INTRO
 
Welcome to CHAPTER 16 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. Every TEN chapters, I recap the key plot points and provide some insight into the myths I’ve referenced in the book as well as some of the creative choices I’ve made along the way.

And yes, I used to recap every FIVE chapters, but I’m going to change it up a bit for a few reasons:

1) I don’t feel like we’re making much progress in the book — we’re just now hitting the “inciting incident” which is when the plot really kicks off. With fewer recaps, I think the pace will improve a bit.
2) Fewer recaps will give me more time to dig deeper into some of the mythic elements. For example, a deep dive on necromancy in Norse myth, or the Vanir War, which I keep hinting at but haven’t had time to address. 


And finally, please rate and/or review the podcast — let me know what you think of the evolving format, the book so far, or if you think Odin would drink coffee…if he knew what it was.


When we last left Hodr Odinsson, he had just returned home to his girlfriend Alara and, rather than help her in the way house, he’d been sent to muck out the stables.

Which is where we join him now.

Let’s do this.

Chapter Sixteen
Hodr
Hodr leaned the pitchfork against the stable wall, pressed his bunched fists into the small of his back, and arched backward. A dozen pops and cracks chased up his spine. Only three more stalls to muck out.
Were it not for the warm tingle that had spread through his body after he’d eaten the year-old fruit of Yggdrasil, he would have left those three stalls for tomorrow. But with the flush of renewed youth running through his limbs, he felt as if he could clean twice as many more.
And the odd part was he didn’t mind the labor. His old self, the warrior, would never have bent his back to clean a stable.
He turned his face up to the sun, enjoying the warmth but hating the remembered yellows and reds pressing against his eyelids.
Kona whinnied at him from the enclosure behind the stable, and he made a shooing gesture. “All right, I’ll get back to work. Go play. Enjoy the day.”
And judging by the breeze’s scrape across the stable’s roof, these pleasant winter days were numbered. 
His hand found the stable wall, sliding along it till he gripped the handle of the pitchfork. With the tool tapping before him, he stepped into the empty space before him until a dull thud found him the wheelbarrow. When he found its handles, he tossed the pitchfork into the barrow, but it clattered and bounced out, thudding onto the frozen earth.
He sighed. It had taken many winters before he had gotten used to getting around in the dark. Whenever he rushed, he ended up regretting it.
“Can I be of help, karl?” It was one of the house thralls that Alara kept around.
“No. Be about your own work.”
“Yes, karl.”
He cocked his head, listening to the receding scrape of the thrall’s boot leather. He took a short pull from the wineskin hanging from its cord around his shoulders.
Shaking his head, Hodr plugged the wineskin, stepped around the wheelbarrow, and groped for the pitchfork and then placed it so it wouldn’t fall out. When he refound the handles, he trundled toward the rich stink of refuse.
No, the warrior he’d been would never have done this work.

OUTRO
Well, folks, that was CHAPTER 16 of Kinsmen Die. I hope you enjoyed it. 

We were with Hodr as he mucked out stables and remembered the man, the warrior, he’d been.


As I mentioned before, please
1) Rate and/or review the podcast on whatever app / platform you use. They really help.
2)   Please share the podcast. That also helps a ton.
3)   And finally, please consider supporting my work by buying my books or in some other way – likes, follows, Patreon, Locals, etc.
 
I’d also enjoy hearing from you. You can email me at mattbishopwrites@gmail.com

  
As always, I’m going to read from the Havamal, sayings of the High One, Odin himself.

With this episode I’m going to start reading the Bellows and the Larrington translations

It’s a great refresher for me and it nicely juxtaposes an older way of translating the text with a more modern version

Bellows, 
https://www.sacred-texts.com/neu/poe/poe04.htm
 

Bellows, Verse 16

The sluggard believes he shall live forever,
If the fight he faces not;
But age shall not grant him the gift of peace,
Though spears may spare his life.

Larrington, Verse 16
The cowardly man thinks he’ll live for ever, if he keeps away from fighting;
but old age won’t grant him a truce
even if spears spare him.