Long ago, in the time of gods and myth . . .

Preface

The old man and the girl moved slowly up the narrow and rocky pass under the
watchful eyes of the sentries. "You see, child," the man murmured, "even here
one can sense the coming darkness. They cannot see the armies, but they watch
the birds fleeing the northern forests. They do not hear the horns, but they
listen to the crash of thunder from beyond the mountains."

A Viking clad in war leathers stepped forward to block their path, axe held
at the ready. "Who comes?" he demanded. Behind him, another warrior wielding
a short sword lifted a torch, casting flickering shadows across the stones.

The girl stepped between the old man and the Vikings. "He is Bragi," she said,
hands on her hips. "Storyteller to king's stronghold and village longhouse alike,
singer of the Saga of Andhrimnir-"

The old man laid a hand on the girl's shoulder and she fell silent. "You must
pardon Jun, warrior. She is young and prone to youth's impertinence. I am indeed
a skald traveling the land, and we seek only shelter from the night and its
dangers."

For a long moment, the Viking stared at the pair from under a knitted brow.
Finally he stood aside. "Well met, then. Welcome to Wotankeld." As they passed,
he brandished his axe and growled, "No trouble, hear?" Jun glowered at the warrior,
but the old man simply smiled, nodded, and moved up the pass.

As they continued around the bend, Jun kicked at a loose stone. Slipping into
the shadows, it broke with a crack against the walls of the pass. "Why do you
let him speak to you like that?" she complained. "And why are we here? The eddas
will be told of great battles and terrible bloodshed, not inconsequential villages!
'Learn the craft,' you said. 'Seek out the legends!' "

The old man smiled. "Your place for now is to watch, and to listen. In doing
so, you will come to understand our purpose."

Wotankeld was larger than most Viking villages, built in a rift between the
high cliffs that surrounded it. Enormous longhouses sat side-by-side along the
streets that took Jun and the old man toward its center. The entire town seemed
on edge. A woman passed carrying a bucket of water, but refused to meet their
eyes. When a small boy ran up to them shouting a greeting, he was quickly pulled
away by his older sister.

They wandered through the settlement until a sudden burst of laughter erupted
from between two longhouses. "Finally, something interesting," Jun muttered.
Following the noise, she found a crowd of Viking warriors who cheered and bellowed
as they watched two men circle in the center of the group. The first was nearly
twice Jun's height and moved with the strange grace born only in battle--experience
further betrayed by the scars on the mail that protected him. He wielded an
enormous broadsword pointed unwaveringly toward his opponent, a younger man
wearing only a quilted tunic and carrying a short sword in one hand while a
small wooden shield covered his other arm.

As Jun watched, the young man--really little more than a boy--slid to one side
then the other, weapon at the ready, then darted in to strike. The combatants
traded a flurry of blows, until the larger man's broadsword came around in a
sweeping arc that cracked the boy's shield and knocked him off his feet. The
collected Vikings roared with approving laughter, and Jun watched as the boy
slowly sat up.

She shook her head and walked back to where the old man was waiting. "They
may know that the darkness is coming, but if he's defending the village it'll
be in deep, deep trouble."

The skald smiled again. "Perhaps," he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"Though all too soon that boy will be the one defending not this village, but
all of Midgard. . ."

Top

Part I

"Him?" Jun said incredulously.

"His name is Ragnar," said the old man. "And he has only begun his walk down
the path of destiny." The pair turned to look back at the young warrior.

Grunting as he climbed to his feet, Ragnar retrieved his sword and threw aside
his splintered shield. "Sigard!" he yelled, and his massive opponent turned
from where he was being congratulated. "Again!" said Ragnar. The larger man
shrugged and collected his broadsword from a friend. Shouting their approval,
the assembled Vikings crowded closer. Jun climbed atop a nearby barrel for a
better view.

The combat had already begun, Ragnar and Sigard circling warily. Suddenly Ragnar
rushed forward and brought his blade up in a violent swing easily parried by
his opponent. Ragnar attacked again, only to be blocked by Sigard's shield.

As Ragnar leapt back, Sigard used the flat of his blade to clout the young
warrior on his sword arm. Clutching his forearm to his chest, Ragnar spun-and
suddenly came back, his sword arcing under Sigard's shield and into a gap in
the mail on his side. The larger man grunted in pain, and Jun heard a cheer
from somewhere in the crowd.

Ragnar closed with a flurry of blows as Sigard kept his shield clutched tight
over his wound. Sigard finally managed to bring his broadsword around in a clumsy
one-handed swing, and Ragnar dived under the blade and away.

Roaring with rage, Sigard threw his shield aside and rushed forward. For the
next few moments, Jun watched Ragnar do his best to stave off a rain of hacking
blows that visibly chipped the edges of his sword.

Top

Finally Ragnar rolled to one side and leapt to his feet. Once again he and
Sigard squared off, circling inside the ring of Vikings. Suddenly Ragnar stopped
and threw his sword aside. Sigard stood straight and grinned at the crowd. "He
yields!" he shouted-as Ragnar stepped forward drove his fist directly into Sigard's
jaw. The massive Viking's head snapped back, and he wobbled for a moment as
his broadsword fell from his hand. Then his eyes rolled and he slumped to the
ground.

The assembled Vikings fell silent as Ragnar retrieved his short sword and wiped
it clean on his leather leggings. He turned to the crowd before speaking: "I
am a Viking warrior. I will never yield." Jun joined the crowd as it erupted
in cheers, the Vikings raising their weapons in salute.

A warrior clad in both leather and mail stepped forward, longsword and dagger
strapped to his hips and an enormous axe slung behind him. Boiled and stretched
leather had been formed into guards that were strapped over his shoulders and
reached almost to the edges of his helm. He raised his hands and waited for
the cheers to calm. Finally he put his hand on Ragnar's shoulder and spoke.
"As speaker for the thane, I declare the holmgang at an end. Ragnar has proven
himself through combat, and will be recompensed with three silver marks. . .once
his opponent awakens. With that, the closing of this matter shall be recognized
by both gods and men. So say the Laws of Odin."

"I thank you, Gudrek, and I thank the gods," said Ragnar, nodding his head
solemnly.

"But there is one more matter," said the thanesman, and Ragnar looked up, puzzled.
Reaching into a pouch on his belt, Gudrek withdrew a medallion, a silver disk
engraved with crossed sword and hammer inside a ring of runes. Jun noticed that
both Gudrek and Sigard wore similar medallions, as did others in the crowd.
"Ragnar's show of courage and ability against this village's most skilled warrior
has this day earned him the greatest honor we can bestow." Ragnar bowed his
head and Gudrek hung the medallion around his neck. "Today he takes his place
among the greatest warriors of this tribe. Today he joins the Odinsblade!" As
the assembled Vikings cheered again, Jun watched Sigard rise to his feet and
angrily push his way into the crowd.

Top

Part II

Only the warriors had been allowed in the ceremony, so Jun and Bragi resumed
their wandering through Wotankeld. "I suppose it's not such a bad place," Jun
said. "Nice, in it's own way." It certainly had a beautiful stave church, and
as they studied its many carvings of gods and creatures, Bragi told Jun the
stories and legends behind each of them.

They were just making their way back into the village when they heard the faint
peal of a war horn. It was quickly joined by others, and Jun saw Gudrek step
from a nearby longhouse. "To the pass!" he bellowed, and Viking warriors spilled
from alleys and longhouses and made their way towards the gates.

The horns built and echoed off the peaks above the village as Jun and Bragi
followed behind, and when they reached the mouth of the pass they found the
warriors gathered around a dark-bearded man listening intently to a gasping
runner. Gudrek pushed his way to the front of the crowd. "What's happened, my
thane?"

The older man held up a hand to silence the thanesman as the runner continued.
"Conrack's men . . . They side with giant warriors . . . armed with strange,
terrible weapons. Messengers down on. . . the beach." A Viking handed the runner
a skin of water and the thane sat on his haunches for a moment, fingering the
charm that hung around his neck-a Hammer of Thor.

Finally he stood and turned to the Vikings. "The Betrayer's men are raiding
Kopperud. Many of you were with me in Utherby. Those of you who were not have
heard the stories-villages in ruins, men and women alike hung with spikes and
marked with strange symbols unlike any rune."

"Now Conrack's armies have come to our lands, and would attack those who lie
under the protection of the runestones. With this news, and accounts of his
forces, I begin to fear that he has betrayed far more than the Laws of Odin.
We cannot allow this to stand. I call upon the Odinsblade-to the ships!"

Top

Vikings scattered to collect their weapons and armor. Jun turned to leave,
but Bragi held her arm. She turned back to see Gudrek still at the thane's side.
"Jurt, there's something I should tell you," he began, as the thane turned and
saw Ragnar standing nearby, the silver medallion of the Odinsblade hanging around
his neck.

"When did this occur?" asked the thane quietly.

"After the holmgang," explained Gudrek. "With only a short sword, he nearly
bested Sigard. I might have waited for a true trial, but with Conrack's men
so near, we'll need every skilled warrior in the village at our side. . ."

The thane walked to where Ragnar waited and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"This will be more than a battle against some misguided peasants, Ragnar. From
the tales we've heard, you could believe we are setting off to face the very
forces of darkness."

"I know, father," said Ragnar. "But you know I have trained with every weapon
in this village since long before I was bearded." The young warrior dropped
to one knee and held his sword before him. "In battle I will earn this honor.
This you know, and this I swear."

Jun watched as the thane considered Ragnar for a long moment and then said,
"Very well. Go collect my weapons and armor, and arm yourself with anything
else you can find. Gudrek will not be able to command Conrack's men to grant
you mercy."

Thane and thanesman watched as Ragnar dashed off. "He cannot be a true member
of the Odinsblade until he passes the trial, Gudrek," said the thane. "Do you
understand what you've done? If my son is lost in battle today, he will not
be recorded on the stones."

"He will be on the stones, Jurt," Gudrek said. "He is young, but one of the
most skilled warriors I've ever seen. It will be his deeds recorded, not his
death."

The thane began his walk down the pass. "I only hope the gods agree."

Top

Part III

"We're following the Vikings, right?" said Jun, though she knew Bragi led them
toward the heart of the village.

"Many others will be taking that path," said the old man, as a group of children
hurried past them carrying sheaves of oats. "For now our place is here. There
is still much you must see."

"But what about Ragnar?" she complained. "Shouldn't we find out what happens
to him?" The old man paused. Concentrating, he reached out and placed his hand
on Jun's forehead. She felt a sudden chill and closed her eyes-

Ragnar settled into a place at the oars. Two rows before him, his friend
Alric mounted his shield over the gunwales and took up his own oar. Throughout
the longship the village's bravest warriors checked their weapons and tightened
their armor. Mindful of his oath, Ragnar vowed that he would fight to the death
against Conrack's raiders to prove his courage- to earn the medal of the Odinsblade
and a place in the halls of Valhalla.

On the shore sat the tiny boat that had carried the messengers from Kopperud.
Only one had survived, and he looked to be mumbling incoherently as a woman
treated his wounds. Ragnar's father and Gudrek stood nearby, until the woman
turned and shook her head.

Walking down the beach, Gudrek helped the thane aboard the longship. The
thane took his place at the ship's prow, while the thanesman made his way to
the rear of the boat and the steering board and barked, "Ready oars!"

Alric looked back at Ragnar and grinned. "Ready, warrior?"

The thane raised his axe. "To glory!" he cried. Pushing the ships through
the crashing surf, the last warriors clambered over the sides. Then fourscore
warriors pulled as one and the ships moved out to sea-

Top

Jun's eyes snapped open. She was still in the village, near an amused Bragi.
"I . . ." she stammered. "I could hear his thoughts like the waves on the shore!
I could smell the sweat on his leathers, feel the planking beneath his feet!
What. . ." The skald simply put a finger to her lips and continued to smile.