Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 35

Chapter 35



Loki stared in silence as men of the Tribunal poured through the great wooden doors. The east halls stood beyond their sanctuary, and though the ruckus of the men was loud, he dare not speak until the doors were closed. It was not at all an ideal place for their organization. The east halls were a particularly busy area of the castle, and most of the King’s administration made its home there. The Tribunal was no exception, though it was its own entity separate from the King, it was his laws that influenced their decisions, and therefore it was his. That is what the Jarl hoped the King thought.

Hjalmar was an arrogant and greedy ruler. If it was in Xalimfal, it belonged to him and that is the way it was. Loki on the other hand, disagreed with much of his philosophy of leadership. The laws of old were written by primitive minds, and interpreted exactly as they were written. He felt that such a method of enforcement was against everything the crown stood for. Kings were not meant to own every drop of water, every scrap of food, every rock, tree, and person of the lands, but to bring order to chaos. Men themselves required leadership, or they would consume themselves. It was the nature of things, and he could not change that. What he could change, was the application of law.

The land rightfully belonged to the people, not the King. It was not his country but theirs. He was merely the one that kept them in check from themselves. Hjalmar had done a poor job at such things, for to honor the laws of old was to ignite fires that would consume their home. Land was the possession of the earth, and greedy Thanes and Warlords feuded over it for centuries. There was little to be had from another patch of grass, but it was ever the driving motivations of those that held power. The King did little to interfere with the feuds. It was his thoughts that if they fought for it, and won, it was theirs, but it still belonged to him. Those that earned it through warfare were merely caretakers.

Those laws had contributed to the way they were as a people. He’d seen the advancements of the west. If time had been better spent in research and knowledge, they could be as equal or more powerful than their neighbors. Knowledge was by far the most powerful weapon in any arsenal. With it came change. With change, came advancements in weapons and development of society. That is what he desired. Xalimfal had ever been a society in and of itself. What little relations it had with the world were spent on the favor of Tarkan. Though their trade was useful, it was not at all vital. Though they did not understand the ways of refining black powder, he was certain they could discover such methods.

More useful relations were to be had with lands further west. He’d seen their weapons, and that is what he desired. Not to claim lands for himself but for his people. The western world had promised him what was rightfully theirs. He’d seen what they could do, and though sorcery was quite a dark and wicked method of achieving goals, it was all he had. Asgard would be theirs once more.

There were over a dozen men that made up the Tribunal. Each of them knew one another well, for they were all of the same blood. The Aesir clan filled the room, and each stood at gilded chairs. Scarlet cushions woven with gold vines and thorns rested on the backs of each chair. It was their coat of arms; the emblem of Yggdrasil – the tree of the world. It was the Aesir clan’s birthright, for the land of Asgard rested upon the branches of the great tree as it was told in the Gylfaginning. Other lands rested on other branches, but they were realms that Loki dare not delve into. The book spoke of many nightmarish beasts, and though he’d never seen them, he did not disbelieve it. For he’d seen the truth, and he knew the Gylfaginning was more than myth.

Each man adorned himself in gem clad gold and silver. The tree grew upon the roots of the world in each emblem that was stamped in their signets. They dressed themselves in the furs of exotic creatures that he knew not the name of. Black stripes webbed in intricate patterns across a sea of blazing orange that was as bright as flames. Gem studded armor glistened in the firelight, and cascaded dancing light about the high domed ceiling and upon stone columns that were as ribs along the walls.

As the last of the men entered and shut the doors behind him, Loki slammed the book on the table. Eyes stared down at the book and back to him as men hurried to their seats. “This, dear brothers, is our history.”

“The Gylfaginning.” The man closest to him said in monotone as he raised his brow at him. It was his brother, Rolf. Though equal in size, Rolf’s hair and beard burned as red flames against his own black hair. It was the only feature which set them apart.

Loki nodded. “Our future lies in the past.”

Men laughed all about the table, and he slammed his fist into the wood. They fell silent. “This is no myth of our beginnings. This is our guide to what is rightfully ours.”

“Loki, have you gone mad?” His brother, Bulwyf stared fire into him.

He smiled at him. “You know of our rightful claim dear brother. You know who we are.”

The man nodded. “Indeed I do, but this is not the time to follow fairy tales, Jarl. It is time to take action. That illegitimate ruler threatens our future, and you would rather spend time reading false stories of our past.”

Loki nodded. “The King is another matter. He will be dealt with tonight at the council. I’ve called this meeting for another reason.”

Whispers echoed throughout the room, but were silenced as he raised his hand. “We are not but a fortnight from the equinox. We will soon have our lands returned to us.”

“Loki, do you speak of Asgard?” Rolf looked at him in shock.

He nodded.

Loki knew it was hard for them to believe. The Gylfaginning, though a holy book, was taken as little more than stories written by a very imaginative mind. He’d seen the history of his ancestors, and he knew it was more than stories. It was all true.

“We are the Aesir, brothers. We are the first clan to walk this land. The throne belongs to us, as does our land.”

Men shook their heads at him as though they took him for a fool. He knew they would, for believing in such things was quite frowned upon by the King. Xalimfal was a nation of laws, not religious commands or edicts, but he never stopped believing. Now, it had been proven to him.

“Do you know of the story?” He asked as he stood from his seat.

None answered.

“I shall tell you.” He walked around the table and offered equally long stares to each of the men. “The lands of Xalimfal are not our home, they were our refuge. The Norsemid came to this place during the first Ragnarok.”

Men whispered among themselves as he spoke. He allowed them to absorb the tale. Ragnarok was a serious matter of discussion. It was the end of all things old, and the beginning of new eras. More than that, it was the beginning of Xalimfal. Ragnarok was the great battle that the Gylfaginning spoke of. It was the fall of Kings and Gods alike. Though religion was not at all practiced in Xalimfal, men still feared Ragnarok, for it was an inevitable outcome of humans to destroy themselves.

“We came from Asgard. Tyr dwelled in the lands of Asgard, and Odynn gave to him a great gift – a book. The Tome of Norns. Tyr opened it against his wishes, and learned of all things that were, things that are, and what is to come. In the pages, he learned of our creation.” He cleared his throat and continued. “The gods did not like this, brothers. They attacked Tyr, but they could not harm him, for he had a weapon of great power; the lodestone.”
He pulled the chunk of metal from his pocket and tossed it on the table. It rang in high pitch as it rolled to a stop in the center. The men stared at the metal in silence.

“This is lodestone. The name of old is Orichalcum.”

Men gasped in astonishment and rose from their seats to see the metal. “You have Orichalcum?” Bulwyf turned to him in surprise.

“I do. This is more than simple ore. This is the power of all things. This is life and death. This metal is what started Ragnarok. The lodestone held the gods at bay, and Tyr used his gift to create his own world. Annwvyn. The gods feared this gift, and locked Annwvyn from the rest of the world with the creation of great clockworks. Asgard fell into the sea as it was told, but that is not true. Asgard was claimed by Annwvyn, its Orichalcum was forever locked away in the underworld.”

“How did you come across it?”

Loki smiled. “You will learn when it is time. The Equinox is nearly upon us, dear brothers. It marks the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. It is the day that spirits gather in the underworld, and the day that Orichalcum forms. With this, we can bring Asgard back from the void. We can reclaim our lands, and our throne. We will reshape the earth, and end the warfare between the Dwergar, and among the clans. We will hold the power of the world, and nations will bow to us. Do you stand with me?”

The men whispered among themselves for some time. Rolf stamped his hand into the table. “I will stand with you, Jarl.”

The rest repeated the statement in unison.

The time of the King was coming to an end. The Aesir would have their throne back, and soon, the Norsemid would no longer be the recluse of the world, but the juggernaut. They would be the supreme power, and their people would prosper.

He bowed his head. “Tonight, dear brothers, we take the throne. On the eve of the equinox, we take Asgard from the dead.”