INTRO
 
Welcome to CHAPTER 75 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 Vafthrudnir for a very short chapter. We last saw Vaft in Ch 73 when he brought his apprentice, Kali, into the Gap to lay claim to one of the disir — the one that had been released when the witch Yelena killed the baresark Gulfinn. Vaft had kept Freyja busy while his apprentice fought Freyja’s priest — and when he was distracted by Kali’s success, Freyja stabbed Vaft in the belly.

Chapter Seventy-Five
Vafthrudnir
Vafthrudnir woke trembling. He was in a tent, wrapped in a bedroll on hard-packed snow, chilly despite the obvious layers between himself and it. Where was he? And where was—
Fimbulthul?
When she didn’t respond immediately, he began counting his own, increasingly rapid heartbeats. When she still didn’t respond, he pushed himself up—and then pain drove him down to his back. Cold sweat broke across his forehead.
She could not be dead. Disir couldn’t be killed, so far as he knew.
He forced himself to sit up, growling through the pain, hoping that he hadn’t just learned something new.
The tent flap opened and a pair of figures stepped through: Hersir Beli and Kali. Their respective fylgjas, Hrid and Gunnthra, followed behind.
Kali held a satchel in one hand.
“You’re in my tent, Vafthrudnir,” Beli said with his fingers. He gestured toward Kali, “She ran you here.”
“Where is—”
Beli raised a hand, stopping him.
“Badly hurt,” Kali said aloud. She switched to the hand speech. “But Gunnthra says that what’s in here will—should—heal her. And you, as well, High Shaman.”
“Hrid agrees,” Beli said. “She also thanks you for saving her sister.”
So Beli had told Kali. Or Gunnthra had sensed it. Fimbulthul could, after all.
“Several more adepts have arrived, High Shaman,” Kali said in the hand speech, “bearing word that you and I must return to Jotunheim at the Skrymir’s request.”
He grimaced. “All this back and forth is really, really tedious.”
Beli gave a sour smile and signed, “Our scouts have found Jarl Vidar and his warband. They’ve stumbled across one of our staging areas. The shaman there says he’s certain the Aesir saw the work underway but that he was probably too far away to make sense of he was seeing.”
Probably. “Will you attack him?”
“Of course,” Beli said, holding up one hand to forestall the obvious objection. Vidar had wiped out one warband. Inadvertently, perhaps, but he was intelligent and had, quite likely, learned from his mistake. He could also command whatever ancient charms Ygg had taught him. Best to not underestimate him.
“We have the snow bears—more than when you left us, actually, thanks to Adept Kali and the others. And now more shamans have joined. Moreover, the jarl’s warband is small, hungry, tired, and about to fight on unfamiliar ground,” Beli said. “We have the advantage. But it’s time for you and Fimbulthul to recover—and to return to Jotunheim.”
Beli reached into his satchel and withdrew a small golden fruit. 
Vafthrudnir’s mouth watered, and his stomach growled. He hated it, but the sacrifice was necessary. His people needed him.

OUTRO
Well, folks, that was CHAPTER 75 of Kinsmen Die. I hope you enjoyed it.

Vaft and his disir were badly wounded, but Beli brought a remedy.

Kali’s fyljga is named Gunnthra. That name means “battle groove.” 

We discovered that Beli also has a fylgja. Remember in the previous chapter when Vaft said that one need not be a shaman to bond with a fylgja? Well, not only was he referencing Odin’s approach, but he was also referring to Beli. 

There’s a lot more to Beli myth wise, but I’m going to leave that to book two and three.

For now, I’ll just say that Hríd means "stormy weather” or “tempest.” I gave Beli a second-name…he’s Beli Stormseye, because of how he fights…and b/c it’s a nice play on the meaning of his fylgja’s name.

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.

Bellows, Verse 75
A man knows not, if nothing he knows,
That gold oft apes begets;
One man is wealthy and one is poor,
Yet scorn for him none should know.

Larrington, Verse 75
The man who knows nothing does not know this: that many are fooled by money;
one man is rich, another is not rich,
he should not be blamed for that.

I’d like to clarify that second line of the Bellows translation — the word “apes” … as in a monkey … is used.

The Old Norse word is actually “api” A P I … it’s there in the text, clear as day. Etymology Online says that the word probably comes from the Proto-Germanic “apan” and that it’s likely from an Eastern or non-indo-European language.

Kodratoff’s more literal translation basically says the following: that for money a man will become a monkey

As in: a man will make a fool of himself to acquire money … which isn’t quite what Larrington’s translation says.

Thanks for listening.