Then I remembered Surt and the sons of Muspell, and kicked another divot out of the grass.
And what about the rest of the gods? They weren't likely to take Odin's murder lying down. Thor had already tried to kill me once. If I went back to the world I'd been born in, I'd be a sitting duck for any potshot the gods cared to take.
But in Valhalla, with an army at my back...
Hell, maybe I could even convince the Aesir they were better off without Odin, and get them to throw in with me and the Einherjar.
Crazier things had happened.
I looked up at Gary. He stood with his arms folded patiently, waiting for me to think things through.
"So," I stalled, "I always knew you'd be an officer someday, Vernon. I guess you'll get to be a general here, huh?"
His eyes glinted briefly as he acknowledged my surrender—on one point, at least—then he grimaced.
"No, we don't run that kind of a military organization here, Randy."
"Huh? Why not? What do you do, for Christ's sake?"
He shrugged. "Mostly practice hacking at each other. The invasion is expected soon, so we just fight it out every day in one great big horde until it gets here."
I looked at him in disbelief; then snorted.
"Jeez, Vernon, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. Didn't you learn anything? And you were going to be an officer? I thought you guys learned strategy, and battle planning, and all that crap."
Gary raised one eyebrow in my direction. "You got any better ideas?"
"Well, sure. You could start training programs. I mean, those guys are pitiful. Pitiful! Hacking at each other like a bunch of Stone Age numbskulls. I mean, if you really want to beat someone in a war, there are lots of better ways to go about winning it. Christ, Gary, even the newbies we got stuck with were better than that."
He grinned. "Well, yeah, that's a good point, Randy. But who's going to do it? There's no one to lead this ragtag army—and they sure aren't going to listen to me!"
I shot him a dark look. "Vernon... "
He waited.
"You set me up, admit it."
He grinned; then sobered again almost immediately. "Randy, look at it this way. The whole time we were in the Army back home, you spent more time bitching about the system than any man I know. You complained about stupid officers; you moaned about how things <MI>should be done; and about what you'd do if you had half a chance. Well, dammit, you've got more than half a chance right here, handed to you on a silver platter."
A faint breeze stirred my hair.
He chuckled nastily. "It's almost poetic justice, wouldn't you say? You actually went to hell to prove your point. Well, good buddy, you got rid of Odin. And now you've got a chance to rewrite the rules. You've got a whole army ready to let you tell it what to do next. The Einherjar already think you're the hottest thing since bottled beer." He shrugged then. "You've already proven you can. All you have left is to decide whether or not you will."
I didn't care for the implications.
If I left Valhalla now, I'd end up feeling for the rest of my life like I'd run out on him. On the whole world.
Which would only be the truth.
Besides, what would I ever amount to, back there? Shopkeeper? Short-order cook? Even if I went to college, even if I managed to make a ton of money...
Surt and his cronies weren't about to call off their invasion just because it might inconvenience Randy Barnes, Odin-Slayer. In fact, if I were Surt, I'd make damned sure I did invade; especially if Odin's killer was a big enough fool to leave Valhalla and the Einherjar in disorganized chaos.
Gary had made his point.
I didn't know if the Einherjar would follow me if I stayed, although he seemed to think they would, and he knew them. Hell, if I were a soldier in the employ of a god, and somebody with balls enough to kill him came along...
Maybe they would follow me, at that.
I just might be able to make a real difference.
At the very least, I'd have a job. That thought almost made me grin. I met Gary's eyes. And he, of course, knew my decision before I did.
"Right," I said briskly.
Gary did grin. "Right. We can work out the, uh, details later."
I nodded.
He clapped my shoulder. "Welcome to Hell, RB!"
I gave him a sour grin and jerked my head toward Skuld.
"I've got a little unfinished business over there."
He chuckled. "What's one goddess, more or less, for the guy who killed Odin?"
I snorted disgustedly and started toward Skuld. Obviously, Gary had not spent any amount of time in Skuld's company. She still scared me spitless.
I plunged feet-first into it before I lost my nerve.
"Okay, Skuld, you gave me these birds, and they'll be useful. But what about Fenrir and Sleipnir? Can I trust them?"
She laughed, a tinkling, crackling sound in the superheated air around us. "My dear hero, it's a free universe. I have absolutely no idea. You'll just have to take your chances, I'm afraid."
To my surprise, I grinned, heartened by her honesty. "Yeah. I guess I will. And so," I added grimly, "will Surt."
I thought I detected a glint of satisfaction in her burning eyes. "Yes." She smiled through the heat haze. Her teeth glowed like embers. "Do not doubt your strength of will, Randy, nor doubt that you possess that which makes a man a hero. You have made yourself what you are." Her smile widened. "Your children with Rangrid will be something truly to behold. I look forward to them with pleasure. Provided, of course, the plans of our southern friends don't interfere."
I nodded.
Rangrid looked from Skuld to me and back again. "I... don't understand... You're not going to—"
I came to Rangrid's rescue. "Skuld wanted to return Hugin and Munin to Valhalla. She figured I'd find them useful. What's the matter; don't you think feathers become me? Come to think of it, birdshit doesn't. How the hell did Odin clean it off his clothes?"
"Birdshit... ?" Rangrid was looking a little round-eyed again.
"You'd best explain things after you get her back to Valhalla," Skuld suggested dryly.
"I think you're right. Thanks. For, um, everything."
The Norn nodded gravely.
Rangrid gave me a hand up. I settled myself on Sleipnir's forward set of withers. Skuld lifted a hand in farewell; then we were transferring between worlds with a blur and thunderclap.
Chapter Twenty-One
When we emerged in Valhalla, the Einherjar were milling around, clustered into little knots of intense conversation; but no one had left the scene of battle, except—notably—Tyr and Thor. Fenrir snarled at Sleipnir, who trumpeted a challenge right back.
"Hey." I punched Sleipnir's arched neck. "Chill out."
He shook his neck, but subsided. Fenrir was still growling; but not as loudly.
"You, too," I muttered.
The wolf whined; then yawned, and settled back on his haunches again.
"How did you do that?" Rangrid demanded.
I glanced around. "I dunno."
She grinned. "That's what I like about you."
I'll steal a kiss anywhere, anytime. Especially Rangrid's.
Unfortunately, the Einherjar caught sight of us right about then. A howling tumult assaulted our ears. Gradually the noise resolved itself into discernible syllables: "Ran... dy! Ran... dy! Ran... dy!"
I didn't much feel like repeating Odin's pompous salute. I just grinned tiredly, and slid to the ground. It was a long way down. Rangrid was right behind me. Fenrir damn near knocked me off my feet. He licked my face half off, and whined joyously in the back of his throat. Wolves don't bark; but Fenrir uttered a shrill little yip, and took my whole shoulder very gently in his teeth.