Lorcan's Fireside Story Time

Hermod and Smukhilde

Author's note: The Snersker are a warlike people from the far north with a strong honor/shame component to their culture. Their Patrons (guardian spirits), like themselves, are harsh and occasionally violent, and they are all prone to feud cycles that can last for centuries.

This story is told by Henorm, Beso's caravan guard captain, who was captured by the Snersker as a lad and was later sold to Beso, a fact he has in common with Cokelli, who was Lorcan's thrall until Lorcan freed him.

------------------

The merchant's inn was doing brisk business even as the hour grew late. Although they had enjoyed a fine meal and plenty of wine, the diners at Beso's table showed no signs of wanting their beds. The man himself sat, as always, between his caravan guard captain Henorm, and Heshbon, his clerk.

Beso raised his goblet. "Who will tell a story?"

"I will tell one," replied Henorm. "I will tell you a story of the Snersker Patrons."

Lorcan and Cokelli stared at him, remembering their tense conversation at the inn at Lista where Henorm was aghast at the sound of the Snersker tongue.

"Hermod is their Patron of War," said Henorm, "and Lurgi and Hollar are the Patrons of Wrath and Retribution. One day, when the world was young, Hermod was walking through a village of men who lived near the mountains of Guerneshol, home of the Patrons of Snersk. There he beheld a maiden walking from the fields with a basket of flowers. His passion was aroused by her beauty, so he bent down and carried her back to the mountain to make her his own.

"Her father Lanman, the village chief, was furious and called upon Lurgi and Hollar for aid. 'My daughter Smukhilde has been stolen away by a mighty thief,' he said. 'Bid him bring her back and compensate me, for he has dishonored me in front of the village, and has no doubt defiled her.'

"'I will surely take his head as compensation,' said Hollar, drawing her sword.

"'Who has done this deed?' asked Lurgi, the fires of wrath kindled to flame within him. 'He shall pay for his insolence, for you are our neighbors. By his deeds, he has dishonored those who dwell at Guerneshol.'

"'A Maygti* from the Mountain has done this. He is tall, broad-shouldered, and carries a mighty ax whose shaft is carved with glowing runes of doom,' said Lanman, who was shaking with fury and grief. 'He wears a breastplate of iron, his black boots are tied with thongs of gold and his cloak is blood-red.'

"'Are his hair and beard red also?' asked Lurgi, his face clouded with doubt.

"Hollar shuffled uncomfortably and asked, 'Does his helmet have a bull's horns on?'

"'Yes,' replied Lanman. 'All of that. Why do you hesitate to avenge me?'

"'He is Hermod, Patron of War,' they told him.

"Lanman's face fell. 'Have I not called upon you?' he asked. 'Who will bring down wrath and retribution on one who robs a father of his daughter and his honor if you do not? And how can you be our Patrons if we call on you and you do nothing?'

"Lurgi and Hollar turned to each other and agreed that Lanman's cause was just, so they went back to Guerneshol to confront Hermod. They went straight to his house and kicked down the door, surprising Hermond, who hastily pulled up his leggings as he rushed towards them.

"Smukhilde curled up in a corner, sobbing pitifully.

"'Hermod,' said Lurgi, 'you have taken this woman from her village without leave from her father. You must return her to Lanman at once and compensate her father for the affront to his honor.'

"'I will not,' replied Hermod. 'Who is Lanman that I should acknowledge either him or his honor? Am I not the Patron of War? I take what I want; it is my nature, and I cannot change it any more than water can stop being wet.'

"'Then you must suffer retribution!' cried Hollar, slashing at him with her sword.

"Lurgi threw fireballs at him, driving him backward. Hermod picked up his ax and swung it at his attackers, and the battle began in earnest.

"The villagers, alarmed by the flashing lights on the mountaintop, turned to Lanman and asked him what was happening.

"'I called on Lurgi and Hollar,' he said, 'for Hermod had stolen Smukhilde away.'

"At last, Lurgi and Hollar returned, bloody and wounded. Lurgi carried Smukhilde's charred body, for she had been killed by one of Lurgi's fireballs in the heat of battle. Hollar carried Hermod's head and his great battle-ax. They brought these to Lanman and said, 'See, we have kept our word. Wrath and retribution have been unleashed on Hermod, but since he is a Maygti, he cannot die. Here is his head to do with as you will.'

"Lanman called the villagers together to make a great pyre and to prepare Smukhilde's body for her funeral. When it was ready, he put his daughter's favorite possessions beside her body, along with Hermod's head, then lit it. Hermod's head burned with Smukhilde, and when the pyre had burnt out, he called for more wood, put the head back in, and lit the fire again. Seven times he burned Hermod's head, then nailed it to the back wall of his hall as a trophy.

"A year later, raiders came from another village and attacked Lanman's village. Those they did not kill they sold as thralls at the uttermost ends of the earth. Lanman himself was put in chains. As he was being led away he called out to Lurgi and Hollar, asking, 'Why did you allow this to happen to us?'

"'We are the Patrons of Wrath and Retribution,' they replied. 'Hermod called upon us, and we answered.'"

"That was the short version," said Cokelli. "The saga of Hermod and Smukhilde tells of a war that began with her abduction that lasted for seven years. It takes a week to tell all the stories of the war between the Maygtis of Guerneshol and who took sides with Hermod—and who didn't. Some of the battles involved great heroes of men. The conflict completely engulfed the northern part of Snersk. Although the original war is over, some of the Maygti are still fighting with each other. On a clear night, you can see the trails of Lurgi's fireballs in the sky."

"Have you seen them?" asked Lorcan.

"Yes," Cokelli replied. "Nothing grows there. When the battles are particularly violent, the ground shakes and the rocks melt. We do not know what they are doing and no one can get close enough to find out."

"I have heard similar tales of the southernmost parts of Antica," said Beso. "On the island of Rochafoco, a great mountain coughs up smoke and has streams of molten rock pouring down its flanks. Ash rains down from the clouds above it and chokes everything. There are many stories about why this is."

Lorcan took a sip of wine, then said, "I wonder if the people of other lands where there are such mountains have stories like that. I would be interested in learning whether they are all similar to this one."

"I suppose it is the only way that people can make sense of what they cannot explain," said Heshbon. "But they do make good stories."

------------------

*powerful spirit