Day of the Dead by Petteri Hannila

Author:Petteri Hannila
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: honor, magic, gods, undead, vikings, odin, ragnarok
Publisher: Petteri Hannila

The red king had managed to progress far from the center of the board, but it was now surrounded by pieces of both colors. The old man had managed to take out two red pieces, but all his whites were still on the board. This phase of the game was extremely tense.

“Are you happy with your life?” he suddenly blurted, in between moves.

“That remark is no longer in the field of hospitality,” she replied, with a snap.

“Your life is good here, the village is prospering and your house is rich. Still, I cannot see a mother’s happiness in your eyes, nor a son toddling around your feet.” The man paused for a moment and a hint of sadness could be seen on his face. “How is your husband? Ambjorn is well-known for his ships, but not for a single warrior’s deed. Unlike his brother, Thorleik. Kings may not own his boats, but his sword has gained fame in both east and west alike. Did you choose poorly between the brothers?”

“It is not wise to anger the mistress of the house,” she replied with a hiss and moved a piece. Now, a white was caught between two reds and she removed it from the game. A quick exchange of moves followed, during which both sides lost many pieces and space was opened up on the board.

The sun grew dimmer still and a cold wind started to blow from the north. The air carried with it faint sounds that resembled wailing.

“It has started, can you hear it? The ones who died in their beds, the ones with cough and fever. Weak men, women and children, here they come.”

The villagers had been observing the sky and the darkening sun for a while now. The sounds in the air caused them to gather close to each other, grumbling and moving about nervously. Nobody seemed to know what to do next. Jofrid felt a chill in the cold wind and stood up from her bench.

“I have to take care of the people. They need me while Ambjorn is away.”

“Sit down!” His demand was like a giant’s growl. Still, not one of the villagers seemed to notice it. “The game is not yet finished, and you will not rise from the table until it is.”

She observed the suddenly angered man and wondered why nobody came to ask her advice. Nobody seemed to notice her or the man sitting across the table from her. Jofrid shouted to the passers-by, but none of them even looked at her. Slowly, she sat down again.

“Have you bewitched me, man, or am I dead? Are you who I think you are? Why do you torment me?”

“Why do the Norns spin their threads? Why can even gods not escape from them? It is useless to ponder, so play. And play well, since a loss always carries consequences.”

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