Thori was momentarily struck speechless at his impertinence.
“We’ll see,” Odin replied coolly. “The sooner we settle our quarrels, the sooner the bloodshed ceases.”
His father’s placating words only fueled Thori’s anger. They wereAesir,gods of war and victory. It was their birthright to raid and conquer, and theVanirhad stolen from Asgard. So why was his father suddenly so keen to forge a peace with the bloody sorcerers of Vanaheim?
Fuming quietly, Thori followed Odin to take their seats.
As the delegations took their places at the great table, he found himself directly across from Njord. A coincidence? Or were theDvergarlooking to provoke a confrontation?
Odin had commanded him to stand back and listen during the negotiations, but he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to examine Njord carefully. Up close, he could make out the fine lines etched into the corners of the sea god’s eyes, evidence of centuries that made Thori’s decades seem like mere moments. The sleeves of Njord’s blue tunic were rolled up, his forearms adorned with tattoos and smooth scars that bore witness torelentless sword training. He looked pretty warlike for a god of fishermen and sea-faring merchants.
Frekegar had positioned himself behind his king as Lofarr took his seat at the head of the table, his hand never straying far from the haft of his ax. The dwarf’s eyes seemed to linger on both Njord and Thori in turn, as if measuring who might provide the greater threat should tempers flare.
“Let’s speak ofwergild,” one of theVanradvisors began, unrolling a parchment filled with precise runes.
Wergild?TheVanirexpected compensation for their fallen at Nóatún? First of all, they should repay what they owed Asgard! Still, Thori shifted uncomfortably as the list of damages was recited. Longships burned. Homes destroyed. Lives cut short.
“And of course,” the advisor continued, “there is the matter of Jökull.”
Tension rose among theVanir, and Njord’s knuckles whitened where they rested on the stone table.
“Who?” Thori asked before he could stay his tongue.
Njord’s gaze, murderous with rage, locked onto him.
“You attack our shores, slaughter our people, and don’t even know the names of those you’ve killed?”
“I know the names of my fallen warriors,” Thori shot back. “Each and every one. I personally see to it that rune stones are erected for them to tell of their honorable deeds.”
“And yet you ask about Jökull as if she were a missing piece of silver rather than a sacred being.”
“It was considered common knowledge among the wise that the ice wyrm had left the Nine Worlds,” Odin interjected, words laced with burning curiosity.
Njord’s responding laugh was as sharp as breaking ice.
“Common knowledge? So you decided to test this rumor by leading your forces against Vanaheim’s shore? See if you could lure out a dragon?”
Ice wyrm? Dragon? The words made Thori’s stomach turn with a dreadful suspicion. The massive creature he’d seen that day, its scales gleaming in the white and blue hues of a glacier. It had come over their war fleet like an avalanche, breathing devastating hailstorms instead of fire. The warriors had called it a frost giant’sseiðr, possibly the work of the ghastly Perhonen. And Thori had believed their words. But now…
“I didn’t know of your dragon,” Odin said smoothly. “We simply strove to reclaim the hoard you stole from our lands after you decided to disregard the peace treaty our fathers negotiated.”
“Jökullwasthe last of her kind in the Nine Realms, my companion for decades, as you very well know. And you send your foolish brat to kill her.”
“I didn’t know—” Thori began, then hastily interrupted himself.
When the beast had descended upon his men again and again, he’d picked up a discarded spear. It had been an impossible throw. Utter desperation. Yet it had found its aim. A fortunate cast indeed, finding the gap between armored scales at the joint of the wing and shoulder. But he hadn’t known the creature had a name. That it had been someone’s companion.
“I was defending mylið,” Thori argued.
What had Njord been expecting him to do anyway? Should he have spared the monster that killed his warriors? The notion was just laughable.
“Defending? It was your warriors who were raiding our homes!” aVanrshieldmaiden said sharply.
“By orders of the Allfather! To reclaim what’s rightfully ours!” Thori said heatedly, then immediately regretted the words as his father’s expression clouded.
What had he done wrong now? The Allfather’s decrees were beyond question! Even theVanirhad to realize that.
Arngrim chuckled darkly from his position behind the king. “The Thunderer has a sharp tongue that his mind can’t keep up with,” he said, just loudly enough to be heard all around the table.
