Gods of the Ragnarok Era Omnibus 2: Books 4-6 by Matt Larkin

Author:Matt Larkin [Larkin, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Incandescent Phoenix Books
Published: 2018-10-15T06:00:00+00:00

“What in the name of my father’s father is this?” Thor roared.

His outburst had Sif lurching awake, reaching for her spear. She looked around the small cabin, but found no sign of others.

“What have you done?” Thor bellowed, his voice coming from outside.

“Oh, troll shit,” Sif grumbled. She raced outside to find Thor standing over a pile of bones and gristle. Dead goats.

“Y-you said to cook the goats …” the farmer stammered. His children had taken up behind him. Or rather, the farmer held back Thjalfi who tried to interpose himself between Thor and his father.

Thor’s brows knitted and he stomped over to the man. “I told you to kill my goats, did I?”

“Y-you said that—”

“Kill a goat!” Thor roared. “I didn’t offer you both of them!” The prince glanced at the charnel pile. “Poor Tanngrisnir … I’ll avenge you.”

He’d named the goat? When did he name the … The rest of the line settled on Sif like a rock in her gut. Avenge a goat?

The farmer whimpered and threw himself at Thor’s feet. “Please forgive me, Ás. I … you demanded food and I had naught to offer.” He sputtered, seeming afraid to even look up at Thor. “Please, I’ll give you all I own! Just please don’t harm us.” He glanced at his children, then back, tears glistening in his eyes.

Sif strode forward. “Of course he’s not going to harm you. We understand it was just—”

“Fine,” Thor snapped. “I’ll have recompense for the goat. Naught in your cabin holds any value, save the slaves.”

“I … have no slaves.”

Thor sneered. “No? Well now I do.” He snapped his fingers. “Boy, girl, fetch the bags. We’re leaving.”

Sif groaned. Troll shit. Momentous piles of troll shit. Whole fucking mountains of it.

The farmer choked on his sob, but Thjalfi stepped around him. “It’s all right, Father. I am … honored to serve the Aesir. As is Roskva, I’m sure.”

From the look on her face, Roskva was torn between excitement and terror. And why not? Thor’s moods changed faster than the winds.

By the time they’d packed everything, Loki returned, a pair of skinned snow rabbits dangling from his hands. One he offered to the farmer, who wept at it, and the other he kept for their journey.

As Thor tromped off ahead—his new slaves in tow but casting glances back at their former home—Sif hung back to explain all that had passed to Loki. Odin’s blood brother said naught while Sif talked of the demand Thor had placed on the poor man. An old farmer alone in this valley, without the help of his children might well die. While not strictly Sif’s problem—she’d not long ago wanted to abandon this entire land—it didn’t fit with Thor’s nature in the least.

Loki just nodded.

“Something is wrong with him,” Sif said.

Loki cocked his head to the side. “He has a shard of rock slowly working itself through his brain. I’d assume this carries with it severe headaches among other deleterious effects. The man you knew may well have died fighting Hrungnir.

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