Valkia the Bloody (Champions of Chaos Book 2) by Sarah Cawkwell

Author:Sarah Cawkwell [Cawkwell, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Library
Published: 2012-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

TEN

The Breath Before the Plunge

It was the nature of the northern weather to turn like a savage animal and this year was no exception to that rule. Within hours the occasional snow flurry had become a steady precipitation. As it had always done, the arrival of the winter brought a strange silence to the camp of the Schwarzvolf. It muffled the tread of people’s feet, killed what little birdsong filled the air and even the people lowered their voices. By the time Valkia stepped from her tent, the entire camp was covered in a blanket of white.

It was early and whilst the weak winter sun shone, it did little to alleviate the chill in the air. Valkia reached back into the tent for her furs and shrugged them on across her shoulders. She felt calm and in control despite the horrific visions that had plagued her in the night. There was something about the first true snows of winter that made her feel… comfortable. This was her heritage.

The communal fire which was always kept burning was barely more than glowing embers at the moment, but there were several children working on banking it. This was one of the many chores that were given to the young people of the tribe and she watched them with a slightly indulgent air for a few minutes. Finally, she crossed the camp and accepted a cup of a hot beverage from one of them. It was a delicious drink, made from the leaves of various herbs that grew in the area. The aromatic scent belied a preparation that was in truth, quite bitter; honey was added to sweeten it. Sipping at the beverage, Valkia welcomed the warmth it brought even as it burned down her throat.

A sound overhead caught her attention and she looked upwards. A dark shadow moved across her face and far above her, a mountain bird of prey screamed as it rode the thermals. The bird was enormous, its wings fully stretched as it glided free, revelling in the thrill of the hunt and rejoicing in its simple existence. Valkia watched it for a moment, fascinated as she always was by the efficacy of creatures who lived their lives on the wing.

With a cry of triumph, the bird dived downwards, having spied its unfortunate prey and disappeared briefly over the crest of a hill. Scant seconds later it was aloft again, a dead rodent hanging from its talons. It was quite wonderful to watch and Valkia, child of a deeply superstitious people, saw it as an omen.

Today, she and her assembled party of warriors would begin their pilgrimage. The sighting of the raptor, revered almost as much as the black wolves of the hills by her people, filled her with great confidence and there was a definite swagger in her stride as she moved back across the camp towards the tent shared by her daughters.

Their relationship had never been particularly close but as Eris and Bellona had grown, Valkia had seen herself reflected in them.

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