Odinn's Child: The Heroes of the North Live On (Viking Trilogy) (No. 1)

By Tim Severin

In 1001, the younger baby, Thorgils Leiffson, son of Leif the fortunate and Thorgunna, arrives at the seashores of Greenland to be stated by way of a tender woman—Gudrid. Thorgils is a rootless personality of quicksilver intelligence and suppleness. He has inherited his mother’s skill of moment sight, and his mentors educate him the traditional methods and warn him of the invasion of the “White Christ” into the land of the “Old Gods.” Guided through a stressed quest for experience and the wanderlust of his favourite god, Odinn, Thorgils’ fortunes will take him into worlds of unbelievable risk and discovery.

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I used to be dizzy with soreness and while i attempted to maneuver, i discovered i may simply flip my face some distance sufficient to 1 aspect to respire. As I lay there semi-paralysed, I watched from flooring point the struggle raging above and round me. I known immediately the Irish chief, Murchad. He used to be armed with a protracted, heavy sword and utilizing it two-handed to thrust and sweep as he carved his direction during the disorganised swine formation. He had no use for a safeguard simply because absolutely armoured bodyguards stored velocity with him on either side, blocking off the counter-blows and leaving Murchad the distinction of killing his competitors. I observed of Brodir's most sensible males move down prior to him, not more than 5 paces from the place I lay, after which Murchad used to be known as away through anyone shouting urgently in a tongue which, even within the waves of ache coming from my backbone and ribs, i may comprehend as Irish. Then somebody trode seriously on my outflung arm, and the sting of a gray cloak handed throughout my sight view. I closed my eyes, pretending to be lifeless, and after a moment's pause I opened them a slit and observed that it was once Wulf the Quarrelsome who had tramped over me. He nonetheless held his lengthy pike in his hand and was once headed for the large determine of Brodir, who used to be sweeping along with his battleaxe to fend off a frontal assault from extra of Ospak's males. i used to be too drained and in a country of outrage to shout a caution, whether I had notion to take action. It most likely may were the demise of me, for Gall-Gael and Ostmen proposal not anything of spearing a wounded guy mendacity at the battlefield. in its place I watched Wulf come inside of pike thrust of Brodir and pause, looking ahead to his probability. As Brodir's awl swept down on considered one of his adversaries, Wulf lunged. He was once aiming for the weakest spot in Brodir's recognized mail blouse, where within the armpit the place even the main skilful armourer unearths it most unlikely to make a ideal sign up for among the steel earrings which guard the shoulder and the torso. the purpose of the pike pierced the mail and carried into Brodir's aspect. the massive Manx chief staggered for a second, then turning, pulled the weapon loose. His face had long gone lethal light, even though i couldn't inform no matter if it was once from the discomfort of the stab or the surprising realisation that his talisman, the recognized mail jacket, had failed him. Wulf had stepped again part a velocity, nonetheless preserving the pike, its element rainy with Brodir's blood, after which stabbed back, hitting an analogous spot, most likely extra by means of strong good fortune than judgement. I had anticipated Brodir to counter-attack, yet to my dismay he started to retreat. He switched his battleaxe to his unhurt arm, and took a number of steps backwards, his physique hunched over to guard his wounded aspect whereas nonetheless swinging his battleaxe to maintain off his attackers. From his ungainly posture it used to be transparent that he was once damage, or even extra visible that he was once strongly right-handed and never in any respect conversant in utilizing a battleaxe together with his left hand. As Brodir sponsored away slowly from his attackers, it dawned on me that he shouldn't have been combating on my own. individuals of his battle band must have been to be had to guard their leader's retreat, yet nobody used to be coming to his tips.

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