught up on our business do not tend to fare very well,” his mother was saying.

The short scene played over and over. His mother saying that one line. “Mortals who get caught up on our business do not tend to fare very well.”

Jord turned his head and was met by a second vision. It was the same scene, but this time it was Meghan speaking. Speaking a line from the prophecy.

“A life must be freely given, if the golden city is to be saved.”

So much of the prophecy had come true, yet he’d just forgotten about it. Shoved it aside in his thoughts.

“A life must be freely given . . .” The scene repeated. What did that part mean?

A third vision came to him. In it a dark elf sorcerer was firing a bolt of Nornish magic at him. Sure that a single bolt could not kill him, Jord stood his ground in the vision, but then Meghan was in front of him, trying to block the bolt with her body. The magic struck her and her shattered body crumpled to the ground.

Why had she stepped into the path of the magic?

“A life must be freely given . . .” Meghan’s voice echoed in his head as the scene shifted.

Five frost giants stood before him, each pulling back a great bow. Five arrows flew at him, and he made ready to jump to the side to avoid them. Once again Meghan was there, in the path of the arrows. Jord saw the arrows pierce her. He couldn’t stop them. There was so much blood.

“Mortals who get caught up on our business do not tend to fare very well.”

Then Jord was facing Fenrir. The great wolf was ready to strike. But Jord was helpless, held down by shackles. Fenrir would rip him to pieces. As he struggled the wolf advanced toward him.

“No!” Meghan’s voice wailed. “Leave him alone.”

Then Meghan stood before Fenrir, the club, Prudr in her hands. Fenrir pounced, his jaws snapping and his claws slashing. Meghan stood no chance against the great beast, and was torn to pieces.

He wanted to cry out. Break free of the bonds. He had to save her. But she was gone. Mortals were so fragile. He wept, helpless to do anything for her.

“A life must be freely given.”

Why her life? Why not his?

“Mortals who get caught up on our business do not tend to fare very well.”

It was his fault. He’d involved a mortal in the business of the gods.

“But you will be a hero.” A distant voice came to him. It was a new voice. A cold voice.

The vision changed. Jord leading a great army against the forces of the dark elves and giants. Jord throwing down the great wolf, Fenrir, and killing him. Jord, victorious on the battlefield, yet grieving the loss of his love.

“A tragic hero, of a legend that will live on for thousands of years to come.”

It wasn’t worth it. The price was too high. He didn’t want to be a legend. It didn’t matter if he was remembered. Couldn’t the two of them just be together? Was that so wrong? Was that so impossible?

The visions left him, the tunnel grew dark again, and Jord fell deeper and deeper, back into sleep.

Damn the prophecy! Damn the visions! He’d save Meghan one way or another. She couldn’t die.

As he struggled to ward off the dream and claw his way back to consciousness, the voice returned. “Try as you like, Son of Thunder, it is her fate to choose death, for love of you.”

The words echoed in his head.

“. . . her fate to choose death, for love of you.”

No!

“. . . for love of you.”

Meghan crept as silently as she could away from where Jord was still snoring. He’d worked so hard, been so exhausted. The sleep would do him a world of good. She’d finished bathing and curled up beside him for a few hours. How long? It was hard to tell in the changelessness of the caverns, but she was awake now, and there were things to do.

She paused, just a bit, sitting on a rock to put on her boots, then just stared at Jord. The man. The god. She knew there was no room for her in his world. This thing between them, it could never be love. She accepted that. But she would enjoy it for as long as it lasted then let Jord go.

She’d think of him always. Worship him. How did one worship an old god? Sacrifice a pig on the winter solstice? She laughed at the image.

Meghan made her way to the kitchen area.

“Is he still sleeping?” A voice came from her left. She turned and saw Sif, stirring a huge pot of stew.

“Fed, bathed, and napping.” Meghan grinned. Sif smiled back, but her eyes looked tired. Meghan was beginning to really like the goddess. She was so down to earth. So . . . un-goddesslike?

“You look like you could use some rest as well.” Meghan took the spoon from Sif’s hand, and gave the woman a gentle shove. “Go find Thor. The real one. You haven’t seen him in six months.”

Sif chuckled. “I’ve been living with him for the past three thousand years. Six months away from him was more like a vacation.”

Then the goddess’s eyes glazed over. “But I did miss the old windbag. It was just too quiet around the house without him.”

Meghan stirred the big kettle of stew and started dishing it up for the waiting troops as she watched Sif wander off. It was still hard to believe the youthful goddess was even old enough to be Jord’s mother, let alone that she was over three thousand years old.

Suddenly she missed her own mother, gone now over four years. Her memories of her mother were fading lately. That last day she’d seen her, that final hug. It was almost like she knew she wasn’t coming back.

Her mother looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re all grown up. You don’t need your mother anymore.”

“I’ll always need you, Mom.” Meghan noted the sadness in her mother’s eyes, then the resolution.

“Well, I’ll be away for a while. I’m going to do some mountain climbing in Sweden.”

Her mother had always been the adventurous type. She was a free spirit willing to go anywhere and try anything new and exciting.

Sarah Larson disappeared on Mount Kebnekaise three days later. Crews searched for weeks, but the body was never found. It took months for Meghan to accept it, always expecting her mother to walk back through her door.

Meghan saw Jord’s father making his way towards her. Thor, the God of Thunder, was a pretty all around nice guy. She’d seen through his grumpy old man routine right away. Not that he looked old, the god looked fantastic, like all the gods, but he could put on this face and gruff voice at times, and his full beard would bristle. There was definitely an old man in there somewhere, but a pretty wonderful old man.

Meghan always wondered what her own father would have been like. She made up her mind, then and there, when this was all over, she was going to find this Fred her mother always talked about and get to know him. If he was still alive he would be her last surviving family, and she did miss having family.

“That stew smells mighty good.” Thor came right up to her. “You got an extra bowl laying around somewhere?”

Meghan dished up some of the stew. It did smell good, just another one of Sif’s amazing mutton concoctions.

“Grab a bowl yourself and join me.” Thor had a curious glint in his eyes. “I got something I want to talk to you about.”

Meghan dished herself up some stew. Her stomach growled in anticipation of the meal. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that moment. As she joined Thor at the table, the god was staring into his bowl and seemed deep in thought. But he raised his head and smiled at her as she sat down across the table from him.

“So, did you and Jord find that little bay I reserved for you?”

Meghan smiled, remembering their intimate time together.

“It was a wonderful place and Jord really needed some down time.”

“Sif and I were talking, before she fell asleep on me.”

Thor was hedging. He took another bit of food and his eyes glazed over for just a moment, then they cleared.

“Anyway, we want you to know, we like you. You’re good. And you’re good for Jord.”

Meghan nodded, not sure where he was going with this.

“Look, now that the whole Ragnarok mess is behind us, everything is going to change in Asgaard. There’ll be no holding it back. The old gods have been doing what they do for thousands of years, without much thought for the future.”

“Even with the golden apples keeping me young, I’m starting to feel my age. It’s long past time I stepped aside. I’d always hoped one of the boys would grow into the role, you know. Take over so I could retire.”

“Magni, Modi, and Jord are all great warriors, but up to now they’ve all been lacking that certain something. Not ready, at least to my eyes, to step up to the plate. You see, heroes don’t do heroic stuff because they’re heroic. Sure, I killed some giants, and fumbled my way through a few adventures in my youth, but it wasn’t till I met Sif I really had something to fight for. I didn’t do all that stuff they wrote about, for me. I did it for her and the kids. So their lives would be better. So the world around them would be better.”

Thor glanced up from his stew catching and holding Meghan’s eyes.

“I see how Jord looks at you. Sif told me about how hard he fought to find you. It took him six months to track me down. Took him less than a day to find you. That says a lot.”

Meghan shrugged. “But I’m a mortal.” She couldn’t believe Thor was saying what it sounded like he was saying.

“Why does that matter? Oh, it’s rare, sure, but it happens. Love is love. When you find the one, it doesn’t matter if she’s a goddess, mortal, or a frost giant. That’s the one.”

“You’re the one for Jord, anyone with half a brain can see that. You’re the one that will make him a hero, give him the reason to become one. The future is uncertain now. Who’s to say you won’t outlive him? Use the time you have together to the fullest, and let the future take care of itself. Don’t let barriers stand in the way of your love.”

Thor paused and captured Meghan’s eyes. “You do love him, don’t you?”

Meghan looked down at the table, but she felt a warm glow fill her.

“Yes.”

How could she not love him? He was so . . . everything. Her world was so much brighter since she met him. He filled her, completed her, made her heart sing.

Thor glanced across the room then pointed with his spoon.

“Look at Freyr there. He took a mortal wife, some time ago. Oh, he keeps her hidden away. Thinks no one knows about her. The big fertility god has to keep his reputation. Only a very few know.”

“I probably shouldn’t even be telling you now, so . . .” He brought his finger to his lips. “But he’s a different man since he found her. He probably wouldn’t be here now, fighting with us, if he didn’t have her back home to fight for.”

Meghan snuck a look at Freyr. Jord told her on more than one occasion to stay away from the god. That he was only interested in her sexually. But Freyr hadn’t come across that way at all.

“Anyway, I’ve decided to hang it up.” Thor brought her attention back to him. “I’m going to let Jord keep the hammer, the gloves, and the belt.” He chuckled then, and added, “Hell, I’ll throw in the chariot for good measure. With this war coming we need heroes. New heroes. Not a bunch of old gods, cowering for centuries behind some stupid prophecy.”

“Oh, he’s young, no doubt about that. But he’s a good fighter, he’s got a good head on his shoulders, and he cares. I think the only thing he’s been missing these past few years is you. With you at his side, Jord can become a powerful hero. The kind of hero we need right now.”

“It won’t be easy. If you two do decide to make a go of it, your lives will both get complicated. But in the end, no matter how long you have, I’m sure you’ll look back and find it was well worth it.”

Thor left her, with just a pat on her shoulder. “Think about it.”

Jord woke with the dream still rumbling in his head.

“It is her fate to choose death, for love of you.”

That couldn’t happen. He had to stop it. He lay for just a few moments longer pondering. There was so much to do. He had to get moving. They needed to be moving out soon. The fighting would start. More people would die. It would all be on him to save as many as he could. They looked to him to lead.

He scanned the cove. He’d always remember their time here. The memory of the battle in the hall above would fade, but his time here with Meghan would remain crisp and clear. He loved her. He needed her, like he needed to breathe. How could he tell her, “Don’t give your life for me.”?

He strapped on Megingjörð. The damn belt started all of this, now it remained ominously silent. He picked up the gloves and hammer from where they lay in the sand. He should give them back to his father. His father was the God of Thunder, not he. Why was his father standing back and leaving all this to him? The real Thor should be leading this army.

He entered the dining hall and saw her across the room, dishing stew, talking, laughing. The light of her spirit filled the room. When she saw him her eyes shone. There was love there. Love for him.

“It is her fate to choose death, for love of you.”

Damn fate! How was he to keep her from throwing her life away? She was everything to him, and he would do anything for her.

Then he knew. It hit him like a slap to the face, like a kick to the gut.

“. . . for love of you.”

She felt the same way. She would do anything for him, even risk her life, and as long as she felt that way she was in danger.

But if Meghan didn’t love him, she didn’t have to die. A part of him shattered. A part of him railed and protested. There had to be another way. He could protect her. He loved her so much. Why couldn’t he be the one who gave his life for her? He could easily embrace the cold realm of Hela, if he knew it bought Meghan her full span of years.

But that wasn’t to be either. The fates were cruel, and he needed to be also. He locked his heart away then, in a cold steel cell. It couldn’t be sudden, of course, she would suspect. It needed to happen naturally. She had to believe he’d just slowly stopped loving her. He had to break her heart and push her away from him. It would be the only way to save her.

She came up to him and he grabbed her. One last kiss. He needed at least that. Her lips so soft on his, he drank her in, wanting to remember this moment. Needing to remember her like this. He crushed her to him, feeling her body against his. She fit so perfectly.

He didn’t want to stop, but knew he had to. “I need to round people up.” He took her hand. It had felt so good to hold her.

He found his father talking with Doldar at a table. He then motioned his mother, Freyr, and a number of others he’d appointed troop leaders.

“Call everyone in. I’d like to move out within the hour if possible.”

He turned to his mother. “Mom, I want you and Meghan to pack up as much food and supplies as we can take. Use the old ore carts and draft as many people as you need. We’ll have to move fast if we are going to break out of here and have any hope of catching Fenrir’s army.”

His mother rose, there was fire in her eyes, determination. “Come on Meghan. We’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Jord breathed a sigh of relief. That went better than he thought it would. He’d been afraid his mother would want to be in the thick of the fighting, but he’d needed her to keep Meghan as safe as possible, in the back of the army, with the supply train.

“Freyr.” He turned to the god that was his rival, he was sure, for Meghan’s affections. Maybe he could push that along, throw Meghan into Freyr’s arms. His heart quailed in its cage, but his head thought the idea something to pursue. “I want you on rear guard with the supply train. Pick a group and make sure our supplies stay safe and keep rolling.”

Freyr nodded to Jord, and took off to find his troops. Then Jord addressed his father, Doldar, and the rest of his leadership corps. “You others pull together your troops. I want scouts, archers, and fighters organized in each legion. Be ready to fight when I call for you.”

Jord saw his father give him a smile and a wink. “We’ll be ready, Lord Thor.”

In the end, escaping Utgard was easier than Jord thought it would be. One of the scouts found the way back to the cave where they’d originally entered, so they did not have to fight their way up to get out. The horses, Gulltopper and Sleipnir, were still where they’d left them.

He gave Gulltopper to Freyr, so the god could better communicate back and forth between the front lines and the rear guard. Also Freyr would look dashing upon Hiemdall’s golden-maned stallion. Meghan should at least notice that.

Sif took charge of Sleipnir, to help pull the heaviest supply cart. The goats Tanngrisnir and Tanngnjóstr were also pressed into cart duty. His mother had a way with the two goats, and it would help them make better time.

As the army moved down the pathway that snaked its way around the base of the great mountain, Jord noted the chill in the wind, and hoped they had enough clothing available to keep people warm. He’d forgotten the chill while in the warmth of the volcanic mountain. After being in the caverns so long the sun above seemed very bright, and the air around them seemed lighter, and so much fresher.

Jord suspected the army of Fenrir would have already moved out toward Mimir. He could feel the stillness in the air at the base of the mountain.

As they headed into the valley he could easily see signs of the army’s passing. The giants left a trail a child could follow. They hurried on. Around midday they came to a place that looked to have been the giant’s campsite the night before. From the signs, Jord figured they were less than a half-day behind the army of Fenrir. It also told him Fenrir’s army was moving much more slowly than his.

They ate on the march. His army was rested and motivated. “We’ll catch them, Lord Thor,” one of his troops said. “I’ve a score to settle with that lot.”

Jord thought about his army. They were good people who had endured slavery and torture. But rather than acting like victims they’d acted like warriors
.
It would have been easy for them to feel sorry for themselves, but almost to the man they’d all stepped up and worked hard. Vengeance drove most of them, Jord discovered over time, but in this instance that was a good thing.

They’d have marched on into the night if he’d let them. But they needed rest and finally, as the moon rose, he called a stop for food and sleep. Jord posted guards then went to check on their supplies.

Jord saw Meghan standing with his mother. Could he do this? He’d played it out a hundred times in his head. Meghan came to him, her arms open, and he pushed her away.

“I really don’t have time for this right now. You don’t need to be so clingy.” The hurt in her eyes pierced his heart, as she backed off. He couldn’t look. Turning away from her, he went to his mother.

“Will our supplies hold another two days?”

His mother’s look told him she did not approve of what she’d just seen. That hurt too, but it didn’t matter. There would be time enough to mend the fences when they were all back safely at home.

“We should have more than enough, Lord Thor.” She spat the last two words as almost a curse.

“Good.” He tried to ignore his mother’s tone. “See that all are fed well.” And he strode off. He had to leave before his will slipped away, before he gave in to the burning ache inside.

He left the supply area without even getting food for himself. Finding a quiet spot he sat down on the ground and leaned his back against a tree.

Don’t think about it. Think about the war. The next day should bring them to the Well of Mimir. By the time they got to the well the army of Fenrir would already be inside the tree root tunnels on its way to Urd. There would be no time to catch them while they were still in Jotunheim, but that was probably for the best anyway. Jotunheim was the giant’s home base, when they exited at Urd they would be in the realm of Asgaard, Vanheim and Alfheim—the home turf of the gods.

His army couldn’t go head-to-head with the dark elves and giants. Fenrir’s force was just too large, too powerful. Guerrilla tactics would be his best bet. Hit and run. Keep them off balance until he could get word to Asgaard to send out their forces to help.

Jord’s stomach growled. Well, he wasn’t going back to get food now. He rummaged in his backpack and found a cereal bar his mother’d packed there. How long ago had it been since she’d handed him this pack of supplies by the fountain in his home? He still had it. He kept the orb for the chariot in the front pocket of the pack. He’d left the goats out, to help pull the carts in the supply train, but there was no reason to lug about a heavy chariot when it could be compacted for travel.

Jord unzipped the front pocket of the backpack and took out the chariot orb. It was an artifact of an ancient age, like the belt, gloves, and hammer. If it were crafted today would it be more like an airplane or spacecraft? Did the dwarves of Nidavellir even still possess the knowledge to craft such wonders anymore? None of the gods had even been to the dwarves in over three hundred years, to see what they were crafting.

The chariot orb caught the moonlight from above. Golden and shimmering, like the chariot itself. The thought of him riding in the chariot during the march, leading his army, never crossed his mind. He wasn’t about to fly over them like some sort of symbol. If they walked, he would walk.

Unbidden Meghan’s face crept into his thoughts again. As he recalled the hurt in her eyes, it wrenched his gut. And this was only the first time he’d rejected her. How many more times would he have to hurt her, before she turned away from him? Before she stopped loving him?

He needed to stop this. He needed to get some sleep. Tomorrow would be a big day. Tomorrow they would catch up to the army of Fenrir. Tomorrow there would be fighting. And tomorrow, he would have to hurt Meghan . . . again.