Liars and Loyalty Part 51

            He was walking into a trap, this Loki knew, but he continued gliding darkly over the freshly-fallen snow. He could see the Jotun encampment just ahead, seemingly deserted, but the wrathful demi-god knew better. They were all around him, giving him an invisible escort into the camp.

            How kind of them, he thought humorlessly.

            Striding boldly into the middle of the large encampment, he held his stance firm and unyielding. He knew they were all around him and he was tired of their skulking cowardice. With authority in his voice and fire in his eyes, Loki held his ground and called out to the hiding Jotuns with a loud voice.

            “I know you’re there, you monsters! Come out and give her back to me, or I will take her by force!” His voice was colder than the weather around him.

            There was no response. He gritted his teeth angrily and growled, a fringe of raw danger in his tone.

            Suddenly, he roared with impatient fury and caused spikes of ice to break the ground’s surface all around him, all four to five feet long in length.

            “DON’T KEEP ME WAITING!” He commanded loudly for all of Jotunheim to hear. “I KNOW YOU’VE SET A TRAP! YOU COWARDS! YOU COULDN’T EVEN STAND TO MEET ME FACE TO FACE?”

            There was a massive enraged cry that issued from every Jotun’s throat as their leader led the charge. They circled him, corralled him, and cut him off from any possible means of escape. They did not attack, however, but remained in tense positions like coiled springs, their weapons in their hands and their heads low. Their leader stepped forward and faced Loki, bravely preparing himself to meet the demi-god’s wrath.

            “It was foolish of you to come here, filth,” the leader grated, beginning to circle him. “You sensed a trap and yet you walked into it willingly.” He laughed. “To think that, despite all Jotuns’ hate for you, you’ve always been hailed as cunning.”

            “You know why I’ve come,” Loki stated, his voice soft and menacing. He engaged in the circular dance. “Give her to me!”

            “I know not of what you speak, Asgardian,” the giant answered with a grin, showing wide, solid teeth. He was obviously was simply pleased to have the long-pursued traitor out-matched and surrounded.

            “Who helped you?” Loki pressed on, not giving an ounce of mead for the Jotun’s response. “Hmm? Who helped take her? I saw the footprints. They weren’t quite savage sized. So tell me! Who helped you?! How much money changed hands, eh? Cretins!”

            “Enough, traitorous vermin!” The Jotun growled, stepping forward and lifting his weapon threateningly.

            A silent spell and an angry flash of Loki’s green eyes was enough to strike the icy ax away. All of the other Jotuns lifted and gripped their weapons in response, but Loki paid no mind and strode forward, demanding.

            “Take me to her! Or bring her to me! I care not!” He cried. Suddenly, his voice plummeted to a fearsome hiss. “She had better be in perfect health, you animal.”

            “Of whom to you speak so defensively? And how can I get my blades into her?” The general inquired, genuinely confused as well as savagely opportunistic.

            Loki’s face contorted in rage and a spear of ice thrust upwards towards the Jotun from the ground at the command of a silent spell.

            “Don’t you DARE trifle with me! You’ve taken her. My companion. And if you value the lives of you and your soldiers, you will release her!”

            “What makes you think we have her?”

            “Do you actually have the audacity to lie to the god who has mastered it himself?” There was a brief pause in the tense conversation as the wind whistled around them. Every one of the Jotuns could practically feel the eminent, furious ire sounding in the man’s voice. “For Andromeda’s gentle sake, I’ll give you one last chance: release her to me!”

            Again, momentary silence. There was a great deal of discomfort hanging in the air.

            “We don’t have her.”

            With a shuddering exhale and a fiercely dangerous glint in his murderous eyes, Loki began to circle the Jotun general.

            “There was once a man who once said that ‘Hel hath no fury like a woman’s scorn’,” he began, as menacing as a shadow and as powerful as a raging hurricane-tossed ocean. “But he was wrong. He never met me. And I’m Hel’s father. And you cannot possibly fathom the fury of my wrath.”

            Ash, blood spattered snow, and mangled, crushed corpses remained littered the ground as Loki left the encampment several hours later. He was alone. Andromeda had not been in the camp. He had not managed to drag any useful information from the leader’s tortured, dying voice. But blood was on his hands… again.

            Where had last month gone?