Larson stared, unable to make sense of what he saw. Fenrir writhed, pawing madly at a string which seemed too slight to hold anything larger than a house cat. Taziar perched on Larson's sleeping blanket, watching the wolf with unbridled amusement. Larson prepared to question the Shadow Climber, but the sight of Gaelinar emerging, grimy and tattered, from the scrub struck Larson mute with astonishment.
Fenrir howled crude oaths, but the pressure of the magical rope kept its words too hoarse to decipher. Understanding came to Larson in a rush. He pointed an accusing finger at Taziar. "You lied to me." Sheathing his sword, he jabbed another digit at Gaelinar. "You set me up with Fenrir. You bastards used me for wolf bait."
Gaelinar shrugged. "We had no choice."
Larson would not let his mentor off that easily. "I almost got killed in that cave. What the hell were you thinking?"
Taziar accepted the burden of an explanation. "After Fenrir told us it couldn't be killed, it occurred to me there are other ways to be rid of enemies. I fetched the only rope I knew was capable of holding it, the magical cord the gods used for centuries. Then, while you played mind wars with Bramin, we plotted."
Fenrir ceased thrashing, listening with the same intent curiosity as Larson.
Taziar rose. "We couldn't tell you the plan. We might just as well have stood on the city walls of Cullinsberg and shouted it to Fenrir. I pretended to go in the other direction which gave me the chance to trail you unseen and set up the snare while you and Gaelinar slept." He trotted to Larson's side. "I was a little disappointed you accepted my leaving so easily."
Larson smiled, breathing without difficulty now. Drying sweat prickled his skin to gooseflesh. "I was tired. And that line about Astryd was a good touch." He turned to Gaelinar. "So it was Shadow following, not Bramin."
Gaelinar shook his head. "No, I told the truth about Bramin. In fact, I spoke to him in the woods. Not a pleasant conversation. He'll stalk us all the way to Geir-magnus' estate, awaiting his first opportunity to kill you. Your arrangement means we can't do anything about him." Gaelinar's stance went suddenly angry. "In the future, Allerum, I don't want you making any vows for me. He verbally abused me in a fashion which would have earned any other man the thrill of having his head detached from his body."
Taziar confirmed Gaelinar's assessment. "I figured you knew Bramin was there. He seized every chance to make you aware of his presence. It made my job that much simpler."
Larson needed to know one thing more from Gaelinar. "And your fall through the crevice?"
"Real." Gaelinar rubbed an abraded elbow with a hand which was no longer swollen. "But I faked the death scream and then lay still. With you at Fenrir's back, I didn't think the wolf would have time to make certain. I needed him to chase you into the cave, but I doubted he would do so if he knew I was alive and waiting for him outside. Of course, the spear was a ploy to give you reason to lead Fenrir into that particular cave. I wanted the wolf to know the same plan I fed you. That way, it entered the cave believing it held the advantage." He grinned wickedly. "There's no surer way to get a man Slinking about something than to tell him not to."
"Very clever." Despite the success, Larson felt irritated that his companions had used his handicap to their advantage. "But tell me this. Now that we've leashed the puppy-dog, what do we do with it? If we leave it, someone will let it go. Most probably Bramin. I doubt Fenrir will have the decency to heel." He considered. "I guess we can always keep our distance and stone it. We'll know for sure whether or not it can die."
Gaelinar tossed his head. Wind caught white hair, fanning it like a horse's mane. "Possible or not, killing Fenrir can only further disrupt Midgard's balance."
Taziar added, "If we can drag Fenrir to the Bifrost Bridge, I'll bet the gods would help us."
Larson pulled his frayed cloak across his shoulders. "Fenrir's an evil, ugly monster. What makes you think the gods will take it back?"
The gods will take it back.
"The gods will take it back," Taziar echoed.
It took Larson several seconds to realize someone other than his companions spoke the initial statement. Vidarr? Larson tried hopefully.
A friendly aura filled Larson's mind. It's me, Allerum. Fenrir was never intended to become a burden to mankind, only to the gods.
Taziar gave a simultaneous explanation which Larson never heard. He held up a finger to silence his companion, then returned to the conversation in his mind. So why wouldn't any of the gods help us catch the brute? We all could have gotten killed.
There are laws which govern hostilities between gods. Fenrir isn't actually a god, but it is the son of one. Quite frankly, the fact that we never killed Fenrir before is the only reason the balance hasn't become skewed beyond salvaging. Fenrir has taken Loki's place as a strong Chaos-force.
Larson studied the great form of the wolf. Sort of a god substitute, eh? So we need to get it to the Bifrost Bridge?
By Thor's beard, no. Vidarr seemed taken aback by Larson's suggestion. The gods will take care of Fenris-wulf I wouldn't allow your quest to be delayed another several days.
Afraid to lose Fenrir after the tremendous effort and pain of catching it, Larson warned Vidarr. Bramin's here, somewhere. He may try to free Fenrir before you can lead it away.
Amusement colored Vidarr's reply. Believe me, Allerum. If Bramin interferes, we will consider it a direct affront to the gods. Nothing would please me more than to have Bramin break his vow so I could pound him back to Hel. Anything more you wish to know?
Curiosity goaded Larson. One thing. How did you manage to show up just when I wanted to speak with you?
A strained pause followed. Larson sensed reluctance before Vidarr answered warily. You have twice abandoned your quest. Yesterday, you transported me to a fiery forest with trees which looked like a child's drawing. There, some puny, mortal archer without a bow shot an unshafted, unfletched arrowhead through my arm. Vidarr grumbled as if to himself, Still damn well hurts, too. He continued in his normal pattern. I promise I'll avoid your memories. But until you retrieve the rod, I have no choice but to keep a close watch over you. Can you live with that?
Larson yawned, stretching muscles bruised from his battle with Fenrir. The excitement finished, the fatigue of two sleepless nights settled over him. I can live with that, but I can't live without rest. If it's all right with you and all the gods in the heavens, I'm going to lie here for a week. Larson picked his way to the rumpled pile of blankets. Offering no explanation to his companions, he collapsed upon the padded rock and fell instantly asleep.
PART III:
CHAPTER 12: Geirmagnus