Chapter 21

"We have a new diplomatic mission, John," Morgana told me a few days later.

"Can't be any worse than seeking out a higher power and asking them questions," I replied jokingly.

Morgana simply raised an eyebrow.

"Oh hell, what now, my Mage?" I asked.

"I've been tasked to liaise with representatives of the Æsir government to see if there is any more aid we can give them with their Nephilim incursion," Morgana said.

"I thought 'officially' we weren't giving them any aid?" I replied.

"We aren't, 'officially'. Which is why this is a delicate mission for Simon, not the Council," Morgana replied.

"Council aren't to know then?" I asked.

"Not even know we're there at all," said Morgana. "Though as with a lot of things, some will know and approve, some will know and ignore us anyway as they know fine well that without our 'aid' the Æsir would be struggling to cope."

"Any do's and don'ts?" I asked.

"They are a proud warrior culture and a version of the 'code duello' still holds strong, even amongst Mages," Morgana said. "Watch your tongue, John, as an inadvertent word can cause offence and I will not be able to intervene if you are challenged."

"I take it that sometimes 'offence' can be contrived too?" I asked.

"Very much so, John," Morgana sighed. "There are some whose pride has been hurt by having to ask us for aid and they will be looking for a way to salve that pride by attempting to make us withdraw said aid. I will mostly be safe as they wouldn't dare attack Simon's representative. But you'd be fair game."

"So why take me?" I asked somewhat bemused.

""Jerahmeel's destiny thing," stated Morgana with an evil grin. "You're now my official lucky charm."

"I'll try not to kill anyone too important then, my Mage," I replied with a wink.

"Make sure you don't, John," snorted Morgana, plainly trying not to laugh out loud.

The following day Morgana and I teleported from London to the Æsir consulate on one of the Æsir worlds. Morgana had done her trick with a pocket dimension to carry our entire luggage and had watched amused at my previous attempt to emulate her.

"You're getting better, John," she said after finally taking over. "But you still lack subtlety in your control."

"Yes, my Mage. I suspect I have a tendency to run before I can walk at times," I replied.

"Most journeymen and women do, John, you aren't unique," she replied.

We ported into a richly furnished if windowless room. I could feel a series of very nasty and extremely powerful wards being lowered before a door finally opened to allow us access to a foyer. We were greeted by what at first appearance was a clown of the Pierrot style in a riotous array of loose fitting and randomly patterned clothing, though without the white face. To a Mage though he was clearly something else, a quite powerful Mage and not from our strand of humanity, though unlike the Nephilim, he was within the norms of our genome.

"Greetings, Seiðkona Morgana," he intoned formally whilst totally blanking me.

Fortunately thanks to Morgana's warning I was prepared for such behaviour and ignored the greeter in pretty much the same way as he chose to ignore me. I watched with interest as a faint reddish tinge of ire glossed his cheeks on being ignored by someone he had chosen to insult.

"Greetings to you, Seiðmaðr Tesslarr," intoned Morgana, deliberately giving him a lesser cognomen as a form of rebuke to his rudeness in ignoring me.

The anger in his face grew ever more obvious, but because he'd opened with the gambit of ignoring me there was precious little he could do to retrieve the situation without calling Morgana out and though foolish, the man wasn't a total idiot.

Another Mage approached from out of a doorway.

"Greetings, Seiðkona Morgana and Seiðmaðr John," he said with a smile and an outstretched hand. "You are most welcome here as you travel through our portal."

"Greetings, Vanir Snorrison," we both intoned politely, giving him the correct cognomen for his rank and profession, before shaking his hand, Morgana first as the higher ranking Mage.

"Well, that's the boring official protocols out of the way," Mage Snorrison said. "The portal will be opened shortly as I've now confirmed that you are who you say you are, in the meantime could I get my assistant here to get you some refreshments?"

"No need Snorri," said Morgana going to him and giving him a hug. "It's good to see you, my old friend."

"Good to see you too, Lady M," he replied as he returned the hug with gusto. "It's been too long."

"Sadly work and politics," Morgana said with a brilliant smile.

"Tell me about it," he replied. "It's good to finally meet you too, John. Tales of your derring-do have even reached the ears of those in my government. An Old One indeed?"

"Sheer dumb luck, Mage Snorrison," I replied informally.

"I'd rather be lucky than think I might just be good," he replied. "If we get a chance, I'd love to discuss what happened with you. With your kind permission, Lady M?"

"Of course, Snorri," Morgana replied politely.

"Sadly though the secure portal is now open, so I must wish you skaladjø," he said as he led us through to a room with a door frame set centrally in the middle of it.

This was the only official way to visit the Æsir Earth. Simply porting there without passing through what was to all intents and purpose a customs inspection made you fair game to their hunting clans as well as being terribly impolite. Within the blink of an eye we were in another room on the world of Valaskjalf, the governing planet of the Æsir Confederation.

What can I say about Valaskjalf? Well, if you're expecting a planet full of Vikings with axes and winged helmets then you'd be thoroughly disappointed. Certainly there was a Norse tinge to the language as my ears heard it, though that I suspect was simply my brain converting what it heard into terms it thought I'd be comfortable with. The capital city of Valaskjalf is Sverresborg, a city of wide open parkland interspersed with low, massive buildings, which looked to be highly defensible with narrow window slots facing the outside world. Most of this building design comes from their thousand year war with the Tuatha Dé Danann, where the Æsir longbow and crossbow stood them in good stead for defending their homes. Not that the fighting was constant for all that time and the Æsir were hardly under siege for most of it, usually taking to the countryside in armed dróttina or warbands, I suppose, is the closest I can come to it in English. Essentially it was a group of armed men and women headed by a Mage or Seiðkona as they call their High Mages along with a few lower level Mages or Seiðmaðr all of whom were armed with bow weaponry or pikes. The Æsir won in the end simply because theirs is a warrior society. They looked upon the Tuatha Dé Danann as inferiors to whom defeat would have been dishonourable. It was however the Mazdani incursion on their planet Finias which meant the Tuatha Dé Danann gave it up as a bad job, as their losses had meant their disputed few footholds had become unsustainable. These days other than odd architecture showing their military roots there is little to show of that war for the Æsir who, as far as I can tell, were quite disappointed the Tuatha Dé Danann gave up so easily.

We were met by a representative of the Æsir government and a small party of ... I suppose you could call them aides, though they were essentially part of her family's personal warband, it was that kind of society.

"Greetings, Seiðkona Morgana and Seiðmaðr John," she said formally.

"Greetings, Vaniralla Freya," we replied. Vanir and Vaniralla being a title (of sorts) for representatives of the Æsir government, essentially it meant they were allowed to bear weapons in the Thingvollrr, their equivalent of a parliament.

"I have been tasked to escort you to some quarters set aside for you during your visit," she added politely.

"Lead on please, Vaniralla," I replied as had Morgana requested it, it would have come across as a command, whereas with me it came across as a request from a lesser rank. Yes, it's complicated and no, I haven't completely gotten my head around it even today. Essentially, I asked for things and Morgana gave praise once it was done, had Morgana been there on her own it got even more complex as the Æsir would have had to find someone of equal rank to speak to her and Morgana was rated pretty damned high by the Æsir.

Freya led the way whilst her aides surrounded us to keep passers-by at a comfortable distance as our mode of dress set us aside as tlagr or outlanders. No, they did not dress at all as Vikings and I did not see a single horned helmet. The Norse allegory the Æsir were partially linked to only went so far. I wasn't too bad as most Æsir dressed in very loose fitting trousers and baggy tunics of some kind with very bright mismatched colours, even the women. But Morgana was wearing a fringed suede miniskirt and boy did she stand out from the crowd.

"You appear to be causing a sensation amongst those viewing us, my Mage," I said quietly.

"It's deliberate, John. Many will only look at the surface, not what I am, and it will enable me to put a few prejudiced types in their place eventually," she replied with a smile. "You'll note it hasn't fazed Freya at all though."

"I suspect she's read your 'file' and knows appearances can be deceptive," I said.

"Yes, she's being careful not to cause offence unlike that fool in the embassy," Morgana replied.

"I doubt he'll forget meeting you, my Mage," I said with a grin.

"I doubt he'll forget what you did to him, John. That was a masterstroke, treating him as a social inferior not to be spoken to until he'd given formal recognition," she said.

"It helped that you did the same, my Mage," I said.

We arrived at one of the fort like buildings and two of the aides swung the doors open for us to allow us into a lovely courtyard with several planters of flowers and a small fountain.

"I trust these will be adequate, Mage Morgana?" asked Freya.

"Indeed, you have performed your allotted task with speed and grace, Vaniralla Freya," Morgana replied formally to Freya's obvious pleasure.

"You will be collected tomorrow to be taken to a meeting in the Thingvollrr. I will leave you now to rest," Freya said and her party gave a formal nod of respect before leaving the way they entered.

We were met inside by a small delegation of staff who were tasked to see to our needs and comfort and we spent the day in what passed for a lounge in Æsir terms discussing our agenda for the following day before retiring for the night.

The following day Morgana was escorted to a meeting in the Thingvollrr whilst I took the time to visit the Council's Embassy in Sverresborg purely as a courtesy. It was soon obvious that I was being observed as I made my way through the various parts of the city, taking advantage of the nice spring weather to do some exercise. I suspected it was partly caution and partly protection. The Æsir might not be able to protect me should I fall foul of their duelling codes, but it would not go down well with Morgana. They'd prefer to avoid her killing any group who chose me as a victim. Still, I was armed, as all above the age of maturity were in Æsir society, with a Smith & Wesson survival Bowie knife with a 9 ½" blade strapped to my belt as well as its twin in my pack.

I didn't spend too long at the Embassy, the ambassador knew fine well why Morgana and I were there and thoroughly approved of the covert aid the Æsir were receiving. He did warn me as had Morgana to be very careful. Whilst many of the Æsir were glad of the modern weaponry, mostly AK47's and ex-Soviet mortars, there were a small if vocal group of conservatives who were appalled at the use of un-Æsir products and had sought to prevent their distribution.

It was on my return that I spotted a challenger, his mind simply blazed his intent along with his contempt for tlagr. He was clearly no Mage and he thought he could get close to claim I jostled him. The contempt in his mind had turned to stark fear as he realised that I'd frozen his muscles and that he'd almost offended a Mage, I doubted I'd see him again. Still I thought, the next time will probably be more subtle. I was wrong.

I had picked up some of the local currency at the embassy and hoped to visit one of the markets to get Róisín a gift, though I hadn't a clue as to what (the eternal male) but at least I was making the effort. I had been told to haggle hard and never simply pay up on the first offer as the vendor might simply be offended enough to refuse to sell. It wasn't a concept I was used to, still at least I could hopefully pick up what was to me a bargain. I had been told the best market was in a square near the river, Sverresborg being roughly where Budapest was on my Earth. Finding the river was easy enough, finding the market slightly more difficult, though finally I used common sense and simply asked one of the 'official' spies trailing me.

I had to admit I was impressed, if there were markets like this on Earth, then I had failed to find one. They sold everything from food to weapons (swords AK47's, arrows), clothing to gold bars. I was specifically looking for jewellery which I had been told was an Æsir speciality in the Sverresborg district but did wonder if Roisin would appreciate the soft linen clothing the Æsir wore, not for general wear but as a set of pyjama's/evening wear. In the end I found some very nice stuff and proceeded to haggle the seller down to about half of what he originally wanted which seemed satisfactory to both of us. I then wandered around to watch an armourer blacksmith at work producing various blades for a group of interested Æsir. I did notice that most of the blades he was making were some form of sabre or slashing weapon, indeed few had points, though the knives he made obviously did. It was at this point that I was jostled to one side and narrowly avoided a thrown fist to my face. Turning I faced a group of youths who had been drinking and who thought to have a little fun at the outlander's expense.

"You clumsy oaf!" one of them roared. "Can't you look where you're going?"

"Why would I need to do that when standing still?" I asked mildly.

"Are you calling me a liar?" the youth roared back. "He's calling me a liar, I call challenge!"

At this he attempted to throw another punch at my face which I easily sidestepped and allowed him to fall sprawling onto the ground. By this time a small crowd had gathered to watch the fun, though I sensed no malice from them, merely interest. I simply stood and watched as he pulled himself to his feet cursing and struggling with jeers and occasional taunts being thrown in his direction. Lurching forward he threw a wild haymaker at my stomach again failing to make contact and I stuck out my foot to trip him and let him sprawl on the ground again. This time there were howls of derisive laughter at his misfortune and his friends attempted to intervene only to stop as several in the crowd placed hands upon weapons at their breach of the code duello in which only the challenger can fight the challenged. The young man had heaved himself back to his feet and hurled himself at me, arms spread wide to try and grab me and force me down only to discover I was ready for this having sidestepped him and landed a solid blow to the side of his head to send him crashing into the blacksmiths stall. He then made a major mistake by grabbing a sabre and attempted to come at me with it, drawing back his arm to make a long slash at me only to come to a halt as the blade of my Bowie knife was suddenly at his chin slightly pricking the surface and allowing a small trickle of blood to flow down the blade.