A Valkyrie's Touch

By Ann Stratton

Against stupidity, the Gods themselves contend in vain.
--Frederick Schiller

Even immortals get tired. Gunner’s been doing her job for a very long time now, with little to no time off, and she is bored out of her mind. It wears on her, all this death and destruction, even if she is an immortal being charged with carrying souls to their Final Judgment. Her endless days are spent ferrying the ungrateful dead and she’s tired of it.
However, all immortals depend on the mortals who believe in them, and the mortals would rather kill each other over trivialities than work out their differences. Gunner is so over this; there are music clubs to visit and friends to enjoy, and a bunch of politicians would rather compare their genitalia than do the right thing.
It may be time to take a direct hand in this.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann Stratton
• Release date: May 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005632342

Ann Stratton

Ann Stratton started writing at age thirteen with the usual results. After a long stint in fan fiction, honing her skills, she hopes she has gotten better since then. She lives in Southeastern Arizona, trying to juggle all her varied interests. 

Book preview

A Valkyrie’s Touch

The Smashwords edition

Ann Stratton

A Blind Woman Production publication

Copyright © 2020 Ann Stratton

To give the reader more of a sample, the front matter appears at the end.

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Table of contents

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Against stupidity, the Gods themselves contend in vain.

--Frederick Schiller

1

Gunner! Pay attention!

Gunner rocked sideways from the force of Rotha’s jab to her ribs, her mind pulled back from her favorite music club. She glared at Rotha, who indicated with her eyebrows that she should be looking toward the altar at the front of the chapel, where the All Mother stood waiting with Her hands still held up in the blessing, Her expression annoyed and disappointed. The rest of the Choosers all stared sideways at her with their own expressions of boredom and anticipation.

Embarrassed, Gunner slid her string of skull beads back around her wrist and sat up on the unforgiving pew, trying to look interested and inspired. Rotha beside her made a low voiced grunt and poked her again with her elbow.

Welcome back, the All Mother said with only the slightest hint of sarcasm. She lowered Her hands and clasped them in front of Her. She took a deep breath and let it out again. Gunner, dear, I know you think what we do went the way of the frost in the spring, but I remind you we still have our work, whether anyone believes or not. In these days with the higher population and the wars killing more people than ever, our work is even more important. Could you at least pretend to pay attention?

This old argument again. Ashamed and angry, Gunner clenched her hands together and bowed her head, trying to refocus. One did not get angry with the All Mother. Girding her courage, she straightened her back and stood up. Nobody believes in us anymore, Mother. Our rituals here don’t have any meaning anymore. We should have just retired as we were supposed to after we were pushed aside, to enjoy ourselves in the heavenly realms. I mean, I’m really tired of collecting hugrs that don’t want to fight anymore, except for me maybe, and then arguing with the others about whose soul is supposed to go where. You’d think the gods would coordinate better, what with all their angels and saints and avatars to do all the administrative work! All we have is us, and there’s only so many to go around!

The All Mother sighed again, rubbing Her temples. Her bracelets of skull beads knocked gently against each other as Her hands moved, matched by the necklace around Her neck. Gunner, dear, yes. There are only so many of us. You see each and every one here in the chapel, all of us. There aren’t any more to help or take over for us. We have to make do with what we have. I know you’re tired, we all are, but our people still need us. We still have jobs to do and it’s our holy responsibility to do it. I’ve spoken to the other Judges, and they are in much the same situation we are, too many to care for and not enough to do it. We cannot give up. She looked tired and drawn, with dark circles under Her eyes. The All Mother clasped Her hands in front of Her again, straightening Her shoulders with an effort. Gunner felt guilty at seeing Her fatigue. Gunner, dear, I understand. I really do. There is very little I can do.

Skuld cleared her throat, bringing the assembly’s attention to her. Your pardon, Mother, but I’ve been granted the knowledge of a possible truce called in the very near future, if the relevant government authorities can come to some mutual agreement. If this comes to pass, then we may get a day off.

This was very good news. The Choosers murmured between each other hopefully. Gunner did not pump her fist in triumph, but her mood was suddenly many degrees better. The All Mother raised Her head, looking hopefully at Skuld, who nodded back with an hopeful smile of her own.

The All Mother looked around the chapel at Her Choosers, lingering on each familiar face. The women all wore expressions of wary hope. Gunner was hopeful herself and smiled back, trying very hard to convey support for Skuld’s news. Skuld shared very little of what she was allowed to know and even less of that was good news, but this could be very good news indeed. The All Mother breathed in and out. Skuld, dear, what do you know? Can you give us any news about this?

Skuld arose, the chapel ceiling suddenly much too low for her. I have not yet heard anything more than I‘ve said. The politicians are still just shouting at each other, but the generals may calm them down yet, being as tired of the bloodshed as we are.

The All Mother nodded to her and she nodded back and sat down. Pray it comes to pass, My daughters. We could all use a day of rest. She held up