Rat Face and his men stopped laughing and drew their own weapons. Garm snapped his mouth shut and glared fiercely at Leonard, the muscles of his rear legs twitching.
Merlin sprang into action, and with his arms outstretched, inserted himself between Leonard and Rat Face just as they were about to step forward. “Stop! We accept the goddess Hel’s generous invitation to meet with her at her palace.”
While Garm immediately relaxed and returned to drooling, Rat Face and his men continued to fidget, and Leonard could tell they were sorely aching for a fight. So am I, for that matter.
Merlin leaned close and whispered, “Leonard, sheath your sword. We are here for a greater purpose.”
“But—”
“You know in your heart that Sir Ronald would give you the same counsel.”
Leonard glared at Rat Face for a moment, breathing through his nose with his jaw clenched tightly, before sheathing his sword and turning away.
“Shall we go?” said Merlin, brightly.
Chapter Eleven
Smoke and Mirrors
A short or long time later, they arrived at a main hall that Leonard had to admit was nothing short of spectacular. The columns, walls, and archways of the room appeared to be made out of solid ivory, but as they walked past one of the main supports, Leonard saw that it was, in fact, made out of human skulls and bones. Garm led the procession into the hall, then settled down at the foot of an empty, jewel-encrusted throne. Jewel-encrusted isn’t quite right, thought Leonard. That throne is made entirely out of gargantuan gemstones!
“Does not Garm look familiar?” said Merlin in a low voice.
“Yes, I was thinking that very thing the moment I laid eyes upon him. He closely resembles Machus the hellhound,” said Leonard, thinking of the great beast he’d befriended during the time Camelot was briefly controlled by a demon. “Garm, however, is at least twice as big as Machus, and four times as slobbery.”
Rat Face prodded Leonard in the back with his fist. “Quiet, you. In this hall you’ll only speak when spoken to.”
The procession stopped in front of the throne, and the warriors backed away, leaving Leonard and Merlin alone.
Merlin took a step closer to Leonard and whispered out of the side of his mouth, “I should have told you this earlier, but the goddess Hel and I have some history.”
Leonard’s eyes widened, and he looked at Merlin like the old man had just sprouted antlers. “What does that mean?”
Just then, a fanfare of deafening volume filled the air. Both Leonard and Merlin winced, but no one else in the room seemed bothered by it.
“You’ll see,” said Merlin when the fanfare subsided.
“All kneel for her magnificence, the goddess Hel, Empress of the Dead, Ruler of Helheim and Niflheim!” shouted a cultured voice from somewhere behind Leonard.
Everyone in the room dropped to one knee. Leonard glanced at Merlin, who nodded. Both of them dropped to their knees, too. Leonard saw Merlin briefly close his eyes and sigh, clearly indicating that he was more than a little bit apprehensive about meeting the goddess.
Then it happened. Two large doors behind the throne slowly opened, and a blindingly bright light poured into the grand hall and hit the throne of jewels, which then fractured into a thousand rays of color.
“Show off,” muttered Merlin.
Next, a huge shadow, in human form, blocked out the light as it gradually ascended what appeared to be a flight of stairs leading up to the throne platform.
“How big is this goddess?” wondered Leonard, aloud.
“Mere illusion,” sniffed Merlin. “The stuff of smoke and mirrors.”
Step by step, the shadow grew smaller until it reached the top of the stairs and was replaced by the goddess herself.
Leonard jumped when the huge doors slammed shut and cut out the light, plunging the great hall into relative darkness compared to the riotous color show that had filled it only moments before. As his eyes adjusted, Leonard’s view of Hel became clearer, and his astonishment grew.
Standing before him was easily one of the most beautiful women Leonard had ever seen. Not as beautiful as Glennys, he thought. But somewhere in the general vicinity. As beautiful as her overall appearance was, individual components of her looks had a certain “uniqueness” to them. Her skin was a mottled mixture of blue and pinkish tones, the overall pattern being similar to what might be seen on a fur seal. Her hair was raven-colored, which was familiar enough, but it had the unsettling habit of undulating back and forth even though there wasn’t a breeze in the room. Her most astonishing feature was her eyes, which managed at once to have both a dark, smoky appearance, and a bright, fiery glow to them.
“Oh my,” said Leonard, his heart skipping a beat when she glanced at him.
“Steady,” said Merlin, grasping Leonard’s arm firmly—a little too firmly.
“Ow! That hurts!” said Leonard, glaring at Merlin.
Merlin did not return the glance. “I know, it was supposed to. Keep your wits about you, Leonard—smoke and mirrors, remember?
Leonard shook his head to clear it. “Right.”
Up on the platform, Hel made her way gracefully to the throne. She sat down, and two heavily armed warriors took up positions on either side of her. She sat back, regarding Leonard and Merlin for a long moment. “Welcome back, Merlin. I see you’ve aged horribly.”
“Thank you, goddess. It’s a side-effect of the human condition. Still fond of the over-the-top theatrical entrance, I see.”
Hel shrugged. “We do what we can to keep ourselves from losing our mind in this godsforsaken land.
Merlin and Hel stared each other down for several long moments, and Leonard got the distinct feeling she was trying to decide whether she wanted to truly welcome he and Merlin, or kill them on the spot. For his part, Merlin’s expression was a pleasant smile, while Hel’s was calm, but decidedly unpleasant. The tension in the room continued to build. Leonard shot a few glances around the great hall and saw the warriors fidgeting—clenching and unclenching their weapons and giving the overall impression that they were waiting for a command of some sort from Hel. He found himself starting to worry that the command would be to attack.
After another moment, Hel broke into a broad smile and began laughing loudly in a way that sounded more like a goat bleating than recognizable human laughter. The warriors and servants in the room showed palpable relief at the sight and sound of their goddess’s laughter, and a riotous cheer went up when Hel clapped her hands, and the great hall transformed in an instant from a grand and opulent space into a warm and cozy longhouse in the style of the Norsemen. The white bone walls became warm oaken planks and pillars, and the throne was transformed from a gemstone spectacle into a simple wooden chair with an intricately carved back of stylized dragons and other magical beasts. Garm went from a monstrous hellhound twice the size of Machus, to a wolfish dog of normal size. A boar roasted on a spit in the center of the room, and frothy red ale poured endlessly from a big cask near the foot of the throne.
The most astonishing transformation was that of the goddess herself. She went from an elegant, sophisticated lady of supernatural beauty to an ordinary-looking woman of, Leonard could think of no other way to put it, simple peasant stock. The mottled blue and pinkish toned skin and the raven-colored hair was still there, but the Hel that stood before him now had the broad, but not unpleasant features of a farmer’s wife.