“Let me see if I can get through the main course before I commit,” the pythia demurred, carrying her plate back to their dining table.
The others joined her a few moments later. Lars bore two dinner plates piled high with a sampling of everything.
“It is important to eat enough to keep up the strength,” their guide declared as he sat down.
By this time, their drinks had arrived. While the visitors sipped their beer, Lars immediately began attacking his dinner. The trio watched in rapt fascination at how quickly food disappeared from his plate.
They all ate and drank in silence for several minutes until Lars had cleaned his first plate and apparently decided to take a breather. Sitting back and folding his arms, he studied his guests. “I am so happy to have the task of assisting you. Usually, I talk to nothing but rocks.” He grinned at his own joke.
Daniel squinted at him. “What do you mean?”
“I study the rock art of the Saami. Some of it is very ancient—thousands of years old but it is not very lively.”
“I’ve never heard of the Saami before tonight,” the scion said. “I thought Norsemen were the original inhabitants of Scandinavia.”
“Hah!” Lars barked. “The Norse tribes are overlords. They took over the southern land and pushed the native people all the way up here.”
“Oh,” Daniel said in a small voice, obviously realizing he’d once again stirred up controversy by citing his beloved library books. “Then where did the Norse tribes come from if not from Scandinavia?”
“The same place as most other overlord tribes,” the scrivener interjected. “DNA evidence traces their origins to the Eurasian steppes. They didn’t arrive in this part of the world until 3000 BCE.”
“Before that everything was different,” Lars said. “In the beginning, there were the gatherer-hunters and the herders like the Saami. Then when the glaciers melted the farmers migrated here. They grew crops and kept dairy cattle. Everybody got along together. The farmers stayed in the south where they could grow things, and the Saami moved back and forth to graze the reindeer herds. They traded with each other.” His face darkened. “Then the overlords came from across the sea. They were called the ‘Battle-Axe Culture.’ They killed the farmers or forced them to work the land as peasants. Their story is set down in the war of the gods.”
“Huh?” Cassie looked up from her plate.
“I think he’s referring to the Aesir-Vanir War which was first recorded by Snorri Sturluson in the thirteenth century,” Griffin said. “It’s a mythological battle between two tribes of deities which eventually merged into a single pantheon of Norse gods. The Vanir represented an older earth-based set of beliefs. The principal Vanir deities were the goddess Freya and her consort-brother Frey.”
“That sounds suspiciously matristic,” the pythia said.
“As it should,” Griffin agreed. “It’s quite likely that the distant ancestors of the Scandinavian farmers originated in southern Europe or Anatolia. They worshipped a principal goddess who was accompanied by a year-god as her consort and/or son. Freya rides a chariot drawn by two cats which is strikingly similar to the Anatolian goddess Cybele whose chariot is drawn by two lions. The name ‘Freya’ itself simply means ‘Lady’ much like the word ‘Potnia’ meant ‘Divine Lady’ to the ancient Minoans. Her brother’s name means ‘Lord.’ The parallels to matricentric cultures in the Mediterranean are unmistakable.”
“But the ways of the Battle-Axe overlords were different,” Lars countered between mouthfuls of food. “They lived to fight, and they had no respect for the people who tended the land. They also had no respect for the shamans and seers of the herders and farmers.”
“That’s quite true,” the scrivener picked up the thread. “In fact, the war between the Aesir and the Vanir was provoked because the overlord deities feared the growing influence of the Vanir seers among them. As the story goes, Odin and his forces attacked the Vanir in order to keep the Aesir Battle-Axe Culture from becoming contaminated by a different set of beliefs.”
“So, you’re saying the Vanir were asking for it?” Cassie’s tone was sarcastic.
“I’m not saying it’s true,” Griffin protested. “I’m merely stating the rationale given for starting the war. I’m sure the Aesir’s real-life overlord counterparts justified many an invasion along similar lines.”
“That is so typical.” The pythia threw her hands up in disgust. “It’s just like what happened when the Hellenic tribes overran Crete. In their myths, they said they were protecting Athenian youth from evil King Minos and his Minotaur. What a load of bull. Literally!” She caught a look of amazement on Griffin’s face and burst out laughing. “What, I’m not supposed to do research in my off hours?”
“I... uh...” The scrivener seemed at a total loss for words.
“That’s very interesting but what happened between the Aesir and the Vanir?” Daniel prompted.
Griffin recovered himself enough to resume the tale. “After the two pantheons had been battling each other for some time, they realized neither one could win. Eventually, they called for a truce and an exchange of hostages. Freya and her brother went to live with the Aesir while Hoenir and Mimir, two overlord deities, went to live with the Vanir.”
“And in Norse mythology, Freya ended up as Odin’s wife. Also typical,” Cassie remarked acidly.
“I don’t understand,” Daniel mumbled self-consciously.
“Whenever overlord tribes move into an area, they start tinkering with the local mythology,” the pythia explained. “The previous reigning goddess gets demoted and becomes the old ball-and-chain of the invader’s god. The origin myths of Greece, Rome, Egypt, India, and China all follow the same pattern.”
“I see.” Daniel furrowed his brow. “So, in all likelihood, Freya would have been the supreme divinity of the Scandinavian countries before the arrival of the overlord steppe invaders and their god Odin.”
“Precisely,” Griffin concurred.
“The Aesir-Vanir truce was not so much of a compromise either,” Lars chimed in, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Because the overlords took over the land, the Aesir deities got to have things their way. They
