Leif the Unlucky

After Belle's near death by drowning, I fashioned her a pendant similar to my own,
a runestone of protection. I hunted for a rock that had been worn smooth by water, with a
hole occurring in it naturally, that I could string a chain of cold iron. For that I sought the
icy cold depths of the Njordian Sea that separated Asgard from the home of the frost giants,
known as Jotunheim. I found what I sought after a few hours, and returned to my workshop
to finish preparing it.

I cast spells of permanency and water resistance on the chain I would thread through
it. The stone was a lovely swirled green and blue agate, shot through with streaks of white and
turquoise. I took an ash wood wand and carefully drew eohir, the rune of protection upon
it. Then I used the ash wand as a conduit and activated the rune with my magic, and it
burned itself into the stone, infusing it with the properties of the rune I'd drawn. Rune
magic isn't that hard to learn, though the potency of the runes and spells depend on the
wizard casting them. I made this runestone extra strong, for I was taking no chances with
Belle's life. On the opposite side I etched the runic sign for Belle's name.

So long as she wore the stone she would be protected from beguilement and other
enchantments similar to the one Dire had cast, spells of fire and ice, illusion, lightning, and
drowning. When I was done, I bathed the runestone in a milky bath of almond milk, honey
and ground dragon's teeth. This made it glow in the dark and sealed the magic deep within
the stone.

I removed it and laid it out to dry on a bed of black velvet. In an hour or so it would
be dry enough to be worn. I should have fashioned one for her years ago, but I'd arrogantly
thought she'd not need one till she was older, since I'd always be around to protect her. That
was one mistake I'd never repeat again.

For weeks following the nixie's attack, Belle had woken from a sound sleep
screaming. I was hoping the runestone would help alleviate those nightmares. Time would
do the rest.

I presented the runestone to her at supper that night, placing it about her neck and
saying that she must never remove it, not even when she was taking a bath. She loved it,
saying it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever owned.

I breathed a sigh of relief once the runestone was about her neck. Even so, it was
months before I let her out of my sight. As mortals are wont to say, once bitten twice shy.

* * * * * *
Now I'm going to fast forward this narrative about twelve years ahead, to the year
Belle turned fifteen. Not that the years inbetween were uneventful ones, since every day
with my daughter brought something new, but if I detailed every event in her life I would
fill several books. Suffice to say that my daughter grew from curious toddler to self-assured
young woman in a heartbeat, or so it seemed.

Her language lessons had long since been replaced by ones in magic when she was
ten and her powers had begun to manifest themselves. As Dire had predicted, Bella's Talent
was as a water witch, though she could also work spells of ice and wind and light. Since my
affinity was for fire, I could only teach her the most basic water spells, and so I arranged
with Ran, who was one of the most potent sea mages in Asgard, to teach her what I could
not. I was by no means the only magician among the Aesir, simply one of the strongest ever
born. In order for Belle to hone her Talent to that necessary razor keenness so essential to
a powerfully Gifted magician, I sent her to stay with Ran in her palace for half a year at a
time.

That first time, I very nearly stayed with her, but Ran put her foot down and told me
quite firmly to leave. "She'll never become a truly competent mage with you hovering over
her, Loki," my cousin said. "She needs to learn how to be independent and she's not going
to if she's got you to lean on every time she makes a mistake. She isn't the first apprentice
I've trained, you know. I'll take care of her, I promise. I treat my apprentices like my
children. Now go back home, Master Mischief, and I'll send for you in another six months."

I knew Ran was right and that I had to let her go. So I kissed her goodbye, told her
to be good and learn her lessons, cried a bit, and returned home. I'd left her a magic mirror
to use if she needed to talk with me, it was one of a pair I'd made long ago and never used.
The first month she used it almost daily, saying she missed me and Ava and Heror terribly.
But by the second month she had gotten over her bout of homesickness and hardly used it
at all.

I took her departure harder than she did, I think. I'd grown so used to having her
underfoot, that when she was gone, I was dreadfully lonely. I think most parents feel this
way when their children leave home the first time. Or at least they do if they like their
children. Maybe for some parents it's different, and they can't wait to get rid of their
offspring. Such was not the case with us, and as I'd said, during the first month she was
away, I was at loose ends. Ava missed her too and we comforted each other as best we
could. Gradually, I grew used to the idea and since it was only half a year, eventually I
learned not to mind and even to look forward to it, especially once she was thirteen, and had
become a mature woman with the onset of her first woman's time.

Unlike most fathers, who become tongue-tied and are reduced to babbling idiots
when it came to discussing things of a female nature back then, it was left to me to explain
the facts of life to my daughter. I didn't have the luxury of sending her to ask her mother
because she didn't have one. Ava was worse than useless with this sort of thing, since
Nisses had no clue what changes an adolescent girl went through. Therefore it fell to me to
explain what was happening to her and how to deal with it.

I managed it quite neatly, I thought, giving her the facts of the matter succinctly and
without referring to it as a curse or something to be dreaded the way so many mortal women
were taught at that time. I thought that attitude utterly ridiculous, it was a perfectly natural
process and should be celebrated, not painted with superstitious nonsense. I must have done
a good job, because when the day arrived, she was neither frightened or confused. In fact,
she was excited, and once she'd told me, I had a small party to celebrate her new status, and
invited Sigyn and Nanna to it.

I took the two older women aside and asked them to take Belle aside and discuss any
particulars they thought she might need to know. "I did explain to her the bare minimum,
but I'm a man and I don't have details the way you two do and I'd appreciate it if you'd, uh,
instruct her a bit more thoroughly."

The two chuckled and Sigyn said, "Of course we will, Loki. You're a dear to even
consider such a thing, so many men don't you know, they prefer to pretend such things don't
exist."

I rolled my eyes. "Ridiculous. Where do they suppose babies come from, acorns?"

For some reason both of them found this answer hilarious, and I left them laughing
quietly and when dinner was over they took my daughter off in the parlor and filled her in
on the women's mysteries that I, as a mere male, was not privileged enough to know.

Belle told me later that they were very kind and had given her a tea recipe to make,
and I recognized it as one of my own herbal brews that I used to make Sigyn during that time
to ease cramps and headaches. It was then that I taught Belle how to defend herself from
the unwanted attentions of an amorous male. She was far too young to even consider going
to bed with a man, but I didn't trust most of the young bucks up at Valhalla to realize this,
especially when they were in their cups. The runestone would protect her against magic, but
not physical attacks, and thus I taught her the value of a quick knee to the groin and a heel
to the back of the knee and a right cross to the jaw.

"If any man dares to lay a hand on you, you do just what I've told you, then you
come find me and I'll make it clear to him such behavior is highly inappropriate."

"How?" she asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

"I'll bash his brains in," I answered shortly. "Or turn him into a worm, depending
on the mood I'm in. I think he'll get the message afterwards."

"Oh." Then she said, "You won't have to worry about doing that, since no man is
interested in me that way, Papa."

"Good. Make sure it stays that way."

When she turned fifteen, she blossomed into a lovely young woman and I dreaded
having to deal with a father's worst nightmare—boys coming to court her. I considered
locking her in her room until she was twenty or thirty, then remembered that I'd taught her
how to pick locks, so that wouldn't work. Then too, I was afraid if I made too much of a big
deal, she would feel obligated to play the rebel, so I simply resigned myself to spending the
rest of her teenage years giving nasty looks to all the young men who dared to notice her
when we chanced to go to Valhalla to trade or visit Odin. I'd long since had the dreaded
Talk with her regarding pregnancy and sex, giving her a charm for infertility to use, though
I stressed the importance of saving herself for her husband. "When you decide to give
yourself to a man it should mean something special, not just a moment's pleasure for a
single night. For if a man ever does get you pregnant, best make sure he intends to marry
you, because I'll be damned if some Jack-Be-Nimble will make free with my daughter and
then think he can go merrily on his way like nothing ever happened."

Thus far she'd not showed any preference for any young man, to my vast relief,
though I'd caught several of them eyeing her when they thought I wasn't looking. I felt like
hanging a Don't Touch Me sign about her neck and accompanying her everywhere carrying
a huge club. It wasn't that I didn't trust her to exercise restraint or discretion, I did. It was
the men I didn't trust, especially now since Odin was away on one of his wandering
journeys. This time he'd left Thor in charge, don't ask me why, and the mead hall was a
place of drunken parties, endless feasts, and mock combat contests that inevitably ended in
broken heads, bruises and broken bones.

I was often called upon to treat those who'd overindulged or who'd gotten on the
wrong side of someone's fist or knife. So I had observed first hand that the Aesir ladies no
longer remained in the hall after supper, but retired to somewhere safe above the mead hall,
taking even the young serving girls with them, and leaving the bachelors and such to be
served by the male servants instead. I got the impression that in the beginning they had
protested the fact that Thor was turning their home into a bar and a brothel, but it had done
no good, since Thor had been given regency while Odin was gone, and therefore had free
reign to do what he liked, no matter how inappropriate such behavior was.

I was doubly grateful that Belle was away studying with Ran for the autumn and
winter of that year, since she would be protected from any unwanted advances in Ran's
home. I need never fear for Belle's virtue at Oceanica, since all those who lived there knew
the apprentices of the Mistress of Waves were sacrosanct. Ran took her duties as a guardian
very seriously and I'd yet to meet a man (myself included) who'd dare to cross her in her
own realm.

I felt sorry for the young women bondservants, who had no choice but to work in and
around the mead hall. On one occasion when I'd come there to treat the victim of a drunken
brawl (she'd had her face split open by a warrior's fist), I handed out charms of immobility
to her and her companions. Said charms would stun a man for at least ten minutes, allowing
a harassed maid to escape his hands and get to safety above stairs. There had already been
one young woman who'd hung herself after being forced to service several warriors one
night and it made me furious to see the depths which Valhalla had sunk since Thor had been
made regent. Such a thing would have never happened when Odin was in residence, and
well they knew it. Thor had even dared to ask me to come and provide magical
entertainment for his feasts, as though I were some kind of court flunky, performing tricks
for pay like a street musician! I laughed in his face and told him to learn how to juggle cups
and saucers, that would seem like magic to his friends. Then I walked out, ignoring his
bellowed order that I had to obey him since he was my Regent. Odin, my brother, what in
hell were you thinking to leave that imbecile in charge while you were gone? I know he's
your son, but a dog would be a better ruler than he is, by Surtur's fiery beard.

I resolved to keep Belle far from Valhalla when she returned home from school this
year. Baldur agreed with me, he too was disgusted with how his brother was running things,
and he stayed far from the mead hall as well. "Otherwise I might be tempted to throttle him
just on principle, the drunken ass. All he thinks about are three things, food, mead, and sex.
And the only people of importance in Asgard right now are Me, Myself, and I," he'd
declared angrily last time I'd spoken with him. "I wish Father'd get his wandering ass back
home and throw these dogs out in the gutter where they belong. It's a crime when your own
capital isn't a fit place for decent people."

"I agree with you wholeheartedly. It's too bad we can't send a message to Odin and
tell him the state of affairs," I sighed. "But you know as well as I that when he travels in
Midgard, he does so incognito and the only way he'd come home immediately was if Asgard
were under threat of destruction. Unfortunately, Thor's negligence doesn't qualify."

Baldur shook his head in disgust. "You know the only reason Father named my
brother regent was because he was badgered to death by Thor. I'm the eldest son, so by
rights I should get a chance to rule and all that bullshit. So Father took pity on him and gave
him regency this time around, and look at what he's done to the place! Made it no better than
a cheap brothel and a tavern. We might as well hang out a sign—Whores and Free Beer
Here!—and be done with it. Norns only know what's going to be left by the time Father
does come home. But I'll tell you one thing, Loki. I'm not going to take the blame for
anything that goes wrong in Valhalla during Thor's reign. Whatever mess my brother's
made of the kingdom, he can damn well deal with it himself or be answerable to Father."

I couldn't blame Baldur for his surly attitude. I felt the same. I was tired of taking
the blame for Thor's stupidity. I'd been doing it for too many centuries, the first time was
when his blasted hammer got stolen by the giants because he was too lazy to lock it up when
he went to sleep one night. Left it right out in the open on the table where any thief worthy
of the name could come in and snatch it. Talk about dumb! Then when the hammer turned
up missing and he received the note from the giant king saying the only way he'd ever see
his precious Mjolnir again was to forfeit Freya as bride to the giant king, he came whining
to me. Loki, I need your help. Only your cunning can get us out of this dilemma. Which
I did in record time too! Did he ever come up to me once afterward and say, thanks Loki for
saving my ass, you're a real friend? No. Instead I get grief over the fact that we had to disguise
ourselves as women in order to crash the wedding and get the hammer back. Says he ruined
his reputation as a big tough warrior by dressing up like a girl. Fenris' bloody skull!

Well, this was one time I was going to stay out of Valhalla and let Mr. Big Brave
Warrior run things his way without any advice from me. At least that way I couldn't be
blamed when things fell apart. And maybe Odin would think twice before he left his eldest
in charge again.

Or so I intended. But you know the old saying, the best laid plans of mice and men
. . .I kept my resolve for over six months, not setting foot in Valhalla, and was kept abreast
of the gossip at court by the servants who came each week to pick up my cheese, curds and whey, and milk.
Things were going to hell in a handcart. Big surprise there. Thor had quarreled with his
mother, and Frigga had packed up her ladies and retired to her summer palace, followed by
Sif, Freya, and the rest of the noble ladies. With the women gone, the last shred of moral
decency had been buried, and the only rule in the mead hall was the whim of its drunken
master and his friends.

Belle had returned home from her sojourn at Ran's palace, looking more beautiful
and more poised than ever. Her magical studies were proceeding at an accelerated rate due
to her superior Talent and brains. I was very pleased and so was she.

"Though I'm glad to be home now, Father. I love Ran, but after awhile, I need to see
the grass and the sky again. And I miss Ava's cooking. Nobody down there knows how to
make bread," she said the first night she'd arrived back at the house.

"I see. You missed the grass, the sky, and Ava's cooking. What about me? Don't
I rate a smidgen of feeling?"

"Of course you do!" she laughed, and came around the table to kiss my cheek. "I
always miss you. That goes without saying."

"Glad to hear it. At least someone appreciates me," I smiled, hugging her back.
"I'm glad you're home too, sunshine. I could've used your help as a medical assistant this
past winter. And your horse has been pining for you something awful."

"I'll bring her an apple and some sugar right after dinner," Belle said. "Maybe I'll
even go for a ride."

"This late? It'll be dark soon."

"So? I'm not afraid to go riding in the dark. And Flicker can see in the dark like a
cat, just like Heror. I'm not a child, Father, so you needn't worry that something will come
along and steal me away. I can take care of myself. I fought a giant squid and bunch of sea
trolls just a month ago, you know. They tried to break into the royal stables and make off
with Ran's magic chariot and her trio of dolphins . . . ."

I listened avidly as she related her adventures in the sea kingdom, both proud and
apprehensive of the risks she took. She was shaping up to become a formidable mage, one
that would be a match for any warlock in Asgard and probably Vanaheim and Jotunheim as
well. She reminded me a bit of myself at that age, impulsive, adventurous, and eager to
prove myself. Of course she was much more self-assured than I'd been, that came from
having a family and a home. It made a big difference. She had never known what it meant
to have to fight for what should have been yours by right, nor felt the keen sting of bitter
rejection because you were an orphan without family. Nor would she ever know, for I was
determined that though we'd been born to similar beginnings, her fate would never be mine.

I could give her the one thing I'd never had, a name and a person who loved her no matter
what.

Though it wasn't hard to love Belle, she had a sweetness and compassion that I
lacked, and her tongue, while clever, was never sharp or cruel. She was, in short, what I
might have been once, all the promise of my youth fulfilled.

When we'd reached the end of the dessert course, she invited me to go along with
her for her ride. I declined, saying softly, "No, you go on and have your run in the moonlight
if you wish, get reacquainted with your horse. I need to replenish some of my healing
potions, I've been going through them like wildfire with these new troubles down at
Valhalla." I'd told her of the recent problems we'd had, she knew a bit of them from Ran,
who kept abreast of politics and gossip, and had a few things to say about slipshod state of
affairs. Ran had said this simply proved her point that men ought never to rule, for they
were too prone to follow their own impulses, and look what happened then. She'd said a
woman would never have behaved in such a fashion, like a foolish boy just out of the
schoolroom, eager to impress his friends with his wild ways now that his teachers couldn't
reprimand him. Ran had been ruling her own kingdom when she'd been almost as young
as Belle, and even back then her court had never been the lawless place Valhalla was now.
She'd been taught to put the needs of her people and her kingdom first, her desires last, and
her subjects never had cause to complain of her and indeed they loved her.

"You could do a lot worse than to model yourself after Ran," I told my daughter
earnestly. "She is all that a good ruler should be."

"I know, sir. She's taught me a great deal, and not just magic either. I'm very fond
of her."

I knew Ran was fond of Belle as well, she'd said as much to me in her last letter, that
she regarded her newest apprentice the same way she would have a daughter or a niece.
"You did a good thing all those years ago, taking her in the way you did, Loki. She is both
clever and compassionate and one day she shall be one of the powers of this world, and for
that she owes you, who gave her a home and a family and who raised her with such love and
care. She shall be a credit to us both, brother mine."

What Ran said was true, but I felt much of Belle's success was due to her own
determined and honest nature and not merely my guidance, for others, like Thor's children,
had the same advantages she had and proceeded to throw them all away. It never occurred
to me that Belle took nothing for granted because I myself didn't, having learned the hard
way to appreciate what I had today because you never knew what tomorrow might bring.
There had been so few constants in my life that I never took anything for granted, not even
my own happiness. Though my daughter, like my magic, was one of the few things that had
never failed me.

She returned from her ride, flushed and grinning, saying Flicker had been in rare
form, jumping over the pasture fence like a deer instead of waiting for her to open the gate.
Flicker was a pretty mare, black like her sire Heror, though she had a white star on her
forehead, as swift as a comet, and as devoted to her mistress as her sire was to me. Like
Heror, she possessed a bit of magic and a touch of immortality, and she would serve Belle
as both mount and companion for centuries.

I laughed at Belle's tale and said that there was nothing more impatient than a horse
who hadn't seen her mistress in months and wanted a bit of a gallop. Belle agreed, then sat
cross-legged on the floor by my feet, she was dressed in loose trousers and a tunic like a boy,
having adopted that mode of dress while she was with Ran's people, who didn't believe that
girls should only wear skirts and dresses. We had tea and she reminisced about all the
pranks she'd pulled in her childhood and the times we'd shared.

"Do you remember that enchanted storybook you gave me one year for my birthday?
The one with the illusionary people that jumped off the pages and re-enacted the story when
you opened it and read the words? I thought it was the best thing in the world. I think I read
it several hundred times."

"I seem to remember I caught you reading it during your mathematics lesson several
times. When you were supposed to be doing your multiplication tables."

"Well, you have to admit the story of Sigfrid and Brunhilda was a lot more
interesting than multiplication tables," she stated, her jade eyes sparkling impishly. "I loved
that book. I still have it, packed away in a trunk. I think I'll save it for my children, if I
should have any someday. You made it yourself, didn't you?"

I nodded. "I wrote and illustrated it. It was all done in special ink and colors,
infused with a bit of magic so they would never fade or run. The illusion spells came later,
when the book was finished. I was glad you liked it so much, you always did love fairy tales.
I would have liked it too when I was your age."

"Did you have one like it when you were a boy?"

I shook my head. "Gods, no. Books were as rare as hugs and kisses when I was
growing up."

"Poor Father. I forgot, you were raised by ogres who beat you and tried to sell you
into slavery," she said, and her eyes flashed indignantly. I had told her a little of my
childhood, not everything, of course, but just enough so she understood where I'd come
from—which had been nothing. "If I'd been you, I'd have gone back and put a good curse
on them for what they'd put you through."

"What good would have that done? What happened, happened. You can't change
the past. I was better off without them, so maybe it was for the best that I left when I did.
Besides, I probably deserved that thrashing, though I never did the other." I admitted
candidly.

"What does that matter? I probably deserved a spanking more times than not and you
never beat me like that."

"Spark, you never behaved half as badly as I did. I was a wild rebel from the
cradle. Mischief was my middle name then, and still is. I followed the rules only when it
suited me. Much like that rascal, Grim, I'm afraid."

"Oh, surely not!" she objected instantly. "He was horrible brat. Spoiled and
conceited and a bully besides. I doubt if you were half as bad as he was."

"Not quite, but I was no model of obedience."

"He wasn't a model for anything, unless it was for sheer nastiness. I remember the
day he called me a little bastard not fit for decent children to play with. I was only
what—two, I think—but I'll never forget it. The way he said it, as if I was dirt and ought
to get down on the ground and kiss his feet for the privilege of being allowed to associate
with one such as him. He wanted Hilda and Vali to stop playing with me, told them they
needn't sully themselves with gutter trash. I didn't know what half of what he said meant,
except that it wasn't good and that somehow I was different from the rest of them. He made
me feel horrible, the miserable snot. But you gave him what he deserved in the end, so I
guess it turned out all right."

"For you it did. That punishment doesn't seem to have had any lasting effect on him
that I can see now. He's just as arrogant and cruel and bullying as he ever was. I don't think
he'll ever change. Some people don't. They're born nasty and they stay that way. He's like
his father, thinks he's king and the rest of us ought to jump whenever he says." I snorted.
"But it'll be a cold day in Muspelheim before I bow my head to that little peacock or his
father, no matter what title he gives himself."

"Me either," Belle said firmly and our eyes met and we smiled at each other.
"There's more to being a good ruler than a crown and a title."

"Just so, girl. Most young ladies your age wouldn't think so, I'm glad you have more
sense."

"Well, I ought to. I am a mage, after all."

I laughed and patted her cheek, then we finished our tea and went to bed. Her
forthright attitude set me at ease, for I had worried she mighty grow flighty and susceptible
to the charms of wealth and power and a handsome face, the way many girls her age did.
But her head was not turned by appearances, she saw clearly to the heart of a person, which
was all to the good for it made it less likely she would be taken in by some witty rogue. I
went to bed feeling good about having her home again. It seemed that I had done a good job
raising her after all. As I had told her long ago, after that incident with Grim, she was the
best thing that ever happened to me.

* * * * * *
I awoke early the next morning, even before my rooster, Ragnar, had crowed. There
was a slight foreboding feeling hanging in the air that made the hairs on the back of my neck
prickle. Not a feeling of danger, exactly, but of something important waiting to happen.
Now I've never been much of a seer, I don't go running to a Seeing glass or scrying bowl
every time I feel a bit uneasy. I don't usually worry overmuch about the future, I've learned
over the years that it can take care of itself, and I prefer to make my own destiny.

Maybe if I had followed up on my odd feeling that day, however, things might have
worked out differently. Then again, maybe not. Even knowing there was going to be trouble
might not have prevented what happened. Nothing is ever certain.

Never one to linger in bed, I rose, washed, and dressed in my old faded blue tunic
and cotton breeches that I wore when I needed to feed and water my stock. No sense in my
ruining good clothes with straw and horse slobber, I thought sensibly. I came downstairs
yawning, Ava was awake already, stirring up the embers on the kitchen hearth and putting
a pot of tea on to boil.

"Huh. You're up early, Master. The little mistress is still asleep. Do you want some
breakfast now or later? I can whip up some toast and cheese if you're starving, otherwise you
can wait for oatmeal."

"I'll eat later. My appetite will be better after I've woken up a bit more," I said.
"Did you put out the milk and cheese for Valhalla on the porch yet? Someone should be
along to pick it up sometime today."

The Nis nodded. "I surely did. And those cheapskins better leave more than two or
three silvers this time. D'they think we's running a charity here?"

I bit back a laugh at her tone. Ava was a shrewd bargainer and she didn't hold with
any nonsense when it came to household affairs. She was the one who made the cheese and
whey to sell, after all, and I gave her part of the money in return, even though Nisses don't
care much for money. I don't know what she did with it and I never asked. That was her
business.

"Ever since Thor's taken to playing regent up there at the hall, they think they can
shortchange us," I said. "You should have said something to me before, Ava."

The Nis sniffed, her brown hands on her hips. "I is saying something now, Master
Loki. What d'you plan on doing about it?"

"When the servant boy comes today, call me and I'll have a word with him if he tries
to leave less than my original agreement with Odin. There shouldn't be any reason they
can't pay the same as always, Thor couldn't have depleted the treasury already."

"Very well. I'll keep an eye out for him." I was certain she would. Nothing irritates
a Nis so much as a broken agreement.

Not that we needed the money, but it was the principle of the thing that mattered.
I provided them with a service, they should pay me what it was worth.

I went out to the barn and began my usual chores. It took me a little longer than
usual since I now had one extra horse to care for, but Flicker was not as demanding as her
sire and she was a great deal more appreciative. I teased my stallion, who shook his mane
and said he had a right to be more demanding since he was older.

I left them munching their oats and hay and moved on to Olga, who was not as
cranky as she usually was, and only threatened to step on my foot once. "What's this, Old
Lady?" I asked, my hands working smoothly after so many mornings. "You finally learn
some manners after all these years?"

She shook her head and turned to nibble at my tunic. "There's nothing wrong with
my manners, magician."

"Except that you don't have any," Heror whickered.

"Who asked you? I'm a goat, I don't need any." She eyed me speculatively, debating
on if she could be quick enough to get a mouthful of my sleeve before I noticed and cuffed
her nose. Like most goats, she loved munching on clothing.

"Don't even think about it," I warned. "You already ruined one shirt this week,
you four-footed fiend. Next time I'm gonna take it out of your hide."

"You're no fun," she blew and shook her head so that her bell jangled. "Though I
will say you treat us a darn sight better than them high and mighty pieces up there at the
mead hall do their animals. Word is they've cut down their herd of sheep and cattle by so
much feasting that they've taken to eating goats. Imagine!"

"Better watch out then, Olga," Heror nickered. "If you don't behave, Loki might get
out the axe."

Olga made a rude noise at him. "In your dreams, you cousin to a jackass. I make the
best cheese and the sweetest milk in Asgard. He'd never kill me, right, Loki?" She
nuzzled me gently, and I gave her a scratch between her horns.

"Norns know, if I haven't killed you by now, you old reprobate, I won't ever. Now
quit twisting about so much, you're going to knock over the pail."

"Sucks for you then," she said, stamping a hind hoof playfully.

"Olga!" I growled. She settled then, and I began to think Heror was right, she really
was frightened I might sell her for meat. Which was ridiculous, after so many centuries, she
should know she was more friend than a food source. "How did you happen to hear that
little tidbit?"

"A crow stopped here yesterday. You know what gossips they are. Said I ought to
thank my lucky stars to be here instead there. I said if they've taken to eating goats, where's
it gonna end? And he says it weren't all the goats, just the old ones past their prime, the
billies and the nannies whose milk had dried up. Humph! It's a disgrace is what it is! We
give you the best years of our lives and what do we get in return but to be served up on some
platter." She swished her tail angrily, hitting me in the face.

"Hey!"

"Sorry. Well, I'll tell you something, Master Trickster. You try to eat me for dinner
when I'm too old to give milk any more and I'll kick you right over the moon, see if I don't!"

"I'd never eat you, Olga," I soothed, patting her flank. "You'd taste terrible, all bitter
and stringy." I said slyly, and ducked her tail. "Only kidding. After the quality of milk and
cheese you've given me, you deserve a nice retirement in a field with all the grass and clover
and old shirts you can eat."

"I'm holding you to that promise, Loki. Remember that and don't try and wriggle
out of it later, mind."

I slapped her lightly on the rump. "That day's a long time coming, nanny. So don't
count your blessings just yet." I picked up the pail of frothy milk. "Thanks. Enjoy your
breakfast."

"Oh, I will," she said with an amused laugh. I heard a sinister ripping sound.

I jerked my arm away. Too late. A strip of my sleeve now dangled from her mouth.
"Yum! Got milk, magician?"

I swore furiously for about ten seconds, then left her to her stolen treat and headed
back to the house.

As I came into sight of the porch, I noticed an odd bundle lying across the steps. My
brow wrinkled in puzzlement. Ava hadn't said she was doing laundry today. Then I saw it
wasn't a bundle of dirty clothes, but a young man wearing a threadbare tunic and breeches.

Not again! I groaned in dismay. Why is it that everybody chooses my porch to
collapse on?

I hurried forward, but before I could examine him to see if he was still breathing, the
door opened and Ava came out. "Hey, boy! My master wants a word with—acorns and
holly! The poor thing's fainted."

"Where? Let me see," came Belle's voice. She joined the Nis on the porch, kneeling
down to feel at the lad's throat. "He's still breathing. But he's warm. I think he's got a
fever, Father."

I nodded, noticing the flushed cheeks. "Let's get him inside." I bent down and
gathered him up in my arms. He woke then, whimpering and squirming. "Easy, boy.
You're among friends," I soothed.

"No! Put me down . . .please . . ." he whimpered. "It hurts . . .like fire."

I knew then what was the matter with him, and I shifted my grip, easing him over my
shoulder.

"What's wrong with him, Father? Immortals don't get sick," Belle stated, following
me as I carried our unexpected guest down the hall to the nearest guest room. "Get me some
water, soft cloths, and my comfrey salve, daughter." I ordered, laying him down on his stomach.
She departed without a word, her eyes widening in understanding.

"Lie still," I said softly, when he would have raised his head. "I'm going to try and
help you as best as I can." I spoke a word of magic, removing his breeches. "Hel and Fenris damn
them!" I swore savagely, for he had been beaten from backside to knees, bloody welts that
stood out in livid contrast to his pale skin. "Looks like they worked you over with a whip,
the bastards."

"No. A belt, I think. And a stick," he said, breathing hoarsely.

"What's your name, boy?"

"Leif Malasteinsson. I'm Vanir, you know," he said awkwardly, turning his head to
look at me from huge brown eyes. He reminded me of an abused puppy, cringing in a
corner, too scared to move. He was fine boned and fair-haired, the Vanir were more inclined
to magic and intellectual pursuits than the more war-like Aesir.

"You're a bondservant," I clarified, for I knew well that no Vanir would ever serve
in an Aesir hall if he weren't. "A new one, if I had to guess." All the older Vanir slaves at
Valhalla had learned long ago to stay out of reach of their masters when they were drunk or
in a temper.

"I just arrived yesterday. I never would have come if I'd known . . ." he trailed off
as the door opened and Belle returned carrying the items I'd asked for. The boy went scarlet
and buried his face in the pillow.

I took the tray from her. "Thanks. But I think it'd be best if you let me take care of
him," I said quickly, when she would have protested. "I know you're gentler than me, but
he won't appreciate a woman's touch right now. Go on, Belle. Mix me up some tea to make
him sleep and bring me some fever syrup."

She darted a glance at the patient, and I saw the sympathy flare in her jade eyes when
she saw the marks on him. Then she nodded and said, "If you need anything else, just send
for me."

"I will. Now hurry, he'll be needing that tea in a bit."

I set the tray on the nightstand. As well as the items I'd requested, Bella had
included a spoon and a draft of pain reliever. I poured a measure of the sweet poppy
flavored syrup out and said, "She's gone, Leif. Now quit hiding and look at me."

He did so, wincing slightly. "I guess it shouldn't matter if she sees . . .they all
watched when he beat me . . ." tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, but he stubbornly
blinked them away.

"Take this," I said, and he opened his mouth. "It'll help with the pain." I dipped a
cloth in water and wrung it out. "I need to wash those cuts, and it's going to hurt, I'm
afraid." I warned.

"Go ahead. It already hurts."

He yelped as I began, and I patted him soothingly. "I know. I'm sorry." If I could
have, I would have used magic and spared him this, but my magic doesn't work too well on
wounds, and so I had to make do with my hands. I was as gentle as possible, but even so I
knew the slightest touch stung like hell. To keep his mind off it, I asked, "Who did this to
you? Before, you said you never would have come if you'd known . . .do you mean to say
you came here voluntarily?"

"Yes and no. You see, I'm my father's youngest, and we needed the money . . . there
were improvements that had to be done on the house and the fields, things we couldn't
afford since King Gundar raised the taxes . . .ow!" he yelled.

"Keep still," I ordered. "Go on. Your family needed money, so they offered you up
as a sacrificial goat, I take it."

"It wasn't like that. I agreed . . .because it was the quickest way for us to get the
money. And my father said Odin was an honorable man for an Aesir, that's why he signed
the papers. He promised to treat me fairly, it said so right in the contract. I'm supposed to
work for you for fifty years and in return he paid Father enough money to fix up the house
and all. I was supposed to be a house thrall, like a page, fetching and carrying, that kind of
thing. But when I got here and told the steward that, I think his name's Snagi, he just
laughed in my face. "Who do you think you are, boy? A Vanir prince? You'll do as your
told and like it." I showed him the articles of my indenture, and he said it was just a piece
of paper, that Thor was in charge now and I'd do whatever needed doing or else." He
flinched then said angrily, "I was supposed to be Odin's thrall, not Thor's. That was the
agreement we'd made."

Your father ought to have made sure he read the fine print before he signed, the idiot,
I thought angrily, but I didn't say this aloud. The boy was suffering enough, he didn't need
criticism of his father added to his burden. "If you've been bonded to Valhalla, you serve
the current master of the hall, not any one person. That's how it's always been."

"But . . .that's not fair!"

"Fair or not, it's what's done," I said, continuing my ministrations. "Odin's away
right now, so Thor's in charge. He's your master now, unfortunately for you. And he bears
no love for the Vanir, nor for anyone save himself. So, what did you do to earn these?"

"Nothing!" he cried indignantly. "I made a mistake, that's all. Last night, one of the
older servants, Wulf, he told me to bring round the mead pitcher to the warriors. So I did.
I didn't know that some of them were to be served first. I filled the first man's cup that was
near me. They were all dressed alike, I didn't know he was lower in rank than the man next
to him. Next thing I know, this big fellow—Grim they called him—knocks the pitcher all
over the table and grabs me by the ear. "You stupid oaf! Can't you tell the difference
between royalty and a mere jarl? I get served first, not Harald." So I say I'm sorry, my lord,
but I'm new here and didn't know . . .let me get you another cup. And he sneers at me and
says, "You're that new Vanir brat, aren't you? The one with all the airs and graces. Well,
we don't like your sort round here, boy. Looking down your pretty Vanir nose at us and
thinking you're better than us, like you do." I said I never thought that, that I was only a
servant now, just like the others here. But he wouldn't listen, he said I was insolent and I
needed a good lesson in manners. Then he picked up the rune stick he'd been gambling with
and he thrashed me . . .and the others they laughed and said it served the little Vanir bastard
right . . ." he sniffled sharply and I could tell he was close to tears. "We would have never
treated our servants at home so . . ."

"Not even an Aesir slave?"

"No. The only time my father ever ordered a servant beaten was if they deliberately
shirked work or stole or something like that. Not for a mistake!"

"I see," I wasn't sure if that were true, but I didn't contradict him. "But you say that
happened last night. Some of these welts are fresh, I'd say no more than an hour or so old.
You were beaten twice, weren't you?"

He nodded miserably. "Wulf said since I served last night I wouldn't have to serve
in the morning, but the steward kicked me awake and said go bring breakfast out to Lord
Thor, and be quick about it, he don't like to be kept waiting. So I took the tray and figured
nothing could be as bad as last night. At least I couldn't mistake Lord Thor for anyone else
there." He sucked in a breath as I touched a particularly sensitive spot. "Hel, aren't you
done yet?"

"Almost. I'm trying not to hurt you, that's why this is taking so long. Go on. You
were bringing Thor his breakfast and I take it he was in a mood or something . . . hung over
most likely, the dumb ass . . .and he took exception to your face or something, right?"

"Uh, actually it was 'cause I spilled the tray all over the floor. Not on purpose, but
the hall was a mess, bones and junk everywhere and two dogs started fighting over a bone.
They got between my feet and I tripped . . .I knew I was dead and I wanted to die right there
. . .Thor swung round and hit me so hard with his fist I saw stars. Next thing I knew he
hauled me over the table and . . .well, you can see for yourself how hard he hit me. Then he
told me to get out, go and fetch the milk and the cheese down at the magician Loki's house,
before he killed me. I could just about walk, after . . .it took me ages to get here, and then
I just couldn't think any more . . .I hurt so much and I was so tired . . .please, sir, don't send
me back there. Please . . .!"

"Hush. You aren't going anywhere for a while, boy." I said, stroking his hair. I'd
done with the water, now I moved on to the comfrey salve, which would numb and soothe
the cuts. He gasped in relief as I applied it.

"That feels good . . .I wish I'd never come here . . .they should have called me Leif
the Unlucky, I've had nothing but bad luck since I got here . . .How am I going to be able to
get through fifty years of this? I wish I was home . . ."

All at once he began to cry, hoarse wracking sobs of misery and homesickness that
shook his slender frame. I said nothing, simply let him cry. He needed it, the tears would
cleanse his spirit just as the water had cleansed his body. Poor kid! I abhorred the practice
of slavery, especially when it was done to children like him, for he was no older than Belle.
How could his father have been so stupid to allow his son to go into service here? I'd have
sold myself first before I would have let my daughter become a slave. No, I'd have turned
beggar and thief before that, because even breaking the law was preferable to being a slave
anywhere. Indeed, that was what I'd done when I was his age, until my shapeshifting powers
emerged and I no longer needed to steal to survive. I had continued the practice though,
simply because I was a clever scamp who enjoyed the thrill of the forbidden. Belle came
in and dropped off the tea then left without a word.

Eventually he cried himself out and I felt his forehead. It was too warm, he had a
slight fever, probably due to an infection or stress. "Leif," I said quietly, and he raised his
head, his eyes wet and filled with shame.

"You must think me a dreadful coward, the way I've been acting," he began.

"Coward? Boy, if I'd been beaten as badly as you, I'd be bawling my eyes out too.
It's no joke, what they did to you. They flogged you like a criminal. If you were a mortal,
you'd be a week recovering from it. Luckily, you're not, and with my salve you should heal
up in about three to four days."

"I will?"

"Uh huh." I handed him a cloth to wipe his eyes. "Now, sit up a bit. This is a fever
syrup, it'll take care of that fever you've got." I gave him two spoonfuls of the medicine.
Then I stirred up the tea and fed him that too, saying it would help him sleep.

I didn't use a sleep charm on him because as a Vanir he was resistant to that kind of
magic. But the tea worked just as well, knocking him right out. I left him dreaming,
covering him with a light sheet out of modesty.

Belle was waiting right outside the door, practically with her ear pressed to the
keyhole. "How is he? I heard him crying before."

"Sleeping. He needs that more than anything." I beckoned her down the hall to the
kitchen. There I told her everything young Leif had told me.

She was as furious as I was. "How dare they! Those wicked, cruel, unfeeling, sons
of nidngs!" she growled, all of her protective instincts roused to a fever pitch. Several cups
and plates in the cupboard rattled loudly as her magic reacted to her temper, stirring the air
about her with a mild wind.

"Lower your voice," I reprimanded quietly. "You don't want to wake him. And get
control of your aura, it's not good to let it escape like that, he's vulnerable to disturbing
influences after what he's been through. It could affect his recovery."

"Right. Sorry," she took a deep breath, let it out, and I felt the anger she'd been
projecting retreat back behind her shields. Unchecked emotions were dangerous to those
with magic, and our young patient had more than a smidgen of Talent in him. "You can't
let him go back there. If they could do that to him over some spilled food and a mistaken
identity . . .there's no telling what they'd do to him next time."

"There isn't going to be a next time." I said heatedly. "I'm going to pay a visit to
Valhalla right now and see if I can get Thor to sell his bond to me. It shouldn't take much
to persuade him, he's not worth much in his condition."

"You'd keep him here as a slave?" she repeated in astonishment. "But you hate
slavery."

"Not as a slave," I corrected. "I'll rewrite his contract and make him my apprentice.
He's got Talent, I could sense it when I tended him. If he agrees, he can stay here and work
off his debt with me. But first, I need to have a little talk with Regent Thor." I rose, dusting
off my hands on my breeches. "Keep an eye on him for me, will you, Belle? I should be
back long before he wakes, but just in case I'm not . . ."

"Don't worry, Father. I'll make sure he's comfortable." She gave me a kiss on the
cheek. "Good luck. And try not to turn Thor into a toad, okay?"
"I'll try." I laughed, then grabbed a slice of bread with butter and an apple before
going to saddle Heror.