Chapter Twelve - The Horn is Stolen
The villagers moved out of the woods and spread out as they approached. Passing Kendra, they lifted their weapons, preparing to use them ... preparing to cut down their own children where they stood.
Anna felt a chill travelling up her spine. Somehow this was far worse than when the svartálfar alone had attacked. They at least were the enemy. This time their attackers were not just creatures they did not know. These were also their mothers and fathers, their uncles and aunts. Scenestane was not a large village and everyone knew everyone else. The adults were normally very protective of their children. At least Anna had always found it so. But today it was quite different. As the people she knew and loved moved towards them, threatening them with spear, scythe, sword and axe, their faces showed no concern. It was if the children were a strip of wheat they were coming to cut down.
The warrior dwarf had his hammer in his hand now and was raising it ready to bring it crashing down on Meccus, who was in the lead, but Anna stopped him.
“No, Gurthrunn!” she shouted, shaking her head. “We cannot fight them. Not our parents.”
“Can’t we just run?” Ellette asked, her sharp eyes searching for an escape route, but it was obvious that they would not get far before being hunted down.
“What are we going to do?” Hild cried. The villagers were surrounding them now, forming a ring around the children - a ring that was closing in upon them.
“Give me the horn,” Gurthrunn said.
“Are you sure? Last night you said ...”
“Never mind what I said. It is too late. We cannot get away. Give me the horn.”
Anna pulled the horn out of her belt and passed it to the dwarf.
He held it up high. “Stop!” he bellowed in a voice full of authority. “Here is the horn, Kendra - come and take it from me.”
“Halt!” Kendra’s equally loud command was shouted from behind the villagers. A moment later she roughly pushed her way between Nerian and Iden. Her eyes widened when she saw the horn in the dwarf’s hand. In two bounds she was in front of him.
“Please give that to me,” she said, but now her tone was no longer harsh, instead it was soft and beautiful, the voice that had charmed an entire village now being used to try to charm one dwarf.
Gurthrunn laughed. “My Lady, we made that necklace you are wearing. Do you really think I would be vulnerable to its effects? But I will give the horn to you if you will spare the lives of the children.“
Kendra studied Gurthrunn for a moment and then nodded, turning to bark out an order at the villagers. “Put away your weapons. Seize the children and this other man,” she pointed at Raedann, “but do not harm any of them. Take them to the temple and tie them up.”
Anna felt a pair of heavy hands slap down onto her shoulders and the next moment she was twisted around so quickly she felt dizzy. She looked up to see that the man holding her was none other than her own father.
“Papa - it’s me, Anna. Anna your daughter!”
Nerian did not respond. He pulled her hands together and looped some rope around them and then tugged to tighten the knot. The cord dug into her wrists and pinched her skin.
“Ouch, Father - you’re hurting me!”
Nerian looked straight into her eyes and Anna felt her heart sink. There was not even a glimmer of recognition. It was as if he did know who she was – or if he did, he did not care.
“Come,” he ordered and pulling at the rope led her towards Scenestane. Around her the other children and Raedann were also being led along. Each of them tied up, miserable, scared and bewildered. Capture was frightening enough, but it was the fact that their families, the people who normally loved and protected them, yet who were now treating them so roughly and ignoring their pleas, that really hurt and scared them.
“Father, please!” Anna tried again.
“It will do no good,” Raedann said. He was also being dragged along, the blacksmith tugging at the rope that bound him. “They are under her influence and do not know what they do. We must look for a chance to escape.”
“What is the point? She has the horn. She has won,” Lar muttered.
The villagers dragged them up the hill to the wooded glade and then pushed them into the temple. The door was slammed shut behind them and they were left in the gloomy interior. The single candle left burning on the altar their only light.
“Everyone all right?” Hild asked as they dragged themselves onto their feet.
“Sure,” said Lar, “but what do we do now?”
“Well, I do have a plan,” Raedann replied.
Anna, feeling confused, was in no mood to hear it. “Why did Gurthrunn give Kendra the horn? He didn’t even try to escape. Maybe he too is under her spell. He could have used the horn and summoned an army after all,” she said, throwing herself onto one of the benches.
“Not without harming someone from the village. That was on his mind,” Raedann answered.
“You said it yourself, Anna,” Hild reminded her. “If there had been a battle, someone would have got hurt.” The younger girl was sitting with her back against the altar, nibbling at the knot that tied her hands together.
“Most likely our own people,” Ellette commented, looking thoughtful as she examined her own bindings.
“There was another reason he did not use the horn,” Raedann said.
“What was that?” Wilburh asked.
“Because he could not.”
“What?” Anna asked.
Raedann scratched his head as if he was deciding whether or not to say something important. In the end he looked up at Anna. “It was because of you, child,” he said.
“What?” Anna’s eyes widened. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” Raedann was walking around the room now. “Earlier today Gurthrunn told me he suspected that something remarkable had happened to the horn. Like all the treasures the dwarves created for the gods, the horn has a special ability. It was designed to look for the most appropriate person to match its special powers. Thunor’s hammer would look for the strongest being to wield it; Woden’s spear for the wisest creature, and so on. The idea was that when the artefacts were given to the gods they would naturally bind with them and the pair - god and treasure - would act as one. But what neither the dwarves nor the gods seemed to predict was that the treasures, because of the way they were made, have a need to belong. It is in their very nature. They need a master or mistress to use them.”
“So?” Wilburh asked.
“Just imagine for a moment that the worst thing happened. Let’s say that - the gods forbid - your parents died and you were left alone, orphaned and with no one to look after you. In that situation what do you suppose would be your wish? What would you desire above all things?” Raedann asked, his gaze moving over each of them.
The children looked at one another, uncertain how to answer, until Ellette responded. Her usual bright voice was subdued. “I would look for someone else to look after me.”
Raedann beamed. “Ellette you are a genius!”
The little girl grinned. “I know, but no one else realises it.”
Winking at her, Raedann turned to the others. “The little elf is right. You would try to find someone else to care for you. It’s the human thing to do and, as it turns out, it’s also the way the treasures of the gods think too. Since they need to belong, they are looking for someone to own them, someone to wield them. Yet, it is not just anyone. The owner must be the right person. They must have the abilities the treasures desire. They must be,” he paused and looked at Anna, “chosen by the item.”
“Chosen? That is what the horn said when I blew it,” Anna gasped.
“Yes. Just so,” Raedann answered with a nod, and then said no more.
There was a stunned silence. Anna became aware that everyone in the dark temple was staring at her. “M-m-me?” she stuttered in a weak voice.
“Yes, Anna. The horn has chosen you. It was bonded to Heim
dall and belonged to him for the untold aeons since it was created. Then it was stolen and hidden by Kendra. It was abandoned alone in the darkness, first in the barrow for who knows how long and then in the villa for another two hundred years. It was looking for a new master or mistress: a champion; a leader of warriors in battle; a captain. Two days ago, it found her – you!”
Anna did know what to say. She just stared at the bard, dumbfounded.
“Even if what you say is true,” Lar said, “it does not explain why Gurthrunn could not use the horn, either to open the gate to Asgard or to summon an army.”
“Oh, yes it does,” Wilburh answered. “The horn is now bonded to Anna. It cannot be used by anyone else. Not unless she releases it or ...” he stumbled to a halt, turning to stare at her.
“Or what?” Anna asked dreading the answer.
“Or you are killed.”
The temple door was flung open and standing outside were four of the villagers illuminated by a torch held high by Nerian.
“You, girl - come with me,” her father said, barking out the order.
“What, why?” Barely able to speak for fear, she cringed away from the man her father had seemingly become. He seemed more like a stranger to her now than ever before.
“Kendra has asked to see you. At once!”