INTRO   Welcome to CHAPTER 31 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. As I mentioned in the last episode, I’m now providing mini-recaps & dives into the myths I’ve referenced in the text rather than producing dedicated recap episodes every 10-ish chapters as had been my original plan. As Al Swearengen said in Deadwood: “Announcing your plans is a good way to hear God laugh.” Today, we’re back with Vafthrudnir. When last we were with him, he’d been talking with the Skrymir about a nefarious plot involving Loki…and in that chapter, the Skrymir ordered Vafthrudnir to join the war band Helveg … which is where we find him now. Let’s do this. Chapter Thirty-One Vafthrudnir Vafthrudnir leaned against the broad yew table. Opposite him, one of Helveg’s scouts used a long stick to trace on the map the paths she’d taken. She tapped one spot, and he tilted his head to make sense of the map’s markings. “The only difficult part is this scrabble here, High Shaman,” she said with the air of one who already said it once before. “Viper and I made it up no problem, but we’ll have to drop ropes down for the baggage and whatnot.” Hersir Beli looked a question at one of his captains. The man nodded. “I checked, Hersir. We have plenty of rope.” Beli grunted and motioned for the scout to continue. “After that, High Shaman, it’s just a normal trek to the stone pillar. Less than a night’s march for the warband. Viper and I rode further, so near to where the glacier dropped off into the Thund we could’ve dived off ourselves.” “And there was no route down,” Beli said, reflexively, though he hadn’t needed to. Vafthrudnir had already guessed the answer. Not only would the Skrymir have told him, but Helveg would have been up and nearly across the glacier by now rather than idling here in camp. After more than a hundred of winters searching, he’d only ever found one safe way out of Utgard: the doorways. One of the keys to those doorways hung from Beli’s broad belt. And this new doorway—well, possible doorway—was the real reason he was here. Dominating snow bears for Helveg’s use in the coming conflict was all well and good, but the doorways meant life for the Jotunn. He cleared his throat. “If I may, can you describe that pillar you rode past, scout?” She nodded, her long braids scattering shadows across the map. She picked up one of the small wooden disks that were piled before her, leaned forward, and placed it on the map. “It was right about there, High Shaman. It’s a long, low pile of rocks, higher at the southern end, which is how I approached it.” “How close did you get?” Snow bears had extraordinary senses. “We were downwind, so we got within probably two hundred yards. The nest was tucked right in close, so I can’t say how many total snow bears are in the pack, but I saw the matron myself and counted four females.” Which meant there were probably several adult males, as well. He could handle the matron, but the rest? That depended on how good Helveg’s shamans were. Having met both, he was surprised that Shaman Steinfastr had survived as long as he had. But, Adept Kali had potential. And it looked as if she hadn’t quite decided on which faction within the shamans’ ranks she would side with. “So what do you think, Vafthrudnir?” Beli asked. The ruby-tipped pommel of the finder flashed in the witchlamp’s glow. “The snow bears won’t be a problem, Hersir,” he said, with more confidence than he felt, “so long as we’re disciplined about it.” *** One of the advantages of his presumed old age was that he got to ride on a sled pulled by four young Jotunn warriors. His fellow shamans, however, had to walk—or run, as they were now—along with the rest of Helveg. As dawn approached, the crosswise stretch of the Bifrost above them faded, no longer a bridge of white-blue stars stretching from the southern end of the sky to the northern. Beyond the running figures of his bearers, the dark lump of rocks that was home to the pack of snow bears grew larger the closer they got. He guessed they were a few hundred yards out, so any moment now, the hersir would— A horn’s sharp note cut through the tramp of feet upon glacier ice. A voice shouted. “Helveg, walk!” Once his sled had crunched to a halt, he stood, stretched, and thanked those who’d pulled him along. Westward, clouds clung to the mountains’ shoulders. Hopefully the wind would pick up and draw that cloak over their heads. They were only risking being active in the daylight because he had received definitive word that Goldtooth was indisposed, thanks yet again to Loki’s clever bit of revenge. And, the attack on Háls had the other Aesir looking everywhere except this scrap of glacier in remote northern Utgard. Otherwise, they would have had to wait for an obscuring storm or night’s cloak. Not that they would have stormed a matron’s pack during a storm. Without shamans present, a lone matron could have wiped out Helveg. And matrons were never, ever alone. How many are there? he asked his fylgja. Just six so far, including the matron. So far? The nest goes down below the surface. Might be some down there also, Fimbulthul said. All right. Let me know if you find more. Just adults? Or pups, too? He raised a hand and waved Helveg’s two shamans over to him. Kali jogged over at once while Steinfastr made a point of taking his time. Both, but I’m not worried about the pups. “There are at least five snow bears in that nest. The matron makes six.” “How can you know that?” Steinfastr said. He ignored the question. Helveg’s own scout had counted that many, which meant that scout was very good indeed, since his fylgja hadn’t found any others. Not yet, anyway. “We will stand in the middle of Helveg’s fighting square, so we can cover each wall as needed.” Frost bears typically attacked in pairs, sometimes trios. Helveg’s signal horn blew three quick, sharp notes. The ranks of warriors closed into a large square of double rows around them. The warriors comprising the outside wall carried shields and axes; the warriors in the second row held spears, shields slung across their backs. One aktaumr stood behind each wall; they commanded the warriors in each wall. Helveg’s officers—the siglautr, kjolr, and Hersir Beli stood in the middle. As if in response, short howls that rasped like blades being honed issued from the nest of ice and stone. The snow bears were speaking to each other, no doubt coordinating their attack. The beasts were very smart which is what made them so dangerous and so valuable, once dominated. “Once you have them dominated, make them sleep. A pack this size won’t give us much time,” he said, meeting his fellow shamans’ eyes. “And conserve your witchthread.” Kali nodded. Steinfastr didn’t bother disguising his frown. Yes, what he’d said was obvious, but it bore the reminder. If any of them failed, the warriors protecting them would die. The dominations had to happen fast. “Good. Head to your positions.” They would be a triangle inside the warband’s square, with him at the front. “High Shaman, you are ready then?” Hersir Beli called out, one hand on the finder dangling from his waist. “Our quarry will test us shortly.” “We are, Hersir,” he called back. The snow bears would indeed attack soon. That was why they hadn’t bothered disguising their approach. Safer to draw the snow bears out than confront them in their nest. Have you found her yet? He asked his fylgja. More howls ripped through the air. An eddy of wind brought the stale reek of the nest to his nose. Yes. Let me guess—those howls were because of you. The equivalent of a shrug flowed into his mind. She knows why you’re here. This one’s formidable. I doubt the other two shamans can handle her. Can I? Helveg’s horn sounded a sharp note, and the fighting square moved forward toward the rocks and the nest. With my help, yes. OUTRO Well, folks, that was CHAPTER 31 of Kinsmen Die. I hope you enjoyed it. We were with Vafthrudnir, High Shaman of the Jotunn and one of my favorite characters in Norse myth. He and his fellow shaman, along with the Jotunn war band, Helveg…under the command of Hersir Beli…were in a remote, northern part of Utgard about to dominate — whatever that means — a pack of snow bears. Whatever those are. But watch out, they spit! As Hodr well knows. I’ll first discuss the titles I created for the various warband ranks: aktaumr, kjolr and siglautr. When I was world building the Aesir and Jotunn military, I didn’t want to use words like captain, lieutenant, sergeant Instead I used terms from longships — Norse words that were used to describe various parts of those ships…except for Hersir which is the title used to designate the leader of a group of warriors So, hersir is the leader of warband/vegr kjolr (keel) captain of warband/vegr siglautr (mast) lieutenant of warband/vegr aktaumr (brace) commands one “wall” of a 4-sided shieldwall Beli, his name means Bellower, and he is the Hersir of the war band called Helveg which means “the way to Hel” … or “the road to hel” I thought that was a cool name for a warband — they fight, kill enemies and send them to Hel. The war band is the “way to Hel” In Norse myth, a woman named Hel rules the underworld. It’s also called Helheim and in some sources Niflhel. In the Legion WoW expac your venture into Helheim … and they actually did a good job portraying it — rocky, misty, wet, cold. Hel is one of Loki’s daughters. More about her in a future episode. We meet Vafthrudnir’s fylgja again. Her name is Fimbulthul. That name is one of the Elivagar, which are the rivers that flow from Hvergelmir … which means the roaring cauldron … which I have placed at the center of the Ginnungagap…which I believe I’ve talked about in a previous episode. I just updated an old blog post about the Elivagr. I’ll link to it in the description. https://mattwritesmyths.com/2023/04/29/the-elivagar-11-rivers-flow/ And while there’s a bit more going on in this chapter, I think I’ll dive into that stuff when we’re next back with the Jotunn and their raid on the snow bear’s den. Next week we’re back with Vidar Odinsson at he tries to discover where the Jotunn war band — the one that destroyed Hals — came from. Before then, if you have the time and inclination, please take a few moments to rate and/or review the podcast — that provides valuable feedback for me and 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 the Havamal, sayings of the High One, Odin himself. As usual, I’ll be reading from Bellows and Larrington. We’re nearing the end of the verses in which Odin provides advice about how to conduct oneself in a hall during feasts. Bellows, Verse 31 Wise a guest holds it to take to his heels, When mock of another he makes; But little he knows who laughs at the feast, Though he mocks in the midst of his foes. Larrington, Verse 31 Wise that man seems who retreats when one guest is insulting another; the man who mocks at a feast doesn’t know for sure whether he shoots off his mouth amid enemies. Thanks for listening.