Paths of the Norseman (The Norseman Chronicles Book 2) by Born Jason

Author:Born, Jason [Born, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Halldorr Publishing
Published: 2012-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

. . .

I was soaking wet with sweat when I finally made it back to the ship. We slapped Thorvald onto the deck just as the men used the oars to pull us free from the beach. The boat bobbed in the sea as the surf rolled into shore, and I slumped to my ass against the gunwale to catch my breath. While looking down at my waist, I saw that I was soaking wet not just from sweat, but also blood, Thorvald’s blood.

Based upon the volume covering my clothes, the man couldn’t have much left. It was a miracle of Jesus that he even yet lived. I knew now that he would die.

While we buffeted in the seas, I crawled over to Thorvald where Thorhall and others surrounded him. I roughly pushed them out of the way and hung my face above his own, saying, “I’ll speak to my brother now!” Upon seeing his face, I gasped audibly for he was white – white like the new snow falling in winter – white like the feathers of the gull – white like the face of a dead man. “You stupid bastard,” I yelled then closed my eyes as my first tear smacked into Thorvald’s cheek.

The tear temporarily revived him and he weakly raised his arm toward me. His flittering eyes were glossy like those of a blind man. He looked in the wrong direction then spoke with a feeble smile, “No, Halldorr, you are the bastard.” Then he gave a frail laugh. “I love you, my brother. I join my grandfather, my father, and my brother Thorstein with the One God in his hall now.” More of my tears streamed onto him. “Find a fine point of land near Kjalarnes. Bury me there and put a cross at my head. Then set a cross at my feet and forever call the place Krossanes after that.”

Then he died.

I rose to my feet and grabbed items from the hold, throwing them all over the ship. No one else said anything. Njordr watched silently from his place at the rudder. Thorhall leaned on the gunwale staring out to sea; he spit something from his mouth. I swore, I screamed, I swore again. I cried and cried like I was but a child. When I at last looked around the ship at the men pulling on the oars they all wept as well. We lost our commander that day, and we lost ten good men.

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