Valkyrie

By Harry Hutchins

As far as she knew, Christine was an ordinary girl with a BFF and a boyfriend, a high school athlete now attending a community college. She loved her stepfather, but then she learned that her actual father was Odin, leader of the Norse pantheon. Her world became larger, and her life became more interesting and sometimes more dangerous.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fulton Books, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781637106013

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Valkyrie

Harry Hutchins

Copyright © 2021 Harry Hutchins

All rights reserved

First Edition

Fulton Books, Inc.

Meadville, PA

Published by Fulton Books 2021

ISBN 978-1-63710-600-6 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63710-601-3 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

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1

The dreams didn’t begin until after finals in early May, the end of Christine’s first year at Thorstein Community College. In the first dream, she kept hearing someone calling her by the name Gudrun. She knew there had been more to the dream than that, but all she could remember was that name.

She told Margo about it. Margo was her best friend from high school, now also attending the community college. Margo was little, left-handed, and cute with immaculate short, dark hair while Christine was somewhat taller and right-handed with long blond hair that she sometimes remembered to brush. Christine (and various other women) sometimes envied Margo’s tiny waist while Margo (and many other women) often envied Christine’s ability to eat anything she liked without any effect on her fitness or figure.

So do you know anyone named Gudrun? asked Margo.

Sure, she said, it’s my own middle name: Christine Gudrun Miller. Usually no one mentions it.

Is it a family name?

No, she said, I think my mother told me my father, not Henry, my actual father, suggested it.

Henry was her stepfather ever since she was two years old, and she couldn’t imagine loving a real father more.

Ah, that makes sense, Margo said. Christine knew what was coming. Margo had just taken a psychology course, and she had dived headlong into some of the extra reading about the interpretation of dreams. You must have been thinking about him. That’s the connection.

Christine didn’t think so, but she knew there was no point in arguing about it.

The same dream came back, and then, a couple of days later, she had a vivid dream about traveling high in the air, on a bridge made of vivid colors, on horseback. Afterward she could remember the wind rushing by and the horse’s mane blowing about, and she could remember the view from a great height. It didn’t make much sense to her, as horses certainly could not fly. When she told Margo about it, Margo was sure she knew what it was.

It must be a sex dream, said Margo. It’s very standard stuff. When a woman dreams about riding a horse bareback, it always has to do with sex.

Oh, I don’t think so, Christine replied. And anyway, it wasn’t bareback. I remember there was a saddle and reins.

Ooh! Sex with reins! Bondage! Kinky!

Christine tried again to deny it, pointing out that she had never actually ridden a horse, but she knew it wouldn’t help. Margo was a bit boy crazy and was inclined to think in such terms. Margo tended to run through at least four boyfriends a year while Christine had just one guy, Matt, the same guy for over a year now, and she was very happy with him.

She mentioned the dreams to Matt, but he didn’t have anything helpful to say. Matt was a solid, reliable fellow a couple of years older than Christine. He liked to play chess and read murder mysteries; he was training to become an EMT and then a paramedic.

Maybe the horse has something to do with your scooter, he said. He usually didn’t say much.

No, she said, scooters don’t have manes.

Still, she did like the rushing-wind sensation of riding her scooter. It was a white Swedish model that got about seventy miles per gallon and made little noise. The saddle was long enough for a friend to ride behind her. Her mother and Henry had given it to her as a graduation present, apologizing because they couldn’t afford to give her a car, but she didn’t mind, as she was really fond of it.

After a couple of days of dreams about riding a horse, she started to have some dreams that were a lot less fun. In her dreams, she found herself in a field under a gloomy, cloudy sky, and there was a smell of smoke in the air. She was walking about, and she found bodies lying on the ground. Most of them were men, and all of them had died by violence. She saw arrows sticking out of chests and throats, huge gashes and slashes, puddles of blood, and broken arms and legs and heads. There were fires burning here and there. It was all very shocking, and at least once she woke up in tears.

She only mentioned those dreams to Margo once. Margo was alarmed to hear about the dreams and seemed to think Christine must be depressed about something.

Are you all right? Margo asked. Are you and Matt having some trouble? Has he been mistreating you?

Oh, no, said Christine. We get along really well. He’s a real gentleman.

Margo did not seem entirely reassured. Christine knew that some of the various men Margo had dated were nowhere near as nice as Matt. She knew she could trust Matt. Of course, Christine also knew that Matt, being a healthy guy, was much interested in every detail of her anatomy. He had not made noticeable progress yet in pursuing that particular interest—nor had anyone else—but she, being a healthy girl, sometimes told herself, We shall see. They had time.

A few days later, she had a dream in which she witnessed part of a medieval battle. A group of wounded men was being loaded onto a cart to be carried away to safety, and one lone swordsman defended them against a number of attackers. He fell as the cart pulled away. In her dream, Christine watched and thought, This is a hero. She heard a voice telling her, You are here because you are a Valkyrie.

She woke up wondering what all this meant. She mentioned to Margo that she had another dream, but she provided no details.

Margo said, I was thinking about your dreams. Maybe you’re having memories of a past life.

She went on about reincarnation and the recycling of souls. Christine was inclined to have her doubts about it. Margo thought she herself was the reincarnation of a French cafe-society girl; that sounded more likely.

She looked up the term Valkyrie. As the town had been settled mostly by Norwegian immigrants, the public library had a good section on Norse mythology. The head of the pantheon was Odin, the Allfather. Four days of the week were named after Norse gods. She learned that Valkyries were the choosers of the slain, daughters of Odin, warrior girls who rode on horses on the Bifrost Bridge. Their work was to visit battlefields and escort the souls of dead heroes to Valhalla, where the heroes would eat, drink, boast, argue, arm-wrestle, etc., until they were needed again in the final battle of Ragnarok. Valkyries had names such as Shaker, Spear Bearer, or Mist.

It all seemed to fit her dreams, but otherwise, none of this seemed to make sense. As far as she knew, her parents were human, not Norse gods. For that matter, did she even believe in Norse gods? Did anyone? And how did the name Gudrun fit in? She decided she should ask her mother sometime soon for more information about her father.

Matt had some news for her. He had passed the exams on the classroom part of his EMT training, and now he could start getting practical experience. She could tell he was very much pleased. His first shifts would start in a couple of days.

Christine continued to have odd dreams. In one of them, she found herself next to one end of a huge bridge. The bridge seemed to be made of light in many colors, like a rainbow, but it was apparently solid enough for people to walk on it. It was so long she could not see the other end. When she woke up, she remembered the bridge and thought it must be something she had read about, but she couldn’t recall its name.

On a Friday in early June, she woke up to hear bad news. Matt had been out on a shift with older personnel who were supervising him, and he had been injured. It took her a while to find out what had happened: A traffic accident had occurred at an intersection. Matt and others had been preparing an injured man for transport to a hospital when another car came along with bad brakes and nearly ran them all down. Matt had pushed the injured man aside to safety and had been hit himself, suffering a concussion and some bruises and scrapes.

She went to the hospital, but it was some time before she was allowed to see Matt, and then he was simply lying unconscious in a bed with a few bandages. Matt’s parents were there; she asked about his condition and was told that it was unknown how long he would be unconscious and whether he would have any permanent damage. One of his coworkers was there, and his comments made it clear Matt had saved the injured man’s life.

It was a long day. She spent much of it sitting by his bed, worrying, and praying. Eventually her own mother showed up and insisted she should come home, eat something, and get some rest. She was sure she couldn’t eat anything and then found she was very hungry, and then she felt guilty about eating a big dinner at home while Matt was in the hospital. She called Margo and told her about it. For once, Margo had little to say. Later Christine was sure she could never fall asleep, and then she did.

That night’s dream was unusually vivid, and later she was able to remember most of it. She found herself fully clothed and riding her scooter. She came to the hospital and paused, and Matt came out and got on the seat behind her with his hands on her waist. Oddly enough, he was dressed normally and seemed uninjured. Neither of them said a word. She restarted the scooter, and then they were going somewhere, although it was nowhere she recognized. She wondered for a moment if she would run out of gas. They came to the bridge she had seen in her previous dreams, and they went on across it. The bridge felt quite solid under her wheels. There were branches or exits now and then off to the right or left, each marked with various colors, but she just kept going straight down the middle until something told her it was time to turn. The trip seemed very long, but eventually, they left the bridge and reached a countryside that looked wild and rugged. There was a road, and they followed it.

The road led to a huge estate. There was a high stone wall around it and a gate in the wall. The gate was closed, but there was a gatekeeper with piercing eyes who nodded at her, and then the gate opened. Inside there were a number of buildings, but mostly what she saw was a great hall up ahead. The road led to a huge doorway, and she stopped there, and they got off the scooter. At the door, a man was waiting.

She was sure she had never seen the man before, but something about him seemed familiar. He was tall and had broad shoulders and an impressive beard. There was some gray in the beard, and he wore a patch over one eye, but he did not seem to be old or feeble or disabled; instead, he seemed to be alert and in command. A black bird sat on his shoulder.

The man spoke, Welcome, Gudrun and Matt! He turned to Matt and said, Matt, this is Valhalla, the Hall of Heroes. You have earned your place here.

Matt said, I only did what anyone would have done.

Most who come to this place would say the same was the answer.

The man turned to Christine and said, Gudrun, it is good that you are here. You are as beautiful as your mother. Do you know who I am and where you are?

She heard herself say, I believe you are Odin, and this is your world, Asgard. She did not try to deny the name Gudrun.

You are correct, said Odin. He walked over to her and took her hands in his. You are my daughter, and you are a Valkyrie. You have done well to bring Matt here.

Sir, she said—and it felt completely natural to address him so—I don’t believe Matt belongs here, as he is still alive.

Odin laughed and said, Very well. You may take him back to the mortal world, and I promise he will be well. You must understand, though, that Matt is a mortal man, and he will die someday. When the time comes, he will be welcome here.

Also, she said, I am not at all sure that you are my father. As far as I know, my father was a man back on Earth.

This time, Odin merely grinned, saying, Perhaps you should ask your mother about that. In any case, I assure you that you are a Valkyrie. Otherwise, you could not have brought a mortal here, alive or dead, across the Bifrost Bridge.

After that, Odin showed them some sights and introduced them to some people, but later she could remember very little of that part of the trip. Soon enough they came back to the hall where the scooter was parked, and it was time to return.

Thank you, she said to Odin. This place is full of wonders. She walked to the scooter and said, I hope I have enough gas to make the trip back.

Odin said, with a bit of a smile, You may find now that your scooter will never run out of gas.

Matt got on the scooter behind her as before. Just as they were about to leave, Odin said, Go now. You will come here again. Remember, you are a Valkyrie. I may have some tasks for you in the future.

The return trip seemed to go much more swiftly. Again, she was not at all certain of the route they took, but it brought them safely home again. She paused in front of the hospital, and Matt got off.

Here you are, she said. Odin said you will be all right.

Was all this real? he asked.

I’m not sure, she answered. I am sure of this: I’m a lucky girl because my guy is a hero.

I don’t know if I’m a hero, he replied, but I am definitely your guy.

He went into the hospital, and she went on home. In the morning, she woke up and remembered what had happened. Would Matt remember it? Did it matter? Would he be all right? She was sure Odin knew his stuff. She might have lost Matt. She remembered a phrase that