Books, mythology, Philosophy

Terms…

*

…It was midnight before the Evil One came down

out of the mountains and made his way to Baugi’s farm.

*

He introduced himself, claimed he had been walking all day,

then asked for a meal, and to stop over in one of Baugi’s barns.

*

“What a time to come calling,” snorted Baugi.

“Is something wrong,” asked the Evil One, affecting concern.

*

“My farmhands have been killed,” said Baugi banging his fist into a wall.

The farmhouse shuddered.

“All nine of them!”

“I have an idea,” said the Evil One, “I will cover for them.”

*

Baugi looked the Evil One up and down, incredulously,

and then he grinned, “What wages would you want?”

“One sip of Suttung’s mead,” said the Evil One.

*

Baugi shook his head, “the mead is my brother’s, I have no claim on it.”

“To be a poet,” mused the Evil One, ignoring him, “is by far the finest thing.”

“No one save Gunnlod has ever seen a drop of the mead,” said Baugi firmly, “that is how it is.”

*

“Those are my terms,” said the Evil One, turning to leave.

“I could talk to Suttung,” said Baugi, “Work

the summer through and I’ll see what I can do.”

 

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