Episode X: Not A Chance In Hel
A Mythic Fantasy Action-Adventure Story
Previously: Despite being a goddess of wisdom and history, Sága seems to have forgotten some important myths from the past.
MY HEART SANK at the words the truth-telling specter had spewed. I looked down at my shackles and hoped I’d imagined it all. Maybe I was still under the influence of the mists of Madness. That would make perfect sense — my inability to remember Skuld’s myths, the Valkyries charges against Odin — all imagined.
“I think I like this unfortunate specter thing more now.” Skuld’s storm-filled eyes flashed. “But why do you look so surprised to hear this? Tell me, wise Sága. What is the primary objective of a warlord?”
It wasn’t my imagination. I swallowed hard and looked away. “To seize military, economic, and political power.”
“And, what does a warlord hunger for most?”
“Control and admiration,” I said.
“Mm-hmm.” Skuld put her hands on her hips. “So, what has happened each and every time in history that a warlord lost the control and admiration they seized?”
“More war.”
Skuld’s brow furrowed. “Then why would you think this time would be any different?”
“I hoped—”
Skuld scoffed. “You hoped your admiration had changed him. That he wasn’t a warlord anymore, but a wise being, capable of self-reflection and remorse. Please. That’s the tragic story of every oppressed woman in the nine worlds.”
My gaze shifted back and forth between Skuld and Brynhild. Surely, they didn’t believe any of this was my fault. I had no province over what went right or wrong in the nine worlds.
Brynhild laughed at Skuld’s mocking. “Except that the goddesses of Asgard weren’t ever the oppressed.”
“That’s half right,” Skuld said. “I’d say they were oppressed...but by their own accord. Take poor Sága, here. It was too much fun being self-centered and drunk in Asgard to bother looking around at other beings that gods like Odin left suffering in their wake. Their apathy was their oppression.”
“Ugh,” I said, burying my face in my arms. “I am not the bad guy in all of this! I did what I could to fix it!”
“You mean you did what you could to fix it for him! You just wanted everything to go back to normal... for the party in Asgard to go on!”
I rattled my chains. “So what if that’s what I wanted? We can’t all be warriors for every just cause. Some of us prefer to keep the peace instead.”
“Keep the peace at what cost?” Skuld threw up her arms and stomped to the door. “You disgust me! I’m done here.”
I remained silent when she left, unsure what the point of Skuld’s ranting had been. What could I have done differently as a goddess of wisdom and history to help the likes of her? She was a Valkyrie for Goddess sake. If there was fighting to be done, she was more than capable of doing it. I finally concluded that her ire at me was misplaced and pinned Brynhild with my stare. “I want to go back in my cell, please.”
She sat down and crossed her arms. “Well, you’re still a prisoner of Náströnd at the moment and I’m not done with you yet, so what you want is immaterial.”
Something in her tone struck me as odd. I bit my lower lip and tried to read her facial expression without success, but I sensed she wasn’t pleased with what was supposed to happen next. I took a stab in the dark. “I’m still a prisoner at the moment. Does that mean I get to go home when you’re done with me?”
“Ha!” Brynhild laughed out loud. “You really think it’s that simple, don’t you? Sága Vörsdottir interferes with the Council’s order of restorative justice and, afterward, just gets to go home like nothing happened?”
“Why not?” I asked, clutching my fur cloak. “I don’t think I did anything wrong that I haven’t more than paid for by enduring nine nights in Náströnd.”
Brynhild scowled. “You should have minded your own business. Now, you have more to answer for than you know. Like this thing,” Brynhild said, pointing at the specter. “What was your purpose in making it this way?”
“Odin requested him as a scribe, but he was preaching the All-Father nonsense. That sort of talk was making it difficult for Odin to comply with the Council’s order, so I cursed the specter to tell the truth,” I said, holding my palms up. “I thought it wise, and even entertaining, to show Odin how much the scribe lied. My intention was to lighten the mood of an otherwise dark visit to Sökkvabekkr Hall. Nothing more.”
“And what was Odin’s response to your curse?”
I sucked in a breath. “He was angry with me.”
“I bet,” Brynhild snorted. “The Council has charged me with interrogating it, but I didn’t understand some of its responses until now.” The Valkyrie straightened. “We believe that Odin’s request to have this particular human reanimated was a provocation. He never intended to comply with the Council’s order to rewrite the myths. This thing is proof of that.”
“Why would he... what sort of provocation?” I asked, my mind racing through every interaction I had with Odin after he received the order of corrective actions from the Council.
“You mean Odin never mentioned to you that this thing in its human form was involved in falsifying the myths as they were originally written in the thirteenth century?”
“Oh, no,” the specter said, his corporeal form shrinking. “No one was supposed to know that. Not even Sága Vörsdottir. It was a secret.”
Brynhild smiled and rose from her seat. “This thing really can’t lie?”
“No,” I said, glaring at the specter. “The curse prevents it.”
“That’s great!” Brynhild said, still smiling as she left the table to bang on the iron door. Two Valkyries entered, one holding a wash basin and the other holding clothes and extra armor.
I got up from the bench and backed away. My heart pounded in my chest. “What is the armor for? I’m no fighter!”
“Then I guess you don’t have to wear it,” Brynhild shrugged. “But personally, I wouldn’t ride the Wild Hunt through Helheim without it. The big storms are horribly bumpy. And if you get struck by lightning... let’s just say ouch! If you prefer, you can make the journey on foot. I suppose we can round up some Hel-shoes to keep your feet sound.” Brynhild looked me up and down. “I can’t promise the rest of you won’t be harmed, though. And that route will take another nine nights to complete, so I’ll have to let Hel know you’ll be late.”
“I’ll wear the armor,” I said, my mouth drying out at the thought of a nine-night journey on which I would have to cross the sharp irons in the river Gjoll, walk through the mile-wide moor of thorns, and travel the dark valleys of Hel’s northern lands. “Could I at least get a goblet of mead before we board the Wild Hunt?”
Brynhild shook her head. “Not a chance in Hel.”
a note from the author…
I hope you enjoyed Episode X! It appears that, despite all that’s happened, Sága’s adventure is not yet over. Instead of going home, she will be transported to Hel’s hall. What could possibly go wrong for her there?😏
Wonder what she’s not seeing!