Norns be able to see this danger coming? Why do we have to warn anyone?>
Clearly Ratatosk could not think and run at the same time. This danger comes from outside Asgard , I explained, then spun him a lie. The danger comes from the Romans. The Roman Fates, the Parcae, have sent Bacchus and his pards to slay the Norns, knowing that the Norns will not be able to see him coming .
Ratatosk leapt forward again but then halted abruptly after a few steps, as another thought locked down his motor functions.
Damn inquisitive squirrel. He found out from the King of the Dark Elves. The entire evil plot was hatched in their, uh, evil minds . When in doubt, blame the dark elves.
Ratatosk said knowingly. I got the sense that he thought the dark elves could keep secrets from Odin if anyone could.
The Dwarf King believes he may already be on his way. Time is of the essence. Let your haste commend your duty, Ratatosk .
Reassured and reinvigorated, Ratatosk leapt up the root of Yggdrasil even faster than before.
It is said that heroes have shat kine at the very sight of him. He drives men to madness. But I do not know how he would fare against the Norns. The danger is in the surprise he represents. If the Norns cannot see him coming, then he may be able to catch them unprepared. Their best defense will be my warning, and with your help all the gods of Asgard will have time to prepare a proper welcome for the upstart Roman .
Ratatosk said with delicious anticipation.
His euphemism startled me, until I remembered that I was talking to a squirrel; I confirmed through the images and emotions in our mental bond that he was using the expression to mean the defeat of an enemy, nothing more.
I affirmed his thoughts and then fell silent as I considered the very real possibilities behind my lies. The Norns would be waiting by the trunk of Yggdrasil as we ascended to Asgard. I was certain they’d not know that it was I who was coming—not because I was a god like Bacchus from a different pantheon, but because my amulet protected me from divination—yet they’d probably know Ratatosk would be bringing someone or something with him at this particular time. They’d be curious at the very least, paranoid at the worst, and if the latter was true they might have planned something unpleasant. They might even send someone down the trunk to see who was riding on Ratatosk. As soon as I thought of it, I cast camouflage on myself, my clothes, and my sword as a precautionary measure. The Norse shouldn’t be able to penetrate it, if the mythology was to be believed; they were continually fooling one another in the Eddas with basic disguises, much less magical ones.
We still had a decently long trek ahead of us, which suggested to me it was an ideal time for a fishing expedition. I told Ratatosk that my creator, Eikinskjaldi, had given me only basic knowledge of Asgard. Would he be so kind as to fill in some gaps in my information? The squirrel was agreeable, so I peppered him with questions from the old myths: Was Loki still bound with his own son’s entrails? Yes. Was the Bifrost Bridge still functional, and did the god Heimdall still guard it? Yes. Had the eagle and the wyrm run out of insults for each other yet?
Ratatosk chuckled.
Do tell .
That’s a good one , I acknowledged. Accurate yet succinct. Did the eagle offer a riposte?
He stopped again.
It’s been remarked upon before , I admitted.
Ratatosk said, then began sprinting up the root once more. I didn’t agree that this was good. Confirmation that the Norns were expecting me sounded extraordinarily bad.
the squirrel continued,
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