INTRO
 
Welcome to CHAPTER 50 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.

This week we’re back with Odin. It’s been a few chapters since we with him, but a lot’s happened. He’d sent the envoy away with a threat — either the Skyrmir tells me which Jotunn tribe destroyed Hals or I send Thor against you. We know from Loki’s chapter that the Skrymir will not divulge that info. 

So, let’s see how Odin handles rejection.

We rejoin him now.

Chapter Fifty
Odin
Odin stood just outside Gladsheim’s largest hall looking down on the river Silfr. With Sól nearly touching the western mountain, the shadows of the walls and gate towers bridged the river. Hours earlier, Baldr had stepped onto a burning ship and saved a merchant’s daughter. His daughter Hermod, who he barely knew, had fought a pair of Aesir who thought that burning longships was a way to drum up sympathy for the Jotunn.
Twenty winters gone, and his city had almost doubled in size under Frigg’s leadership. Their daughter was a young woman. Their son Baldr had become beloved not through strength of arms, but through his healing. It was certainly a different approach to leadership than his, but maybe Frigg was right. Maybe Baldr’s approach was better suited to the times than his own. Except the Jotunn had attacked.
He’d also been back a full week and still hadn’t dealt with the dreams plaguing Baldr. Too many other things kept interfering. Tomorrow he would, though. For certain.
A knock came at the door; Fimafeng shuffled into the dying light. The steward cleared his throat and said, “Your pardon, Alfather. The Jotunn envoy requests a meeting. I left him waiting in the usual place. I also bring word from Hár Frigg.”
Odin nodded. Frigg and Nanna had left early to continue organizing the Midwinter celebration. Shortly after midday, Frigg had sent word that she had been asked to judge several divorces. Everyone in the city had the right to ask for the Almother’s judgment—or his—in any case of divorce, murder, or rape. Otherwise, judgments were handled by individuals appointed within each city district, who also presided over matters such as theft, disputes, damage to property, or other comparatively minor issues.
“She says that the last divorce hearing is still going on and that you should not wait for her. Máni will rise before she is finished.”
Frigg had told him this particular divorce was complicated by the husband’s influential family, the large dowry, and the brevity of the marriage itself.
“Very well, Fimafeng, thank you,” he said. “Please show the envoy into the hall. Do you know where Thor is?”
“After he returned from Ithavoll, I believe he returned to his quarters. Shall I send for him?”
“Yes, please do. Any word from Gulfinn regarding Heimdall?”
The elderly steward stroked his long beard which, twenty winters ago, had been more blonde than gray. “Not yet, Alfather. Shall I send the wardens out looking?”
Odin shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Gulfinn knows where I am; he’ll find me once he gets Heimdall sorted.”
“Very well, Alfather.” Fimafeng inclined his head with more stiffness than he remembered seeing before. “I’ll show the envoy in.”
“Thank you, Fimafeng.”
“My pleasure to serve, Alfather.”
When Odin re-entered the hall, he found the envoy standing on the platform, hands clasped behind his back.
Odin stepped up onto the platform and clasped the man’s hand in greeting. He gestured for him to sit and took his own chair.
“So, Eldir, what does the Skrymir say?”
The envoy sketched a bow but did not sit. “Jarl Odin, the Skrymir regrets that he cannot provide what he does not know. He expresses his deepest condolences that the misguided actions of a rogue tribe caused such harm to the Aesir. He has launched a full investigation into the attack, led by none other than Vafthrudnir. Whatever they find will be relayed to you through me. And, finally, he hopes that you might show some mercy toward his people.”
Odin held the envoy’s gaze for a long moment. The Jotunn seemed earnest enough, even down to the beaded sweat on his brow and upper lip.
“Very well,” he said. “You are dismissed.”
The envoy hesitated, wanting to ask the obvious question, but under his flat gaze, he withdrew.
Huginn and Muninn, Odin called out with his thoughts.
We are here, they both answered. A pair of hoarse croaks filtered down from the gap in the roofs, their preferred perch when he was in the hall.
Find Thor. If he’s not already on his way, ask him to join me.
We go.
Hammer and lightning, then.

OUTRO
Well, folks, that was CHAPTER 50 of Kinsmen Die. I hope you enjoyed it.

Odin didn’t like the answer he received from the envoy, so he’s sending Thor against the Jotunn. 

Next week, we’re back with Frigg.

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.
  
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 50

50. On the hillside drear the fir-tree dies,
All bootless its needles and bark;
It is like a man | whom no one loves,
Why should his life be long?


Larrington, Verse 50
The fir-tree withers that stands on the farmstead,
neither bark nor needles protect it;
so it is with the man whom no one loves,
how should he live for long?



Thanks for listening.