Son of the Morrigan: The Second Book of Terry Unger's Reluctant Hero Trilogy

Son of the

Morrigan

The Second Book of

Terry Unger’s Reluctant Hero Trilogy

Terry Unger

iUniverse, Inc.

New York Bloomington

Son of the Morrigan

The Second Book of Terry Unger’s Reluctant Hero Trilogy

Copyright © 2010 by Terry Unger

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author and publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4502-6807-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-6808-0 (dj)

ISBN: 978-1-4502-6809-7 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 11/01/2010

Dedicated to all the men and women of the armed forces of the United States of America

Contents

Acknowledgments

Foreword

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Glossary

About the Author

Acknowledgments

This book would not be as good as it is if it was not for the diligent efforts of my editor, Karen M. P. Carlson. Karen’s red pen has made me a better writer and because of her work this book of mine really shines.

I have not had the pleasure of meeting Jonathan Shay, M.D., Ph.D. but I would like to. Dr. Shay’s work, Achilles in Vietnam and Odysseus in America, is seminal to the understanding of the mind-bending trauma of combat and what happens to soldiers when they return home. In his work, Dr. Shay discusses something that is known as what’s right, and what happens when a person’s what’s right has been violated. I believe that my application of what’s right in more of a civilian application will resonate within many of my readers.

Every artist or writer has, or has had a muse, someone who has had inspired him; I have mine. She lives just a wee bit south of the Equator and keeps a light on for me.

Foreword

After finding the first novel in this series – The Last Wizard – highly entertaining, I have been delighted to get a sneak preview of the present work.

As with Wizard, this is fiction, not theology. While the deities of various elder pantheons, especially the Germanic, play a central role, their depiction is not strictly according to the lore that has come down to us from pre-Christian times. Something of their spirit, however, is captured quite well, particularly as that spirit is relevant to modern society.

And relevant it is: the elder gods represent some timeless truths and values. This novel is far from sugary – in fact, it gets rather spicy at times – and will probably never garner a Good Housekeeping/Moral Majority seal of approval. But there is a clear moral message.

As in the elder lore, the gods are depicted as mortal, and imperfect. This is not the Abrahamic idea of deity, perfect and forever unchanging, somewhere out there. Rather, the gods are multi-faceted; they feel, they learn, and some of them change as the novel goes on.

While the story is set in the future, it draws upon the past. The author has woven bits of history, from antiquity to recent days, into his tale. The interested reader may wish to learn more about the Battle of the Teutoburger Wald, or about Julian the Apostate … or about the politics of the 20th and 21st centuries. Or he may wish to just enjoy a romping good read.

Karen M. P. Carlson

Prologue

Twenty winters had come and gone since Max and Gina had found the child by the water’s edge at Lake George. When the child was presented to the Folk that Yule evening in Evergreen Village, little doubt existed as to who the father was. The boy had Max’s hair and skin tone, and looked like a Max in miniature, with two outstanding exceptions.

His raiment - clothes and blankets - was costly. It was as if gold had been spun into the cloth. Then there were his eyes. They were bright, alert, and focused, able to soak in his new environment, unlike those of most newborn babes. The light from his eyes had seemed to make his countenance glow. From that evening forward many of the villagers had believed that Max had coupled with a Goddess. It would be many years before Max acknowledged his true relationship with the Morrigan, finally giving the Villagers the truth they already knew: a god-man had been born in their midst.

A pregnant Gina had instinctively known the parentage of the boy. The Morrigan had visited Gina frequently in her dreams, imparting to her the knowledge of the child’s impending birth. These dreams did not come as a surprise to Gina. Max had told her of his relationship with the Goddess, and she was proud that her husband was held in high standing with the Gods.

Gina’s first act as foster mother had been to insist that the boy’s name reflect his goddess-mother, something Max had no quarrel with. It was Gina who had chosen the name Morgan, in honor of his birth mother-goddess. These secrets and more Gina had kept until Max was ready to reveal Morgan’s full parentage. The reason for the secrecy was simple; the Morrigan had insisted on it.

The Goddess had made it very clear to Gina that Morgan was to be raised without any special consideration due to his birth status. His father was mortal the boy, half so; he was to live among men in Midgard. She wanted her son to have the full thrust of the human experience: the good, the bad, the ugly; the joy and the pain of human life. At the time, the Morrigan had no idea how that human life would play out.

As the Wheel of the Year had turned from winter to summer, Gina delivered a healthy and beautiful little girl. This little one radiated life itself from her inner core. Her jet black hair had glistened in the sunrise and Max lost himself in his daughter’s deep blue eyes. The little girl had appeared so sunny to her parents that the descriptive word stuck. The new parents decided Sunny was to be raised like her brother Morgan - no special treatment from anyone; this parenting decision dove-tailed well with their response to ongoing concerns over the other children of Evergreen Village.

The Battle of Evergreen Mountain had left many young children parentless. Husbands and wives had fought side by side and died together, often accompanied by their eldest child. The survivors had found themselves with more young orphans than any one, two, or three couples could handle. Out of necessity it was decided that the children were to be raised communally. At the very least, adults became aunts and uncles, omas and opas, if not outright moms and dads. In this manner there was plenty of love, discipline, and family life to go around; not one child lacked for affection or a roof over its head. In this environment Morgan and Sunny were raised. But these two siblings had considered themselves blessed; brother and sister could point to blood mother and father where as many of their peers could not. As time passed, Morgan and Sunny grew close to each other and also looked upon the other kids as not just neighbors but kin. Moreover, all the children had divine help in adjusting to their new family environment in the person of the God Thor, also known as Donar.

The Germanic God Thor - Protector of Asgard, Midgard, and the common man - had grown close to Max, Gina, and the survivors of Evergreen Village after The Battle. It was not pity that had drawn him closer but admiration for their raw courage. Then there were the children. Thor had become the de facto big brother to all of them. Many were the days Thor could be found in Evergreen Village with children sitting on his shoulders and huddled in his lap. He told them stories of days of old, when the Earth, Midgard, was young. He made the children laugh over his tales of giants and how he, Mighty Thor, had to dress like a woman to save the Vanic Goddess Freya from marrying an ugly giant! Thor vividly told the story of the competition between the Swarzalps, great smiths who lived deep within and under the mountains and how they created his mighty hammer, Malant or Mjollnir, and Wodan’s frightening spear Gungnir, and the Vanic God Frey’s magical fold it up and put it in your pocket ship Skidbladnir. This story the God of Thunder intentionally abbreviated; he did not want the children to ever hear or know of Loki, the being he absolutely loathed. But the children laughed hardest and happiest when they all played hide and seek.

Thor always had managed to be it. He allowed the children to count to one hundred - a good exercise in learning their numbers - he thought, while he lumbered off to a distant point on the mountain, but always to a place from which he could keep his eyes on them. And of course the children always found him; it was hard to not see Big Red. Days like these had served to strengthen the bonds between the Gods and Evergreen Village. Wodan had watched and smiled approvingly. And Thor was a deeper, more forward thinker than most gave him credit for.

Thor had looked at the children as a new generation of warrior-statesmen, raised to help the All-Father further his plan to heal The Life Web, the nine - level Multiverse. When the children were older Thor had guided and instructed them as they erected a full size Irminsul, the old Germanic World Tree, in honor of Wodan. The Irminsul was placed just fifty feet from the entrance to Evergreen House, the Muller family home. These children had grown up in the presence of a God, knew him for what he was, and had no fear of him. To all the Gods, this was reminiscent of the Old Days when they all had walked and talked freely with men. For Thor however, Max and his family had warranted special attention.

In Thor’s mind he was closer to Max, his adopted brother, than he had ever been to his deceased brother Balder. This feeling may have been caused by Balder’s beautiful righteousness as it was perceived by Thor, by the lack of a common mother, by Balder’s position as Wodan’s heir apparent, or by his lack of battle skills. Only Thor knew the answer, and he cared not to ponder it. However, he had mourned the loss of Balder at the hands of Loki and regretted not having taken the time to know Balder as brother and comrade. The God of Thunder harbored no desire to mourn another such loss. Thor had known how important this family was to the success of The High Council’s and Wodan’s Plan to heal The Life Web, the Multiverse. If Max, the Morrigan, and Gina formed the lynchpin of The Plan, Morgan and Sunny were the keys, or so Thor believed. So strong was his belief that he had sworn an oath on his hammer to protect them at all costs.

The All-Father, Thor thought, was stingy with information, but Thor had felt The Plan was on track and did not question Wodan. His job, Thor reasoned, was to protect the Muller family. If his job, his responsibility had been different, he was sure Wodan would have told him; Wodan was not one to hold back on things of this nature. One day as he teleported back through The Planes to his Hall Plechaheim or Bilsknir in Asgard Thor was struck by the way the Muller family had progressed.

This progression, a forward yet upward spiraling evolution, had occurred not just within Max’s family tree, but also in Gina’s. The younger generation always had surpassed the parent in ability and skill. The day did come when Morgan equaled, then surpassed his father; the same had transpired with his sister Sunny. Not only had Sunny equaled her mother, but she inherited her father’s talents as well. Yes, oh yes, Thor had known, as did the other Gods that this pair of siblings was different; their advanced education was already planned and even greater things were needed of them. Their potential was embedded in their blood and burned into their genes, and what genes they had!

As all things do, Max and Gina had changed. Of course they had aged chronologically but with the exception of a line here and a slight wrinkle there, they looked the same as when they had first met. In a word, they were robust and radiated Magan, the Germanic term for the vital life force. They had survived The Battle of Evergreen Mountain and with that they gained a greater appreciation of life. However, the new Republic of New York had had the ups and downs all new enterprises experienced. Certain parties had felt the need to enlist Max and Gina as observers and advisors. This had worn on them like bare skin making contact with concrete.

Requests were made by Martin the Pope, by McNare, the Jesuit Superior General, and by the fledgling government of the Republic of New York. This new republic had grown. In a short time it had incorporated the former states of Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, and the former New England states within its borders; its capitol was in Binghamton. Max had felt it was his duty and responsibility to help wherever he could. But it had worn heavily on his sense of duty as husband and father. These emotional blips were picked up by Wodan one day as he sat on his High Seat and gazed down on Midgard.

When the time was right, on an occasion when Max had finished a simple surveillance for Martin, Wodan gently counseled Max. The All-Father had placed his hand on Max’s shoulder and sung a Rune song and Max understood the deeper meaning of Wodan’s wise counsel. Part of this received wisdom allowed Gina to teleport with him. Subsequently the two of them had appeared together often, all over the Republic and most of the world. So often did this happen in fact, their sudden appearance was no longer a shock to those who had witnessed it; they achieved great fame for their work among many folk and were often a topic of household conversation. One place they visited especially often was the New York City Public Library located at the corner of 42nd Street and Fifth Avenue. And of course they visited Martin, DeCarlo, and McNare at the Vatican. More than once Martin had honored them with state dinners, much to the dismay of the Opus Dei prelates. These had been glory days and tender years for many in The Multiverse, including Wodan.

If Thor was big brother, Wodan was doting granddaddy. He had visited Evergreen Village often, dressed in his long blue cloak trimmed out in rich ermine, which was accompanied by his large brimmed floppy hat. He always brought a sack full of sweet treats for the children. He loved to see the children so happy and appreciative of