Raid of the Wolves: A fast-paced Viking Saga filled with action and adventure (Ormstunga Saga Book 2) by Cook Donovan

Author:Cook, Donovan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Ulf realised something wasn’t right as soon as he woke up. The last thing Ulf remembered was sitting around a large fire with his friends, their moods as dark as a moonless sky. But the fire was gone, and so were his friends. Ulf rubbed the sleep from his eyes while surveying his surroundings. It felt familiar, but Ulf didn’t know where he was. All Ulf knew was that it was not in the field with the men of Thorgilsstad.

“Snorri? Oddi? Thorbjorn?” His voice echoed through the air. Ulf waited for their responses, but none came. “Brak? Drumbr?” Nothing.

The world around him was dark, but not the darkness you would expect from the night. A different darkness, one that weighed you down. It pressed on your body until your legs could not take it anymore and buckled. Ulf had been here before and had hoped never to see this place again. He looked for the hill that was as familiar to him as the boots he wore, but could not find it. Neither was Ulf standing in the marsh filled with blood and bone. The ground he stood on was dry. But Ulf still got the sense that he had been here before. Wind blew over his skin, causing him to shiver. He waited to hear his name whispered in it. That’s what happened in the dreams before the battle at The Giant’s Toe. But the wind did not whisper his name, or the name of his father. Instead, it carried a scent on it. A scent familiar to Ulf and one he had hoped never to smell again.

Ulf followed the breeze, hoping it would guide him to a place where he could get some answers. It took him to a farmstead, just like the one they had been ambushed at earlier in the day. The hairs on his arms stood on end as Ulf walked through the gate. His hand went to his side, where Ormstunga would normally be. But she was not there, neither was Olaf’s axe. Why can’t I ever have weapons in these dreams? The scent drew him further into the farmstead, towards the house he had looked in during the day. Ulf stared at the house, his hands shaking as a bead of sweat ran down his face. He would not like what was in there. But Ulf had no choice. The dream would not let him go until he saw what it wanted to show him. He looked around, swallowing hard as he half expected the troll from his previous dreams to jump out and attack him. But the farmstead was eerily quiet. There was no sound at all. Cautiously, he moved towards the house, the familiar fear growing inside him. Ulf stopped in front of the closed door. Whatever the dream wanted to show him was behind that door. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door, but it wouldn’t open.

“Come on,” Ulf groaned as he pushed harder, but the door was as unyielding as the winter’s cold.

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