Blood of Midgard (The Army of One Book 1) by Baptiste Pinson Wu

Author:Baptiste Pinson Wu [Wu, Baptiste Pinson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little Conqueror Press
Published: 2024-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

“Why do many Einherjar choose the bottom of the cliff? Simple, the back of Valhöll is worse than Hel. Not that any of those in front seem to care.”

Knut Ormson, back-hall fighter

10

Asgard,

When I emerged from the Bifröst, I remembered nothing for a few heartbeats. There was no pain, no worries, not even the memory of what had just happened. My face remembered a kind of pain, the phantom of it anyway. It was a blissful moment, like the morning of a sumptuous feast that leaves you by some miracle without a hungover. Then men gasped for air, and I was no longer by myself.

“Frigg’s ass!” Bjorn spat as he regained the edge of the water.

Everything came back in a sharp, icy splash of memories and pain. The burning beam, the cave with the feathers, Hakon, Lif, Einar, Ulf.

“Ulf!” I called.

Asgard’s sky was as beautiful as ever, spotted with perfect, fluffy clouds and a gentle breeze to keep them moving.

“Where’s my da?” a voice I knew well asked somewhere behind me. Eigil was on the brink of panic, so said his trembling voice. He was helping Snekke out of his soaked brynja, and for once, the latter wasn’t speaking.

“He died like a moron,” Bjorn said as he raised himself on the muddy ground. “Basically gave his head for the taking. Next time, you stay with us; this way, if he dies, your side will be shieldless.”

Eigil jumped from Snekke to Bjorn, caught him by the collar, and threw him out of the water and flat on his back. Besides Thor, I had never seen anyone toy with Bjorn like this. Bjorn gasped as Eigil straddled him, his large hands closing on Bjorn’s throat.

“Don’t you talk like this about my da, you hear me, you dumb…goat-fucker,” Eigil barked in a flash of anger. I got on my feet and locked my arm around his neck. It took all I had to drag Eigil off my friend.

“Your father died on the field,” I said as Eigil tried to find a gap in my armlock. “We could not get him in the hall, where we all burned. It might be days before he’s here. So why don’t you calm down until then, huh?”

I was sick of violence at this point. I was tired, angry, sad, and without patience. The truth was, I did not know if Einar would ever be back. If he had taken his nail, it could still take him days to cross the Bifröst, the time needed for crows or some other beasts to eat his flesh. Unless his body was offered to the flame by a gracious enemy or a surviving ally, though neither seemed likely.

Even if he had not taken the nail, the Valkyries might have chosen him if he fought bravely enough, and he would be waiting atop the cliff. From where I stood, the slain being carried to the top of the cliff looked like one of those green lights illuminating the northern nights.

After dropping our new

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