“The rules of hnefatafl vary by region, but the goal is simple: capture the king or die trying.”
—Midgard: Culture and Artistic Expression
The butcher tossed each cloth-wrapped cut of meat onto the counter, one slab at a time. Twelve packages in all; stewing meat, deer steaks, and two full rabbits. Enough to do us for a few meals.
“Thank you.” I put the gold on the counter, knowing full well he wouldn’t take it from my hand.
The butcher kicked the door to his cool room closed, and the runes around the door jam flickered blue, humming to life. He wiped his hands on his apron and counted out the coin. “You’re two pieces short.”
Not this again.
“This is what we agreed a minute ago.”
He spread out the coins with his red-stained fingers. “Price went up.”
“I should string you up from the wall. This is extortion.”
“Yup.” He leaned against the counter and wiped the back of his hand across his wild beard. “We both know that I’m the last butcher in town that’ll sell to you, Wife of Lies. Now shell out the two coins, or go home with nothing.”
I reluctantly dug into my coin purse. He was right, and every few weeks he jacked up his prices. Threatening him hadn’t worked because he and everyone else knew that I hadn’t shown my face in Valhalla in years and that I more or less needed him. I tossed the coins with the others and haphazardly piled the meat into my bag before storming out.
Thankfully, that had been the last stop. I’d already gotten eggs for Jormungandr, a pastry for Hel, and all the odds and ends we’d need to feed the small army we’d acquired. But the meat wouldn’t last long, not with eight in the house.
I kept a steady pace through the market, keeping my hood up and my head down. Someone still spat at my shoes as I passed. I spent the rest of the walk home imagining what life would be like if I had just divorced Loki when I had had the chance.
When I arrived at home, I knocked three times, paused, and knocked three more. The key scraped in the lock from inside and an eye peeked through. Loki let me in and locked the door behind me.
“Did you get it all?” He took the bag and set it on the table, unpacking things one by one.
“I think so.” I hung my cloak and took the packages of meat from him. “You’re going to have to risk going in disguise again, or Váli’s going to need to start hunting. If I buy this much from the butcher every few days, he’ll either bleed my purse dry or realize we’re up to something.”
Angrboda came out from the bathing room, fully dressed, her face still flush from the warm water. “She returns.”
I fished a bag from the pile of goods and held it out to her. “Your order, your highness.”
Delighted, Angrboda held the package up to her nose and inhaled. “I’ve never loved anything in my life as much as I love Jotun coffee.” She put it on the mantle and set to work putting water on to boil.
“You’re welcome,” I muttered. “And things here?”
“Calm as could be.” Loki closed the door to the cellar and went back to the furthest end of the room, where he settled onto the floor among stacks of open books and notes.
Which left Angrboda and I alone.
She was raiding the kitchen for something, and feeling unwilling to help, I took in the scene in front of me.
Hel and Narvi had pulled the chairs out from the study and were playing a game of hnefatafl with Loki’s wooden game board. Even from here, it was clear that Hel was struggling, and when Narvi moved his final piece into place, her expression didn’t change, but the shadows around the room flickered and bent for just a moment.
On the other side of the room, Váli was getting ready to go back up to the training grounds for the second half of the day, but Fenrir was incessantly following him around, sniffing and yipping. Angrboda had said it was the wolf in Váli, that the pup could smell it on him, like family.
And last, Jormungandr had slithered his way out of the hot bathing room and into Loki’s lap, where he curled up against the heat of his legs.
A cup of dark coffee interrupted my view. Angrboda had her own, and apparently one for me. Curious. “Thank you.”
She shrugged and leaned against the cupboard. “Calm before the storm, do you think?”
“The kids?” I went to stand nearer, though not too near. “I think…I think they’ll be alright. Hel seems versatile, and Narvi doesn’t have it in him to hate anyone. Though I’m shocked Váli hasn’t gutted Loki in his sleep.”
“Frankly, little goddess, I thought that would be you.” She returned my glare with a laugh. “Come on. You may not be my type, but you’ve got a little fire in you. If our roles were reversed, you wouldn’t still be breathing.” She took a long drink.
“One of the many differences between us, I suppose.”
“Were you harbouring some hope of having him back?”
I looked at her. “Isn’t that a bit personal?”
She swept a hand out toward the room. “And this isn’t? We’re all sleeping conveniently under the same roof, all connected by one scrawny man.” That grin crept back on her face. “I’ve always wondered. What’s he like when he’s here? Is he the same Loki I know?”
“That depends. Now or before?”
“Both. Entertain me.”
I sighed, taking a sip of the hot, bitter coffee. “He used to be sweet. Sure, he got us in a lot of trouble, but then he’d come home and do the dishes and read with me in bed. I could rely on him for anything. Now, he’s a stranger. Narvi has all his affection, and the rest of us are just here. We exist together; that’s all.”
She shook her head, lips pursed. “No. Not the Loki I know at all. My Loki is full of rage and passion. Even this is too much. He’s just sitting there, reading.” She looked directly at me. “I used to know, you know. The times he slept with you. He’d come back dejected and sour. Mope around like everything in his sight was a mistake. Made him unbearable. I was almost jealous.”
“I don’t see you as the jealous type.”
“I protect what’s mine. That’s not the same as envy.” She took a drink. “Honestly, you could take him to bed now, and I’d be more likely to join than fight you off. But that doesn’t seem your style.”
My face turned red, struggling for something to say.
Angrboda chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’re too nice for what I’d want to do.” With that she walked away, settling in beside Hel’s chair to give her a few strategic pointers.