Arthur and the Fenris Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

avoiding Arthur’s gaze.
    â€˜Bjorn?’ he asked again.
    Eventually Bjorn raised his head and met Arthur’s eyes. Then he simply nodded.

Chapter Three

    The Trickster God never enjoyed being in this four-legged wolf form. He much preferred to stand as a man, tall and broad with a nose that couldn’t smell the stinking earth around him. But being a wolf did have its benefits. He liked to run his coarse tongue along his piercing fangs and he could feel the great strength in his jaws even when his mouth was relaxed. Plus, being a wolf made it easier to follow the grey wolf.
    They ran north all through the first night, leaping over hedges, bounding through briars and spooking sheep. They avoided towns and villages and crept past farmhouses only if necessary. The rolling Irish countryside was enduring sub-zero conditions, but they sprinted too fast to feel the cold. The grey wolf had given up any thought of escape. He was resigned to the fact that he had to lead the god to the others. As the sun rose in the east, bringing little warmth with it, the grey wolf idled to a stop. He looked back at Loki, whose golden wolf fur was almost glowing in the morning light, and scratched a paw into the hard earth.
    Loki understood the gesture and, though he wasn’t pleased, he saw the sense in the grey wolf’s suggestion. It was time to stop, time to rest. The daytime was not a good time for a wolf to be out.
    Too far from any caves, forests or mountainsides, they huddled together in a ditch at the side of a meadow, away from any possible prying eyes. The grey wolf slept through the day, rolling in his sleep and snoring with his great tongue lolling out. Loki didn’t need sleep so simply lay quietly. He was patient. It was something he’d learned in a thousand years of captivity. Good things come to those who wait. Or, in his case, evil things.
    As the day came to an end and dusk approached, he took a chance and crawled out of their little ditch. He’d heard something across the meadow and wanted to investigate. Moments later he returned to the grey wolf, carrying a dead hedgehog in his chops, dripping blood. He dropped it at the snout of the wolf, startling him into waking. The grey wolf looked at Loki then back at the hedgehog. It was so temptingly juicy, he couldn’t resist. He devoured it in three bites, belching back up the skull and bones. Loki was pleased. The grey wolf wasn’t like him and he would need the energy for the journey ahead.
    They set off once more, heading in a north-easterly direction now. A full moon hovered in the sky, a bright white disc against silky black. Loki liked the moon. He had been present when it was created all those millennia ago. Some liked it because it was the only light in a sea of darkness; truly a gift of the gods to humanity. But Loki liked it because man generally feared it. It was a symbol of cold times, of nightfall, and humans foolishly feared the superstitions they passed on to each other. Although not all the superstitions were untrue, he knew.
    The grey wolf seemed even more determined on the second night than he did on the first. He just concentrated on their destination and getting there as quickly as possible.
    The flat lands in the centre of the country were easier to pass through than the hilly fields of the night before, although this brought its own problems. While on the previous night they could run for miles through hills without the risk of being spotted, here they had to stop and hide on several occasions. At one stage they had to cross a motorway, a huge man-made road of concrete and tarmac. Traffic was sparse but fast and the two wolves watched from behind a fence as cars and lorries sped by at reckless speeds. Eventually they had their chance to cross. Only one car approached in the distance but was too far away for the driver to see that there were wolves crossing. As soon as the wolves reached the other side of the motorway, they