RECAP: With their money stolen, Erik, Trond, and Ragnvald have no way off of Midgard. But with the help of a bounty hunter, they’re on their way to get it back. But first, they have a scheduled appointment with King Agnar of Soemd.
Our daily searches proved nearly fruitless. I guessed that the girl gave our description to the other thieves in Prosperity. Most thieves we came across turned and fled as quickly and discreetly as they could once they caught sight of me.
But today was not a day of searching.
Trond, Ragnvald and I marched up the stairs to King Agnar’s palace. The white-armored, bulky soldiers seemed to be the same as last time, standing in the exact spot as before, guarding the way up the steps and flanking the massive gates. But they must have been different. Surely, they changed shifts. But it was impossible to tell one soldier from another. Their white armor was spotless, and there was nothing to differentiate one from another.
The man sitting in the booth near the gates typed on his computer, seemingly busy. But given his haughty attitude during our previous interaction, I couldn’t help but believe it was a farce.
Once again, the man did not look away from his screen as he spoke. “Can I help you?”
“I’ve come for my appointment with the King.”
“Name?”
Trond crossed his arms. “You only saw us a week ago.”
“I’ve seen a lot of people a week ago, and I’ve seen many this week as well. Name.”
“Jarl Erik Randolf.”
“Oh, yes. A jarl. I have a special little folder for you kings of cabins. There we are. Erik Randolf. You’re right on time for your scheduled meeting and are allowed to proceed.”
He pressed a button. There was a loud thunk from the large, gold-highlighted doors, and they slowly creaked inward, revealing a large room with pillars lining a crimson carpet which led to another, smaller door. The pillars weren’t as thick as the ones outside, but that’s not to say that they were small, either. There were more guards stationed inside, lined up on either side of the carpet and towering over even my large figure. They had to be standing at eight feet at the shortest. I hadn’t felt so small as I did then.
Two decoratively dressed servants—their robes colored white and red and lined with gold—opened the smaller set of doors and stood rigidly on either side. I was eager to get into the hall. The King awaited, and he had the answer to our troubles. But Ragnvald’s infuriatingly slow pace kept me from rushing inside. I wanted to push the old man along, but I remembered my patience and waited.
Trond maintained somewhat less control than I. “Let’s go, old man. We’re speaking to a king.”
Ragnvald huffed hard as though he’d just finished sprinting a mile. He leaned more heavily on his staff than before. “No need… to rush an old fool… like me. I’m… your elder. I will be treated… with respect.”
“You’ll respect that we need to get soldiers to Ravengard as soon as we can. Every minute counts, and I’d rather not spend them waiting for you to hobble along.”
I rubbed my face. “We are in a king’s palace, brother, and that is your godi. Will you please show respect?”
“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’ve never seen a king.”
“Neither have I. But don’t be fooled by the large buildings and legions of guards. For as much pomp as the man seems to have, he’s just a man.”
Trond’s expression fell a little. “Yes, I suppose.”
Keeping at Ragnvald’s frustrating pace, we marched into the massive hall. The ceiling must have been 50 feet above us. More guards filled the empty spaces. Servants stood off to the side, ready to act on whatever the King wished and serve him as needed. At the end of the long hall was a golden throne, and on it sat a man no older than I dressed in bright white robes that had no flaw. He wore a fur coat, and on his head sat a polished silver crown.
Trond leaned close and whispered to me. “I expected him to be grayer. And taller.”
I nodded and said nothing. The King’s youth surprised me also. I assumed all kings were of an older age, wise with years. But Agnar did not have the wrinkled complexion of an old man, but the raw strength of a young warrior. His arms and chest were far larger than mine, though his beard was nothing but stubble on his face.
When I figured we had come close enough, I stopped my approach, went down to one knee, and bowed. “My lord.”
Trond followed my example. Ragnvald bowed, but did not kneel.
“Rise.” King Agnar’s voice projected louder than I expected. Maybe it was the shape of the room. Maybe he had a voice modifier hidden on his person. Maybe he really was just that loud without sounding like he was shouting.
“I apologize for delaying our meeting,” King Agnar said. “As I’m sure you’re aware, Tyr, one of the famed Aesir, was here. We had a visit to catch up. I haven’t spoken to one of the gods in weeks.”
Was that the purpose of bringing up a meeting with a god? A play for power? What purpose would a king have to show off his power to a jarl of a small clan?
“No apology is necessary,” I said. “You are the King, and you decide when to meet whom.”
A slight smile appeared on King Agnar’s face. So, he liked to have his ego fed. I could work with that.
“I’m told you’re a jarl of a clan out in the wilderness?”
“Yes,” I said. “I am Jarl Erik Randolf of clan Ravengard. We’re a small people, but we all work together to survive peacefully.”
“You do not want to grow?”
“Growth is not the goal. We are content with peace and survival.”
“Huh,” King Agnar said. “I’ve not heard from a jarl who does not wish to conquer his neighbors. Tell me, Jarl Erik, what is your business here?”
“I’ve come for aid.”
Agnar scoffed. “As do all jarls.”
I ignored his comment. “My people were attacked by giants. They sent strikecraft and performed strafing runs, knocking out one of our defense turrets. I managed to take one down, and the other fled. But they’ll return, and when they do, we’ll be defenseless.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Send soldiers. It doesn’t have to be many, for even a few of your number are mighty enough to defeat the giants. We ask for your protection, my lord, so that when the giants return, they find not a restful village, but instruments of death awaiting them.”
King Agnar laughed. “You think I can afford to send soldiers to every clan who asks for them? I fight for Soemd, not the clans.”
“We are all Midgardians,” I said. “I only ask that you protect Midgard. If the giants come through the clans, what’s to say they won’t set up forward bases on our world and attack your kingdom? They’re coming, my lord. Our enemies are on our doorstep. I ask that you help us repel them before they wage full-scale war against Midgard and begin Ragnarok.”
“You think the giants are trying to start the Twilight of the Gods?”
“We are not sure, but it’s a possibility we must be aware of. They must know that humans are weak at the moment. We’re divided and fighting amongst one another. Now would be the perfect time for them to strike.”
“All you jarls are the same,” King Agnar said. “You’re all too foolish enough to realize that Yggdrasil is not rooted in the clans. It’s rooted in important people. You’re but a budding leaf on the cosmic tree. The giants are not trying to begin Ragnarok. They want something from your clan. Maybe it’s your food. Maybe it’s your treasury. I don’t know. But these attacks on your village do not shift the balance of the cosmos.”
“Why travel to another world for a small storehouse of treasure? Why not take it from another giant tribe on Jotunheim? But even if this doesn’t affect Yggdrasil—or even Midgard—as a whole, my people are dying, and I would ask that you help me protect them.”
“That’s another thing all of the jarls realize sooner or later. Despite your stubbornness and longing for power, you eventually realize that you were never in control, and you rely on the great kingdoms to survive.”
“Yes, we need you. I beg you to lend me your aid.”
King Agnar sighed. “If the giants are truly attacking Midgard, then I’ll need my soldiers here. We can’t spare troops to defend distant villages, no matter how many are dying. You aren’t the first jarl to ask of my protection from giants of late. This is concerning news, and I would have my people defended.”
“You mean to say you’re going to let the clans die so you can hide behind your walls?”
King Agnar’s face hardened. “I could have you executed for that. If you wish for my help in defending your people, then you should bring them behind my walls. Otherwise, there’s nothing I can do for you. Now, go. I have more meetings to attend.”
I closed my fists, but bowed wordlessly and marched back out of the King’s hall.
I stood on the steps outside of the palace, glaring at the flourishing city before me as I waited for Trond and Ragnvald to catch up. Trond stayed behind with the godi. But the anger swirling in my mind was too much for me to bear. I needed to escape the palace before I did or said something I would regret. I couldn’t defend Ravengard without my head.
A moment later, Trond and Ragnvald approached.
Trond placed his hand on my shoulder. “It was a long shot to begin with. There was no guarantee of the King agreeing to help us.”
“Heartless fool. He thinks himself better than us clansmen because he sits on a polished throne and has command over legions of soldiers and armadas of ships, but it is not so.”
“I agree, brother, but we cannot make up his mind for him. That’s why we have our other plan.”
“But we still haven’t recovered our gul. How are we supposed to leave Midgard without money?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
Ragnvald cleared his throat. “I told you this quest would be too much for us. You are not yet ready to speak with kings, nor travel the branches of Yggdrasil. You are but a young jarl, who’s reign is destined for destruction.”
Trond rounded on the elder. “Enough of that.”
“We will go to the inn,” I said. “We will await Hilda there, and she will tell us where Prosperity is. Then we’ll help her eliminate the thieves’ guild and take our gul back. After that, it’s Nidavellir.”
“We haven’t heard from or seen Hilda all week,” Trond said. “Do you think she’s still helping us?”
“I do.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because outside of her, I have no hope.”
****
The inn was far quieter that night. We stayed up late waiting at one of the tables. We ate enough to maintain our strength and drank little so we didn’t muddy our minds.
It was late in the night when I decided to retire to our room. But just as I stood from my seat, the door swung open, and Hilda marched in with her chest held high, the symbol of wings gleaming on her armor. She approached our table, and I returned to my seat.
“Have you spoken with the King yet?” Hilda asked. “You said your appointment was today.”
I wasn’t sure she had remembered that. “Yes, we spoke to the King.”
“No help?”
“None.”
“That’s alright. I found our thieves.”
Trond grinned. “Really? That’s great! Where are they? Where’s our gul?”
“I found them, but I haven’t caught them yet. This takes careful planning.”
“Planning? What, we’re just going to sit around a table and talk about what might happen while they scurry off and find and new hiding place?”
“They’re not leaving,” Hilda said. “I wasn’t spotted, and they weren’t making plans to leave when I saw them.”
“She tells the truth,” Ragnvald said.
“What if that’s what they wanted you to see?” Trond asked. “What if it was a trick?”
Hilda sighed. “It’s not. I know what I’m talking about.”
“I trust Hilda,” I said. “I think you should, too, Trond.”
Trond glanced my way, the shadow of a grin still on his face. But this grin was less humorous and more incredulous. He must have thought I was out of my mind.
“I’ll go in there and try to convince them to surrender,” Hilda said. “Or give up the gul. But no matter what happens, I’m walking out with their leader at the very least. His name is Thorarin.”
“How will we know which one he is?” I asked.
“You’ll know.”
“What do you want us to do?”
“You’re going to stay in the shadows. You’re not going to be seen.”
Trond crossed his arms. “That doesn’t sound like much fun.”
“If I need help, I’ll call on you. But once they see warriors, they’re going to start shooting. Thieves are jumpy, especially when a bounty hunter is demanding their surrender.”
“We’ll do as you ask,” I said. “When do we go to them?”
“Tomorrow night under the cover of darkness. Most of their petty thieves will be out in the streets. They might even have a team performing a heist. But Thorarin will be there. I’m sure of that.”
“We will follow your lead. But if this a trick and you plan to betray us, know that I will not stop hunting you until we have been repaid.”
Hilda scoffed. “A trick? What for? To steal the last of your pocket change? I’m here for the bounty. Once I have Thorarin, I get paid, and you get your money back to travel wherever it is you’re going.”
“We’re going to Nidavellir.”
“Nidavellir? Are you buying your own ship?”
“No.”
“Then you’re not making it to Nidavellir.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There are no public transports that go to Nidavellir. There’s never been a reason. It’s just a waste of fuel. Anyone who has business with the dwarfs either has enough money to buy their own ship or gets transport from the dwarfs.”
“We have neither, and we have business with the dwarfs.”
“I’m sure there’s someone going to Nidavellir,” Trond said. “People visit that place, right?”
“The dwarfs don’t like outsiders. They keep to themselves and only deal with the other worlds if it involves business.”
“They sound cheery.”
“They’re parasites. They take what they can from others and give little back. They’re fortunate they’re master craftsmen and engineers. Otherwise, no one would have any dealings with them at all.”
“Come on,” Trond said. “Don’t you think you’re generalizing just a little?”
“It’s their culture. Since their beginning, they’ve been like maggots.”
“Whoa.”
I rubbed my bearded chin. “I think what Hilda is saying is that the dwarfs like money. Their culture and society is rooted in trade. If they’re not making money, then they’re useless, so they’ll do anything they can to make as much as possible.”
“Yes, that is what I’m saying. Maggots.”
“Wait,” Trond said, “how are we supposed to ask for their help if that’s how they treat outsiders?”
Hilda’s eyes widened. “You’re going to ask them for help?”
“We need a weapon to defend ourselves against the giants,” I said. “If anyone knows how to make such a weapon, it’s the dwarfs.”
“There are other options.”
“Clearly, the kingdoms of Midgard do not wish to help. They’re too comfortable behind their walls to move. We’ve prayed to the gods, and they’ve not come to our aid.”
“I shouldn’t think so.”
“What choice have we but to go to the dwarfs?”
Hilda leaned her chair back and crossed her arms. “Midgardian transports can get you as far as Alfheim. From there, you’ll have to find your own way to get to Nidavellir. Maybe you could hire a pilot.”
“Almost all of our gul is going to the transport. We can’t afford to hire a pilot.”
“Then you’re not getting to Nidavellir.”
I huffed and rubbed my face. “We’ll figure something out. That’s our business. First, we have to get off of Midgard. We’ll focus on Prosperity for now. My friends and I will worry about the dwarfs later.”
Hilda stood from her seat. “I’ll meet you here tomorrow evening. Don’t be late.”
Trond smirked. “Don’t worry. We’re not going anywhere.”
Hilda shut the inn’s door behind her.
I stared at my empty plate. No public transport to Nidavellir. That would be a problem. We could ask the elfs for help, but I had no relationship with them. Why should they help a simple clansman from Midgard? I didn’t expect they would, but we’d come this far. I wasn’t backing out.
“Ragnvald?” I said.
“Yes?”
“Ask the gods to bless this journey. We’re going to need it.”
Thank you for reading chapter 4 of Ravengard!
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It seems they are in more of a bind then they originally thought. No help from the king, likely nonw from the Dwarves either unless they strike it rich. I'm curious how they will overcome these obstacles, as I'm sure they eventually will one way or another.
Wow, this is crazy! No help, and the options looking thin. Wonder what’ll happen next. Going to Alfheim sounds amazing! I can’t wait to see how that’s like.
Keep up the good work, Elliot!