Welcome to CHAPTER 46 of the Kinsmen Die podcast, home of fantasy fiction based on Norse mythology that’s written and read by me, Matt Bishop.

In this podcast I read my first novel, Kinsmen Die, one chapter at a time. And, with each episode, when it makes sense, I provide some commentary about the source materials I’ve referenced in the text.

Back in Chapters 43 and 44, Odin and Frigg had been discussing all of the various events we’ve witnessed as well as some new ones — like the emergence of a “fifth column” so to speak among the Aesir called the Sons of Muspell. In Ch 44, also broached the subject of Odin’s abdication from Asgard’s throne in favor of their son Baldr. 

In Ch 43, the Jotunn envoy asked Odin and Frigg to wait for him since he wanted to speak with his boss, the Skrymir. That angered Odin, but Frigg smoothed it over. In Ch 44, the envoy arrived and was ready to speak with Odin and Frigg.

That is where we pick up the story.


So, let’s get to it.

Chapter Forty-Six
Odin
“Four. Hundred. Dead.” Odin thumped the arm of his chair, emphasizing each word. “Háls numbered maybe nineteen hundred people. What explanation does your Skrymir offer, Envoy?”
The envoy, Eldir, took it well. No tensing in the shoulders or sweat on his forehead. He stood before them with legs slightly spread, arms clasped behind his back.
“Jarl Odin, Hár Frigg, the Skrymir has directed me to say that the attack on Háls was not made at his behest, nor does he know who carried it out. He suspects that it was a—”
“—rogue tribe that hates the Aesir and wants to exact vengeance for...” Odin rolled his hand in the air. “We’ve heard that story before, Envoy. Quite often before the Last War. One of those attacks even began that war—isn’t that right, Hár Frigg?”
“Indeed it is, Alfather,” Frigg said.
“Is it another war that your Skrymir wants, Envoy?” he asked. He thumped the chair again, and Draupnir clunked dully against the wood. Frigg had said the Jotunn wanted peace, but he didn’t believe it. “Because only my son Baldr’s mercy stays my hand. Thor is prepared to rain lightning down upon Jotunheim, and my hersirs prepare our warriors to march on Jotunheim.”
“I understand your anger, Jarl Odin. I made exactly your point to the Skrymir and told him you wouldn’t accept that explanation. Nor would he, if the situation were somehow reversed.”
Frigg’s tone was as smooth as a rolling river. “You delayed our earlier meeting because you expected communication with the Skrymir. Is the answer you gave just now the result of that conversation with the Skrymir?”
“Yes, Hár Frigg.” The envoy nervously touched his scalp, which was devoid of tattoos. “Of course, it was my shaman who spoke with his counterpart in Jotunheim. I did not speak directly with the Skrymir.”
For some reason he’d yet to puzzle out, there were more shamans among the Jotunn than among the Aesir. Most of them could spirit-walk, too, which meant that they could speak across the many miles just as he and Frigg were speaking with the envoy now.
He had always believed that the shamans who spoke not only exchanged their own secret orders, but also kept certain information from the envoy. There were battling factions among the Jotunn. In that, at least, they were like the Aesir.
“Of course,” Frigg said. “Can we assume that there will be a more complete answer forthcoming, Eldir?”
The envoy nodded sharply, his black top knot falling forward and back again. “The Skrymir assured me that while he does not know who attacked or why—or why now, given the long peace and growing trade between our people—he is looking into it.”
Odin allowed his flush of anger at those words into his voice. “Looking into it? Tell me, Envoy, exactly how many rogue tribes are there?”
The envoy stared back at him, meeting his gaze without any hint of a challenge. “Dozens, Jarl Odin. And they range in size from a few families to many.”
“Why has the Skrymir not brought these tribes into Jotunheim? He seemed more than capable when I met him after I killed his predecessor in the Last War.”
“We are a broken people, Jarl Odin. It’s all the Skrymir can do to hold those in Jotunheim together. He doesn’t turn away any who seek refuge there, but he also doesn’t seek to add those who would cause trouble.”
“Better to let them raid Aesir towns, eh?”
The envoy smoothed his black beard with one hand and bowed slightly. “With respect, Jarl Odin, that’s not what I meant. As I’m sure Hár Frigg has told you, the Jotunn have suffered greatly since the Last War. Utgard seems to grow colder every year, crops refuse to grow, rivers run foul, game is scarce. Saddest of all, our women no longer bear live young. Truly, the Norns have cut a wicked doom for us.
“The trade that has since developed between our peoples, along with the twice-yearly visits by your son Baldr, have brought a small measure of renewed health to the Jotunn. We hope that in time and with the continued generosity and mercy of the Aesir, children’s piping voices will again be heard in Jotunheim.
“So I beg you, Jarl Odin, before you send the Thunderer to rain storms upon us or send your armies to spit us upon spears, consider that we Jotunn have no reason to slap away the hand the Aesir have extended in friendship. It would be madness for us to countenance such a raid as you’ve described to me, let alone carry it out. Both I and the Skrymir are appalled by what happened, and he is, believe me, searching hard for an answer that will stay your hand.”
Odin sat back in his chair. That was quite the plea. He didn’t feel that the man was lying or exaggerating. It all fit with what Frigg and Baldr had told him. But if it had been meant to move him to pity or lower his guard, then this envoy was a fool.
Frigg broke the growing tension. “We suspect that the ‘rogue’ warband slipped into Asgard either via the trade route or by ship, perhaps over several months. My son’s wife is checking back through the records we keep on Jotunn merchant movements.”
Eldir nodded. “Just between us, Hár Frigg, we believe that the trade route is the most likely explanation. There’s really no other way, given the nature of the fortress and the sea patrols.”
“At what point did the Skrymir become aware of warriors sneaking into Asgard?” Odin asked, leaning forward.
“I don’t understand, Jarl Odin. With respect, we’re still not sure how it was done. The trade route seems a good guess.” The envoy spread his hands. “If I may—and I apologize, for this is a delicate subject—but have you considered the possibility that this attack was aided by some among the Aesir?”
Odin kept his expression fixed. This envoy did indeed have a spine. And it was a clever statement, given that it mirrored exactly what they had discussed at Ithavoll and not long ago in this very hall. It forced them to suspect their own, whether or not there was cause.
“We’re looking into that possibility,” he said. “And should we find a link, we’ll pursue it wherever it leads.”
The envoy nodded gravely, concern radiating from every pore in his body as he hid what had to be a deep-seated satisfaction that his blow had struck flesh.
Frigg added, “If we were to suggest that we resume inspections of all carts moving between Utgard and Asgard, how do you think the Skrymir would respond?”
“I could convince him, I think, that doing so would show good faith and an earnest desire to root out whatever troublesome element exists within the Jotunn people.”
Odin noted Frigg’s glance at him from the corner of his eye, but he kept his expression neutral.
“Tell me again, Envoy, just how many rogue tribes are there in Utgard?”
“A handful, Jarl Odin,” the envoy said, shifting slightly. “But by definition, we don’t have a good count.”
“We know within a few thousand how many Aesir live in Asgard,” he said. “You mean to tell me that the Skrymir cannot do the same?”
“With respect, Jarl Odin, the Aesir have many good roads, wardens to keep the peace, an army to deal with threats and, of course, the Einherjar. We Jotunn have none of these things. Well, roads, yes. To an extent. Not like here in Asgard, though. Our best road is the one linking Jotunheim to Ifington, and even that one is maintained by funds paid by the merchants traveling it.”
“Jotunheim collects substantial tariffs from all trade along that route, yes?”
“I’m not privy to the details, but yes, I believe that’s the case, just as it is here.”
“And what does the Skrymir spend that gold on?” Odin asked, conscious of Frigg folding her hands in her lap.
Eldir smiled. “Where are you going with this, Jarl Odin?”
“I’m just curious as to how much gold the Skrymir has spent acquiring weapons from the Svartalvar.”
Like a startled blackbird, surprise flitted across Eldir’s face. Then he had it under control and caged. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Jarl Odin. Haven’t the Svartalvar been gone for more than a hundred winters?”
“So I thought,” he said. “And I should know, since I’m the one who herded them onto Skidbladnir and sailed them far away. But during the Last War, which you seem too young to have fought in, we captured a Svartalvar device from a Jotunn warband that had ventured within a night’s ride of Gladsheim’s northern wall. Do you happen to know anything about that? The warband or the device, I mean. Or both.”
“I’ve never heard of either, Jarl Odin. My spirit hadn’t even been drawn from the Gap at the time of the Last War, let alone when the Svartalvar were still a force to be reckoned with.”
“We also think it curious that the Jotunn attacked Háls. Do you know my son, Jarl Vidar? He rules in Vithi.”
“I have not had the pleasure, Jarl.”
“It was Vidar who wiped out the Jotunn warband. Him and a handful of his garrison. He is also the one who determined that this device was of Svartalvar make—and as it happens, that device was in Vithi. Did this ‘rogue’ warband raze Háls while on its way to retrieve the device?”
“I don’t know, Jarl Odin. Until now, I didn’t even know of this device,” Eldir said with an earnest shake of his clasped hands. “What does it do?”
He ignored the question. “Do the Jotunn have more of those devices?”
Eldir spread his hands. “I don’t know that, either.”
“Did Jotunn spies inform the Skrymir where the device was? Or was it Aesir traitors bought by the Skrymir’s gold?”
“If you mean spies, Jarl Odin, that would violate our treaty,” he said. “And even if we had them, I’m the last person who would know about it.”
Odin stared hard at the envoy, searching for any sign the man knew the answers and was trying to hide it.
The envoy looked from him to Frigg and back again. “Jarl Odin, I don’t know anything about these matters you raise. I will speak with the Skrymir, though, and try to get the answers you seek. But I suspect it will be difficult. We don’t live as long as you do. No Jotunn alive today was alive during the Last War, except perhaps a few ancients.”
“You will return to us no later than tomorrow evening with two pieces of information,” Odin said, raising his hand to count off the two points. “First, you will provide the name of the rogue tribe or clan that attacked. Second, you will provide their location.”
“I will do everything I can to provide you with that information, Jarl Odin,” the envoy said.
“I hope so, Envoy Eldir. For in two nights, Thor will fly to Utgard and destroy one of your people’s few remaining villages. I would prefer that he destroy the one responsible for the death of my people and the crippling of one of our mining and timber operations. But you do understand that I cannot let the Skrymir believe that the Aesir have grown weak since the Last War.”
In the moment before the envoy opened his mouth to reply, Odin finally saw the glimmer of hatred he’d been certain lurked behind the envoy’s calm expression.
When the envoy spoke, though, his tone was even. “I understand, Jarl Odin. If I may have your leave?”
Odin nodded.
 “Before you contact the Skrymir, Eldir, please speak with Baldr,” Frigg said. “ Just yesterday, Baldr presented the Alfather and myself with extensive plans to have Aesir craftsman enter Utgard. There, under the Skrymir’s direction, they will help build or rebuild roads, longhouses, storehouses—anything that might help the Jotunn. Naturally, the expense will come from Gladsheim’s coffers. Baldr has many other ideas as well that may prove beneficial to both our peoples.”
The envoy made no effort to hide his confusion as he looked back and forth between them. “A very kind offer, Hár Frigg. I assume Gladsheim’s generosity is dependent on our providing the information you require?”
Frigg shook her head. “No, Envoy. The offer stands regardless of your Skrymir’s decision.”
“I see. Well, I will relate both... offers... to the Skrymir when I contact him.” He bowed to each of them, backed away three paces, then turned and left the hall.
Frigg turned to Odin. “You were a little rough on him, don’t you think?”
“I wanted to see what it would take to rattle him.”
“Well, you did.”
He grinned. “I know. Took quite a lot, though.”
She frowned. “Can I also assume you wanted him to tell the Skrymir that, yes, Ygg is every bit as awful as he’d be warned, but that Frigg is still the reasonable one?”
“No harm in that, is there?”
She sighed. “Do you really mean to have Thor attack? You know the Skrymir won’t provide a name or location.”
“Aesir died, Frigg. We must show strength.” He met her steady gaze. “And how better to show them your new way than to remind them of how harsh mine is?”

OUTRO
Well, folks, that was CHAPTER 46 of Kinsmen Die. I hope you enjoyed it. This was the halfway point of the book. It’s all downhill from here.

In this chapter we learned that the Jotunn envoy said exactly what Odin and Frigg expected him to say. And we also know, from Loki’s chapter, that all the Jotunn are looking to do is buy time.

The name of the Jotunn envoy, Eldir, is drawn from the Lokasenna and will prove important in my third book. Otherwise, there’s nothing else going on myth-wise.

Next week we’re back with Loki. Until then, if you have the time and inclination, please rate and/or review the podcast — that helps boost the show’s visibility. As does sharing it.

And if you’re so inclined, shoot me an email at mattbishopwrites@gmail.com.

I’d love to hear from you.
  
As always, I’m going to read from both the Bellows and Larrington translations of the Havamal, the sayings of the High One, Odin himself.

Bellows, Verse 46

So is it with him whom thou hardly wilt trust,
And whose mind thou mayst not know;
Laugh with him mayst thou, but speak not thy mind,
Like gifts to his shalt thou give.

Larrington, Verse 46
Again, concerning the one you don’t trust, and whose mind you suspect:
you should laugh with him and disguise your thoughts: a gift should be repaid with a like one.
 

Thanks for listening.