If I Had A Hammer

Preface

I never really took an interest in the Vikings until I read The long dark tea-time of the soul by Douglas Adams. It showed the Norse gods, something that most people have totally forgotten about, in a new light. It makes you wonder, What if they did exist, and they're up there, not being believed in any more, just sitting around, trying to fill time?. 

Then I thought, Could you be a god and not know it?.

I love fantasy books, the only problem is that in the past few years, this genre has been completely dominated by vampires. Now, I like vampires as much as the next person, and I enjoyed the fad for a little while, but there's only so much I can take, and it soon became boring. Personally, I think Norse gods are a welcome break.

I did have to do a lot of research. I suspect that's probably the reason the vampire genre was so popular. Every book series has its own version of vampire, (very few actually fear garlic or wooden stakes) whereas with the Norse gods, I wanted to be as accurate as possible. I read the entire Prose Edda translated into English, and then spent the duration of the film Thor yelling at the screen, so I can assure you everything said about the Norse gods is almost entirely accurate or based on Douglas Adams' ideas. And, moreover, I learned lots of other interesting facts.

For example, our word god comes from Odin. In the Germanic legends, he was referred to as Wodan. When it hopped across the channel, the 'W' became a 'G' (like garderobe and wardrobe), giving us godan which evolved into god. 

The name Rachel could also come from the old Norse Rach-Hel, meaning the avenger Hel who is half dark and half light, and presides over the domain with the same name.

They also believed the universe was made of a giant tree, and on each branch was a different realm. There were nine realms in all, those above the Earth (Muspelheim, Ljosalfheim and Asaheim (Asgard)), those at the same level as the Earth, (Jötunheim, where the giants lived, Midgard, where the humans live, and Vanheim) and those beneath the Earth (Svartalfheim, Niflheim and Helheim (Hel)). 

I also sometimes wish that I could have been a Viking child. The stories are fantastic, and incredibly gory. People always seem to be cutting limbs off, or cracking each others skulls into lots of tiny pieces, or tricking each other and scamming each other, usually Loki. 

But my personal favourite is a tale of Loki and Thor and a servant boy called Thjalfe going to Utgard, in the realm of the giants. They must each face a challenge. 

Loki says he can eat faster than anyone else, so he must eat faster then one of the giants. They were given a trough full of meat, Loki ate everything he could, and met the giant in the middle, but the giant had devoured everything, bones, trough and all.

Thjalfe then said he could outrun anybody. He was raced against another giant, and lost by only a little the first time, by a little more the second time, and had barely left the starting line the third time.

Thor said he could drink more then anyone. He was given a horn and tried to empty it. He drank as much as he could, but the amount of liquid never decreased. 

He then said he was stronger than anyone else. He was told to lift the king's cat, but could only get one paw off the ground.

Thor began to lose his temper, and said that he could fight anyone the king pitted him against. He faced an old woman, but was soon forced to admit defeat.

The next day, the king confessed to them, Loki was in fact in an eating competition against fire, and who can devour more than fire? The giant Thjalfe raced against was in fact thought; nothing can go faster than an idea. The horn Thor drank from was the ocean, and he drank so much that the tide had ebbed. The cat he had tried to lift was in fact the Midgard serpent, a snake wrapped around the Earth that lives at the bottom of the sea. Finally, the old woman he had fought against was Old Age, which no-one can fight. On that, the trio were banned from returning to Utgard.

I find something quite philosophic and poetic about that story. 

They also invented the story of Jack and Jill, who went to fetch a pail of water, only they were called Bil and Hjuke, which doesn't seem to have quite the same ring to it.

Some terms used in this book could probably use a little definition. Firstly, Ragnarok is basically the Viking Apocalypse. There are six successive terrible winters, causing general anger and frustration all over the world, so that brothers will slay each other for personal greed, and murder and manslaughter are rife on Earth. A wolf then devours the sun, another eats the moon and the stars fall from the sky. The sea rushes over the Earth, and the Midgard-serpent gets loose. The ship made of dead men's nails, called Naglfar, becomes loose; this is why Vikings had their nails cut when they were buried. Loki, the giants and Hel's friends come to seek their revenge.

Meanwhile, up in Asgard, Heimdall, the guardian of the worlds, blows the Gjallar-horn and calls an emergency meeting of the gods of the Æsir and Vanir, the highest ranking, and most famous, gods.

Most of the gods die in the battle, or commit suicide, but when they 'die' they are in fact sent to Gimle, a heaven for gods, and the Earth is then born anew, fresh and green, and the children of the previous gods take over.

Heimdall is the god who watches over all the worlds, and sees everything that is happening, everywhere, all the time.

Odin is the father of the gods, or the Allfather. Thor is one of his sons, as is Loki; but he is adopted, and is in fact the son of Laufer, the king of the Frost-Giants, and is often sly and cunning, and is a master trickster. 

Freyja is the goddess of love, health, beauty, and, depending on what you read, sometimes spring.

The afterlife for mortals, however, was very different. 

Say, you die in battle. If you are chosen by the Valkyries (choosers of the slain), you are taken to Fólkvang, Freyja's realm. Half of the slain warriors are taken here; whereas the other half are taken to Valhalla, Odin's realm.

In both these realms they have unlimited supplies of meat and mead (an alcoholic beverage made with honey).

If, however, you do not die in battle, you are sent to the underworld, Hel. That probably explains the Vikings viciousness. But other than that, what have the Vikings ever done for us?

It's weird when you think that these are the same people that brought us international flat-pack furniture and shops you are forced to walk around in a certain way. Makes you wonder if there is a connection.

Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Don't be paranoid. I'm not really talking about you. 

So, here is the story and I leave you with this thought: Þeir eru ekki hvítkál minn, svifnökkva minn er fullur af friði (Those are not my cabbages, my hovercraft is full of eels.).

Chapter 1

Here it was. Freyja's second day at this new school. The first school where she had been separated from her childhood buddies. Her first impression of the school had been that it was ugly. Not exactly ugly, just so very square and institutionalised, like some kind of prison. It mostly grey and generally bleak. Graffitied on one of the walls near the entrance was Lose hope all ye who enter here and some outlines of male genitalia. 

Encouraging words. Freyja thought, she tucked her blonde hair behind her ear as the wind got up.

So far, Freyja had made one friend, or at least an acquaintance with whom she had shared a brief conversation about mundane facts: Lottie.

Lottie (short for Charlotte, also known as Charlie by her parents) was the kind of girl who always looked as if she just walk out of a shop-window display. She never seemed to wear the same clothes twice, always wore her bag on one shoulder and used short, trendy phrases like OMG and LOL. 

She introduced herself to Freyja by saying Hi, I'm Lottie. I love your shoes. 

Freyja assumed that this was just a hollow pretence with which to initiate a conversation as she was just wearing a pair of green baseball boots.

Freyja had convinced at least herself that she was proud of her decision. She changed schools in order to study science and physics, a subject most girls seemed to avoid with a vengeance - a shame, truth be told. Freyja liked that sort of thing and the lack of any other feminine energy in the engineering class drained her more than she would have expected. The amount of fart jokes per hour was also out of control.

Despite looking forward to more new classes, Freyja longed to go home, make a cup of coffee, cuddle up with her cats; maybe watch some TV... Why did life have to be full of so much school? Your days are numbered, you should be out enjoying them, not being herded into a crowded room with other kids - your only similarities being your birth year - to listen to some old windbag drone on about something you barely care about?

After no lack of effort and some clumsy map-reading, Freyja found herself in her French class.

While absent-mindedly fiddling with her necklace Lottie leaned over to her.

What's that on your pendant? Charlotte asked, chewing thoughtfully yet indiscreetly on a piece of (what was once) strawberry flavoured bubble-gum. 

It was quite old, her mother had given it to her a couple of years ago, and had said that it had belonged to her great-great grandmother.

It's a rune, it's kind of good-luck charm.

Does it work? 

Chew, chew. It grated on Freyja's nerves until she wanted to hit Lottie.

Sometimes. Maybe. It's hard to tell. I’m not sure if I believe any of that stuff

A lull in the class encouraged Freyja to share the anxiety that had been weighing on her ever since she had arrived at school that morning.

Lottie, can you tell me who all these kids are... I don't know anyone.she said slightly desperately. People had kept bouncing up to her yesterday, introducing themselves, but Freyja had a terrible memory for names, and had been bombarded by so many that she had become very confused.

Charlotte let a smile spread across her face and she began pointing out the other students: 

With the glasses, that's Steven, (he looked like some sort of Goth, aside from his amber coloured eyes) >chew< The girl with pigtails is Cathy... >chew< And the white lump in the corner is Donar. Like the kebab. 

Freyja's eyes drifted slowly towards one of the most blond, pale boys she had ever seen. He was huge; not in that he was fat, but something about his presence was made him seem large, he was just bulky; kind of muscular. He wasn't the kind of person you'd like to meet on a dark night. Mind you, he was so pale you would probably see him coming.

There was something intriguing about him though. 

Why were girls always attracted to the strong silent types? 

Freyja didn't want to turn into a cliché, so she hurriedly copied down the lesson before the teacher erased it. She hadn't noticed that while she had been rationalising with herself, Lottie had continued to point out and name more of the inmates.

She had just finished when Lottie, after a surprisingly intensive make-up session during class, clipped her mirror shut and turned to Freyja.

Who are you wearing? 

Freyja did not fully understand the question.

Pardon?

Your clothes, what designer are they?

Uh... None. I don't know, they're just clothes. 

She was wearing a blue turtle-neck jumper and jeans. She didn't see why Lottie thought they were designer; if anything she had bought them off the end of line rack in the supermarket.

You'll never get anywhere with that attitude, Darling. >chew<. 

She blew a bubble and let it pop. Freyja decided she didn't like Lottie that much. The word Darling followed by the irritating noise of sloshing saliva and chewing sent an unpleasant shiver down her spine. She would have to make some new acquaintances. 

When the bell rang, Freyja gathered up her things and left the classroom before Lottie had a chance to put away her mirror.

Freyja sat alone, rather sulkily in English class, but glad of the peace and quiet. Lottie seemed to have got the message, and sat with the rest of her equally fashionable clique.

Freyja was soon distracted as she spent the hour taking down the notes the History teacher relentlessly dictated.

At midday, as ever, the bell rang, and the herd ran out of the classroom for feeding-time. 

Freyja trailed behind them and made her way through the steady rain to join the thronging masses in the cafeteria. After a twenty-minute wait, she found herself standing rather stupidly in the middle of the canteen holding her tray.

Lottie's table was full, so that was out of the question. There was a seat next to some rather dodgy-looking guys, but Freyja thought better of it. The only seat she would classify as vaguely safe was the one opposite Donar - coincidentally, one of the only names she had retained.

Hi! she said as brightly as she could, sitting down. 

No response.

You don't mind me sitting here, do you? she asked. 

No response. She decided to stay put.

Donar sat quietly stabbing the mushy vegetables.

A long silence ensued as Freyja chased some blackened peas around her plate. 

Do your parents punish you? he said at last, awaking from his daydream, in a thick, Nordic, yet for some reason attractive accent. 

It sounded as if the words bounced up and down rather gruffly before fully leaving his mouth. 

The sudden noise from him startled her, and she bit her tongue.

Well I thuppothe tho, if I don't get good thcoreth, then I'm not allowed to go out with my friendth. she garbled. 

Donar sighed heavily and continued stabbing what used to be a carrot so vigorously, that it's previous experience of being separated from it's family then being over-cooked looked like a walk in the park.

Do you get punished? Freyja asked. 

His piercing blue eyes darted briefly up at her and just as quickly shot back down on to his plate. He shrugged and sighed again.

Freyja decided that trying to make conversation with him was futile so she too started to scoop the greenery- or, more accurately, greyerey- She tried some of the meat, mulled over it for a while, but was unable to tell what animal it came from. Donar seemed to read her thoughts. 

Reindeer. he grunted. 

She nearly choked. 

Reindeer? Like, North Pole, Santa's sleigh reindeer ?! she stammered with a mouth half-full. 

Yeah. I've had it before.

When have you had reindeer before?

I used to have it all the time at home. 

There was a twinge to his voice, Freyja couldn't tell if it was sad or spiteful.

Where do you get reindeer? I haven't seen any around here for sale... she faltered.

She didn't know what to say, her tongue was still hurting, and she couldn't bring herself to swallow the reindeer, even if it was too late to help it now. He rolled his eyes. 

Where I come from, there is plenty.

And where do you come from?

Norway... Sweden... Scandinavia generally

Scandinavia generally?

It depends...

Depends on what?

Lots of things. 

Freyja was utterly confused and wondered if she should give up.

Where in Scandinavia? A town?

A little town... You can't have heard of it... Thrudvang. 

Indeed Freyja hadn't heard of it, but she nodded politely and decided to make an attempt at eating the yoghurt. 

Donar picked up