Chapter 3 - Beyond The Wall Of World (Part-2)

There was a brief, harried period of gathering weapons. I had one of the knives and the gun. Ivar had the other knife and the axe. It was a proper weapon for a proto-Viking. Ivar solemnly hugged his kids. They were trying to be brave. But, the little one burst into tears crying, "I want mommy?"

Wilfred scooped him up and said soothingly, "Hush - that's what your daddy is going to do my little chap. They'll all be back tickety-boo." I didn't speak ancient British. But I assumed that was meant to be comforting.

I understood what "dark as a grave" meant as soon as we got out of the daylight from the entrance. There is something unnerving about walking in total blackness. I recall thinking, "Enclosed space, earthy smell – yep! It feels about right." I hoped that wasn't an omen.

We were using pen flashlights, not a flare. Loki was a Jotunn not an Asgard god. He hadn't been aware of my presence until I made a startled sound. So, maybe he had normal hearing and eyesight. Perhaps we could sneak up on him; maybe catch him asleep or something?? Right??!!

Don't bother saying it - I knew I was kidding myself. You can call me stupid if you want. I kept muttering that under my breath as we crept along in the dark. But my sense of who I was, the part that was hidden from me, wouldn't let me turn back.

I told Ivar about my earlier brush with Loki. He said angrily, "Why didn't you tell me this before?!"

Okay, that was a little harsh. But I knew where it was coming from. I was just as worried about the fate of my little friend Dani. She was such a sweet and innocent soul.

I said, "Look man, think about it. How would you feel if I'd told you that I'd run into the Norse God Loki? Would your first thought be that your wife was going to be kidnapped, or that I was crazy?"

Ivar said grimly, "If you told me that I would have advised all of us to leave immediately. There have been far too many indications that this place is supernatural. All the signs were marked by my ancestors. We just didn't pay attention to them."

Personally, I would have gone with the "crazy" option. But I guess belief in mythological characters was a Viking thing. I was about to apologize, when we splashed through a puddle on the cave floor.

We both pointed our lights down. I found to my absolute horror that we were standing in a pool of rapidly congealing blood!! That deserved a flare!!

The flare lit the cave in a dazzling red glow. The red was appropriate. There were two pieces of human body totally separated; intestines were strewn in between. It was the source of all the blood. I dropped the flare in horror and revulsion.

It was the priest. He was lying face up with his lower body turned in the opposite direction. It was like an unruly kid had twisted a doll in half. The priest's mouth was a rictus of fear and pain. I threw-up on one side of the cave, Ivar puked on the other.

It was appalling and disgusting. But it was also terrifying. That grisly sight meant that we were facing a creature who was unspeakably cruel and inhumanly strong. An old .45 and two knives weren't going to do much against a guy like that. Ivar and I had to talk.

I rinsed my mouth from our water bottle and glanced at Ivar. He looked as green as I felt. I nodded at the mess on the floor, it was scarcely human, and said dispassionately, "We're going to get the same treatment if we catch this guy."

Ivar looked unhappy. He'd obviously been thinking the same thing. But he didn't have a choice. Loki had kidnapped his wife. Running away would be an insufferable act of cowardice. I, on the other hand, didn't have a dog in the fight. At least that was what I'd thought.

Then I remembered Dani's sweet face, her devotion to me, her kind, gentle, loving disposition and the underlying current of smoldering sexuality. I had to go after her, even though we'd only just met.

A random thought flashed through my mind. I knew that this was something I was uniquely suited to do. It was part of my past.

We were resting in the dying light of the flare, butts propped against the cave wall, hands on knees, still getting over the gruesome thing we'd just seen. I said, "Tell me everything you know about this Loki. What are his strengths and weaknesses?"

Ivar said, "He's superhumanly strong, but not like Thor, or Tyr. He's crafty, but not as clever as Odin. Shape-shifting is his only unique ability and that's mainly to deceive."

It looked like an idea struck him. Ivar said excitedly, "When Loki shape-shifts he has the same vulnerabilities as the creature he has changed into. THAT's his fatal flaw!!"

Odin had alluded to that. I said, "For the sake of full disclosure, Odin paid me a visit last night. He was in the process of telling me the same thing when the kidnap happened." I had the passing thought, "Maybe Odin knew what Loki was doing?"

Okay, that sounded weird – even to me. I'd just been advised by the king of the gods about the best way to handle one of his errant subjects.

Ivar took me totally seriously. He nodded and said, "The gods can be injured and even killed. It's part of the Norse mentality. To the Vikings, dominance is determined by who's the best fighter and fighters have to be susceptible, otherwise there wouldn't be a point to the contest."

He added, "A wound means somebody has defeated you. So, if a warrior is wounded, he loses status and reputation. It's a central aspect of their very harsh culture – it's survival of the fittest. That also applies to the Viking gods. At Ragnarök the various gods kill each other in mortal combat."

I said, just to clarify, "So, we can take Loki out, if we can get him to shape-shift into something that we can hurt, like an animal, or another human??"

Ivar nodded eagerly and said, "It's the only chance we have."

We had a plan. But, the sense of unspeakable dread remained.

Both of us had our reasons for continuing up that cave. Ivar's motives were simple. Loki had stolen his wife. We both knew why Loki kidnapped the two women. The Vikings liked to rape just as much as they liked to pillage. So, Ivar had to man-up or lose everything.

My motives were a bit more complex. To be honest, doing the right thing was a rationalization. It wasn't the actual reason. The fact was, Dani's loyal and loving soul had worked its way deep into my heart

Fearless just means you don't understand the odds. It takes real courage to press on when you're shitting yourself. I was pretty sure that we were going to end up like the priest. But I was still willing to fight a legendary Norse bad-guy, armed with nothing but an ancient pistol and a carving knife; all for the sake of my little rectory cat.

Once we got to the cavern, we didn't need the flashlights. We could see clearly in the ambient orange glow. The problem was that we could be seen by anybody on the other side while we were on the bridge. So, we dropped onto the ancient flagstones and crawled across it.

The other side was a revelation. Ivar had told me that Asgard was the Norse version of heaven. But it looked more like the Christian hell. The space was perhaps 200 yards wide and it was the lip of an active volcano, which curved off into the unseen distance.

There was the sound of an unspeakable force brewing in the huge caldera below. The glow was brighter there. It lit everything in an eerie orange light. Ivar had alluded to an end-of-the-world scenario. Maybe this was it.

But where was the heat? We should be burning to death. After all, we were standing next to a live volcano. Instead, it was like a nice spring day in Copenhagen; meaning it was cool and pleasant.

Of course, they were gods. So, I suppose they could make their weather whatever they wanted it to be. And perhaps there hadn't been a volcano next door before Ragnarök.

Still, what caught my attention was the enormous Viking mead-hall hulking at the end of the wide, cobblestone path. From the sound of it, they were having a lot of fun in there.

Ivar said awed, "Valhalla."

Valhalla was the place where Viking warriors ended-up, if they were heroic enough in battle. My heart sank. I thought to myself, "The guy who we're after is in there with an all-star cast of Viking berserkers. We can't just walk in and yell, Stick 'em up!!"

The building was perhaps thirty feet tall and heavily thatched. Ornate Norse carvings stuck out from the eaves, like longship prows. There was a plume of cooking smoke coming out of a hole in the roof.

The walls themselves were perhaps 15 feet high. It looked like big logs had been jammed into the ground, just like the stockade of an old-west fort. The space in between each log was caulked with mud to make it weather tight. But there were a few places where the mud had been dislodged. We crept up to the nearest hole to sneak a peek.

The hall was brightly lit by torches. A big fire was burning in the middle of the room. There were maybe twenty-five burly Vikings sitting around a huge table, all in various states of drunkenness. Those must have been Loki's posse. The air was heavy with smoke from the torches and the fire.

Loki himself was sprawled in a huge elaborately carved chair, which had been elevated on a raised dais. He was holding a hefty drinking horn and smiling condescendingly down at the group in front of him.

I only peripherally noticed the rest of the scene, because I had spotted Dani reclining submissively at Loki's feet. She was being displayed like a trophy, lying on her side on a bear-skin rug, round hip jutting.

She was totally nude, as were all the women moving around the table serving the men. One of those was Birgit.

As I watched, Loki reached down and raised Dani to her feet. My first thought was, "She had THAT body underneath all those church-lady clothes??!! " She was a Viking raider's dream; a goddess.

She wasn't even remotely chubby. It was her loose hanging clothing that created that impression. The clothes masked her tiny waist. Her taut round hips and big boobs.

I knew that her breasts were huge. But that much mass should have hung down, not just jutted out like a couple of ripe melons. Her stomach was flat; soft round and bountifully inviting.

Like the innocent girl that she was, she hadn't done anything about her bush. It was full and proud topping the finest pair of sleek, well-muscled legs I had ever seen.

My reverie was interrupted by two things. First, Loki turned Dani to face him. She shifted her stance to one of erotic invitation, legs spread slightly, and her hips thrust forward. She reached out and dangled her arms over Loki's shoulder, presenting her body to him. The ferocious heaving of her chest made her big tits bobble tantalizingly.

She stared deeply into Loki's eyes and her face morphed into a mask of pure lust. Loki brought his lips down to hers and she opened wide to receive him.

The two of them explored each other's mouths. Then Loki grabbed Dani's delicious round ass and plastered her naked crotch against his no-doubt raging hard-on. He reached between them and fumbled for a second. Dani's head rocked back, and her explosive shriek of sexual pleasure could be heard above all the laughing and talking.

Then Loki seized the two exquisite globes of Dani's butt and hoisted her completely off the ground. She got a death-grip on his neck, wrapped her long gorgeous legs around his waist and began making rhythmic Ungh! Ungh! Ungh! Ohhh!! sounds.

That was a painfully erotic sight. But the fellow who really got the ball rolling was one of the warriors. Birgit was as naked as Dani and her powerful body was almost as sensually alluring. She was pouring mead out of a jug into a warrior's cup. That cup had formerly been somebody's skull.

The Viking was idly fondling Birgit's dangling tits as she poured the mead. Rather than breaking the jug over his head, Birgit moaned with lust. That motivated the guy to grab one boob and suck on the thick, hugely erect nipple. She moaned much louder and dropped the jug.

The guy stood, and Birgit laid herself seductively on the reed floor. It was a provocation, not romance. Then she spread and elevated her legs and looked invitingly at him.

The dude dropped eagerly to his knees pulled the string on his baggy drawers and drew out an imposing weapon, which he inserted without hesitation. That produced an ungodly grunt on Birgit's part, as she took the Viking to the hilt. The Viking pushed Birgit's legs back even further, until her knees were touching her big meaty tits.

Meanwhile, Loki had laid Dani down on the bearskin and re-entered her. Dani was holding her legs insanely wide to encourage maximum access; feet pointed almost straight out, toes curled. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy and her mouth was wide-open in a silent scream.

I could see Loki's godlike member coated with Dani's juices slowly pistoning in and out of her. Her hips rose to meet each powerful thrust. The loud wet slapping noises were like shots.

The sound of their fucking was accompanied by Dani's deep rhythmic moans, which were becoming so loud that they carried to where I crouched outside the Mead-Hall.

Ivar took off the instant he saw his wife getting fucked. It was an understandable reaction. After what I had witnessed, I was just as ready to face a hall full of berserkers. But given that we were outnumbered thirteen to one, and one of those guys was a demi-god, it was perhaps NOT the smartest thing we could have done at the time.

Nonetheless, Ivar came crashing through the door, axe in hand; me in hot pursuit. I mean, what the fuck ELSE could I do!!??

Nobody noticed Ivar at first. The Vikings were all standing around watching the outlandish sex that was happening on the floor.

Meanwhile, Loki was sucking one of Dani's luscious nipples, while he pounded energetically between her legs. She was bent in half, knees over his shoulders, legs waving above them. Her arms were around Loki's head plastering his face to her big tits, her eyes were staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Her sleek hips heaved like ocean waves; taking Loki deeply with each thrust. She groaned with blatant longing every time he withdrew.

Given the intensity of the moment, it was perfectly understandable that the Vikings hadn't noticed our arrival. That changed when Ivar strode the fifteen feet from the door to the place where his wife was winding up to a monster orgasm. He then proceeded to bury the axe in the back of her lover's head.

THAT got us noticed. Blood flew everywhere. The huge inert body collapsed across Birgit. She wasn't aware of what had happened, because she was going through a series of prolonged writhing and shrieking contortions.

It had all happened so fast that everybody just stopped and stared, open mouthed. That is, everyone except Loki and Dani who were experiencing what sounded like their own life-extinguishing orgasm up there on the dais.

One of the Vikings growled and turned toward Ivar. Enraged, he drew a longsword and shouted something. I didn't speak old Norse. But I got the drift, "That was my brother!!!"

I was in no mood to mess around. The moans and grunts from the direction of the dais guaranteed that. So, I shot the guy in the head. Again, I had absolutely no idea how I was able to do that so efficiently and accurately. But it was like second nature.

More blood splattered. That stopped everybody. They probably thought that I was some kind of demi-god too, since .45 caliber Colt automatics were a rarity in the Dark Ages. The problem was that I was now facing two dozen thoroughly pissed off Vikings, with six rounds left in the clip.

At that moment, there was high-pitched, scornful laughter from the direction of the dais. Loki said in a taunting voice, "Have you come to get your woman, human? I'm sorry but she's mine now. She won't want you anyhow, now that she's experienced ME."

He raised Dani to her feet. She was looking dazed and glassy-eyed, chest heaving from the fucking she'd just gotten. Loki stepped off the dais and walked toward me. He was holding Dani's hand and laughing with utter contempt.

Dani swayed along next to him naked and absolutely compliant. It was clear that she was very-much under Loki's spell. She was like a living wet-dream, her full tit's bobbling as she struggled to get her breath back.

The sight drove me wild with rage. I said, "Then fight me for her asshole!!" I was really getting into the Viking thing. That was the way they settled stuff back then.

I was counting on that. Because, an idea was starting to form. Loki was with his boys. He wouldn't dare back-down from a challenge.

I said, taunting him, "Just you and me you gutless piece of shit, fight me like a man!! I can kick your ass, even if you use one of your limp-dick tricks." I had to goad him into shape-shifting.

I didn't know whether the gambit was going to work. But I was counting on Loki overreaching. That was the plan anyhow. There was no going back.

Loki laughed derisively and said, "You want tricks. How about Jörmungandr?"

I'd gotten to him! Or maybe it was Dani. He was clearly showing off for somebody. Jörmungandr was the Midgard Serpent.

Jörmungandr coiled, ready to strike. Its mouth was open, poisonous fangs dripping. Its head was as high as the ceiling.

I REALLY HATE SNAKES. This one was infinitely more horrifying; since, it spewed venom so potent that it killed Thor. I emptied the clip rapid fire, three in each of Jörmungandr's obsidian eyes. Those were the only vulnerable parts of its armored head.

The Colt's ancient. But its hitting power is legendary. The heavy, 230 grain ACP slugs just obliterated the snake's eyeballs. There was an ungodly scream of pain and Loki reappeared, writhing in agony on the floor and gouging at his face, blood ran between his fingers.

I'd just fought a demi-god and won!! The entire group was frozen in astonishment.

Dani was my woman now. So, I grabbed her by the hand and tugged. She looked confused and hesitated momentarily. Then she seemed to recognize me, and we ran together.

Ivar was already crossing the bridge, carrying his wife. I was surprised that a horde of angry Vikings weren't bellowing for our blood. Ivar said by way of explanation, "We're safe from them. They can't leave Valhalla."

Then he added agitatedly, "But the other gods will come after us. You just blinded one of their kin. It's a Viking blood vendetta now. We have to get everybody on the boat and get off this island immediately."

He set Birgit down. She looked like she was coming back from a dream. I recognized that look. It was the same one I'd had a mere ten days ago. Then she realized that she was naked. She gasped and did the thing that women do with her arms across her breasts, one hand covering her dripping pussy.

I heard a yelp behind me, and Dani was crouched into a little ball, trying to cover herself. She said anguished, "Where am I, what happened??" The erotic seductress was gone, and the innocent church girl had returned. She was one profoundly embarrassed woman.

By that point, we had gotten far enough into the cave that nobody could see much of anything. I said as delicately as I could, "We'll keep the lights aimed at the floor to preserve your modesty." But I still couldn't get Dani's fantastic body and her electrifying sexuality out of my mind.

We had another complication. I didn't want either of them to see the priest's remains, especially Dani. Given her devotion to her father, I knew that she wouldn't survive the vision of him torn to shreds. Later on, I'd tell her how heroic he had been, without getting into the gory details. She certainly didn't need to see the evidence.

I said, using my most persuasive tone of voice, "There are some glass shards and sharp rocks ahead. We'll have to carry you, or you are going to cut your bare feet."

I picked Dani up. Even though her body looked substantial, she was light as a feather, perhaps 100 pounds. I sensed that she was extremely self-conscious, naked in my arms. But she trusted me. She held my neck tightly.

That reminded me of the way she had held Loki. I got a flash of insane jealousy. I had absolutely no reason to feel that way. She wasn't hugging Loki by her own free-will.

I imagined that Ivar was experiencing the same thing. It wasn't like Birgit had been forced. She was the aggressor and she clearly enjoyed every second of her intense fucking. If I was married to her, THAT would give me pause.

But we both knew that Birgit was in the thrall of a supernatural being. The same was true with Dani. Dani had taken Loki's big cock like a pro. Worse, I had heard her loudly begging for more. That alone was proof that both of them were under some kind of spell.

A woman has to totally abandon herself to act like that. But Birgit was a wife and mother and Dani was a chaste and modest girl. At least she'd been a virgin before Loki kidnapped her. So, logically, it would take supernatural intervention to cause both of them to act so totally out of character.

Animals mate. That's a natural selection imperative. So, the capacity to enjoy sex is an essential part of our programming.

At the same time, humans survived because they worked together, and indiscriminate sex acts can seriously fuck-up group dynamics. Just drop by a redneck bar on any given Saturday night if you want to see what I'm talking about.

Hence, civilization had to create rules about who you could fuck and when. Call those religion, or morality, or whatever you like. But their sole purpose is to prevent us from reverting to our animal selves. And, there's no telling how wild a virginal church girl might get if they are ever eliminated.

Dani clearly wasn't herself while Loki was fucking her, and she didn't remember anything about her remarkable descent into slutdom. That was evident in everything she said and did afterwards. The woman I was holding in my arms was sweet and gentle and still a virgin in her own mind.

I could easily accept that Dani and Birgit remembered nothing. Since, I couldn't recall my OWN name. That fact alone, convinced me that Dani's actions weren't anything she could control, or even recollect.

It was pitch black in the cave. So, I couldn't actually see Dani as I carried her. But my other senses were working overtime. She had been fucked long and hard. So, I smelled the sweat of her exertion and the musky aroma of sex. I could feel her still-aroused swollen boobs crushed against me. I even felt the hardness of her nipples

Amazingly, that gorgeous and still turned-on female body worked a miracle. I developed a giant hard-on. I wanted this woman more than I wanted my memory back, more than anything else in the world.

Unfortunately, there were a few practical considerations. Like, the rest of the party was waiting for us and Birgit and Dani couldn't just reappear stark naked and looking well-fucked. So, I left my three companions and went ahead to gather some clothes.

I told the two old gay guys that I needed warm outfits for the women. They looked puzzled. There were a lot of questions. I just walked over to where we had the luggage stacked and began rummaging through everybody's stuff.

The priest's bag produced a couple of thick wool sweaters. That was good. The guy wouldn't need them anymore. I got two spare pairs of jeans and some sturdy shoes from Dani's and Birgit's luggage and Charles actually produced two pair of women's underwear. I didn't ask.

I found my companions lurking back in the darkness thirty yards up the cave. We were trying to respect the woman's modesty. So, we kept the light to a minimum. But I caught a reflected glimpse of Dani's perfect round ass as she bent to pull up her panties ... stunning!!

We would join the rest after the women got decent. But there was still one unavoidable chore and I wanted to get it out of the way. That was to tell Dani about her father.

Dani would have noticed that her dad was missing, and we would have to tell her why. I wanted to give her some privacy when she got the news. So, I said in a respectful voice, "Dani, can we talk for a minute."

She looked at me with hope in her eyes and said brightly, "What?"

This was going to get very awkward. I opened my arms and said, "Come here please." She came unhesitatingly into my arms. But it was like a child, not a woman of incredible sexual talent.

I encircled her with a hug. She looked up eagerly, like she expected a kiss. Instead, I said, "How much do you remember of what just happened?"

She looked disappointed. She wanted more. She said puzzled, "I recall falling asleep last night and awakening back in the cave with you holding my hand. I know something happened. But I don't remember anything."

Then she looked perplexed and said hopefully, "Did we have sex? I feel funny down there."

What a wonderfully ingenuous thing to say. I'm not a woman so I don't actually know what Dani was feeling. But absent any prior experience with sex, I imagine that her first thoughts weren't, "I just fucked a Demi-God," even if there was a clear evidence that she had.

I chuckled and said, "I want you to know that you are the most precious thing in the world to me." She sighed and relaxed against me.

I soldiered on with, "But the thing I have to tell you is disturbing. I want to hold you when you hear it."

She leaned back, eyes glistening with love. I had a flash of her opening her body to Loki in the same manner. The rational part of my brain smacked me on the back of the head and snarled, "Grow up!!"

I braced myself and said, "Your father is dead. He died this morning. I'm very sorry."

She looked momentarily disbelieving. She searched my face and saw that I was serious. A curtain of devastation slammed down over her eyes and she gasped, "When??!! How??!!"

I said, "I will answer any questions you have. But please let me share that with you later. Suffice it to say that he proved his devotion to you to the last measure."

She wailed in anguish and buried her head in my chest, sobbing with a broken heart.

I was painfully aware of her hard, little body and soft-pillow tits. I was running through the starting lineup of the Washington Nationals thinking, "God!! Please don't let me spring something inappropriate!!" And how did I know who the Washington Nationals were?

I let her sob for a couple of minutes, stroking her hair and mumbling over-and-over, "It's going to be all-right my love. I'm here with you."

She eventually pulled herself together. She might be sweet and gentle. But she was also a considerate and tough-minded woman. She knew that prolonged grieving was selfish. So, she forced herself to stop and turned a tear stained face up to me. I lowered my lips to hers. It was like fighting the pull of gravity.

Dani gave me the same kind of hot, steamy kiss that she had given Loki; lithe body avidly plastered against me, lips frantically moving and nipping at mine. It was sensational. It was also obvious that her body remembered everything it had done even if her memory was a blank.

She groaned with desire then she snapped her head back and looked frightened. She said anguished, "What's happening to me? What am I doing? I've kissed a few men. But never like THAT!! What must you think of me?"

That particular statement raised a few interesting points to ponder. But they had to be saved for later. I laughed and deflected with, "Well if that's the case then I want several more just like it. But we are in mortal danger right now and we have to get off this island."

She looked at me uncomprehendingly. I added, "It has to do with your father's death. I'll explain it after we're rescued. But for now, we need to get packed and back to the boat."

I placed my arm around her delicate shoulders and started to walk toward our friends. That was when I saw a gleaming metal object. The group had seen Dani coming and they were waving at her, encouraging her to join them. So, she walked on in their direction. I stopped to pick up the object.

It was a heavy, pure silver, link necklace. It had a large token on it that looked like an axe with a very short handle, or perhaps a hammer. I heard a voice in my head. The voice was Odin's. It said, "You prevailed. This is your reward. It will grant a wish, if it is truly worthy."

I put it around my neck, thoroughly mystified. Ivar was holding both of his kids. He spotted my new-found bauble. He said questioningly, "Where did you get that?!! That's Thor's hammer!!"

I hesitated to tell him that Odin had given it to me personally. He'd think I was hallucinating. So, I said as casually as I could, "Oh this?? I just found it on the floor of the cave."

Ivar said enviously, "Be careful with it. It might be historically significant. Viking warriors wore Thor's Hammer to protect themselves. It was like the Christian cross."

So, I was wearing something that the king of the Norse Gods had given me. I'd think about what that meant later. My only focus right now, was on getting off the island.

Luckily, it was high tide and with all of us pushing we were able to get back afloat. We had loaded the boat with everything that we'd brought from the cave, including the melt-water and puffin eggs.

Dani wouldn't leave my side. I understood why she was so obsessed. She'd lost her father and she needed to be close to the man she loved.

I didn't care because I couldn't get enough of her. I might be a man with no name. But I had to live up to her childlike faith in me. Her cheerful attitude her obvious love and her simple innocent trust. It all made me into a much stronger person.

I backed us into the deeper part of the little cove turned and set course 45 degrees north of the setting sun. Iceland was out there somewhere and if I missed that we would certainly hit Greenland.

The only question was how far we would have to travel before we ran into somebody. We had been in a transatlantic shipping lane prior to the explosion. There had to be ships out there somewhere.

A couple of hours passed. We had gone perhaps 10 miles. The wind was blowing snow at an alarming rate. But the island was still visible through the looming fog.

Everybody was quiet. It had been a long night. Birgit was cuddling her kids and Dani was sleeping with her head on my shoulder. Neither woman remembered anything about their earlier exploits. I guess that was a blessing. The two old guys were also both asleep. They had done their duty.

Ivar and I had some thinking to do. It's easy to go with the flow when you're in the middle of a fight. It's only AFTER the adrenaline wears off that you reflect on what it all meant, and we had plenty of new information to wrap our minds around.

We had witnessed the supernatural. We knew that the legends were true. Of course, the women could never find out. It would be pointlessly cruel and self-indulgent on our part to tell them. I was certain that I was mentally tough enough to handle that secret. I hoped Ivar was.

But reason had to arm-wrestle with ego. Specifically, I had to come to grips with the fact that Dani was no longer innocent.

It blew my mind to watch the love of my life in the throes of ecstasy. But honestly, I knew that I couldn't judge her. It should have been two-thousand degrees Fahrenheit on the other side of that bridge. Instead it was a perfect Scandinavian day.

I mean seriously! The dude could control the weather. If he could manufacture his own climate, then how hard would it be to turn a virginal church girl into a wanton slut?

However, Loki was behind us now and every aspect of Dani's bedrock values and moral integrity was still intact. It was evident in everything she did and said. Nobody is that good an actor. So, I was truly confident that it'd just been a nightmare aberration.

The question left to answer though, was whether Dani still had the extraordinary sexual abilities that she'd exhibited in the mead-hall. I decided that would be an enjoyable subject to research.

A weird thing happened as I was thinking about that. It was semi-blizzarding outside. Then it was as if we drove through a curtain. Suddenly the waves and wind stopped, and it was a bright sunny day. I looked out the rear porthole and there was a thick bank of pea-soup fog behind us. The island was nowhere to be seen.

I was still trying to figure out what had happened, when an airplane rocketed past at wavetop level. It was a small, all-white, twin engine airliner with a blue stripe and the Icelandic flag on the tail. It banked left and made another pass.

I had the radio sitting next to me. It squawked into life and a tinny voice said, "This is India-Charlie-Golf Tango-Foxtrot Sif. Identify yourself."

The ICG-TF Frigate Thor picked us up. We were only thirty miles off the south coast of Iceland. Nobody knew how we'd gotten there. We just appeared out of the blue on Sif's radar.

I had my suspicions. Our island had a mysterious cave called Hel, at least two Norse gods, the bridge to Asgard, and Valhalla. That isn't ordinary terrain.

So, it was probably not a feature on Google Earth. Still, I had bigger worries than speculating about whether we had visited another dimension. The absence of the priest would have to be explained.

We would have raised a bit of suspicion if we had told the authorities that Dani's dad had been killed by the Norse god Loki. So, instead we agreed to tell them that he had gone down with the sinking ship. It was the easiest and most plausible explanation.

The Thor took us to the Icelandic Coast Guard headquarters. It was a nice building, right next to the Reykjavik airport. They split us up to interview. I knew that was an interrogation tactic.

I got an older Icelandic guy. He didn't look like he was a member of the Coast Guard. He was with a blond woman. She was just as "official" looking; and the personification of icy beauty.

They both spoke English better than I did. Which I knew from experience was true of everybody in Iceland; including most of the Kindergarteners.

The dude started out by asking me a routine question. He said, "What is your name."

Damn!!! Let's get right to it. I said shamefaced, "Well, that's the problem. I don't know my name."

He got the bored look that every veteran interrogator gets when he has a wise-guy in front of him. He said, "And why won't you tell us your name? What do you have to hide?"

I thought, "Here we go again!!"

I put on my most sincere face and said, "I just woke up on that ship. I have no idea how I got there, who I am, or anything about my past." Both of them looked at their watches. It was like they were trying to decide how long it would take to beat the truth out of me.

I said pleadingly, "Look, I'll do anything to find out who I am. But right now, I am a man without a past. I don't care if I turn out to be an axe murderer. I just want to get on with my life."

I added miserably, "I had the same conversation with Captain Sorensen, after I was found unconscious on his ship. He believed me."

I said, "He put me to work as a steward to pay my passage. He was a decent guy."

Then it struck me, "Do you know what happened to the ship?" They both shook their heads no.

The woman said, "We heard a distress message. But the ship's transponder is not broadcasting."

I said, trying to be helpful, "We heard a big explosion just after I launched the lifeboat."

The older guy pounced on that. He said, "Why were you entrusted to run a lifeboat when you were such a mysterious individual?" It was as if I'd proved that I was lying by being put in charge of a lifeboat.

I said matter of fact, "They were very short staffed. So, they used me. They trusted me to carry out a simple task. Even a trained monkey can pull a lever."

I added exasperated, "Look, it's clear that you don't believe me, and I have no place to stay. Can't you at least get me to a hospital? Maybe the doctors can find out what's wrong with me and it will answer your questions"

It looked like they'd already decided that was what they were going to do. They may have even believed me. Or maybe they wanted to move on to more important matters. The older guy said, "We'll do that. But we want a complete set of finger prints."

The woman produced a scanner. It was a little bigger and thicker than an iPad. They took my fingerprints, thumb prints and hand prints. Then she said, "We are going to run this against every Interpol data base and also your FBI. You're an American, right?"

I said mildly, "I have no idea. My little friend tells me that I am. As far as I know I could be from the planet Mars." She looked a little frustrated. I realized that I'd just dodged a trap.

Landspitali University Hospital was so close to the Headquarters building that we walked there. My two newfound companions went along with me. I didn't get the impression that I was under arrest. But I DID get the impression that I was under deep suspicion.

Iceland has universal health care, so the admitting process was quick and easy. They found me a room and a neurologist to examine my head. They also added a psychiatrist. I understood. I would have done the same thing.

What was surprising was the fact that they put me in a single patient room. That is, until I noticed the plainclothes policeman loitering in the hall.

Dani appeared the following day. I was sitting fully clothed on the bed, trying to figure out how the TV worked. It was like the sun came out on a dark and dingy afternoon.

She was absolutely pure fresh beauty. But the thing I liked the best was her look of unadulterated love. Without exchanging a single word, we understood how much we meant to each other. My heart soared.

She said brightly, "I would have been here sooner, but they wouldn't let me see you. I had to ask the President of the Reykjavik Synod to intervene."

That was a first for me, "Divine intervention."

She was wearing a much tighter pair of jeans, which clearly embarrassed her. She said contritely, "I'm sorry about the way I'm dressed but I had to borrow clothing from the people who I'm staying with. This was all they had. Is it okay?"

She was asking me whether she looked too hot and sexy??! In her eyes that was a bad thing. In my eyes she was a five-one package of erotic.

Dani's body was superb. The jeans showed off her full and perfectly shaped legs, and her tight round hips. But the part that was prominently displayed were her two round jutting buns.

I smiled and said, "You're beautiful." She turned bright red with embarrassment. Her reaction further reinforced the wisdom of not sharing what I'd witnessed during her time under Loki's thrall.

She walked over and sat down on the bed next to me. She took my hand. She looked concerned. She said, "Why are you in the hospital? Did you hurt yourself."

Okay, it was time for all-in. I sighed and said, "I'm sorry but I haven't been entirely truthful with you. It's a crazy story and I didn't want you to think I'd lost my mind."

She looked both shocked and worried. I went on with, "I know I told you a story about my origins. But the truth is that I don't know who I am, or where I came from. I woke up on that ship without any memory whatsoever."

She looked horror stricken. I hastened to add, "I know a lot of things, but I have no personal memories."

I smiled and said lovingly, "I told you I was Nemo, a nobody, and it's true. I have no history. I know it's hard to believe. But that's the way it is."

I added tentatively, "I know I lied to you and I'm sorry. But I didn't know what else to do. I care for you very much and I want to make you mine."

Dani loved me. You could see it in the way her sweet face went from alarmed to protective. She said, her cute little pointed chin resolutely set, "It doesn't matter what you didn't tell me, we're together now. I'll be your lover and take care of you no matter who you are."

In her mind she was a virginal church girl. So, I was assuming she was using the word "lover" in the figurative sense, not the literal one. I smiled and said, "That's all I wanted to hear."

At which point - two men in black breezed in. They were a cliché, dark suits, polished shoes, spiffy hair-cuts, narrow faces and overbearing eyes. There was an old one and a young one. I assumed he was the apprentice asshole.

The older one said, in a voice that brooked no disagreement, "You'll have to leave Miss!"

Dani looked stricken. I was pissed. I said angrily, "Who says you can come in here and order people around? Dani stays, and YOU go."

The younger one laughed. The older one said, "Robert Parmentier, you are coming with us."

It was the fingerprints. Apparently, I was a person of universal interest. I started to protest but they each grabbed an arm and physically hustled me past Dani and out of the hospital.

They loaded me in a van. I said, "Seriously??!! An unmarked white van??!! Are you guys for real??!!"

Neither of them as much as cracked a smile. I looked behind me and Dani was standing on the sidewalk her hands covering her face in anguish. I said, "You have no right to treat me like this!!"

The older asshole muttered, "You gave us that right when you signed the oath Parmentier."

I said, "What oath? Who the fuck are you guys and what the fuck are you talking about?"

I got the basics on who Robert Parmentier was on the hour drive out to Keflavik.

My family had lived in Lewes Delaware since the 1700s and they had a history of military service dating back to the 1st Delaware Regiment of the Continental Army. So naturally, every male in the family-line wore the uniform - except me. That was because I had already been recruited.

It was a little unconventional. But there is a "Company" in Langley Virginia that recruits promising kids out of college for a very special business. They came to me, not the other way around. That's the way they do things.

I was a standout student and lacrosse player at Johns Hopkins. I fit a number of their criteria for language and travel and my family was prominent in the military. Apparently, somebody noticed.

I was twenty. So, after I graduated from Hopkins, I did the usual tradecraft course at Chantilly and the advanced course in Bethesda. Then they shipped me out to a special course at their North Carolina "Farm." That was where the black-ops people learn the finer points of the business, the sort of tricks they aren't allowed to talk about.

Of course, I remembered nothing of that, since my mind was still a total blank. I was particularly upset about how I had left Dani. I said, "That woman is very important to me. You had better be good to her if you want me to cooperate."

The two of them looked at each other and the young guy laughed. He said, "Did you clear that with your wife?"

Holy shit!!! I'd never thought of that!! My heart sank.

Rather than stopping at the terminal, we drove right through the tarmac gates and were waved over to a small private jet. I thought, "Who are these guys?"

The pilots were starting the engines as the three of us went up the boarding ramp. I said, "Where are we going?"

They laughed and said, "Where do you think we're going?" I didn't have a clue. I got a better clue when, we landed at London City airport, three hours of total silence later.

A car took us along the Thames and across the Vauxhall Bridge to a building that looked like a giant Lego Block. Not a word was said the whole trip.

I was hustled through security at the U.S. Embassy and up to a conference room. There were three people in the room. Two of them were senior looking bureaucrats and the third was absolutely gorgeous, tall, model slim, long raven hair, perfect oval face and huge expressive brown eyes.

She leapt to her feet and threw herself on me. I assumed this was the wife. She said, "My God Robert!! We all thought you were dead!!" Then she went off on a long soliloquy of weeping.

I felt nothing. My mind's eye was picturing Dani standing on the sidewalk crying. My grief was inexpressible. The guy at the head of the table said imperiously, "Sit down Robert, we need to talk."

I took the nearest chair. My "wife" sat down next to me still holding my hand. I looked at her. She was a rare olive-skinned beauty; like the night compared to Dani's day.

Dani radiated happiness and sunshine. This woman was dark, mysterious, I could sense secrets. But right how she was looking at me with a predator's stare. It was an intimidatingly direct and sexual challenge.

She was exceptionally well-groomed and dressed in couture clothing. I knew what couture was, even though I still didn't know how I knew that. She was also wearing a lot of expensive jewelry.

There was evidently money involved. I didn't know whether it was hers or mine. All I could think of was the simple outfits that my little rectory cat wore.

Then I realized that I didn't even know the woman's name. I turned to her and said, "I know that you're my wife and this might be hurtful to you. So, I'm sorry for asking. But I don't know your name."

She took that statement a lot better than I would have. She said without changing expression, "Vanessa."

I gave her an embarrassed grin and said lightly, "Pleased to meet you Vanessa." She gave me a forbidding smile in return.

The guy at the head of the table interrupted. He said, "You two can renew old acquaintances after we hear what you have to say Robert. According to the Icelandic authorities you were picked up in a lifeboat off their coast. Is that correct?"

I said, "Yes sir." I wasn't sure of my situation. So, I wasn't going to elaborate.

He waited, like he thought I would have more to say. Then he proceeded with, "And you claim that you have no memory of your life prior to waking up on the vessel that lifeboat was launched from."

I said, "Yes sir." I wanted to keep the ball in his court.

He said, probing, "Then you probably can't tell us what George has done with the one-time-pad SIMs - right?"

I knew what a SIM was. SIMs are tiny chip cards used in every mobile device in the modern world. They store stuff like network location and authorization data, or encryption and security keys. But I had no idea who George was, or what he might have done with their SIMs.

I looked earnestly at both men and said, "Gentlemen, I'm sorry. But my memory starts on the day I woke up on that ship. I don't know who George is, and I don't know why his SIMs are important."

The other man made an irritated noise and said, "Listen Parmentier, those SIMs have the one-time pad private key for every U.S. diplomatic mission in the world. If we lose them, we might as well publish our top-secret diplomacy and high-level military conversations in the local newspaper."

Then he added incredulously, "Do you mean to tell me that you don't know that Major General George Parmentier is your brother!!??"

He said disgusted, "We already know he took the SIMs. We've got him on camera doing it. So, you're not gaining anything by protecting him. But you ARE going to serve hard time if you don't give him up."

That was when Vanessa chose to add her two cents. She said, "Just tell them where George is Baby. I know you two were together the night he vanished. I can't believe that you were involved in the theft. You aren't daring enough. But George must have shared his plans with you."

Talk about throwing your husband under the bus. It was a touching display of spousal loyalty.

I grimaced and said, "It's obvious that you don't believe me. So, do whatever you have to do to prove it; lie-detector, CAT scan, what?"

Vanessa made an irritated noise and the two men just sat back angrily, arms folded across their chests. Finally, one of them said, "This is too vital to national security. So, we are going to book you into the NHNN. They'll sort it out there. But we had better get good news."

The same white van transported me back across the Thames to Great Ormond Street and the National Hospital for Neurology and Neurosurgery. I had the identical type of private room as the one in Iceland, with Frick and Frack posted-up outside the door. They must have gotten attached to me.

My loving wife had business elsewhere, or perhaps they wouldn't let her visit me. I remember thinking that Dani had resorted to divine intervention. Maybe Vanessa didn't know anybody holy enough?

Anyhow, that was a relief. I was getting some very bad vibes off that woman.

The next couple of days were busy. Each one featured testing, scanning and psychiatric interviews. The docs even tried hypnosis, which kicked me into a PTSD episode. They considered that "progress."

I couldn't remember anything meaningful. That is, if I consciously tried to do it. But I was starting to get flashes of explicit events. I told the docs what was happening, and they looked wise.

Apparently, there are a bunch of different kinds of memory and one of those is "episodic memory." Those were the memories I'd lost. Episodic memory has subcomponents and one of those is "emotional memory." That type of memory is very powerful, and it seemed to be tied to my PTSD event.

I knew the PTSD episode wasn't real. But it had an authentic feel about it, which was what I told the docs. They began to focus on something in my brain called my amygdala.

Also, getting so much basic personal information was beginning to rewire my brain. I knew that I was thirty-nine years old and had spent almost seventeen years working for the CIA. I knew that I lived in Dulwich Village with my wife Vanessa. I knew I could afford the two-million uplift on the mortgage because I had family money.

We had chosen Dulwich because it was convenient to the Embassy and Vanessa coveted the Victorian mansion that we lived in. I worked at the Embassy as a "Liaison Officer," which I knew was another word for Clandestine Service operative. By all accounts we were a perfect couple.

My brother George was older and more distinguished. At least that's what everybody in the family thought. He'd ridden the West Point, Afghanistan, Iraq merry-go-round to a high mucky-muck position on the strategic planning staff for US-EUCOM.

He was a confirmed bachelor and since he was stationed in Germany, he stayed with us on the holidays. Some of the returning flashes of memory were about him. I couldn't tease anything useful out of those moments. But my sense was that he was very dismissive of me as the younger brother.

My wife finally showed up late on the fourth day. She was made up to the nines and trailing a cloud of exotic perfume. It was like she had just come back from a date.

She was smiling brightly and full of cheerful concern. She laid a passionate kiss on me. Then she reached to fluff my pillows saying, "I'm here dear and I won't leave your side until you have fully recovered." Her words made me think of Dani.

Dani's loss was eating me up. I hoped my little rectory cat had moved on without too much pain. My last sight was her shining hair. Her head was down, and she was holding her hands over her face as she cried. Every time that image appeared, a crippling pang of regret hit me.

We had never said it, and we had very little time together to cement it. But I loved her heart and soul. I also recognized that Vanessa's presence eliminated any hope of ever making Dani mine.

Meanwhile Vanessa was settling in for the long-haul. The room had a small sleeping accommodation and she was laying out the contents of a roller-bag like she was moving into the Ritz. She said breezily, "I'll sleep here my love."

I tried to keep the disappointment off my face. I really didn't want Vanessa around. I didn't know whether it was because she continued to radiate condescension, or the fact that I was deeply in love with Dani. I said testily, "Did anybody mention when I can get out?"

She said, "The doctors say you're making progress. They think that you were poisoned by something called," and she hesitated like she was trying to pronounce it, "Phalloidin."

She added, "They're trying an experimental treatment to flush it out, with a drug called," and her brow wrinkled again, " ... something-Actin." That explained the drip that I'd had in my arm for the past three days.

I said, "Parts of my memory ARE returning."

She got an intensely focused look on her gorgeous face and said tersely, "How much do you remember."

I said, "I don't remember much so far. Maybe I never will. But there are flashes of scenes from my recent past."

I added, "I haven't been able to hold on to the memories long enough to make much sense of them. But I am definitely starting to recall happenings prior to my waking up on that ship."

She said idly, "Does any of that include the SIMs? They'll let you out if you can remember what happened to them."

I got the feeling she was pushing me, probing. I said, "The memories are sliding-by too fast for me to hold on to. But the progression is starting to slow down. I'm sure I'll dredge up whatever they need sooner or later. In the meantime, tell us about our life together."

Vanessa was Irish, from Cork, and we had met in London at the Mahiki Mayfair. We had been married for seven years. It was a whirlwind courtship that led to a classic Irish country wedding.

My attraction to her wasn't hard to understand. Vanessa was a rare Celtic beauty, ideal facial features, a model's slim, supple body on a five-foot-seven frame. She also radiated the sort of primitive sexual hunger you'd normally associate with human sacrifices.

She told me that I'd said that I worked at the Embassy on HUMINT coordination for the countries that act as buffer states between NATO and the Russians. She said somewhat disdainfully, "It was in an analyst's role, not a field agent."

She added that I HAD been on a number of trips to places like Estonia, Ukraine and Belarus to gather data. There was something in that part of her story that didn't ring true. Or, perhaps I'd told her that to cover-up my actual role.

Our marriage only reinforced the idea that we were both too in love with ourselves to possibly love anybody else. As she described it, our life together one of decadence. I had inherited family money and we were industriously trying to spend every penny.

But it was my brother George who was the true Lord of the Manor. Apparently, he was larger than life. He was in the military, so he didn't spend as lavishly as we did. But he always brought extravagant gifts for Vanessa on his visits; and he visited often.

According to Vanessa, I worshiped George as my older brother and he loved me. Perhaps that was true. But I had the impression that he treated me with contempt, probably because I wasn't in the military.

Vanessa was just wrapping up when the nurse arrived to give me my nightly sleeping medicine. It was some kind of heavy-duty horse-pill meant to drug me like an animal. The first time I took it, it put me in la-la land for nine full hours and I was hung over for half the next day.

I told the nurse that I didn't want it. But Vanessa said, still focusing intently, "Take it baby, it might help you get your memory back. I'll be here all the time."

I didn't want to argue. So, I popped the pill under my tongue and took a big swig of water. Then, as I furtively palmed the pill and dropped it into the bedding I was thinking, "I must have learned a few things down on the Farm."

I was wakened shortly thereafter by a glowing cell phone. I heard Vanessa's whispered voice say, "I had them give him Midazolam. He's out-cold."

There was conversation on the other end and she said, "God, I miss you too baby. But we have to get those SIMs and he's the only one who knows where he hid them."

There was some more conversation and I heard my wife say in a flirty voice, "Okay, I'll meet you in Queen Square Garden in twenty minutes. But it's going to have to be a quickie. I love you."

She looked in my direction. My eyes were closed. I was tracking her by sound not sight.

Vanessa rose and walked quietly out of the room. I could hear her heels clicking off down the hall. I jumped out of bed and rummaged around in the closet. My clothes were in there, neatly stored in a plastic bag.

I stuck my head out. Neither Frick, nor Frack, was there. They probably went home once the hospital staff knocked me out for the night. I crept down the hall, waited until the nurse at the station had turned her back. Then I scampered down the stairs and out the door.

Vanessa was just disappearing into the lush foliage of Queen Square Garden, which was directly across the street. I crept after her.

She never noticed. Of course, why would she even look? Her clueless husband was lying drugged in a bed in the hospital behind her.

Vanessa walked past the statue of Queen Charlotte. Charlotte was George IIIs wife. Yep, he's the guy mentioned in the Declaration of Independence. George was off his rocker for a good part of his reign and the neurological hospital was built to treat him. Charlotte was the sponsor. Hence the statue.

My wife stopped in the open area. She was looking around excitedly when a shadowy figure emerged from behind the statue. He walked silently up behind her and put his arms around her. Vanessa sighed and melted back into him. Then she turned inside his grasp and they shared an ardent kiss. My damaged synapses began firing and I knew that the figure was my long-lost brother George.

Perhaps it was the treatment kicking in, or maybe it was the sight of my brother and my wife locked in passionate embrace. But the dam broke and a cascade of memories poured out. I remembered EVERYTHING.

I could see the sneer on George's face as he told me about the death-cap mushroom. Vanessa and I had been dining with him at his Thames-side pied-a-terre. He was stationed in Stuttgart. Only my wife and I knew about the London residence.

Vanessa was in a long revealing black silk gown. Her dusky skin was like satin. George and I were in formal attire. We weren't going to the opera. We dressed that way because we were pretentious assholes.

George said gleefully, "Well little brother, I've finally gotten my hands on something that is going to put me where I rightfully belong."

He reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo jacket and produced a black ballistic nylon holder. It was like a big fat notebook, which was folded over itself several times. Then, he gleefully handed it to me. He loved to show-off.

Unfolding it I discovered that it was full of dozens of neatly organized SIM cards; the kind that you put in cell-phones and tablets. I said, "What's this bro?"

He laughed and said, "These are the keys for Sippernet's one-time-pad encryption."

That was stunning. Anybody who had those SIMs could decode any message sent on the U.S.'s most secure military network.

I looked at him aghast and said, "What are you doing with those??!!"

He said condescendingly, "I borrowed them from DISA. It's amazing how easy it is for a two-star to walk into-and-out of a military facility"

I said horrified, "If they catch you with these, you're going to get life in Leavenworth."

Vanessa laughed scornfully and said with pride in her voice, "George is going to be one of the richest men in Russia."

The arrogant d-bag had always had delusions of grandeur. Apparently being a rich and successful military man wasn't enough. He wanted to be an Oligarch.

The perfidious bitch added brightly, "It's already arranged. But first we need to do something about you."

This was too much. I looked at her astounded. I said, "You knew about this??!!"

She laughed contemptuously and said, "It was my idea you fool. I'm going to Russia with him. We've been lovers since the day we met." That was seven years ago at the wedding!!

Vanessa said sneering, "George is just so much more of a man than you are." Then she added, with a twinkle in her eye, "And I could never resist a guy in uniform."

She looked at me with fond disdain and said, "You had your uses. But I deserve so much more. Now I'm going to have it all."

What do you say when your wife announces a betrayal of that magnitude? I should have guessed that Vanessa was behind George's blatant act of treachery. He wasn't smart enough.

I just sat there open mouthed, unable to react. I finally stuttered, "Why are you telling me this now?" God!! I sounded like such a hopeless weenie.

George laughed scornfully and said, "Because we need you as a distraction, old boy." My two-timing wife tittered. Apparently, she found my ruination funny.

My temper was getting the best of me. I looked at the adulterous pair. George might be the military man. But he was soft, from far too much time behind a desk. I had been a field agent for seventeen years and I knew I could take him down.

I said teeth gritted, "I'll kill both of you before I let that happen." That was the point where a tidal wave of agony broke over me.

I must have cried out because George looked across the table and said placidly, "That's a death-cap mushroom, old-boy. They've been using it to get rid of inconvenient people since Roman times."

He added, "That's how the Emperor Claudius was removed from office." Then he laughed at his pedantic little joke. My brother really was a self-important asshole.

He added, "It was extra garnish on your steak. We added it just for you. When they break in looking for me, all they're going to find is you. You can try to explain where your wife and and I've gone."

Then he got a gleeful look and said, "Oh wait ... I forgot ... you won't be able to remember your own name – that is, if you manage to live. It will slow them down for a while."

My world narrowed to a pinprick and there was blackness. I awoke a short time later. I was lying on the kitchen floor in a big pool of vomit. The involuntary puking might have saved me. I got on my hands and knees and threw-up some more. I was confused. But I knew that I had to get out of there.

Wild fucking sounds were emanating from down the hall. I recognized the moans. The two of them must have decided to knock off a quick piece before they fled the country. London City Airport was just a few miles to the west and I'd wager there was a private jet waiting.

I levered myself to my feet holding onto a chair. The black ballistic folder was right in front of me. I wasn't thinking clearly. But I still knew that it was the key to screwing over my brother. So, I grabbed it as I stumbled out the door.

I knew the effects of the mushroom were going to get to me sooner than later, and I had no plan. But I saw a warehouse area with a lot of people directly across the street. The place was lit up like a circus and they seemed to be loading a big merchant ship.

I needed help fast. So, I lurched across the street. Luckily there was no traffic at that hour. Once I got inside the warehouse, I grabbed the first person I saw and said desperately, "Help me!!"

The guy saw a drunken toff in a vomit stained tux. He said disgusted, "Get your hands off me, mate!!" He gave me a big shove and I staggered some distance.

I fell at the foot of the boarding ramp. Maybe there was somebody on board who'd be able to help me? All I could feel was intense pain. The poison was taking its malevolent toll. I stumbled up the gangplank, reeling so drunkenly that I almost went over the rail.

I had just gotten into a passageway when the world started to spin. I lurched sideways, fell through a hatch and into a dark compartment. I was unable to walk. But a ventilator shaft was poking out of the deck right in front of where I'd fallen.

I fumbled the folder out of my tux coat, pulled out all of the SIMs and stuffed them down the ventilator shaft. I thought, "Good luck finding THOSE George."

I chuckled at the thought of the dismay chez-Parmentier when the two of them discovered that their ticket to Russia had disappeared. Then there was a roaring noise and nothing but blackness.

I slipped back across the street and into the hospital. Vanessa and George were just beginning their pas-de-deux. She was using Queen Charlotte's statue as a prop.

Did I feel anything seeing my wife getting rear-ended, while bracing her hands against the bronze feet of King George's wife? I did indeed. I felt liberated and happy beyond belief.

Now, there was no barrier between me and Dani; except a quick divorce.

Frack was standing outside my door now. The junior guy always gets the short end of the stick. He did a double-take when he saw me. Then he glanced inside the room. Frack wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer.

I said jovially, "If you want George, he's across the street. But you'd better act fast. I can't guarantee his staying power." Talk about coitus interruptus.

Frack was fumbling for his walkie-talkie as I breezed past with a cheerful, "I'll be inside getting packed." I had a little lost rectory cat to find.

My overwhelming desire for Dani defied logic. It sure wasn't the sex. Up to that point the most carnal thing I had done with her was to carry her naked through a pitch-black cave. Okay - if you want to get technical, there was also that little show in the mead-hall.

Still, I couldn't think of a single instance when my feelings for my present wife were within light-years of the way I felt about Dani. I don't know if I EVER loved Vanessa. I might have loved being fucked by her. That was another matter entirely. But Dani was my eternal destiny.

The blue lights of the London police were brightening my window as I exited the hospital room. I said in a newfound voice of authority, "I know where the SIMs are and they're safe. Take me back to the Embassy and I'll connect the dots for you."

Two weeks later I was in Dulwich Village. I was sitting on our big brick terrace in the buttery English summer sun. Emotionally, I'd been to the penthouse, now I was back in the outhouse.

First, I briefed my bosses. The CIA accepted that the SIMs were safe; two miles under the Atlantic. Of course, it took three polygraphs to convince them.

Then I resigned. Life's too short to suffer assholes and I had plenty of money now that my brother was out of the will.

Speaking of said asshole. George dropped completely off the radar. I was sure that the treacherous bastard was enjoying the CIA's hospitality at some cozy little rendition site; where his black-ops jailers could share a few pertinent thoughts about the consequences of treason.

Meanwhile, the whore, formerly-known-as my wife, had been desperately trying to get ahold of me. It seems that she had recently rediscovered her passion for our marriage. Perhaps Vanessa's newfound feelings were inspired by the circumstance of six London Bobbies witnessing her in an act of "gross-public-indecency."

I studiously avoided slutbreath until all the pieces hit the ground. I knew that I couldn't avoid her forever. But it took a while to get all of the ducks in marching order.

I appeared on Vanessa's porch one bright English morning. The slut had been squatting at our house in Dulwich. She cracked the door, gave me a triumphant smile and said, "I knew you'd finally come to your senses."

That made it easy. I stepped aside and let Frick and Frack do their thing.

I had explained Vanessa's complicity to my former employers. To say the least, they were NOT amused. Naturally, there would be a trial. Ours is a civilized society. However, it was a given that Vanessa would be enjoying the hospitality of the Federal government until then. I didn't think the summer heat at their woman's super-max in Texas would do good things for her complexion, or her attitude.

Thus, the last time I saw my soon-to-be-ex-wife, she was being unceremoniously stuffed into one of those ubiquitous white vans. My goodness!! what a mouth on that girl!!

Now, all that was left was to find Dani and propose.

... And the Gods laughed...

I had last seen Dani on the steps of Landspitali. That was almost a month ago. It should have been a simple matter of looking her up. Except, I didn't know her last name. It had been expedient to NOT get into last names, since I didn't have one at the time.

First, I called the Lutheran Synod in Reykjavik and asked about the woman from the boat. The nice lady told me that Dani had left right after I was hustled out of Landspitali. The woman said, "I don't know where she went. She was hysterical with grief. We were afraid she would harm herself. But we couldn't prevent her from leaving."

So, I was sitting there in my empty manse, one that I absolutely loathed, with no idea where the love of my life had gotten off to. It was summer, and I was wearing a Henley and a pair of boat shorts, topsiders on my feet. The thick silver chain with Thor's hammer was draped on my chest, just as it had been from the moment Odin gave it to me.

Then I remembered his words, "It will grant a wish if it is truly worthy." I couldn't think of anything worthier than reuniting me with my lost love. So, I gripped the hammer tightly, closed my eyes and wished as hard as I could; it was faintly reminiscent of the scene where Peter Pan heals Tinkerbell.

I had a vision of a neat little English rectory surrounded by a beautifully manicured garden. There was a lovely young woman tending the daffodils. She looked hopelessly sad.

A couple of hours later, my Audi TT RS was ripping up the M3 headed for Winchester and the south coast. I had a location. I had a name.

The surrounding village had the quaintness of a place that had been around since before the time of The Conqueror. The rectory was like something out of GK Chesterton.

My heart was in my throat as I made my way up the crushed gravel path. My whole world rested on one throw of the dice. The summer birds were singing, the sky was blue, the air was warm, and I was praying that Dani wouldn't set the hounds loose on me.

The rectory itself had an old-fashioned bell. I rang it. A kindly older woman answered. I knew who she was thanks to Thor's Hammer. She was the wife of Dani's, father's, brother.

She looked at me inquiringly. I said in my politest tone, "Could I please speak to your niece, ma'am? I'm a friend of hers and I need just a moment to talk to her."

The older woman's face broke out in a beatific smile. It was like she had been expecting me all along. She said, "Danae is out in the garden. She spends most of her time out there tending her flowers and waiting for you." My heart soared up into the trees and joined the songbirds in a joyful chorus.

She pointed to an arched gate in a Victorian era wall. I could see the tops of hollyhocks, azaleas and black-eyed-Susans above the ivy-covered bricks.

I said humbly, "Thank you," and turned and headed down the path into the garden."

Dani's flowerbeds were a festival of English delights, neatly tended, with perfectly manicured leaves and a white crushed gravel path.

There was a golden headed vision sitting on the ground at the end of the path. She was wearing a light blue dress and a white apron, a wide-brimmed straw hat with a yellow ribbon was laid in the grass next to her. She had on green garden gloves and she was intently focused on trimming the lower leaves of a bed of hydrangeas.

I walked a couple of steps up the path and said gently, "Hello Dani." She raised her eyes disbelieving. Her face went from miserable, to hopeful, to overjoyed in an instant. She jumped to her feet spilling her garden tools as she did.

She looked puzzled, but radiantly beautiful in her dirty white apron. Then she put her hands over her face and began to cry – women!!!

I closed the distance between us and took her in my arms. I said, "I know it's been horrible but it's all over now."

She continued to weep. I kissed the top of her head and said, "There were some things that I had to get behind me. It wasn't a situation I could control. But everything's resolved now, and I can spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

She turned her tear-stained face up to me and I could see the answer in her eyes. What does a man really need in life, besides one person who you love beyond yourself, and who loves you in the same way? Then you can face anything.

I'd fought the Midgard Serpent for her. I'd even wrestled my own bureaucracy; which in many ways is far more powerful and treacherous. Death would be the only thing that would separate us now.

Dani and I were married in her Uncle's church. That event came exactly two days after the Degree Absolute. Her cousins and her aunt were the only witnesses.

I watched my wife walk up the aisle blushing furiously. She was a humbly self-conscious little woman. Her eyes never left mine. They were infinite pools of love and loyalty. The promise of a happy life shone from them.

Dani was wearing a white linen dress and a pair of four-inch white heels. It had a square cut neckline and was fitted down to just above her knees. It wasn't a fancy wedding outfit. It was a simple, modest and sensible thing, just like the woman who wore it.

The heels were meant to put her closer to my height. That was one more of her more endearing foibles. Dani's very insecure about how small she is. The heels only made her slim muscular calves even more attractive and there was no disguising that fabulous body under the dress.

Dani's eyes never left mine as we said the words. She had insisted on a simple ring, not the jewel encrusted wonder that Vanessa had demanded. Vanessa's diamond would've sunk the Titanic.

I slipped the ring on Dani's finger and we had a chaste kiss. After all, her aunt and uncle were standing there. I looked down at her face. Tears of happiness were streaming down her cheeks. We shared another sweet kiss. It promised a greater love than I could have ever hoped for.

I'd gotten rid of the Dulwich mansion during the six months that we were waiting for the final decree. That benighted place was owned by a pretentious d-bag and his slut wife. All of that foolishness was behind me now. I was prepared to open the next chapter with a woman who truly loved me, and I was a much better man for it.

I bought a beautiful thatched crofters' cottage on the cliffs near Lyme Regis. It was like something out of Thomas Hardy; a hundred acres of scenic beauty, complete with sturdy well-maintained outbuildings, a pen full of sheep and tenants to take care of everything.

Then I dropped another couple of hundred-thousand quid on making the place into a fairy tale. I had sold Vanessa's ghastly mansion for double what I had originally paid for it. So, in essence my first wife's taste for luxury was underwriting my little rectory cat's happy home.

The cottage itself dated to Wordsworth's time. But the walls were thick whitewashed stone and the floors were hewn out of durable English oak. Everything inside was fully modernized, plumbing, electrical, heating and cooling. But we still opened the windows as often as we could, to feel the sea breeze and listen to the soothing sound of the endlessly breaking waves.

Our first married night was a revelation. Dani wouldn't permit anything more than avid kissing and a little fondling until we had actually taken the vows. She said that she wanted to come to me as a virgin. It was a long six months of bright blue balls. But I never betrayed her secret.

Dani isn't an ostentatious frilly nighty sort of girl. On her wedding night, she tip-toed shyly out of our little en-suite completely naked. The ambient light from the full moon illuminated every plane and nuance of her incredible body.

She looked nervous but steadfast. It was like her love was a gift and she was determined to give it to me.

I had seen her body before. But there'd been a few minor distractions; like a room full of drunken Vikings and a highly-possessive demi-god. Now I was seeing my new wife in her bountiful glory. It was a vision beyond reckoning.

Dani has a truly beautiful face, in a classic, round, high cheekboned, big eyed, fresh-country-girl way. But her succulent mouth is her most erotic feature. Her lips are like little pillows stuffed with sensuality. Their lushness hints at the sexual animal crouching below the surface.

She rushed giggling to the bed, running in that hippy female way. Her big firm breasts bounced in a hundred different directions as she slid under the covers. I could feel the heat radiating from her body.

She turned to face me with a big sigh of contentment; one huge boob draped over the other. Her luminous eyes were anxious. She said hesitantly, "Is this what you expected – what you want?"

Thank God for female insecurities. I'm richer than the average guy, with a more "interesting" background. But an incandescent beauty like Dani's is a rarity. She was much more than I deserved, and I knew it. More importantly, I also knew that she was mine, and mine alone.

I got up on one elbow and looked down the length of her body. She was the female contradiction; petite in some places, and bountiful in others, both soft and hard. The feeling of those hot floating breasts smashed against my chest was like nothing I had ever experienced.

I said, "You are perfect. I love you in your youthful beauty and I will love you when you're a wrinkled old crone. That's because the spirit that lives in this body is forever."

My new wife made one of those inarticulate woman noises. It indicated that I'd either given her the right answer, or she couldn't wait any longer, or maybe both?

Anyhow, she crooked a surprisingly strong arm behind my neck and dragged me down to her mouth. It was wide open and white hot. It told me that the woman I had seen in Loki's mead-hall was about to make an appearance. Only this incarnation wasn't summoned by enchantment. It was Dani's absolute desire to give herself to me body and soul.

I've had an admittedly wide and checkered sexual history. But Dani's kisses are like no other woman's. Her lips are alive when she kisses you; constantly moving twisting turning, nipping. That phenomenon more than anything else, conveys her sexual hunger.

We kissed enthusiastically for a few minutes. But it was plain that Dani's motor was revving, and she was getting impatient. It was ironic really. I was the bon-vivant with the long string of wanton women and Dani was the alleged quasi-virgin. But I was the one who was hesitating.

She made an exasperated noise and transferred my free hand to one firm floating breast. The boob was a lot more than a mere handful. The big brown nipple was hot, and bright angry red. I tweaked it. Dani groaned with sensation and absolutely freaked-out.

Her head rocked back, and her mouth opened in a scream that was so loud that it probably set off a stampede in the sheep pens. Then she began to frantically worm her body underneath me. It was pure mindless instinct on Dani's part. In fact, I remember thinking, "A more sophisticated woman would have handled this a little less directly."

That was my last rational thought. Because I was suddenly lying on top of a wild woman. Dani might have been an inexperienced girl. But she knew what she wanted, and she knew exactly where to put it. That's instinct too.

She reached between us and jammed me into her boiling, highly lubricated inner self. Naturally there was no obstruction. She'd already lost that.

I slid right to the top. It happened without hesitation, or pain. The look on her face was surprise – for a second. Then it turned to sheer lust, as she felt a cock inside her for the first time; at least one that she could remember.

She gasped loudly. Her legs shot straight up in the air and then out to the side, in an outrageously wide "V." She held me there at the very top, not moving, making a constant high-pitched whine of mindless physical sensation.

Then she began to undulate. That was instinct too. She wanted to feel the movement inside herself. I started out with long slow strokes until she increased the pace, all-the-while emitting short shrieks of mounting arousal.

The feeling of heat, the squishing sounds and the hormonal smells were getting both of us to the end of the line faster than I wanted. So, I slowed a bit. She opened her eyes questioningly. Then the first orgasm hit her like the proverbial truck.

Her eyes rolled back into her head. Her body bent into a bow, every muscle was rock hard with strain and she began a series of rhythmic moans of increasing intensity, finishing with a frantic scream. I could feel the matching contractions as she writhed out of control.

When she finally stopped shivering, I moved to turn her over. She looked puzzled. I wasn't in a mood to wait so I grabbed her tight muscular flanks and impatiently flipped her face down on the pillow, her perfect round ass elevated high in the air.

That was something new. She made a loud, surprised grunt when I entered her, and her shining sheaf of blond hair flipped outward in a dense cloud, up and back over her shoulders. Her hips elevated even higher. She widened her stance and grabbed the rails of the brass bed for leverage. Then she began to actively push back, while rotating her hips to feel the new sensation.

Her two big buns were perfect, round and so firm that they didn't ripple when I slammed into her. As the tempo increased her moans got even more agitated. Finally, I reached around to give her a finger to suck on. She was frantically sucking on the finger when the next orgasm hit, and I almost lost its tip.

Her legs crumpled as her incredible apple shaped ass began to writhe in an ecstasy of erotic sensation. I'd reached the limit myself and I collapsed on top of my new wife, cumming like the Midnight Express. Then there was a short period where neither of us were rational.

As soon as I calmed down, I realized that I was crushing her. So, I rolled to one side. Dani was still on her front. She lay on her stomach quivering and moaning, still clutching the brass bars of the headboard. I was lying on my back on our trashed sheets, gasping and sweating.

There was a moment's hesitation. Then she popped her head up looking devastated. She'd just fucked our mutual brains out. What was this?

She said almost crying, "I'm sooooo sorry. I have no idea what came over me. What must you think of me, acting so wanton?"

That was just sooooo Dani!! I actually laughed out loud. She looked even more crushed. I was ashamed of myself. This was something that was important to her.

I said with all the sincerity I could muster, "That was the two of us connecting at the most fundamental level my love. The passion that we share is a physical reflection of the feelings that we have for each other. And those feelings are obviously very powerful"

I asked, "Could you do that with anybody else?"

She looked at me like I'd lost my mind and said angrily, "Of course not. This body is yours, and only yours. I would never share it with another man. That would violate every tenet of my beliefs."

I said, "So your incomparable passion is your marriage gift to me?"

She got it. She looked at me tenderly and said, "As many times as you want it. For the rest of our lives; till death do we part."

Dani really loved children. We had four. They were a handful. But they were also the joy of our lives. Each of them is successful now. Dani made that happen. She was the rock on which our happiness was founded.

A woman's single-minded devotion to her family is vastly undervalued in our egocentric society. Still, the lives that Dani made better through her humble, unpretentious goodness, might convince the most self-involved asshole, among the politically-correct, that there's more to life than kicking ass and taking names.

Dani believed in the value of self-sacrifice and she took humble pleasure in making everybody else's life better. She could have been anything she wanted to be. But she wanted to be a wife and mother.

She worked harder at that job than any career driven diva and she didn't care whether anybody acknowledged her effort. All she cared about was that her husband and her children were happy.

Most of the time she was gracious and unassuming. But she was never close to subservient. Especially, if any fool messed with her loved ones. Then my shy little rectory cat would transform into a rabid Bengal tiger with a thorn in its ass.

Dani never lost her exquisite beauty. It just aged, like fine wine. On social occasions, all conversation would stop when my wife entered the room. The attention embarrassed her. Especially since she'd done nothing special with her appearance. She was just that spectacularly gorgeous.

Men would flock around her. But there was never a question who owned her heart. Dani didn't need to go out of her way to make that point. It was just so blatantly evident in every glance and gesture. A lot of men envied me. But I never took Dani's loyalty for granted. I worked very hard to let her know how much she was loved in return.

Dani also kept her legendary inner fire. I relished that gift until I was too ancient to get the booster out to the pad. Still, even in our old age she'd manage to occasionally launch the poor decrepit thing.

It was sunset. The two of us were sitting on a Lutyens bench, surrounded by a dense arbor of boxwood and morning glories. The arbor's embrace was fragrant, private and peaceful. We were at the top of our property. From there, we could see the booming waves at the foot of the cliffs.

It was Dani's favorite spot. I had carried her up there wrapped in a blanket, even though it was a warm summer day. She was only seventy-seven and she would normally outlive me. But she'd been handed a dire diagnosis and she was too weak to walk now.

I wasn't remotely afraid of death. I'd lived a long and rewarding life with one of God's kindest and most loving creatures. But I was absolutely terrified at the thought of losing her.

So, I took Odin's necklace from around my neck and pressed Thor's hammer into Dani's palm. Then I took her frail little hand and closed it inside mine. I said, "This necklace grants a wish if you want it badly enough."

Dani looked at me intently. Her face reflected the shining beauty of the spirit that lived behind her eyes. She said, "And what do you wish for my love?"

My voice shook with emotion as I said, "I want the two of us to leave this world together. I couldn't bear life without you."

Dani's gentle eyes misted with tears. She squeezed her hand around the talisman as she whispered, "Me neither."

And so, it came to pass. Two old people sat side-by-side in the fading light of a beautiful English evening. Their hands were lovingly clasped, and their eyes were tightly closed, as Odin granted them one last worthy and heartfelt wish.

The End