Odin's Betrayal (The Charlemagne's Cross Series) by Donovan Cook

Author:Donovan Cook
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Boldwood Books
Published: 2023-04-11T00:00:00+00:00

14

‘What the—?’ Amund asked when he heard the scream behind him, like a wild beast set free. He turned and saw Sven on his knees and screaming at the dark clouds.

Egil had just enough time to glance at Amund before Sven jumped to his feet and stormed at the scarred-lipped warrior. Taken aback by this sudden turn, Egil was too slow to lift his sword and could do nothing as Sven headbutted him in the chest and, as the warrior landed on his back, Sven stepped over him and grabbed his knife from his belt before stabbing him in the neck and cutting his throat open. Blood squirted up in the air like a volcano erupting and drenched Sven, but he ignored it as he rushed at the next warrior.

‘Kill him!’ Amund screamed.

Sven ducked under the sword of the nearest warrior, turned, and stabbed the man in the back. As the warrior arched backwards, Sven grabbed his long hair and pulled the knife free before he buried it in the man’s neck. He turned to the warrior standing beside him, the man too shocked to move, and kicked him hard in the leg, just above the knee. There was a loud crack as the warrior’s leg broke and bent in on itself. The warrior screamed as he collapsed, but was quickly silenced when Sven stamped down on his head, which exploded like a pumpkin and covered Sven’s foot and leg in blood and brains.

Sven, his red face creased and teeth bared, turned and faced Amund, the only man still standing. He felt the bone splinters and brains between his toes, but ignored it as he panted heavily. The blood coursing through his veins was filled with a fire he had not felt in a long time. The anger and strength that came with it was intoxicating. A drink sweeter than any ale he had ever drunk. ‘Let my grandson go.’ The words came out strained, making him sound like a beast which had only just learnt how to speak.

Amund stared at him, his face as pale as Charles’s, his hand trembling as he lowered the sword from the boy’s neck. He glanced at Thora and saw the grin on her face.

‘You’re a dead man,’ she said, and Amund looked at Sven again as he stalked closer.

Sven’s senses were more alive than ever. His heart was hammering away in his chest as if about to break free. He felt the breeze on his skin and ignored Freya’s attempt to calm him. The blood pounded in his ears, sounding like Odin laughing as Sven broke the oath to never touch a weapon again or spill the blood of another man he had made the night his wife had died. But Sven did not think of that now. All he thought about was ripping Amund’s head off his shoulders. ‘Fight me,’ he growled, but Amund only backed away from the boy and him. ‘Fight me!’ He beat his chest with his fist.

Amund shook his head as he took a step back, his sword trembling in his hand.

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