Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 36

Chapter 36



Snorri scanned the expanse of the great hall. It was the first time he’d ever been in the presence of the Thanes before, and pride filled his body like an overflowing goblet as he stood at his great table. Down the length, faces of unfamiliar Ymirjar sat in great gilded seats, with plates piled with meats and vegetables. They forked hefty mouthfuls of venison, potatoes, and carrots as though it would be their last meal. He too, had done the same, for it was the first time he’d ever tasted such wonderful meat. Though he spent quite a good portion of his life cooking it, it was forbidden to eat. Those times were no more, and his people looked upon him as more than a humble cook. They looked to him as though he were their savior.

The deafening roar of drunken voices filled the hall, and echoed in his ears. Though it was as loud as he’d ever heard, he didn’t mind, for he was among the most important men of the land.

Wine and mead flowed constantly as servants refilled brass cups and goblets. Men drank and drank until they were full. Snorri had tasted it, and the bitterness still remained on his lips. No more would he ever drink it. He contented himself with water.

Great stone pillars rose from the floor to the domed ceiling that was higher than a tree. Upon their surface, torches burned bright and illuminated the same carvings he’d seen that day. Vines rose and intertwined with one another around the columns in a helix. They were identical to that of his sword that hung at his side. Above him, the ribs of the ceiling were as great tree branches that gnarled this way and that. Portraits of eagles and great birds he did not recognize soared above mountains and lakes, while others perched upon the high branches of tall trees. He felt as though he were dining in the wilds. Stuffed wolves and bears stood resolute on stone pedestals along the walls. Each one roared or howled at him as though they were calling to the new alpha.

Moonlight pierced through the high arched windows of the hall. It shined in pale white shafts and bathed each table in its soft brilliance. Beneath him, marble glistened in the moonlight like a sea of diamonds.

Behind him, a golden throne sat before a great fireplace. It was twice as tall as any man he’d ever seen, and shimmered in the firelight like the distant stars. Two gilded trees rose from gnarled roots to the arms that rested upon their boughs. The back of the throne was not but clusters of the leaves of an ash tree. Each leaf was as detailed as the last, and rose from floor to its sharp peak, atop which two wolves howled with their heads high. Behind them, dark stone parted for a great marble circle that resembled the moon, it hovered just above the fireplace which of itself was as equally beautiful.

A long scarlet rug stretched from the throne through the alley between tables, to a great arch that stood between his own table, and the Jarl’s. Beyond the iron braced doors, the king was making his way to the hall. He was certain of it.

Mimir sat at the right of him. Sven and Leif sat opposite. All three were buried in the food that they prepared earlier that day. It felt magnificent to be with them in such a place, for their time in the kitchen was over. They were lords now. The three of them were dressed in similar clothes as he. He’d managed to find matching outfits at the clothier he visited earlier that day. After much laughter, the old Norsemid assisted him with his attire, and he now did not look like a haphazard array of belts and buckles, but a lord of men. He, along with his three friends, were the only Ymirjar that appeared so fortunate. The rest of his people wore the same fashion he had grown so accustomed to. Dirty shirts, with dirtier trousers hung off of frail bodies like torn and tattered banners.

It was a shame that none of them had any other clothes to wear, but he would change that. He was now their representative, and he would see to it, that they were treated as fair as he.

Men silenced as Jarl Loki, who’d previously taken his leave, stepped through the heavy doors. He stood tall and proud, and his eyes scanned the throng of men before resting upon him. Snorri bowed his head to him and smiled. The Jarl nodded his own greeting, and cupped his hands to his mouth.

“I present to you, your king!” His voice boomed through the great hall, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

Loki stepped to the side, while granting the king his own greeting and applause.

The man was the most brilliant he’d ever seen. He stood tall and straight as he walked toward him. He paused at each table and exchanged greetings with Thanes before continuing on. A long, scarlet cape hung from his shoulders and dragged on the floor as he walked. Atop his head, a golden crown of equal appearance to the back of the throne rested. Red gems emblazoned the gold, and it shimmered in the firelight. White hair hung straight, and cascaded from beneath the crown down below his shoulders. His beard was braided and woven like the carvings upon the great pillars. Wrinkles sliced through his face as though he’d lived for a century, but his eyes said different. Two fiery emeralds glistened like the spark of overwhelming youth, and they were focused on him. Snorri shrinked in his spot as he applauded the man, unable to look away.

The king stopped at his table, and eyed him up and down. He smiled at him and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Welcome, Master Snorri. Jarl Loki has told me much about you. I look forward to hearing his proposal.” His voice was powerful and deep. A slight rasp carried with its low melody as he spoke.

“Thank you, your majesty.” He bowed as low as he could without falling over. The gold medallion that hung from his neck nearly touched the floor, before he rose once more.

Hjalmar nodded to him and continued to his throne.

The applause slowed to a crackle of hands before dying out altogether. Loki raised his hands to the crowd, and men fell silent as they looked upon him.
“Thanes of Xalimfal, this marks the first millennium of this council!”

The crowd again erupted in roaring cheers and applause, but he soon waved for silence.

“For one thousand years our ancestors have graced this same hall at the turn of each season.” He paused and scanned the crowd. “Each council has reshaped our land, and brought forth the youngest and eldest of us together as one. Though we have disagreements amongst ourselves, we are and forever will be one sovereignty!”

Men shouted in agreement, and raised their goblets high to him.

“As you know, His Majesty, King Hjalmar as well as the Tribunal have done all they can to ensure that we share in the creation of our laws, which is why I stand before you today.”

Men nodded and spoke softly amongst themselves. Loki allowed them to continue until they were silent.

“We all know that the winter has brought with it starvation and sickness. Throughout the provinces and districts, our people grow hungry and weak. Food has grown scarce, and the threat of the Dwergar is forever at our doors.”

Everyone nodded their agreement. Snorri was puzzled by the statement. He’d never seen a scarcity of food, for he cooked mountains of it on a daily basis. The three that sat with him shared equal looks of confusion, but they were silent as they listened.

“It is that reason that I make the first proposal, with His Majesty’s permission.” He turned to face the king, and Hjalmar nodded to him. Loki again turned to the crowd. “We can no longer rely on trade with our neighbors. Food supplies grow short, and what supplies they send, come less frequent. We must rely on ourselves. We are strong, but without food, we are as weak as children. I propose that all farms and huntsmen send their food to the Tribunal. Each man will be paid for their contributions. From their we shall distribute the food amongst the populace in equal share for lower cost. We know that the lands of the south grow ever more dangerous with the Dwergar raids, and we know how difficult the farming is there. It is time we helped our own.”

A tall man in the back of the room stood from his seat and slammed his goblet onto the table. “I second the proposal!” His eyes scanned the room as he stood.

A wave of men from the same table stood in unison and shouted their agreement.

Loki turned once more to the king.

Hjalmar rose from his throne and raised his hands. The crowd fell silent. “It shall be that with the coming of the spring, all food shall be sent to the Tribunal.”
Men lifted their goblets and cheered. Applause erupted from the crowd as the King returned to his seat.

The Jarl lifted his hand, and the roar faded.

“The turn of the millennium brings with it the dawn of a new future. We have grown strong as a nation, but there is much that remains to be done. There are provinces that are yet unclaimed, and much to be had from their lands. There is fertile soil and rich forests with animals that shall offer us a higher supply of food. There are mountains to be mined, and wealth to be dug from within their stone. With His Majesty’s permission I’d like to make the second proposal.”

The king nodded to him once more.

“Thanes of Xalimfal, we are strong and proud. We fight with one another, but together we have accomplished much. That time is unfortunately no longer ours.”

Whispers burst through the silence as men shook their heads. Others shouted their disagreement.

“We need help. Though trades with Tarkan have slowed, it is time we opened our eyes to new opportunities and new alliances.” He turned and faced him. “That is why I have appointed a new representative of our newest ally, the Ymirjar.”

Quakes jittered through his limbs as eyes fell upon him. Men whispered, and others openly shouted insults.

Loki silenced them. “Thanes of Xalimfal, look at them!” He motioned towards his table. “They are small, but are they not strong? Are they not skilled? They have labored for us since the days of old, never asking for payment, never demanding more. They have built walls, and tilled farms. They have thatched roofs, and mined the hardest stone. They are our new hope.”

Men turned this way and that as they whispered to one another.

“It is with His Majesty’s permission, that they be granted a new nation. The Tribunal has convened and agreed to offer them the northern islands of Nidavellir. There they will shape for us, a new future. Trade will prosper with our new ally, and forge the road to a new power. All can share in the wealth, what this land lacks, they can give, and what they lack, we can give.”

Those at his own table gasped. Faces beamed and brightened like the morning sun as they heard the words. The Ymirjar were slaves no longer, but a free people with their own lands! He’d never dreamed in all his years that such a thing would happen, and now they stood not as slaves, but as a nation, and he was their lord.

Roars erupted from the crowd as men argued back and forth. Voices rose to grumbling shouts, and fingers pointed in every direction. Chairs overturned as men stood yelling insults back and forth, while others shoved one another. Chaos had spilled forth into the great hall, but Loki and the King stood silent as they watched arguments spread like wildfire. Goblets were slapped aside, and spilled crimson wines, and frothy meads over the tables. It splattered on men that sat shouting.

Voices rose at his own table, as Ymirjar discussed building, farming, and mining back and forth. Others spoke of riches and wealth, and others still did little more than weep tears of joy. They had been recognized as people, and after a lifetime of brutal discipline and labor, their struggles had finally gave rise to a new life. Prosperity was the topic of his table, while his three friends toasted their drinks to him as though he were their hero. Hands slapped him on the back, and both smiles and glares were shared with him. A lump grew in his throat as he struggled to swallow. He sipped his water, and offered his table a smile and nod. If he was now a lord, surely he could partake in the council. His hands shook, and his body felt as though it were made of lead.

Snorri rose from his seat, and the crowd fell silent. He drew a deep breath as he turned to the king. “I second the motion.”

Laughter burst through the halls, but it was soon drowned once again, by more arguments. It continued for close to an hour, as men shouted agreements to the proposal, and others rejected it as though it were a disease. As the voices finally faded, and the crowd calmed to a humming whisper, eyes fell upon King Hjalmar. His attention remained focused on Snorri. His brow was creased and his head rested in his hand as he leaned upon the armrest of his throne.

It was a silence like no other. The crawling of ants would have been an uproar in the great hall. Snorri wiped beads of sweat from his brow with a shaky hand.

The crowd gasped, and fists clenched tight as the King stood from his throne.