(eng) Mickey Zucker Reichert - Renshai Chronicles 03 by The Children of Wrath

Author:The Children of Wrath [Wrath, The Children of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

The Ultimate Sacrifice

Never surrender.

—Colbey Calistinsson

SKÖGUL and three of her sisters revealed a massive gate, by magic, in the fence around Valhalla. Dressed in golden armor that shimmered like fire in the sunlight, the Valkyries all clutched spears, points angled toward the heavens. Though hard, Skögul’s expression suggested no particular malice, despite Freya overruling her command; and she opened the gate a crack for Kevral’s entrance. The other three muscled in to assure that no one attempted to accompany the Renshai, though none of her companions showed any inclination to violate their oath to the goddess. Ra-khir did, however, catch Kevral’s hand as she started to move. “Careful, my love. Try to avoid a battle if you can.” His eyes beseeched a promise she could not give him.

Acid seemed to scald Kevral’s veins, the desperate need for battle irresistible. On the walk over, she had finally considered Mundilnarvi’s odd name. Andvari had added the final clue by stating that it sounded like the ancient form of Mundinari. Surely, she would face a warrior with centuries in Valhalla to learn his craft. In that time, he had surely fought many Renshai. Her tricks and swift maneuvers would not catch him off-guard. This would surely prove the greatest battle of her existence, her final opportunity to fight Einherjar. If she survived, she accomplished a worthy feat; and, if she died, she would do so with honor. No matter how competent, this Einherjar would earn himself an admirable battle.

“Kevral.” Tae tugged at her other sleeve. “See if you can work a deal that he gives us the shard even if you lose.”

Ra-khir turned his Eastern companion a grim-lipped glare that Tae deliberately ignored.

“You may have to do better than your best,” the Easterner reminded. “The future of all children depends on you.”

Kevral fixed her gaze on the swarming chaos of battle. The urge seized her to dart to the center of the conflict, joining ancestors and bygone enemies in a wild flurry of thrust and dodge. Their war howls stoked her excitement, melody to the underplay of thumping hammers and clashing steel.

Giving up on the possibility of peaceful diplomacy, Ra-khir spoke the best words he could have chosen, Colbey’s own. “Never surrender, Kevral. Never surrender.”

Kevral stepped through the gates at Skögul’s side. As the metal snapped closed, cutting off the sounds of her companions’ concerns and encouragements, Skögul pointed. “That’s Mundilnarvi.”

Kevral followed the gesture to a massive Northman leaning against the fence, apart from the battles. A knotted, dark green scarf covered the top of a head that seemed too large even for his massive torso. Sandy war braids hung past shoulders that bunched like boulders beneath a bulky leather tunic. He wore a massive, broad-bladed sword at his right hip, and a hand ax graced a loop at his left. Green eyes studied her hungrily, like prey. The warrior belted out a laugh. He spoke in a thickly accented bass, his structure archaic: “The contaminated bloodline grows puny—weaker with each generation.” He held up an irregular shard of sapphire, then flipped it into an inner pocket beneath his tunic.

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