Day of the Vikings. A Thriller. (ARKANE) Read Online Free PDF Page A

was a long period of dark, dormant power that throbbed and hummed, perhaps the time in the grave where the staff had been found. He heard his own pulse before it morphed into the beating of drums and his vision began to clear.  

    ***

    They came from the sea in longboats filled with men in heat for battle, the staff of Skara Brae at their head, clutched in the hands of the only woman with them, the völva seeress. She wasn’t like the women they had left behind, those who served and bore children, subject to their menfolk. There was power in this one – a sense that she was at one with the ferocity of nature, and her will drove the men who followed her, even into death. The drums beat faster as the boats landed on the shore of an island. A priory loomed above them, carved into the rocks, its arches built to the glory of the God these monks served. The green hill slopes wound up to the priory, and the figures of people running could be seen, trying to escape the oncoming raiders.  
    Blake sensed the excitement of the Viking horde, their blood calling for plunder and slaughter, but under it all a resonance of pure joy. It was the first time he had truly felt it when reading. These men knew happiness in these moments. Perhaps this is what men are truly made for, Blake thought, as the rumble of the drums filled him.
    “ Fyllisk fjörvi feigra manna, rýðr ragna sjöt rauðum dreyra .”
    The men shouted Norse words as they spilled out of the boats, their voices a rough chant, evoking the frenzy and hunger of the god Odin as they charged. They called for the gods to feed on the flesh of the dead, and redden this land with gore.
    “ Skeggjöld, skálmöld, vindöld, vargöld ,” they chanted as they ran. “Axe-time, sword-time, wind-time, wolf-time.”
    Many were tattooed with the beasts that would stand with them in spirit during battle, and some wore wolf-skin pelts, the heads with teeth bared, adding to the ferocity of their appearance. With longswords and great axes held high, they ran in packs for the villages at the base of the priory, but Blake lost sight of them as he could only remain with the staff. He could hear the screams though, the wailing that soon filled the air, of women raped and men murdered, the village plundered as they died.
    The seeress made for the inner rooms of the priory, and her focus thrummed through Blake’s core. She wanted something from here, something very specific. He could sense her seeking it out. Two huge men flanked her, swords drawn. They pushed through the heavy wooden double doors into the sanctuary of the priory chapel, where a group of monks huddled near the altar, protecting the relics of the saint. One of them broke away carrying a heavy book, with two others flanking him. The Vikings ignored the group, for there was so much gold here, in the chalices and reliquaries, the wealth of a church that had not yet gone through the pains of the Reformation. The Viking guards stepped forward to begin piling it up for plunder.  
    One reached for a candlestick topped with an ornate carved eagle as a monk rushed toward them, hands raised in supplication.  
    “Stop,” he cried. “This is the Lord’s house.”
    The Viking backhanded him casually, swatting the man to the floor.  
    “The punishment of God has come upon us,” the monk cried, rising to his knees, hands raised in worship. “Forgive …”
    His words were silenced by the thrust of a longsword, the tip of the blade emerging through his back, dripping with blood. The monk’s eyes reflected surprise as they glazed over, his mouth open in his last prayer. The Viking withdrew the sword and wiped it on the monk’s habit before sheathing it again, turning his attention back to the gold.
    “I want the bones of the saint and one of you for my sacrifice to Odin,” the seeresssaid, in the local tongue. “If you give me that now, along with gold for my men, the rest of you will live to rebuild your community. Otherwise, you