Valkyrie: 2: The Runaway by Kate O'Hearn
Maya nudged her mother. ‘Go on and tell her.’
‘Tell me what?’
Her mother chuckled softly. ‘You are among a small handful of Valkyries who won their Challenge. You may count yourself among the elite.’
‘Mother won too,’ Freya’s second-oldest sister, Skaga, said happily, pointing to the golden sword at their mother’s side. ‘I was knocked out almost at the start.’
‘You didn’t really try,’ her mother scolded. She looked at all her daughters. ‘None of you did, except Freya.’
Maya shook her beautiful blonde head. ‘I’m not crazy. I’d already gone up against my Searcher in Chicago. I didn’t want to do it again so I let him win.’ Maya paused. ‘To be honest, he took it easy on me. When he knocked me down, he actually helped me get up again.’
Grul was seated at Maya’s shoulder. ‘Your beauty has once again charmed even the coldest Dark Searcher’s heart.’
Freya looked at Orus, expecting him to make some sarcastic remark, but her raven remained quiet. ‘I’m just glad it’s over. Maybe now he’ll leave me alone.’
‘I fear you have made a powerful enemy,’ her mother warned. ‘He is called Dirian and was one of the highest-ranking Dark Searchers. He has been stripped of his rank and grounded in disgrace. I just hope you need never venture to Utgard and the Keep of the Searchers. I doubt even Azrael will be able to help you if you two ever meet again.’
‘I have no reason to go there,’ Freya said. She frowned and gazed around. ‘Where is Azrael? I want to thank him for helping me.’
‘He’s in a meeting with Odin,’ her mother explained. ‘He said he was looking forward to seeing you today at the Tug-of-War.’
Maya grinned. ‘He also said that you shouldn’t expect any mercy from him. He and his angels intend to win, regardless of you being killed.’
Freya laughed lightly. ‘He can intend all he wants. We’re going to beat them.’
Her mother gave Freya a gentle kiss on the cheek. ‘Go prepare yourself. Dress in your best outfit and polish your armour. The Closing Ceremonies will begin right after the Tug-of-War and we are all to be in the final parade.’ As she walked away, she called back, ‘And don’t forget your helmet. You’ll be wearing that too!’
Freya had never been happier to bathe and get cleaned up. She wanted to scrub away her battle with the Dark Searcher and was happy she’d never have to see him again.
Archie arrived from his quarters, dressed in his best new clothes with Freya’s old sword attached to his hip. He helped her into her armour. ‘Now, wait here. We’ve got a surprise for you.’
He disappeared for a moment and returned, carrying her helmet. But something was different. The wings on her helmet had new feathers on each side. Jet-black feathers.
‘What happened to my helmet?’
‘Frigg did it.’
Archie explained how Odin’s wife said that Freya had earned the change in her helmet and status. ‘These are feathers taken from the Dark Searcher’s severed wing. She said it is to remind everyone of your win.’
Freya looked at her helmet in disgust. ‘These are Dirian’s feathers?’
Archie nodded. ‘I tried to tell her you wouldn’t like it. But she insisted.’
‘But I didn’t win. Dirian killed me.’
‘Not before you got your third lethal strike against him,’ Orus corrected. ‘Those feathers are a great honour, Freya; you must wear them with pride.’
Freya didn’t see them as an honour. They were a reminder of a lifelong enemy she had made.
‘Now, put on your new sword and let’s go.’
Freya, together with her mother, sisters and Archie, marched to Valhalla, showing off the golden swords won by Freya and Eir.
‘Loosen up a bit, Gee. You’re a hero,’ Archie said proudly, taking his place beside her. ‘Savour the moment.’
Freya smiled uncomfortably at everyone that cheered her along. ‘I think I preferred it when they ignored me.’
‘Are you ever happy?’ Orus teased. ‘First you think everyone hates you because you’ve got black wings. Now that everyone loves you, you don’t like it either.’
Freya looked up at her raven and smiled. ‘The only thing that makes me happy is flying with you and Archie.’
Orus puffed up his shiny black feathers and stood taller.
‘Oh, please,’ Grul complained from Maya’s shoulder.
They soon joined the large parade of competitors filing through the streets of Asgard. Heimdall caught up with Maya and took her hand as they continued on to the battlefield at Valhalla.
The whole arena had been decorated with brightly coloured ribbons. Flagpoles rose high in the sky, encircling the field and proudly displaying the flags of the ten realms. In the centre of the arena, a long stage had been built with tall poles erected at either end. Odin and Frigg sat together in thrones at the front of the stage. As more and more crowds arrived, they rose to greet everyone.
‘Welcome, one and all!’ Odin cheered. ‘As we draw the Ten Realms Challenge to a close, there is one more Challenge yet to be won. The Tug-of-War. Will the Angels of Death and the Valkyries please come forward?’
This was the first ever friendly competition between the Valkyries and the Angels of Death. There had always been a simmering of resentment between the two winged species because of their similar jobs in the land of the humans. While the Angels of Death guided the souls of humanity to their afterlives, the Valkyries reaped selected souls of brave warriors who died on Earth’s battlefields to bring them to Valhalla. It was a subtle but important difference which at times caused friction.
‘This is it,’ Freya said. She caught Archie by the hand. ‘Let’s show Azrael what we can do.’
Archie stayed put. ‘I’m not a Valkyrie.’
For the first time since he’d arrived in Asgard, Freya’s mother put her arm lightly around his shoulders and smiled warmly at him. ‘We would be honoured if you would join us, Archie.’ She paused. ‘Just this once.’
Archie grinned and walked with Freya and the other Valkyries up to the thick rope that had been laid out the length of the field. He looked up at the poles rising high into the sky at either end of the stage.
‘What are those poles for?’
Freya grinned. ‘We’ve all got wings, Archie. You didn’t think this Tug-of-War would stay on the ground did you?’
His eyes flew from Freya up to the very tops of the poles. ‘We’re going to fly up there?’
She nodded. ‘So you’d better hold on tight!’
The Angels of Death were already waiting on one side of the ribbon that had been tied round the centre of the rope. Azrael smiled brightly at Freya. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ Freya responded. Then she laughed. ‘In fact, I’m feeling strong enough to beat you!’
‘Powerful words,’ Azrael chuckled. ‘But can you back them up?’
Odin jumped down from the stage and approached the competitors. ‘Take your positions!’
Eir indicated Freya to take lead position with Archie behind her in second place.
‘But you’re the head Valkyrie,’ Freya protested. ‘You must take first position.’
Her mother whispered in her ear. ‘Azrael has asked for you and Archie to be lead. He’s almost as much of a trickster as Loki. Don’t be surprised if he tries something.’ Her mother straightened and then winked at Azrael as colour came to her cheeks.
‘Did your mother just blush?’ Archie cried.
‘Azrael is very handsome,’ Freya said. ‘And his wings are beautiful. Half the Valkyries have a big crush on him. The other half have fallen in love with all the other Angels of Death.’
‘What about you?’ Archie teased. ‘Do you have a crush on Azrael?’
Freya was saved from having to answer as Odin’s voice boomed out, ‘Competitors, pick up the rope. The first team to drag the centre ribbon past one of the poles at the end of the stage will win. On my mark, you will be
Odin raised his spear high in the air. As he brought it down, he shouted, ‘Go!’
Immediately the slack on the rope pulled tight. Within seconds, the competitors on either side opened their wings and started to flap.
Archie struggled to hold on as the Valkyries and Angels of Death lifted up into the air, taking the rope with them.
Freya pulled as hard as she could, beating her wings to help her balance while she heaved. Directly across from her, Azrael and his angels were doing the same.
‘Pull!’ her mother shouted from the back of the line. ‘Pull!’
The ribbon marking the centre hardly moved as the teams pulled and dragged on the rope. The crowds erupted in cheers.
‘Pull!’ Odin roared from the stage. ‘Valkyries, pull!’
Even Thor and Balder were cheering on the Valkyries. Raising their tankards of mead, they laughed and cried encouragement. Frost Giants charged forward and stood at eye level with the Tug-of-War as the teams struggled to move the ribbon past the pole at their end.
It was soon clear that the Valkyries and the Angels of Death were too evenly matched and at this rate the Challenge would take all day.
As Freya strained to pull as hard as she could, Azrael leaned forward with a playful glint in his eye. ‘Freya, I meant to tell you . . .’ he called over the grunting of the angels behind him. ‘Alma Johnson sends her love. She has been reunited with her son, Tyrone. He says hello too!’
‘Alma?’ Freya cried. Loosening her grip, she remembered the kind old woman she’d met in Chicago. Her son, Tyrone Johnson, had been the first soldier she’d ever reaped and it was him that set her on the path to Earth.
‘Alma is dead?’ Shocked and saddened by the passing of the old woman, Freya’s thoughts immediately turned to her granddaughters, Tamika and Uniik. Freya and Tamika had become close friends and she missed her dearly.
Thinking of her friend, Freya released the rope.
‘Gee, no!’ Archie cried behind her. ‘Don’t stop!’
With his lack of wings, Archie was now doing more harm than good to the Valkyries’ side, as he simply hung on to the rope to keep from falling. Without Freya’s efforts, the Valkyries were being dragged closer to the pole at the opposite end of the stage.
‘Freya!’ her mother called. ‘Pull!’
But it was too late. By the time Freya realized what she was doing, the ribbon was too close to the Angels of Death’s pole for her to make a difference. Her heart sank as she watched the ribbon slip past the marker.
‘Winner!’ Odin boomed from the ground. ‘The Angels of Death win!’
‘You cheated!’ Freya cried as she swooped down to the ground and charged Azrael.
The tall leader of the angels was shaking hands with his people and patting them on the wings in congratulations. Turning to her, he put his hand on his heart. ‘You wound me, Freya – such accusations! An Angel of Death never cheats.’ He burst out laughing. ‘Well, maybe I did cheat a little, but I wasn’t lying. Alma has joined her son. She asked me to tell you she is out of pain. She often checks on the girls and they are doing well.’
Her mother came up and offered her hand to Azrael. ‘I knew you were up to something when you asked for Freya to be put in lead position. That was naughty of you.’
Shaking the Valkyrie’s hand, Azrael turned on his charm. ‘Perhaps next time you’ll take the lead and we can do this again.’
Her mother grinned like a shy schoolgirl. ‘Yes, next time, Azrael.’
After the Tug-of-War, the full Closing Ceremonies began. There was a party on the battlefield as the realms joined together to celebrate another successful Challenge.
The singing, dancing, eating and drinking continued into the night. Trolls laughed with the warriors of Valhalla. Frost Giants and Light Elves danced together and the Dark Elves played with the dragons and Fire Giants. The Valkyries danced and sang with the Angels of Death. Only the Dark Searchers were missing. Freya knew she should have been grateful for their absence. But she wasn’t. She was haunted by the memory of the Dark Searcher with the white wings.
For three full days the celebrations continued until, little by little, the competitors drifted away from Asgard and returned to their own realms.
CHAPTER FOUR
It didn’t take long for normality to resume in Asgard. Freya and Archie returned to their daily routine of mornings spent cleaning the stables, and afternoons in training – Archie at Valhalla with Crixus and the human warriors, and Freya with the Valkyries.
But as a new day dawned, after only an hour of work, Freya’s mother burst into the stables. The scowl had returned to the tall Valkyrie’s beautiful face.
‘Freya, have you done something I should know about?’
Instantly on her guard, Freya shook her head. ‘I don’t think so.’
Her mother frowned. ‘Then can you tell me why you and Archie have been summoned to Valhalla? You are to meet Odin there.’
‘Odin?’ Freya cried. ‘Why?’
‘I was hoping you could tell me.’
‘We haven’t done anything,’ Archie said. ‘I swear.’
‘If you have done nothing, you have nothing to fear. Come, I will escort you there myself.’
Freya put down her shovel and they followed Eir out of the stables and down the steep hill to Valhalla. Little was said on the way. But as they walked beside the battlefield, now stripped of flags and filled with dead warriors who had resumed their daily fighting, Freya asked, ‘Do you think we’re in more trouble?’
Her mother paused. ‘I really don’t know. I had your sisters keep a close eye on you during the Challenge and they haven’t told me of anything you did wrong.’
The tall, wide doors of the Great Heavenly Hall were always open. They followed Freya’s mother through the long chambers and finally into the grand Banquet Hall.
Odin sat at the end of the hall in his raised chair. He was lightly stroking the heads of his two pet wolves, sitting before him. Frigg sat beside him and waved them forward.
‘Come!’ she called. ‘Come closer.’
Freya was surprised to see Azrael standing next to Odin’s chair. He was back in his official robes and smiling gently. Freya, Archie and her mother all bowed as they approached their leader.
‘You summoned us, Great Odin,’ her mother said formally.
Odin rose and stepped down from his chair. With Azrael at his side, they approached Freya. Odin grasped her chin lightly in his large hand. He inspected her face closely with his one piercing-blue eye. As always, the other eye was covered with a gold patch. Freya often wondered if he actually had traded his eye for wisdom. And if so, what was he like before the trade?
‘You have recovered from your unfortunate ordeal with Dirian?’
Freya was almost too terrified to speak. The last time she had been this close to Odin, he was preparing to cut off her wings and banish her from Asgard.
‘Yes,’ she mumbled.
‘Thank you, Odin . . . ’ Orus whispered softly in her ear. ‘Say “thank you, Odin.”’
Freya corrected herself. ‘Yes, I am fine, thank you, Odin.’
‘Good, good.’ Odin paused and glanced over to Azrael before focusing on her again. ‘I have a mission for you.’
‘Me?’ Freya said timidly.
‘Actually for you and Archie,’ Azrael added, coming closer.
Freya could feel her mother stiffening beside her. Her voice was distinctly uncomfortable as she said, ‘Great Odin, if it is an important mission, perhaps we should send one of my other Valkyries. One who is more experienced than Freya? I can recommend—’
‘No!’ Odin boomed. The sound seemed to echo throughout all Valhalla. ‘I need Freya and Archie for this. She has spent time living in Midgard and has experience with humans of this age.’
‘And with Archie as her guide, there is little that can go wrong,’ Azrael added.
‘Forgive me, Odin,’ Freya’s mother said, bowing deeply. ‘I meant no di
Odin focused on Freya again. The intensity of his stare was making her very uncomfortable. She didn’t need her powers to know that Odin was troubled by something.
‘Azrael has reminded me that my punishments can be too harsh and are not always just.’
Freya lowered her head away from his penetrating eyes. ‘Sir, if you are speaking of our punishment . . .’
‘Your punishment was just,’ Odin said quickly. ‘I am speaking of another. One who was banished a very long time ago. One whom I de-winged and blinded, leaving her to wander the World of Man alone.’
‘Do you mean Frigha?’ Freya asked timidly, recalling the name of the only other Valkyrie ever to defy Odin and run away from Asgard.
Odin nodded. ‘But her true name was not Frigha, but Brünnhilde. It is time to bring her home.’
Freya’s mother cried out and pulled her hands to her mouth.
‘Hush!’ Odin commanded. ‘Eir, if you cannot contain yourself, you may go. But do not speak of this to anyone. Do you understand me?’
‘Yes, Odin, as you command.’ Eir bowed, nodded once to Freya and then hurried out of the Banquet Hall.
Freya turned to watch her mother’s retreat, and noticed that Eir was trembling. She wondered what could have upset her so greatly.
A heavy hand pressed down on her shoulder. ‘Freya,’ Odin said, drawing her attention back to him. ‘You will leave here now. You will not return to your home, you will not speak to anyone about this or tell anyone where you are going.’
‘Where are we going?’ Freya asked timidly.
‘Midgard,’ Frigg said. She reached down beside her chair and pulled out Freya’s golden sword. Stepping down beside her husband, she handed it to Freya. ‘A Valkyrie must never venture to Midgard without her weapon. We want you to find Brünnhilde and bring her back to Asgard. It is time her banishment ended and she returned home.’ Frigg pulled out from her pocket a small glass vial. ‘Give this to Brünnhilde. My husband’s punishments can be harsh, but they are not always permanent. When Brünnhilde drinks this, her eyesight will be restored.’