Read Hammered for Free Online

anything. Still, he didn’t know who or what I was, what my goal was, or where I was. Thus Thor and Freyr were going to Yggdrasil on a fact-finding mission, perhaps along with other gods as well—but not Odin himself. I’d bet Odin was on his way to his silver throne right now, if he wasn’t there already. He’d want to search for me and dispatch a proper welcoming party—so that’s why I had to act now, before he had a chance to » see all « from his throne. Ratatosk had been a bit hazy on the distance between Gladsheim and Valaskjálf, so there was no telling how much time I had left.
    The unmannerly chaos of the woods changed after four miles to measured orchards in stately rows; the branches of pear trees, plums, apples, and more bore silent witness to my passage, and then a slow, deep river curled into view, perhaps the same one I’d crossed earlier. Suspecting this served as the border between Vanaheim and Alfheim, I kept to the south side of it and looked for halls nestled on either shore. Another mile brought me to them.
    On the north side of the river, Freyr’s hall seemed to grow like a sturdy oak in the middle of a lush garden still blooming late into November; it appeared organically grown rather than constructed, yet I could still discern that here were walls and a watertight roof, as comfortable and secure as any other hall. Spaced randomly about the grounds on carved wooden pedestals were woven baskets overflowing with produce. Wee nocturnal animals were taking advantage of these offerings, and an owl swooped down to take advantage of the wee nocturnal animals. The warm glow of Freyr’s hearth fire could be seen through the windows, which were open to the air—as was his door. A path led from his step to the boundary of his garden, which then turned south and widened to kiss the edge of a sturdy, handsome bridge floating above the river. Bold planks would allow three to walk abreast upon it, or it could support large animals and carts.
    The path continued on my side of the river once the bridge touched the shore. It led straight to a stouter, smaller hall, clearly constructed rather than grown, but every inch of it was carved with runes and scenes of brave Viking deeds. I crept closer until I could read the runes. They were skalds of one form or another, proclaiming the hall to be that of Idunn and Bragi, long may they live and love and so on.
    My art appreciation was curtailed by the sound of low, intense voices coming from the hall. The door and windows were open, just like Freyr’s, and the fire inside was more for its light than its warmth.
    » Get closer, « imaginary Kirk said. » I want to hear what they’re saying. «
    » I agree, « said imaginary Spock. » The additional intelligence might prove to be useful. « I told them both I liked it better when they argued, as I picked my way carefully forward until I was crouching underneath the front window of the hall.
    The warm, rich voice of a woman fluttered into my ears: » … what this means? If the Norns are truly dead, then their prophecies may be null. We could be truly free, Bragi, think of it! «
    A sonorous baritone voice rumbled contemplatively. » Ragnarok, null? « A loudy thump and the scrape of chair legs on a wooden floor suggested someone had sat down heavily. » Perhaps then there is hope for us all. «
    » Yes! « the woman enthused. I assumed her to be Idunn. » And there is hope for us specifically! Do you not understand? Perhaps we could finally have a child! The doom they laid upon us may have died with them! « I heard kissing noises and then a throaty chuckle from the baritone.
    » Ah, I see. Only one way to find out, isn’t there? « The kissing noises became more frequent, and these were shortly followed by other, less chaste noises and heavy breathing. I sank dejectedly onto my haunches, realizing this might take a while. These were not teenagers who finished such business in a few frenzied minutes. The long-lived