Loki Read Online Free

absurd proposal.
    “ You? Rebuild Asgard’s wall?” He laughed harder. “Go back to Midgard and toil away your miserable life building hovels and carving tombstones.”
    The mason stood his ground, unmoved by Heimdall’s mocking. His laughter was quickly ended by a flapping sound from above. He looked up to see Odin’s ravens flying overhead. The birds circled high over Heimdall and then flew back towards Asgard. Odin’s message was clear.
    “ It seems that the High One would like to have audience with you.” There was a trace of confusion, but only a trace. If Odin decreed that this mortal be let onto Asgard to pursue his ridiculous goal, then who was he to question? Odin’s wisdom was eternal, and he obviously saw purpose in allowing this mortal to pass.
    As the mason led his horse to the end of Bifrost, Heimdall considered that the strangeness that he could not identify in the mason was the reason the Allfather wanted him to be let in. He contented himself with the thought of the Allfather’s wisdom, keeping them safe from the evil that festered in Jotunheim, where the giants continually sought the death of the gods and the order they brought to the Nine Worlds.
    The frozen crunch of grass under the mason’s feet grew fainter and fainter with every step he took as Heimdall watched him dwindle in the distance, a lingering doubt mostly fading.
     
    The Allfather’s summons came while he fought a dozen retainers in the courtyard. Tyr was unarmed save his fists, and the warriors came at him with sword and axe, each intent on drawing blood.
    Tyr was fast enough to avoid them, but it was not his speed which served him so much as his ability to anticipate. He read their motions and gestures, the eye movements that showed where they aimed. As one drew closer, he grabbed a sword arm in mid-swing and tossed the attacker into two others, sending all three roughly to the ground. He kicked the feet out from under one and bent under the clumsy lunge of another, sending him tumbling to the ground. A few more deft attacks and counters, and all of his attackers were disarmed, or on the ground, or both.
    He picked up a fallen sword and approached the closest man. He held the point to his chest. “That did not go well,” he said.
    Orn wiped sweat from his forehead. “No, my lord. It did not.”
    Tyr stuck the sword in the ground and helped Orn to his feet. His other retainers rose and recovered weapons, some nursing bruises.
    “ You see our plans before we do, my lord. It is not a fair battle.” Orn pulled his sword out of the ground. His tone did not ring of complaint, merely fact. The others nodded or grunted in agreement.
    Tyr acknowledged the truth of Orn’s words, if only to himself. It was true that even a dozen of them could never hope to beat him. His battle prowess was legendary, and none of the Aesir could match his skill with a sword. Only Thor was a match for him on the battlefield, and that was only due to raw power and strength. None could match the Thunderer for those, but in terms of pure craft with a blade, there was no contest.
    “ There is no fair in war,” Tyr said. “You will not face one other of your exact skill on a battlefield.”
    “ But you are Aesir, my lord,” Geir said. “We won't face even one such as you.”
    “ It's true, lord,” Orn added. “Even unarmed we cannot touch you.”
    Tyr frowned. “What will be your excuse when the giants march on us? 'They're too big?'”
    Another of his retainers, Kjallar, said, “But my lord, the giants will at least be easy to hit. We could just barely see you move. How could we hit you when your movements are faster than our eyes?”
    Tyr sighed. “If I wanted complaining I'd have the women out here.”
    His retainers, embarrassed at the light chiding, forestalled further complaint.
    “ You are able fighters, but your skills of observation are piss-poor. I did not beat you because I am faster or stronger. I beat you because I could see your