Les Mousquetaires – Chapter 7 (Freyja’s Privilege) Part 1
“Reclaim that which was stolen.” Exe
“Even with the Catholics, and the Russians, and the Chinese, and the Wolves, by my calculations you’re still short. By what? Twenty-thousand harvesters. Because if you want to circumvent the entire planet – which is the only way this plan works, mind you, you’re gonna need twenty-thousand more,” Elu said, as the small group sat and discussed the redhead’s plan.
“Yes, we’re still short - nineteen-thousand harvesters,” the pale woman said with a smile, a sad sorta smile that spoke of too much heartbreak to elaborate just then.
And so she got up and went outside, and stood on the balcony that overlooked the South Pacific ocean far-far below.
“You mean to ask him, don’t you?” Elu asked a moment later, as she came to stand by the much smaller woman’s side.
“Yes, though this is not how I would have had it. Not at all,” Lynnette said, through a thick rush of tears.
Elu, the elegant Zulu warrior woman of much local legend, put a comforting hand on the older woman’s back.
“He will fight,” the graceful woman said, by way of comfort.
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the redhead confessed. And then she wiped away her tears, and swallowed her pride, and strode back into the small clandestine meeting.
“We need Ragnar. There’s no other way,” she told the group, who had all guessed as much, though nobody had wanted to say.
“That crazy motherfucker won’t do it,” Benny said then, by way of a smart-ass quip, because technically speaking he was the dimmest bulb in the room
“I’m not going to give him a choice,” the redheaded former Secretary of the UN said in a tone that implied she very much believed what she was saying.
“And the Fólkvangar?” Bruce asked then, because of all of them at the table, it was he who understood best what they were facing with Ragnar and his men, the Fólkvangar.
“They will stand the line, for Freyja’s privilege,” Lynnette told him with the smallest of nods, which he somewhat reluctantly returned.
“What’s the deal with Ragnar anyway? I just thought he was a tough SOB. Why all the drama?” Tiglath asked then, as he’d never really been one to keep up on other people’s gossip.
With a sigh, it was Omaha who explained.
“The second pandemic hit them the hardest. Because them Nordic countries are all so goddamn homogeneous, when it struck it took almost all of their women. And… well… Ragnar is the result. Him, and his men, who all strictly adhere to a moral code that has been laid down, and is entirely overseen, by his mistress and goddess, Frejya,” he told the older man in the long white braids.
“I think I remember this story. Wasn’t the UN trying to airlift them some vaccines in time – when the president’s envoy caused the entire shipment to be destroyed?” he asked, innocently enough.
Which caused Bruce to wince, and then step back away from the group. Because honestly, he knew this story better than anyone, and so he decided just then it was his turn to step outside on the deck.
“Yes. And Bruce was responsible for making that call, on behalf of the Secret Service. However, he was only following orders, and if he hadn’t he would have been replaced instantly and someone else would’ve given those same orders. And it’s only because Bruce made that call and stayed at his post that later on he was able to save many-many lives, that would otherwise have been lost. So, that’s enough about that, let’s move on.”
“So, is this goddess Frejya of his a real person we have to deal with, or what?” Tiglath asked of anyone that would answer.
And it was Elu who smiled and then explained, “It’s believed that she’s only a figment of an insane man’s rather vivid imagination. However, we’ve all seen things we can’t exactly explain. Especially since the visitors arrived.”
And at that, everyone nodded in agreement. Because it was true, the world had gotten extremely weird, extremely fast, after the alien visitors had arrived.
“So, what’s the plan then? We can’t open communication channels directly with them without being overheard.”
“I need to go and speak to him, personally,” Lynnette told Omaha, as she was hoping he’d be the one to escort her.
Omaha looked over at his wife, for council and for support. But they were always so linked, so of-a-mind, it had only been a gesture, because he already knew her answer.
And so, the well dressed man with the larger than life gun on his hip smiled and nodded his head.
“Then Elu, I need you to gather your Wind Witches and everyone else you can, to help spread the word. But remember, this is outside UN protocol – so, they will try to stop us any chance they get.
Elu, however, didn’t need to be reminded how bureaucracy always preferred to hunt down a perpetrator over building strong alliances. And that had always been its major flaw, and the paramount reason nothing ever got better under its rule.
“I’ll do my best,” the elegant woman with the skin as dark as night said, just before she took her husband into her arms and hugged him for all he was worth.
“You be careful out there, you hear?” she asked him, just as she was letting him go.
But the man would not be let go of that easily, and so he pulled his woman into his arms and held her tight, as he said, “To the moon and back again, nothing will ever stop me from coming home to you.”
And with that, he gave her an incredible kiss, one that made everyone else blush, and then he swept up his backpack and said, “Let’s be off then. Because there’s a major storm surge heading straight for Oslo. And Ragnar will be right in the thick of it.”
© Raena Exe 2021
*Inspired by life.
*All characters, places, and events are completely fictional.
*All rights reserved.
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