The ravens silently agreed and offered no comment when Justin begin outlining ways the people could worship him. He had nothing on which to base any ceremony and used a mix of elements observed from other gods’ worship, as well as what he knew about the nature emphasis of Old Norse religion. The Arcadians liked that although Odin required respect and fealty, he didn’t require the wealth and heavy taxation of Nehitimar’s worship. Justin taught them ansuz, the rune most associated with Odin directly and had a feeling many would be secretly wearing ansuz pendants when he left. Gideon in particular seemed to find deeper understanding as Justin briefly outlined the rune’s higher meanings.
He truly is a priest, noted Magnus. He’s one who could grasp the runes and their secrets. You must make sure he knows what he needs to know before you leave.
I don’t even know what he needs to know! Justin snapped back. I’m making half of this up as I go along.
And you’re doing a great job, said Horatio. All-father is pleased.
In conversing with the ravens, Justin had fallen silent. Seeing the curious looks of the Arcadians, he turned apologetic. “Sorry. Odin speaks to me through his ravens, Hugin and Munin. Thought and Memory. Normally, they stay with him, bringing him the world’s knowledge, but he’s blessed me by allowing them to advise me.”
I don’t think “blessed” is a word you’ve ever used with us, said Horatio. We’re touched.
Hush. These people need some signs and wonders. Feel like making an appearance?
That caught the ravens by surprise, a rarity Justin had little chance to appreciate. Are you sure? Magnus returned. You know what it’s like when we manifest, and you aren’t in great shape to begin with.
Yes, Justin knew. The ravens were so bound to him after all these years that if they left his mind and took on corporeal form, he was left with a splitting headache. But in his state, he wasn’t sure he could pull off any rune spells. One of Justin’s most frustrating issues with the religions he’d investigated was that they were all talk and little action. These people deserved action.
Do it, said Justin.
There was a poof, and like that, Horatio and Magnus appeared out of thin air, causing gasps and screams from the assembly. They beat their huge black wings as they sought a place to land, and instinctively, Justin held out his arms, offering a perch to each one. They accepted, and although his head did feel like it was going to explode, there was a rightness to having the ravens there.
After that, the people were his.
He gave them everything else he could think of to carry on a fledgling worship of Odin, including naming Gideon as an interim priest. “Pray and do your best,” he told the old man. “Odin may come and guide you further in your dreams.”
The crowd was equally awed when Justin made the ravens disappear, and they followed him to the door when Hansen finally said he could leave. One tug on Justin’s sleeve caught his attention, and he saw it was the same girl who’d spoken to him at the beginning. This truly was an unusual group if they allowed their women the right to talk and question.
“Thank you for speaking to us,” she said shyly. “I wish we’d been able to learn more about that goddess—Freya. Or would . . . or would that make Odin angry?”
The girl’s face was heavily marked by Cain, but there was an intelligence and strength in her eyes that Arcadian discipline and lack of formal education hadn’t diminished. “No,” he said. “She is his equal, and they can exist together. You can worship her and pray to her as well.”
Way to advocate for the boss, said Horatio, sounding more amused than upset.
These people need to see a female face on the divine, Justin insisted. It does no one any good to just have Odin slip into Nehitimar’s tyrannical role. Odin will be better served by empowered, free-thinking people, men and women alike.
The gravity of that thought, that he was pondering what might best serve Odin, drew Justin up short and left him momentarily at a loss for words. The Arcadian girl tilted her head and studied him curiously.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Justin put his show face back on and tried to smile reassuringly. “Absolutely.”
She smiled tentatively in return. “Can you tell me anything else at all about Freya? Anything about what she’s like?”
Justin lacked some of the more spiritual insights about Freya that he did Odin, but his mental encyclopedia of most gods was still at the ready. “She governs love, sexuality, and fertility . . . but also war and death too. She rides into battle as fiercely as any other warrior but still remains the most beautiful woman in the world. Beauty like that is shown, not covered up or left to be ashamed of.”
The girl’s eyes were wide. “What does she look like?”
Justin was on the verge of offering some esoteric answer about how one couldn’t describe the beauty of a goddess but instead found himself saying, “Her hair is gold, like sunlight on a winter’s day, worn long and unbound with a crown of flowers on top.”
“What kind of flowers?” asked the girl breathlessly.
“Apple blossoms.” Then, returning back to Norse canon and away from his own images of divine beauty, he added, “And she wears a cloak of feathers and an amber necklace.”
As the words left his lips, he again found himself doing a mental double take. Is it more than coincidence and my own unresolved feelings that are muddling Freya and Mae together? Is there a connection I’ve missed? The girl was too awed to say more, and with Hansen pulling him to the door, Justin had no chance to cultivate the small fear beginning to grow in the back of his head. Everyone else wanted to make their goodbyes, especially Gideon. Justin felt dizzy by the time he made it to Hansen’s car, but whether that was from the stories he’d just spun or sheer exhaustion, he couldn’t say. There was also the possibility he was reeling from something else, a feeling of exhilaration and lightness that had been building in him as he spoke to the assembly and that seemed to fill every part of his being with power.
Odin’s presence, affirmed Magnus. Your words brought him to this place tonight. Do this often, and you will always enjoy the touch of his power.
I don’t think it’s anything I’ll be doing again soon, Justin countered.
The raven didn’t buy it. Won’t you, priest?
Hansen was high and thrilled in his own way and chatted the whole way home about how Justin had changed his life and how all those who’d heard him tonight would hold true to Odin and not betray Justin. Justin hadn’t thought that much about betrayal until now and realized, with a sinking heart, that it’d only take one slip from one person to reveal what he’d done. Promoting worship of anyone other than Nehitimar was high treason in Arcadia.
That group seemed pretty caught up in the excitement of it all, said Horatio. So long as they don’t start doubting for three more days, you should be fine.
In fact, added Magnus. You could probably go after that staff in your free time.
Justin was incredulous. Free time? I need to lay low and not doing anything else to cause attention until we go home. The staff is out of our reach.
It could be a powerful weapon for you, said Magnus.
For me or for Odin? asked Justin.
Does it matter? What Hansen described sounds like something that creates a glamor or aura of influence around the bearer. Imagine the things you could achieve with that kind of asset.