The Mists of Niflheim: Eschaton Cycle (Gods of the Ragnarok Era Book 2) by Matt Larkin

Author:Matt Larkin [Larkin, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Incandescent Phoenix Books
Published: 2017-04-02T00:00:00+00:00

Gudrun trod back down to the dungeon alone. Odin was no longer bound to the altar, but chained to the wall. He squinted as she opened the door. Her father had put out the candles, leaving Odin in darkness. A minor torment, compared to the others. Servants had allowed him to use the chamber pot and had cleaned him up after his ordeal.

“What now?” he demanded. “Here to fuck me or flay me?”

Gudrun knelt before him, hiding her disgust at the grime and filth that covered the dungeon floor. “Neither, my love. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You have.”

Gudrun recoiled from the venom in his words. Had she not just made love to him a day before? “I’m sorry.” The words just slipped out. Grimhild had told her a princess of the Niflungar apologized to no one. “How long has he kept you in the dark?”

Odin snorted. “Has your father forgotten I too have the Sight? There’s starlight in the Penumbra, enough to sustain me. Or is that part of his plan? Force me to look there, to see the ghosts that flit about this place? Are they meant to be a vision of my own future? I do see them, Gudrun. The vaettir, waiting in the wings, so eager to slip inside me if my guard should drop.”

“He’ll put you back on the altar at midnight,” she said. “Please, Odin. If you choose me of your own free will, I can stop all this. He’s desperate to bring you to our side before Grimhild returns.”

“Even your father fears your mother, then?”

“He’s trying to save you, for my sake.”

“Save me?” Odin spat at her. “Save me! If you want to save me, take off the fucking chains! Release me, Gudrun, and I will spare you. I will …” He shook his head, and his voice softened. “Please, Gudrun. You have to know this is wrong. However much Hel has corrupted your heart and soul, surely there is some humanity left in there.”

Corrupted her heart? Was that what he thought of her? Her stomach burned with an empty fire, and she rose and backed away. Her heart wasn’t corrupted. She and her people had made their choices, that was all. They had done what was necessary to survive the Fimbulvinter and the chaos that it brought with it.

“I am a descendant of Halfdan the Old!” she said, thumping a finger against her own breast. “I am a princess of the Niflungar, greatest of the kingdoms born of Halfdan. My people built an empire while the Aesir hid in caves! We built the castles and monuments spread across Midgard. Do not speak to me as though you understand our ancient lineage.”

“And where is this empire?” Odin spoke through gritted teeth, his anger still driving her backward, making it hard to hold on to her own. “If Hel is so great a patron, why did your people fall?”

The fire-worshipping Lofdar and their priest, Loge. Gudrun shook her head. She wasn’t about to admit that to him.

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