The Age of Odin - James Lovegrove [103]
Finally we reached a citadel, a palatial igloo-shaped building whose sides were studded with millions of ice crystals, creating a dazzling diamante effect. Liberace and Dolly Parton would have felt right at home here. Inside there was more of the frou-frou architecture and design: spindly columns carved in rising spirals, skeletal staircases that curved and arched and seemed to have no purpose other than just to be there, and ceilings with shapes suspended from them that resembled either snail shells or, if you had a mind to it, dog turds. There were also large numbers of...
"Chops, what do you call those carvings on the walls?"
"Ice friezes?" suggested Chopsticks.
"I know it does, but -"
"No, friezes. Ice friezes."
"Ohhh."
"Quiet, humans!" barked Suttung. "No talking."
Some of the friezes depicted great jotuns throughout history, heroes and leaders in suitably noble and dramatic stances. Others showed frost giants and Aesir in battle. Still others were unflattering portraits of Jotunheim's Public Enemy Number One, Thor. Thor, very overweight, with boss eyes, man-boobs, and a tiddly little Mjolnir held at crotch level. Thor going toe-to-toe with some frost giant or other and looking like he was getting the worst of the fight, even though I was pretty sure he'd never actually lost any of his legendary clashes with the jotuns. Thor lying face down, comatose, surrounded by empty drinking vessels, with a puddle of what could only be urine seeping out from under him. It was a crude, tub-thumping display of propaganda; part of me wished Thor could be here to see it, and part of me was relieved he wasn't.
A throne chamber at the heart of the building was where Bergelmir was waiting for us. He was perched on a dais with wife Leikn by his side, and I could tell he'd thought long and hard about how he should be posed when we were brought in. He'd settled on Broodingly Contemplative - legs akimbo, chin on fist, free hand toying with an ice dagger.
The room itself was packed with frost giants, and our escort had to shove through the crowd to get to the dais. More frost giants entered behind us, and even more stood on the gallery that ran round the chamber at first-floor height. The mood was distinctly hostile, which was no big surprise, but I tried not to let it faze me. In prison I'd been good at defusing tension. I could surely put that same skill into practice here.
"Ah yes, you," Bergelmir said, glaring at me. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't gut you with this knife, right here, right now, and strangle you with your own innards."
To judge by the mutterings all around, the frosties could give him several good reasons why he should.
"Yeah, nice to see you again too, Bergelmir," I said. "Glad you survived that glacier getting blown up."
"Don't try your blandishments on me, human scum. There's no love lost between us."
"Okay, so I admit we didn't part as the best of friends last time. But that wasn't my fault, really, was it? I didn't ask to fight a duel with one of you lot, and I certainly didn't expect to win."
"That you did win is all that's keeping me from ordering your immediate execution. Yours and your associates'."
"I appreciate it. To be honest, I've been counting on it. I sensed - and if I'm wrong about this, please say so - but I sensed that in some strange way, in spite of everything, you quite admire me."
Bergelmir laughed, once, sharply.
"Maybe not admire, then," I said, "but perhaps respect? By frost giant standards I did well. You people put a premium on courage in battle and ruthlessness, and that's what I showed."
"True," said Bergelmir. "I would go further and say you have a callous disregard for your opposition, and not only that but an insanity inside