The Extremely Epic Viking Tale of Yondersaay (12 page)

“Let’s pick one, Ruairi. Can you remember them all?” Dani said. “There’s the Cup of Memory, and the something something Thunderbolt, and the Sword of Lapis Lazuli.”

“And the shield that goes with that,” Ruairi said.

“The Asiatic Shield.”

“Right. And what else?”

“Ooh, ooh!” Dani said. “Tell us about the Black Heart of the Dragon’s Eye. That sounds evil.”

“I want to hear about The Tome of Tiuz,” Ruairi said. “What is a tome and what is a Tiuz?”

Granny, preoccupied, ignored them. She had a sparkly yellow bauble in one hand and a garland of tinsel in the other. She wrapped the garland loosely around her neck like a very shiny scarf and tucked the sparkly yellow bauble under her chin. Then she filled both hands with mince pies and slices of Christmas cake and fluffy marshmallows and slowly and very carefully climbed back up the twenty-foot stepladder beside the Christmas tree. Granny stuffed a few marshmallows into her mouth and the rest into the pocket at the front of her frock.

“I will tell you of one treasure,” she said while chewing marshmallows, “one of Odin’s most prized possessions. And I will tell you about that particular one because it was created right here on Yondersaay. It’s something you haven’t listed yet. Its name has something in common with something else on Yondersaay, something big and rocky and lava spewing.”

“Volcano Mount Violaceous is big and rocky and lava-spewing,” Ruairi said.

“It must be the Violaceous Amethyst!” Dani said.

“Well deduced, the pair of you,” Granny said.

Granny took the sparkly yellow bauble in her one free hand and leaned into the tree to hang it. “Odin first came to Yondersaay because he had heard tell that the Yondersaanian Vikings had no equals in their craftiness in war, their surety upon the waves, and their courage in battle. A great battle was underway between the Yondersaanians and some Vikings from Groenland. Odin observed unseen.

“He chose a position high above the waves of the northern-most seas with a clear view of the ocean and island where the two Viking armies battled tirelessly. He also saw a dozen or so Valkyries riding their airborne horses very close to the action.

“The Valkyries were women, equally admired and feared, who carried out the will of Odin, the father of all Vikings - for he could, if he wanted to, decide the outcome of any given Viking battle. The choosers of the slain, the demigoddesses of death, the Valkyries would select the bravest of those who had been killed in battle, gather their souls, and bring them in triumph to the afterlife in Valhalla.

“Odin loved to watch the Valkyries work. Tough and fierce, they were swift, graceful, and deadly. It was not widely known at this time, but if you were to capture and hold a Valkyrie, you could make her grant you a wish. They were also, as a rule, uncommonly beautiful.

“Odin was a known admirer of beautiful women. On this particular day, Odin caught a glimpse of a beautiful Valkyrie, tall and strong and with eyes a deeper blue than the darkest ocean. She had blond hair to her thighs and skin of the palest ivory. She expertly directed her steed among the warriors in battle. Like the other Valkyries, she wore a scarlet corset and held a shield and a spear. Odin was smitten.

“After the battle, Odin called her to him. He learned her name was Svava, and she was more beautiful up close than Odin had imagined. He told her how her strength and grace had captured his heart and invited her to visit the island of the victorious Vikings with him.

“Svava and Odin retreated to Yondersaay, and there they had, em, they had lots of cups of tea.”

“Yuck! You’re not going to tell us about the ‘cups of tea,’ Granny? Please tell us there’s no ‘tea!’” Ruairi said, doing air quotes with his fingers.

“No, Ruairi, I will not tell you about the ‘tea’ on this occasion. But there may be ‘tea’ later on in the story. I’m not promising anything!” Granny chuckled as Ruairi pretended to be sick into a bucket.

“I don’t mind the kissing so much,” Dani said. “I mean ‘tea.’”

“You’re weird,” Ruairi said.

“Much as Svava loved being on Yondersaay with Odin,” Granny went on, “she longed to return to battle with her sisters. Odin could not convince her to stay with him.

“Determined to bestow a most special gift upon Odin, Svava thought for days about what to give him. What do you get the god with miraculous powers who has everything? He already had a magical horse and enchanted armor. He already had the ability to change his appearance, to disappear from view, to blend, and to escape. It was a tough one.

“Svava knew that as much as Odin was a revered and worshipped god among his friends and subjects, he was hated by his enemies and not always immune to their powers. One night, she asked him who or what could do him most harm, if they really wanted to.

“He said, ‘Few beings exist who are powerful enough to reduce me to dust, and I know of only three who dislike me enough to want me dead.’

“‘Who?’ Svava asked him.

“‘Mr. Jarrig, the Luchrupan, is one. He lives for trickery and mischief. He would have a lot of fun setting a trap for me. Mr. Jarrig is not wholly evil, but he is not wholly good either.

“‘The beautiful goddess Queen Olwen and I have a long and tortured history. She has reason to want me out of the way.

“‘And lastly, there is Mimir the giant, my old mentor. As you know, Svava, the giants and the gods have been enemies for many a century. We just can’t seem to get along for very long. I was very close with Mimir once. A difference of opinion angered him beyond tolerance, however, and we broke from each other after a furious argument.’

“They talked at length about the particular strengths and weaknesses of Jarrig, Olwen, and Mimir. Keeping it secret from Odin and armed with all this new knowledge, Svava went about creating something so transformative, so protecting, and so beautiful, that it would become a legend in its own right.

“Svava cast deep beneath the compressed rock of the Volcano Mount Violaceous to search for the ideal amethyst. Usually, it would take years of excavation, but Svava, with an intuition to match her beauty, uncovered the perfect one in a fraction of that time. She found a faultless stone— small but exquisitely formed and stunning in its opalescence. With the help of her sister Valkyries, she imbued this gem with the powers that would make it a most special parting gift.

“It was particularly powerful because to the uninitiated it just looked like a pretty trinket, something attractive to hang around one’s neck. In reality, it possessed the power to protect its bearer from intoxication, from poisoning, from transformation, from manipulation even. The stone also possessed the power, like Odin himself, of changing its appearance. Under ordinary circumstances, all things being equal, its color was a tender purple. But when manipulated by its owner, it could become clear or white, even yellow.

“Svava gave her lover this unique gift, the Violaceous Amethyst, and she was gone. Now, back to Rarelief the Splendiferous.”

“That’s it?” Dani interrupted, turning to face Granny.

“But what happened to Svava?” Ruairi asked softly.

“I will tell you all about it, but on another occasion. Unless you’d like me to switch to this story?” Granny asked.

“No, Granny, you’re probably right,” Dani said after a moment.

“We can come back to it another time,” Ruairi agreed.

“Well, all righty then. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. ” Granny took a few marshmallows from the front pocket of her frock.

“Odin settled on the island and decided it was his ideal hiding place. He protected it and enchanted it and bestowed many secret gifts upon it. Next, he set about finding the best place on the island to hide his treasures.

“To help him make up his mind, he made it possible for everything on the island, every leaf and flower and boulder and brook, to speak with him and to answer his questions. For example, he asked the gargling brook and the River Gargle about seasonal swelling and flooding and found out that the banks are routinely burst in winter and the land all about gets soggy and wet—not a good place to hide valuable treasures. They might get washed away one year, or at the very least be exposed if the soil on top was washed away.

“He asked the boulders on the borders of Mount Violaceous which of their caves would be a good hiding place and was informed that when the volcano blows, everything within the caves gets scorched—not an ideal place to hide garments of war made from leather and hide or tools made of wood. He enquired of the sands on the Beach of Bewilderment about the possibility of digging down and burying the treasure beneath them. He was reminded by a flock of passing puffins that the tarantulafish love shiny things and have a habit of scavenging along the beach. They were likely to dig up the treasures and use them out at sea to line their nests—no longer buried, the treasures could never find their way down to their masters when they reached Valhalla.

“Eventually, one day, at about dusk, Odin took a stroll through the Crimson Forest. He despaired of ever finding the perfect hiding place. He sat down at the base of a very young sapling to have a think about where oh where he could hide the treasures of Valhalla.

“Odin was sitting and thinking when the sun started its descent. Under the canopy of the Crimson Forest trees Odin was barely aware of the time of day. It was only when he felt the warmth of the final rays of the sun on his shoulders that he had a look around him and took in the setting sun’s play of light on the kaleidoscopic trees. The autumn leaves were multicolored and magnificent. There was already a colorful blanket of fallen leaves across the forest floor. Odin looked about him and took in the spectacle. ‘Beautiful,’ he thought to himself.

“As he sat there looking about him, the setting sun broke through the branches high above the young sapling where he sat. A gentle beam fell upon its leaves, and to the Viking god’s astonishment, the leaves sparkled purple. Odin had never seen such a thing. Yellowing leaves turning bright purple in the fading evening light. Odin addressed the tree. ‘How has this come to be, young sapling? Tell me the secret of your leaves.’

“The sapling turned its branches to Odin and said, ‘I’m afraid I cannot tell you, your godship, even if I wanted to. My poor mother here’—he twisted one branch in the direction of a solid, regal-looking oak standing protectively behind him—‘is forever fretting that I have some atrocious canker. All my friends keeps predicting it will spread to my branches and my trunk and finally my roots and that I’ll be rotted away to pieces in front of them.’ The young sapling started to sob.

“‘Nonsense,’ said Odin. ‘Your leaves are glorious and beautiful beyond belief. There is no sign of any illness or disease whatsoever. And I should know—I am a god! And we gods know everything. What is your name?’

“The tree stopped sobbing and looked at Odin. ‘Freakylief the Diseased, your godship,’ he said, and Odin patted the tree encouragingly.

“‘I shall rename you.’ Here Odin took a minute to think. ‘Henceforth, you shall be known as Rarelief the Splendiferous!’

“For the first time, Rarelief the Splendiferous felt real pleasure. His mother immediately turned to all the other trees to brag about her splendiferous son.

“‘And in recognition of your exquisite splendour,’ Odin went on, ‘I shall bestow upon you a great honor.’”

“Wow, a great honor,” Ruairi said, in hushed tones, then after a second, “What great honor?”

“What do you think, dummy?” Dani said. “He buried the treasure underneath him. Jeez, keep up.”

“
Cool
! Can we go looking for him tomorrow? Can we go treasure hunting, can we, can we?” he asked Mum and Granny.

“That might be a bit difficult,” Granny said.

“Why?” Dani and Ruairi asked together. Granny waited a minute.

Ruairi cottoned on first. “Because there are no trees on the island. Well, hardly any trees on the island.”

“Spot-on, Ruairi,” Granny said.

Ruairi looked to Dani and said, “Keep up!” Dani elbowed him in the ribs. “Stop it!” Ruairi said and shoved Dani.

“No,
you
stop it,” Dani said, flopping on top of Ruairi and wrestling him to the floor.

“Hey!” Mum said sharply. “That’s enough, you two!”

Dani and Ruairi ignored her and rolled around the floor flailing at each other and shouting.

“Stop it!”

“No,
you
stop it!”

“
Leave me alone
!”

“All right, that’s it. It’s time for bed!” Mum shouted.

Dani and Ruairi stopped midflail and looked up. “
What?
” Ruairi said.

“But you said we could stay up and hear the rest of the story!” Dani said.

“That was before you started behaving like hoodlums. Off you go. Go on. Up the stairs.” Mum settled onto the sofa and started reading her book.

“But”—Ruairi said, coming up onto his knees beside a similarly kneeling Dani—“you said!”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Mum snapped, without looking at her children. “Good night.”

Ruairi and Dani glanced at each other and then back at their mother. “Sorry,” they both muttered together and stared at the floor.

“You started it,” Ruairi said under his breath to Dani.

Dani glared at him.

“What was that, Ruairi?” Mum said, raising her eyebrows.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “We’re sorry; we won’t fight anymore. Please can we stay up?”

Mum’s gaze flicked to Granny, who was using the break in her storytelling to stuff her gob with whatever food she could reach from her chair. Given that she’d positioned her chair right next to the table, her mouth was positively laden.

“It’s up to Granny,” Mum said finally. “If she can bear the sight of the two of you a little longer, well, then, you can stay up.”

Dani and Ruairi sat side by side. They didn’t flop all over each other like usual—they sat stiffly, without touching, and shot reproachful glances back and forth.

Granny nodded, swallowed hard, and started again.