Fred Saberhagen The Book of the Gods 05 Gods of Fire and Thunder

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The northman studied his young colleague warily. "Just what everyone knows,
or
ought to know."
"What?"
"Well. That Wodan, and Loki, and all the rest are people just like you and
me.
Except that at some point in their lives, each man or woman of them picked up
and put inside his or her head one of the things that we call Faces. And each
Face gives its wearer tremendous powers."
"I believe that Wodan must be more than that." The young man's voice was low,
but full of emphasis. "The Father of Battles must be something more than just
a
man with power."
Hal sighed. "Well, I don't want to argue. What makes you think I have
knowledge
of gods beyond the ordinary?"
Baldur shook his head, as if in disappointment with Hal's answer. "When we
first
met you told me that you'd once been shipmate to some god, but failed to
recognize him."
"Hah, so you were listening after all! But the fact that I once made a fool
of
myself doesn't qualify me as an expert on the subject."
"You must know something more than you have said!"
"Not much."
"But I have never even seen a god!" Baldur clenched his fists and turned
around.
"If Wodan should appear now, up there on the mountain . . ." He seemed almost
despairing at the prospect.
"You'd deal with the experience somehow. People do. If he appears, then at
last
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you'd get to see what he looks like. Tell me, besides Wodan and Loki, what
other
deities are most popular around these parts? To which of them do people
pray?"
"Well, there's Loki, of course. But I wouldn't say Loki is popular. Feared,
yes.
He's the subject of talk, not the object of worship." Baldur sounded wistful,
adding: "Naturally, those who hope for leadership in battle universally
choose
Wodan."
"I suppose. Who else?"
The young man meditated briefly. "Thor may be even more popular with the
common
soldiers of course he too is a good fighter."
"Of course." Hal was nodding. The mention of Thor had jogged his memory,
brought
back in sharp focus the face and voice of the poor woman standing in the road
with her ragged children, snatching back her copper coins and mouthing the
strange prayer, or blessing, with which she had anointed Hal.
He nodded again. "Thor with his hammer, a mean weapon by all reports. As I
understand it, he throws it out to kill anyone or destroy anything he
chooses.
Then back it flies to his hand again. I've heard some stories about that. But
what about the ordinary folk? Who do they worship? Not everyone wants to be a
berserk warrior, froth at the mouth and ignore wounds."
"Certainly not." Baldur's tone became cool at this irreverence. "As for the
commoners who are not fighters . . ." The young man had to stop and think; it
was as if he hardly could remember anyone who fit that category. "I suppose
Freya is most popular. She's undoubtedly the greatest goddess and there are
half
a dozen lesser deities, male and female."
"No more than that?" Hal snorted. "Down south they have 'em by the hundreds."
Baldur's look seemed a polite expression of doubt. If such a swarm of beings
claimed divinity, he seemed to be thinking, most of them must be frauds, or
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at
least inferior, and he had no interest in them. "And do the people down there
know of Wodan? Are they true warriors?"
"Warlike enough," Hal assured him. "And you may believe me or not, but few
down
there have ever heard the name of your All-Highest. Round the Great Sea,
where
I've been living the past few years, everyone would tell you that Zeus is the
greatest god of all, practically the ruler of the universe. Of course Zeus
frequently has his troubles with Hades, now and then with Neptune. He's
chronically at war with Giants. And down there, if you ask who is the god of
war, people will tell you it's a fellow called Mars, or Ares."
Baldur shrugged and shook his head, as if there could be no accounting for
some
people's crazy ideas. "Our gods, with Wodan leading, know that they will face
monsters and Giants in the final battle of the world, when fire and flood
destroy everything." He sighed. "Giants are another kind of being that I've
never seen."
"I don't know about the end of the world. But no one around here has ever
raised
a temple or an altar to Zeus? Or to Athena?"
Baldur seemed to be trying to remember. "I've heard those names mentioned.
But
altars and temples? No, I don't think so."
Hal clapped him on the shoulder, an almost staggering blow. "Lad, it is time
you
got out in the great world, and discovered what most of the people in it are
doing!"
The youth was steadfast in his gloom. "Brunhild is the only part of the world
I
care about. To join her, or to spend my life in the attempt, is the only
adventure I am seeking now."
When their journey once more resumed, under a sky grown bright enough to let
them identify the marks left by gnomes' feet in the white snow, Hal and
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Baldur
got one more look at the glow of the distant fire-ring, now many miles away.
Drifted piles of old, crusted snow began to appear around the trail as they
went
on up. The trail itself was covered, and the footprints of the two gnomes
were
plain to see. The snow was naturally deepest in the places remaining shaded
all
day long. On and on the two men traveled upward, deeper into the mountains.
It
was good that they had equipped themselves for cold weather before setting
out.
And, since they wanted to avoid freezing to death, a fire was beginning to
seem
like a necessity, not just a good idea. Hal kept thinking it over, and
shivering, until he convinced himself that there was no real reason not to
have
one, if they built it in a sheltered place and kept it small. At night the
Earthdwellers would be intent on their own climbing progress, steadily
getting
farther ahead, not much caring if someone else happened to be on the trail [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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