Divided Chapter 79

Eris had never been more terrified than she was at this moment as Menyir lifted her wrist up to his face.
“All you have to do is press your finger to this bracelet and we will be able to pass through these portals?”
“Yes,” Eris fought to steady her voice, “But if you go in there swinging, you're going to destroy what you need to build more portals. If you don't want anyone to come after you and kick your ass, you need to take the portals themselves down. The techs and scientists, especially the men named Tony Stark and Simon Foster. Simon is the man who created the portal technology, Stark built them.”
Menyir let her wrist go, “These....techs as you call them. You know who they are?”
“The people you're going to find when you enter the longhouses. They are techs. Take as many of them as you can. Remove the equipment from the longhouses then destroy the portals,” Eris sighed, feeling as though she was talking to a child, “I can't help you  because I can't come through until your boys are all in or the portal will close. Do you....do you ken?”
Menyir's smile was as cold as the ground they now stood upon, “We will do what we must to secure our safety. You will tell us what we must know when you arrive. Sulyir!”
Sulyir stepped forward, “Your Majesty.”
Menyir crooked a finger at him, bending down as he approached, “You know where my brother's family resides do you not?”
“I do. I have passed by it often on the way to market with the farmer on whose farm I stayed.”
“Then you are charged with bringing them to me.”
Sulyir stumbled back, “But what if the dark prince is with them? He will doubtless not come easily.”
Menyir dismissed Sulyir with a wave of his hand, “You will have a contingent of warriors at your command, you fool! He is one against many and he will be desperate to protect his brood.”
“And after we manage to capture them, then what?”
Menyir withdrew his sword from its sheath, “Then you will bring them to the palace in the city of Asgard for we will have taken it by then.” For emphasis, he turned to the warriors lined up waiting behind him and raised his sword to the sky, “Then will Jotunheim rule the nine realms ONCE MORE!”
A roar rose from the wasteland as Eris reached for Sulyir's hand, “Do you think they'll be able to pull this off?”
“With the casket, yes.”
A sudden thought made Eris squeeze Sulyir's hand, “Don't hurt them.”
“What?” Sulyir glanced at her.
“Loki has children, babies. I don't want them to get hurt.”
“Why do you care? You are set to take from them their father,” Sulyir snorted.
“And leave them their mother,” Eris hissed as Menyir started to turn toward them, “Promise me.”
Sulyir nodded though he didn't respond. Menyir had sheathed his sword and was now lifting the casket into his hands.
“We are ready. Open the portal!”



Tony's head bobbed to the desk once more. This time he sat back in his chair and stretched, groaning with relief. Going through the duty roster was as boring as it came but he was required to do so once a month and make changed as needed. At the end of this month, some of the techs were going home with the second group and he was going to have to fill in the gaps.
He sat forward again and began to read through the names.
“Flint, George. Fleer, Adam, Foster, Simon...”
Tony paused. He hadn't looked at the grid for some time. In all honesty, he was of Colin's mind. Simon was probably dead. He hadn't held out much hope from the beginning. The man was neurotic in the best of settings, likely he'd died of fright. He slid the duty roster toward the trash can at the side of his desk, watching as the hologram crumpled up into a glowing ball and dropped inside. He spread his hands out again over the desk, opening up a topographical map, the words “ASGARD” and “ALFHEIM” pulsing in large green letters over the landscape. He leaned forward to stare at the map, a slow smile growing on his face as he spied the red triangle he'd assigned to Simon.
“Enhance, sector one zero four.”
The triangle grew larger.
“Enhance again.”
The triangle became larger still, moving ever so slowly across the green grid and it was heading in the general direction of the city of Asgard.
“Estimate distance to Asgard city limits at present rate of speed.”
“At present rate of speed,” Jarvis's voice filled the office, “...target should reach city limits in approximately eight hours allowing for difficulty of terrain along current trajectory.”
Tony pushed away from the desk, rushing from his office into the longhouse proper, “Where's Kenworth!”
“Not on duty yet,” called one of the techs standing at the bank of computers below the portal ramp.
“Right. I'll be back,” Tony trotted for the longhouse door, “Don't open the door for strangers, honey!”


Tony hurried along the lines of tents, turning to his left near the middle of the section and stopping at a gray tent halfway down the row on the left.
“Kenworth!”
Kenworth's massive head popped out of the tent flap, eyes bleary with sleep, “Sir?”
“Get dressed. I have a job for you,” Tony pushed his head back into the tent, “I want Ardsley along too.”
“Yes, sir,” came Ardsley's muffled voice, “What.....uhn...is the assignment...”
“You're going to be the welcoming party.”



The technician watched Mister Stark out of the longhouse before he slid his lunch pack out from beneath the table and sat it before him. He'd agreed to cover the extra shift for Burns yesterday but that meant waiting until suppertime to eat. At the very least he needed a snack.
He unzipped the pack and flipped open the lid. The scent of cheese danish wafted up at him and he grinned. Stark had chosen well when he hired staff for the mess tent because he would have to eat the same food and he was very particular so the tech had been told. He took the napkin from atop the danish and set it the table next to the pack.
The shrill beep caught him off guard and he twisted about in his chair, glancing at the two other techs in the bio scan section to his rear but they were busy staring at the screen before them. Another beep and the tech swung about to stare at his own screen.
“Uh...um the portal's been activated....guys?”
“We see this Gorman....one of the bio techs called to him, “Just monitor the power output.....this can't be right...,”
Above him, the blocks had begun to hum, vibrating against the base, “I've never sat in on a portal transfer. What do I do?”
“Just what you're doing, Jesus Christ, it's an unregistered marker!”
Gorman stared at the blocks. When anyone passed from Midgard to Asgard through the portal, the first thing they would do would be to register their bracelets to them and record it in the database.
“Who the hell could it be then? Do you think it's the director?”
One of the bio techs jumped from his chair on a dead run for the longhouse doors, “I've got to find Stark. We need agents in here now.”
Gorman swiveled about to look at the remaining bio technician who was now gawping at the portal, “No one has unregistered markers. We assign every one as they arrive. The extras are locked in Stark's cabinet. Who would have an unregistered marker?”
The bio tech stood from his chair, “The only person we couldn't register was the chick who got scrambled coming through with the first group....”
Gorman turned to the portal as the cubes shot into the air...


“Mister Stark! Mister Stark!”
Tech Strainer was on a dead run toward him. He held up a hand to Kenworth and Ardsley.
“What is it? I'm sort of busy right now.”
Strainer skidded to a halt in the snowy slush, nearly falling into them, “There's been a portal activation!”
“Okay?” Stark gestured for Kenworth and Ardsley to follow him as he started up the row of tents, his eyes on Longhouse One, “That's not usually a case for widespread panic.”
“No sir,” Strainer panted, “But the marker comes up as unregistered.”
Tony's pace increased, “That's odd. Where was the source of the activation?”
“We don't know. It was off the grid...,”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, sir, the activation wasn't coming from any of the charted realms.”
A loud crackle like a massive surge of electricity rent the air, stopping them at the end of the row. Tents started to open as agents and techs emerged to stare about the encampment.
“Look!” Kenworth cried, “What is that?”
The facing wall of Longhouse one was glazing over, growing hazy as layers of ice began to build on its exterior, cracks forming in the whitewashed stones. The faint high pitched sound of screams spurred them to run.
“What the hell is going on?” Kenworth breathed.
“We have visitors,” Tony shouted as the wall to Longhouse one split with an explosive crack.


“What are you after?”
Beth slammed the kitchen drawer shut, pivoting about to face Gretten, “Oh nothing, I was just...counting.....the...silverware. Yeah, I wanted to write down how many place....”
“Beth,” Gretten put his hands on her shoulders, shifting her to the side and sliding open the drawer, “You are a poor liar.”
Beth and Gretten peered into the drawer at the ring, nestled beside the knives, its soft blue gray light illuminating their faces.
“I was going to ask you where it was but I knew you'd tell me come time,” Gretten picked the ring up, “You should not take it off your finger. It is too valuable.”
“But Gretten, look at it, they'll ask what's wrong and what am I going to do? Tell them what that crazy fortune teller told me? It's been getting brighter for the past week, what do you think it means?”
Gretten had opened his mouth to answer when a faint rumble shook the heavy glass panes of the window above their heads.
“Did you hear that?” Beth stretched up on tiptoe to gaze out over the snow covered fields.
Gretten threw open the kitchen door, “'Tis not the season for storms. The sky is clear.”
Beth joined him and they searched the horizon until Beth grabbed him by the arm and pointed at a plume of dark smoke rising into the air, “What's that?”
“A fire somewhere, I suspect. Come on inside. The mild weather has dispersed till planting time.”


“Mother, this is woman's work!” Fen whined as he folded the sheet over the coverlet.
“Well Ingrid is busy with the little ones, your sister is still on Midgard and my back pains me so I needed your help which I do so appreciate, Fenris.”
“Mother! I hate being called by my full name!” Fen snatched the pillows from the dressing table chair, tossing them on the bed.
“So you do, yet you call me “Mother” upon propriety even in our home therefore I shall continue to address you accordingly,” Eidra shot him a beatific smile as he leaned over the bed burying his face in the coverlet.
“But I am a man. Mama is a word for infants to babble.”
“And I have beseeched you to call me so if only here in our house because you will be forever my baby boy. Is this too much to ask?” she set the pillows in their place at the headboard.
“Mmmmm, Father will chide me if he hears,” came his muffled answer.
“I will take care of your father, of that you may be certain,” she patted the top of his head.
“Yes, Mama,” Fen stood up, his face pink, a shy grin on his face and Eidra was once more aware how handsome he'd grown, the very image of his father.
“Ah, it sits so much softer upon my ear. Tell me, upon your travels to the palace with Papa, have you seen Lisle or has your ardor cooled with the winter snow?”
“I have seen her a handful of times,” Fen looked away, his cheeks growing darker, “She tells me she will ask her father to have me to their cottage for the evening meal soon.......Mama?”
Eidra smoothed the coverlet down, “Yes, my love?”
“Look.”
“Fen was at the window. Eidra moved to join him and they stood looking out over the dormant snow covered fields, past the distant tree line to a dark smoke plume rising into the sky.
“Fire?”
Eidra took her sleeve, wiping the condensation from the glass to clear it, willing her eyes to focus. Near the column of smoke she saw flames flicker above the tree tops then movement. She pressed her nose to the glass.
“Mama? Mother....what do you see?”
She watched, waited, standing back from the glass, her hand melting a print into the frost outside the window.
“What is it?”
Eidra turned to him, “I do not know. Perhaps a fire in Cole. We will ask your father when he comes home tonight. Now be a dear and see how Helgi is doing. I will be along in a moment.”
“Yes, Mama,” Fen whirled about, wrapping his arms about her neck in an unexpected hug before he raced from the bedchamber.
When he was out of the room, Eidra returned to the window, her fingers brushing the lump at her thigh. Every morning, as she'd been taught by Loki, she strapped to her leg the holster which held her dagger. As the top of a dark haired head glided along the treetops, she gripped the hilt. At last, she took a deep breath, reset her smile, the most direct route to the cold cellar below the manor mapped into her head as she headed out into the corridor.



Sulyir stared down the lane to the manor at the end, lazy tendrils of smoke rising from the chimneys, snow on the roof glittering in the sunlight.
“What do we wait for?”
Sulyir held up his hand, “We wait for me, Hobnir. I am going to reason with the lady of the house. Perhaps she will come willingly.”
Hobnir slammed his pike into the frozen slush of the road, “And perhaps you have spent too much time in this realm of weaklings.”
Sulyir pivoted about, his teeth bared though he knew his aggression must seem laughable in his present form, “I promised Eris I would try to persuade the family to surrender peaceably and that is what I shall do!”
Hobnir smiled then though there was no mirth in it, “....taking orders from a Midgardian as well? Pitiful.”
Sulyir faced the manor again, “Until my signal, you are not to approach the house.”
Hearing no reply in the negative, Sulyir started up the long lane.



At the knock on the door, Eidra, glanced up from her sewing, her heart fluttering like a sparrow's wings as Helgi's knitting needles slowed. Before the sitting room fire sat Astrid and Edie playing with the carved Noah's ark, their favorite toy, Cait in Eidra's chair with her baby rag doll. Brynn was cuddled up between Helgi and Eidra on the divan, dozing, tired from a night spent upright, wheezing.
Fen was sitting in Loki's chair, a book in his hand half closed as he peered around the chair back into the foyer where Hal was opening the door.

“May I help you?”
Sulyir peeked behind Hal into the foyer, “Ah, I would speak to the woman of the home. I come to her with urgent news.”
“Whom may I say is calling?” Hal gazed imperiously at him.
“A friend.”
A condescending smile broke out upon Hal's face, “The Lady Eidra has many friends. I must know your name if I am to properly introduce you.”
With a growl, Sulyir shoved Hal aside, striding into the foyer, scanning the large room, the stairs leading to the second floor.
“I BEG your pardon!” Hal cried, taking hold of Sulyir's arm, “How dare you enter this home without invitation!”
Sulyir yanked his arm from Hal's grasp, drew back with a fist and was halted in mid punch at a voice behind him.
“I would ask you not to strike my staff. Hal, thank you. I shall speak to our guest. Will you please take Fen to the cold cellar and empty the tall cabinet as I requested?”
“Milady?”
“Please, I will be fine. Do as I asked.”


Hal hurried out of the foyer into the sitting room crooking a finger at Fen as he passed on his way through to the kitchen. Fen jumped from the chair, trotting to catch up with him, “Who is at the door? Where are we going?”
“Into the cold cellar. Your mother requested we empty the tall cabinet.”
Hal pushed open the door to the kitchen, startling Beth and Gretten who were standing together before the large fireplace.
“Goodness gracious!” Beth exclaimed, staring at them, “What is going on?”
“We have a visitor,” Hal knelt to the floor at an iron ring beside the stone sink, “Gretten will you come with us....blaaast this heavy door! We need your help.”
“Help with what?” Gretten lifted the door for Hal, leaning it against the wall.
Fen held a finger to his lips, “Mother told us to empty Father's weapon cabinet.”
At once, Gretten's face grew hard. He shuffled Hal to the side, descending into the dark cold cellar, his voice echoing up to them, “I'll hand things up to you. Be ready.”



Sulyir tilted to the side where three small pairs of eyes watched him from before the sitting room fire.
“What is your name, good sir?” Eidra slid sideways to block his view.
“Sulyir.”
Eidra wrinkled her nose, “Is that not a Jotunn name?”
“It is,” Sulyir bowed slightly, “And in that light, I come here to beg your indulgence. You must come with us to the palace.”
“Us?” Eidra looked about the foyer, “You are alone, are you not?”
“There are others with me waiting at the road into the city. I have come to plead with you. My brethren stand ready to transport you to the city. Ready your wagon and come with us.”
“Are you from Muspelheim?”
“What? NO! I am from Jotunheim!” Sulyir shouted, “Think you they would venture into this frozen land, forsaking their sweltering valleys? We have the casket and our numbers now march to the city, to the palace where you too must go. Our warriors are more given to drag you from this house but I alone hold them at bay. Please say I might go to them and tell them you will leave without trouble!”
Eidra slipped her hand into the right pocket of her dress, through the slit, wrapping her fingers about the hilt of her dagger, “I fear you must return to your warriors unsuccessful for I will not step foot from this house. My family is here...”
“And will not be safe!” Sulyir grabbed for her arm, stepping back as she withdrew the dagger, brandishing it at him, “You fool, you foolish woman! Menyir will throw the countryside of Asgard into endless winter with the casket and you will freeze to death, do you not ken? Your family will die if they stay here!”
Eidra regarded him though she kept the dagger weaving about between them, “If we go with you, how can you assure our safety?”
“The warriors are at my comm.....”
With an ear rending crack, the front door splintered inward, taking a chunk of fieldstone out of the wall above where it had been.
“NOOO!” Sulyir turned about, hands in the air as Hobnir ducked inside to stand, his sword drawn.
At Eidra's scream, Hal and Fen raced into the foyer, Hal rushing at Hobnir with a roar, a heavy sword held up in front of him with both hands, “Get out! Out of this house you troll!! How dare you burst in here like this!”
With a laugh, Hobnir swung his forearm to the side, catching Hal across the side of the head, knocking him against the wall below the upper balcony where he crumpled to the floor and lay still.
All at once, the house was chaos, the children screaming in the sitting room, Helgi calling for them to come to her while Eidra ran to Fen as more warriors crowded into the foyer.
“I told you I would bring her out!” Sulyir screeched, “Idiots! Foolish idiots!”
“We have no time to wait for your negotiations,” Hobnir laughed, gesturing to Eidra who was struggling to stop Fen from raising the crossbow, “Woman you will come with us or we will cut your family down.”
“Fen, please,” Eidra cried, “Please, listen to them!”
She could feel her firstborn son's heart hammering beneath her fingers, his eyes hard flint, face red with rage, “Fen!”
Time stopped, pivoting on his decision but at last he gave way, his body mirroring his defeat, his shoulders slumping as he lowered the crossbow to the floor.
“Eidra!!” came Helgi's cry from the sitting room, “Come quick!”
Eidra started from the foyer only to be grabbed by the arm by one of the warriors at a nod from Hobnir.
“You are to come with us, now!”
“Eidra! It is Brynn!” Gretten appeared in the archway, a sword in his hand, “He needs his medicine with all haste!”
“Let me go!” Eidra flung herself forward, pulling the warrior off balance as she fell to her knees, “We will do as you say only let me care for my son!”
“Hobnir! LET HER GO!” Sulyir roared, “Or Menyir will hear of your refusal to listen to my orders!”
With a scowl, Hobnir waved his hand at the warrior. As soon as he released her arm, Gretten lifted Eidra to her feet rushing her into the sitting room where Brynn sat on the divan struggling for each breath. Behind the divan stood Ingrid, hands clapped across her mouth in terror as if stifling a permanent scream while Helgi stroked Brynn's clenched fist, cooing softly to him. Eidra dropped to the  floor before him, patting the pocket of her dress wildly searching for the little green inhaler, lifting it out, fumbling it into his lap before finally putting it to his lips. He opened his mouth and she depressed the canister, watching his face relax for a moment.
“There my brave man,” Eidra murmured, “Be not afraid. You are well.”
Beth rushed from the kitchen, a hot mug in her hand, “His tea. Maybe it'll help?”
Eidra took the mug from Beth with a grateful smile and held it up to him but he simply sat there slumped against Helgi, eyes wide as he fought for each breath.
“We waste too much time!” Hobnir called into the sitting room, bending forward to clear the archway, “We must leave!”
At the sight of Hobnir, Ingrid stumbled backward into Beth with a scream, her hand searching blindly for Edie who had run to her, cowering into the folds of her skirt. Gretten stepped forward, his sword at the ready.
“The young prince is sick, do you not see this? We will leave when we can and no sooner.”
Upon instinct, Eidra covered Brynn's trembling body with her own, “Let me help my boy!”
“Eidra!” Beth bent down, “I think he's going into shock!”
Eidra sat back on her heels, Brynn's eyes had taken on a dull quality, his breathing shallowed, lips taking on an alarming blue tint.
“Brynn? BRYNN?” Eidra wailed, bringing the inhaler up to his mouth again, “Come on, open up, baby, please?!”
All at once, Brynn sat forward, vomiting down the front of his tunic, a weak dribble which ended as he began a violent shudder, his eyes rolling back beneath his lids, his body stiffening under Eidra's hands.
“Let my son ride to the longhouses!” Eidra turned to Hobnir, “The physician can help my boy! Please, I beg you!”
“The man-child could ride but he would find no one there. The Midgardians have been removed from the camp to march to the city,” Hobnir shook his head, “Their longhouses are under our control as the city shall soon be.”
Eidra's face fell, “Then we must hurry to the palace. My son is very sick,”
Eidra rose to her feet and bent down ready to gather Brynn in her arms until Helgi cried, “Gods help us! He has stopped breathing!”
Beth scrambled around the couch, pulling the boy to the floor, knowing before she wiped his mouth clean and pressed her mouth to his, that it was too late. She breathed into his lungs once, twice, watching his chest stay flat. Her eyes brimming with tears, she put her hands over the boy's sternum and began compressions, counting to herself.
“What are you doing?!” Eidra yanked at her arm, nearly collapsing her on top of Brynn. She yanked herself free with a bellow.
“I'm...one-one thousand... trying to save..two-one thousand... his life!...three-one thousand.. He's not getting any air!”
She kept up the compressions to a count of thirty and dropped back down to breath into the boy's mouth willing his chest to rise but it was useless. She sat back, tears rolling down her face, a hand to her stomach as she felt the baby flutter about, “I'm so sorry, so goddamn sorry, Eidra.”
A high keen rent the air of the sitting room as Eidra pulled Brynn's body into her lap and began to rock with him as the room erupted, Astrid running to Eidra, shaking Brynn's lifeless hand.
“Wake him up, Mama! Wake him up!”
Ingrid held her apron to her face, grief twisting her features as she gathered Edie to her waist.
“You did this!” Fen screeched at Sulyir who had entered the room behind Hobnir, “You frightened my brother to death! You killed him as surely as if you had stabbed him with your sword!” He advanced toward Sulyir but a couple steps before Gretten's arm wrapped around his throat.
“And you will kill your mother if you follow him. Stop this, go to her!”
As if a light had shown into his mind, he dropped the sword, turned and knelt beside Eidra, enfolding her in his arms, holding her as she sobbed, her cheek pressed to Brynn's.
“You!” Hobnir pointed to Gretten, “Gather the others outside. We must go.”
“You are all of you dogs! Can you not afford the lady of the house time to mourn!” Gretten cried walking to Hobnir, peering up at him, ignoring Beth's hissed warning to return to the group.
“She has the rest of her life to mourn. It is our time which grows short. Now do as I say dwarf or I will use you as target practice!”
“We cannot go on foot,” Gretten pointed behind Hobnir at the snow swirling into the foyr through the broken door, “It is deep into winter!”
“What care I?” Hobnir drew himself up to his full height, his head nearly grazing the ceiling as the other warriors laughed, “My people have lived like this for millenia.”
“If you let your prisoners freeze to death, what will happen to you?” Gretten sneered, pleased at the momentary confusion on Hobnir's face.
“Hook up a wagon,” Sulyir glared at Hobnir as he nodded to Gretten, “We will prepare the household to leave.”


A light snow had started to fall as Gretten and Ingrid lifted Eidra into the back of the wagon, tenderly placing Brynn's body, wrapped in a woolen blanket, into her arms.
“Perhaps we should bring another blanket to cover him,” Eidra whispered, her voice hoarse, “He suffers so from the cold.”
Fen reached up into the wagon, his voice cracking as he patted her boot, “I will fetch one, Mama.”
He hurried inside through the broken door, stopping to stare at Hal's body, dusted with snow, before he sprinted up the stairs to his parents bedchamber, grabbing an armful of coverlets from atop the trunk at the end of the bed.
At the bottom of the stairs, he laid one blanket over Hal, “Thank you for your bravery, your loyalty,” he closed his eyes, “May you sit beside the Allfather in Valhalla.”
When he stepped outside, he surveyed his family, sitting, broken, in the back of the wagon. Helgi, her arm about his mother as she lay her head on Helgi's shoulder, Brynn in her lap. Astrid, Cait and Edie piled around Ingrid, holding her with a grip forged in iron. Beth and Gretten side by side, holding hands, Beth's face red, eyes swollen from crying. If ever he had missed his older sister before, he wanted Brenna home so badly he could scarce think of it but tears sprung to his eyes. Father was at the palace with Colin and no one knew what they would find when they arrived. Would the city be at war? Would the palace be taken? He was frightened, moreso than he'd ever been in his young life.