INTRO
 
Welcome to CHAPTER 63 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 Hodr. Hodr received a magical spear from Lopt. While holding the spear, Hodr can again see—not perfectly, but enough for it to potentially change his life. 

Let’s rejoin him now.

Chapter Sixty-Three
Hodr
“Are all the thralls out of the house?” Hodr asked as Alara stepped into their private area, where the bed was. His new spear in hand, he sat on the bench along the side wall. His other hand rested on the bag containing the fruit his father’s wolf had brought several nights earlier.
“What’s this about, Hodr?” Her voice sounded alarmed. Her face was a misty blur in his new sight. “And why do you have your spear in here? You know where everything is.”
“Come in and pull that hanging shut, in case someone walks by,” he said, smiling. “Everything’s fine.”
He heard the heavy fabric hanging whisper along the wooden rod, but better yet he saw it move—dimly, a gray cloud drifting in front of a thunderhead—but he saw it.
“Now come and sit,” he said, patting the bench beside him. “Please light a witchlamp too. I couldn’t find the flints.”
“You’re making me nervous, Hodr. Are you feeling all right?” He heard her doing as he asked and he saw her pale hands strike a brilliant spark that shone as bright as the remembered moon. The spark moved to the wick, the light steadied and the beams above their heads appeared as did the squared posts that held them aloft.
She sat beside him, her shoulder brushing his. He put the fruit in her lap. “Unwrap it.”
Her hands froze in the air above the packet. “Is this what I think it is?”
Hodr nodded.
“But... how? When did you get it?”
“Geri brought it several nights ago.” He touched her hand. “Go on, take a bite.”
“Who came?”
“Geri. One of my father’s wolves—that’s his name.”
“Ah.”
She toyed with the bag’s drawstrings. “Did you know Geri was coming? Is that why you insisted on being out in the yard?”
He smiled but shook his head. “I’d no idea. But I told you, Freki or Geri bring me one of Yggdrasil’s fruits every winter, usually around this time. Just good luck it happened to be the night I sat out.”
Alara slipped the fruit out of the bag. She held it up so it caught the light of the witchlamp. “It’s beautiful.”
Indeed it was. They always had been. It was the first thing he’d seen that appeared to have some color to it—a hint of golds and reds, like the sky just before Sól slips away. 
“Idunn tends the branch of Yggdrasil from which they grow—the only place they do grow, so far as we know.” He touched her knee. “Go on, take a bite. Actually, wait—let’s cut it in half first. Once you start eating, it’s almost impossible to stop. But cut it in a bowl to save the juices.”
She took three quick steps toward the cooking area before she stopped. He heard her shoes slide on the wooden floor as she faced him. “And eating this will make me young again?”
“Well, it’s not like you’re old now—but yes, it will. I don’t know how it works, but my father says eating it makes the waters of the Roaring Cauldron flow through your body. They heal and restore, stripping the winters away like a woodworker’s plane exposes the fresh wood underneath.”
“Hodr, I...”
She stood, an icicle in the dim light. He set his spear aside and moved across the small room to her, two steps to her three. His hands found hers and the fruit they held.
“You’re trembling, Alara. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t eat this, Hodr.” She pressed the fruit into his hands.
“But why not? It’s the only way we can be together.”
“If I eat it, then I won’t age, right?”
“Well no, not really. You still age, but each time you eat the fruit, it restores you—makes you whole. Younger. Still you, but always the you when you first ate the fruit.”
He saw her head shake. “So when I eat it, I’ll outlive everyone I know? My brother will grow old and die while I stay young?”
He nodded, not knowing what to say. That’s exactly what would happen.
“And if we marry and have children, they’ll also grow old and die while we stay young?”
Again, he nodded. “But only if we keep eating it. If we stop, we will grow old and die.”
She stepped back. Her hands left his. He no longer felt her breath on his face. “That’s not right, Hodr. My brother’s the only family I have left. I could maybe handle him dying while I kept living, maybe. But to outlive my children? To see them age, have their own children, and then see all of them, child after child, take the ship to the Gjoll’s shores? I’m crying just thinking about it.”
She leaned in and kissed him, and he felt her tears on his cheek.
“But I thought you wanted this. For us to be together.”
“I do. But not like this.”
“What if I asked my father to give fruits to you, as well? And to any children we have? He’s done so for my whole family. Would you change your mind then?”
“And then our children’s children? How many fruits grow on that tree?” She stroked his cheek. “I honestly don’t know. Would he even grant me that gift?”
“I…I don’t know.” Especially since he hadn’t spoken with his father in more than forty winters. He sunk to the bench. His hand found his new spear, and the room drifted into view.
Like a longship’s prow, her face edged into his vision. Memories flooded his mind of tracing her features with his fingers—the straight, bold nose, the high cheekbones and the creases at the corners of her eyes, full lips and a strong chin, her long hair pulled into a braid. She looked entirely different from how he’d imagined, and yet she was entirely the same.
“How many fruits have you eaten?”
He shrugged. How many, indeed? “More than a hundred, I suppose. I ate my first when I completed my first service in the army.”
“Hodr, I wasn’t even alive then. My grandparents were probably my age. Maybe their parents. I don’t even know.”
Unbidden, a memory of sparring with Thor leaped to mind, along with the first gut-punch his half-brother had landed. That’s what he felt like now. It was all he could do haul in his next breath. When he did manage it, all he could think to say was, “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Why would you?” He heard the slight smile in her voice. “Let me ask you this. How many has your father eaten? Twice as many as you?”
“At least. Probably more. What’s your point?” He winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that like it sounded.”
She twined her fingers with his. “I know. I guess my point is that you take your long life for granted because you’ve never known anything different. But for me, it would change everything. I’d even have to leave this way house behind eventually, just as I’d outlive the children we had—and then their children’s children.”
“We could stop eating them, whenever we choose.”
He watched the corners of her full lips turn ever so slightly downward. “Yes, maybe we could.”
By which she of course meant no, they never would. He hadn’t, and he’d lost everything. The spear slipped from his fingers and his sight vanished as if it had never been. A howl was bubbling up inside him. What did she care about? If it wasn’t long life with him, then what?
“What do you want, then?”
He felt her shrug. “I want you, Hodr. A life with you.”
“And then death.” The words lashed out like a sword before he could stop them. “I’d have to give up my life to share yours.”
She moved away from him, abruptly, their bodies breaking contact.
“I’m sorry. Really. Again.” He fumbled for the spear, and Alara swam back into view. “I just... It’s just that I don’t know what to do. With this, I feel like a new man. Like I have something to offer again, whereas before, I just drifted from one winter to another.”
“With what?” Her brow furrowed so prettily. So that’s what she looked when she was confused.
“The spear. Lopt gave it to me as recompense for the injury he dealt me. When I hold it, I can see a little bit. It’s like I’m looking through a fog.”
And yet even that dim sight only showed her in broad strokes and rough outlines. She’d stepped too far away. “You can see now?”
“Not like I used to. It’s only when I hold the spear. It’s like when Máni’s full—everything’s drained of color. I see well enough to make out your face, especially when you’re close.”
She stepped toward him, boots lightly scraping, and there she was, dress flowing and rustling, concern creasing her brows, hands clasping and unclasping.
She seemed hesitant to come closer. “And it’s safe?”
Odd question, but he’d grown up around seidr. “I think so. Lopt was surprised his runes gave me sight. He hadn’t expected or even thought that it was possible, but it is. And it’s certainly better than spending every living moment in the dark. You seem...”
“Scared?” She laughed, holding herself. “Yes, quite a bit, actually. I’m surprised you’re not.”
“Alara, my father regularly changes into an eagle. And like him, one of my uncles can shift into any shape he chooses. Even Heimdall can change his shape—only a seal, but still. When you’ve seen all that or stood your ground while your brother brought lightning down on your enemies... well...” He shrugged again and tapped the spear against the floor. “This seems a small thing.”
“What can you change into?” she asked, her voice small.
“Me? Just a mole.”
A double heartbeat passed. Then she took two quick steps toward him and smacked him on the arm.
He grinned and pulled her down beside him. She kissed him hard and said, “I’m happy for you, but this—the fruit, your new sight—is so much to take in all at once. I’m not as used to magic as you are.”
“I’m realizing that now,” he said, nodding and gently squeezing her hand. “I’m sorry I sprung it on you.”
“You should also realize that your being blind doesn’t bother me—never did. I came to love the man you are, not the man you wish you were.”
What could he say? “I know it, Alara. And believe me, I love you too.”
She leaned in, kissed him gently this time, and snuggled into him. In a quiet voice, she asked, “How long have you been blind?”
She knew very well how long it had been. “Since the Last War—more than forty winters.”
This time he saw her smile, so sad and sweet it would have made him cry, if he could.
“I’ve only lived through about twenty winters, Hodr,” she said.
He knew that. Of course he knew that. But something about the way she said it hit him like one of his brother’s hammer strikes. He’d been blind twice as long as she’d been alive. The snow bear had spat in his eyes before she’d even been born.
Before the silence could grow louder than even the rushing Franangr, he said, “I may have lived longer, but I’ve only begun valuing my life since I met you. I don’t want to give that up. Not ever.”
She smiled gently and held his arm a little tighter. “But you won’t be. Everyone sails upon the Gjoll sooner or later. You and your family have just found a way to postpone that journey. I don’t want to walk on and on in a life without end. I want to spend the years I have left with you here, bear your children, watch them grow and thrive. And then, when the Norns have decreed it, I’ll walk down to the dock, take ship to the Gjoll’s shores, and either join you or wait for you there.”
“But if we eat the fruit, we won’t ever have to do that.”
“With the price being that I see our children die?” She shook her head again. “No. I won’t choose that.”
“I can’t just stop eating the fruit,” he said, because he never had. “He’ll keep sending them, winter after winter.”
“He can’t force you to eat them.”
He ventured a grin. “You haven’t met my father.”
She let the comment go. “Nor am I saying you should confront your father or your mother.”
“It feels like you are.”
She sighed and wiped tears from her cheeks. “Maybe I am. I don’t know. You’ve been talking for several winters now about how you need to put your past behind you and make peace with your family. Maybe now’s when you do that.”
“By choosing life with you or without you?”
She slid toward him, kissed him, and wrapped her arms around him. “I love you, Hodr. You’ve made these last few winters a joy to me. Your choice is no different now than it was when we met. You’re just at the crossroads now.”

OUTRO
Well, folks, that was CHAPTER 63 of Kinsmen Die. I hope you enjoyed it.

So now we have it: Hodr has the magic spear with which he can see. He feels whole again. He offers half of Yggdrasil’s fruit to Alara who rejects the offer.

It appears that Hodr has to choose between continued life without Alara or eventual death with her. Either way, it also seems that he needs to resolve the animosity between himself and his father.

Next week, we’re back with Odin.

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.

We’ve heard this verse before; it’s one of my favorites — good advice no matter the millennia in which we live.

Bellows, Verse 63

To question and answer must all be ready
Who wish to be known as wise;
Tell one thy thoughts, but beware of two --
All know what is known to three.

Larrington, Verse 63
Asking and answering every wise man should do, he who wants to be reputed intelligent;
one shall know, a second shall not,
the whole world knows, if three know.



Thanks for listening.