Page 5 of Bats Out of Hell (Vikings Rock #1)

S ilence fell suddenly—a cold expansion of nothing that spread around the crowd. It spread over the frozen earth and coated the buildings.

Urd hoped someone would volunteer to go with Haakon. It would be certain death for his son to sail alone. There would have been no point saving him from Ravn’s dagger.

Then suddenly, a deep voice punctured the quiet. “I will! I will go with him.”

Gunnar elbowed from the crowd. A seven-foot giant, he was an experienced sailor and fine warrior. He’d lost his wife and children to the sweating disease the previous winter.

“Excellent!” Haakon pointed at him. “My good friend Gunnar can see a better future with me. Who else will join us?”

“I will. I’m with you.”

Urd spotted Egil throwing down the hood of his cape and scooping up a shield and sword.

“It will be an honor to sail with you, Haakon.” Egil marched onto the pier, his footfalls heavy thuds.

“The honor is mine.” Haakon beamed at him and adjusted his arm ring, which had slipped in the fight.

“Count me in.”

“And I.”

Two more strong young Vikings stepped forward. They were both skilled hunters and warriors.

Urd glanced at Ravn. His eyebrows were drawn together and his lips flattened. Siggy rested a soothing hand on his upper arm.

“We have a crew,” Haakon bellowed. “And so bring in the ropes, we have everything we need. We will hit the seas this very day and start our new life.”

“Father,” Astrid said, clasping Urd’s hand. “Are you really going to let him leave?”

“ Ja , it is for the best.” Urd nodded sadly.

She glanced at Ravn. “It is not the best for me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ravn and I have never…we do not think the same. I fear that if I stay, he will be cruel to me.”

“I do not believe that. He is stern, single-minded, but not cruel.”

She swallowed and tilted her chin. “When you are feasting with the gods, he will force me to marry and then, when I am a wife and mother, he will refuse me battle when that is what I am trained for. It is what I live for. I am a shield-maiden to my core. It is in every drop of my blood.”

Urd suddenly realized what his daughter was saying. “No, don’t go.” His heart squeezed. “I beg you, Astrid.”

“I have to.” Her eyes quickly filled with moisture. A tear escaped the right one and ran swiftly down her cheek. She swiped irritably at it. “I cannot stay here. Not without Mother, not without you.”

“But I am still here,” Urd said. “I am not dead and in the company of the gods just yet.”

“Which makes it near impossible to leave.”

“ Near impossible.”

She threw her arms around him, embracing him tightly. “I’m sorry, Father. I am so sorry. I’m sorry.”

He clung to her, breathing in her sweet, lavender scent, and closed his eyes. What did the future hold for his wild daughter? He didn’t know, but what he did know was he wouldn’t be around to see it…he wouldn’t be around to help her.

“Haakon will look out for you. I know he will,” he said with a croak of emotion in his voice. If he’d crowned Haakon, his beloved, misunderstood daughter would be staying. But it was too late to change the fates now. “I agree with your decision.”

“You do?” She pulled back, her cheeks wet and blotched now.

“ Ja , he loves you, as do I.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Understanding doesn’t mean I want you to leave.” He touched her cheek. “You are a knotted soul, Astrid, with all the twisted kinks of both myself and your mother. I wish you well, I wish your future husband well, and your unborn children.” He paused. “And I will give offerings to the gods to look down on you from their feasting table.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” She kissed each of his cheeks then sniffed loudly.

“I will see you in another realm, my beautiful daughter, and we will feast and dance and be merry.”

“We will, Father.” With a flick of her cloak, she strode from him.

His arms ached instantly. Astrid was the only daughter he’d been blessed with, and although her antics as a child had caused his hair to gray faster than it should have, and her stubbornness as an adult had given him stomach pains at times, he’d miss her desperately.

“Goodbye, brother Ravn.” She waved her hand at the new king.

“And where are you going?” he snapped.

“With Haakon!” She threw her head back and laughed then broke into a run, holding the handle of her dagger with one hand and shield with the other. “Wait! Wait for me, brother.”

“Astrid! Come back here!” Ravn shouted. “I order you, as your king, do not leave Drangar!”

“You can’t fucking stop me!” She carried on running.

“Astrid!” Ravn clenched his fists and broke away from his wife. “Get back here—now.” His brow was marked by three deep frown lines. “I demand it.”

Astrid ignored him and leaped onto the boat.

A gruff cheer went up from the men inside. She was well respected as a hard worker and they knew the more hands on deck, the better off they’d be.

“And so she escapes.” Orm spun a circle in front of Urd’s face. “The flame-haired beauty who has you wrapped around her finger, Father.” He laughed. “So much so that you do not order her back even when the new king commands it. You allow her to disobey the first order he has given.”

“It is right that she goes,” Urd said, flicking his hand and wishing he could flick Orm away.

“Ah, and is it right that Haakon go too?” Orm stood still and raised his eyebrows.

“ Ja , I believe it is preferable to his death on this day.”

“So you are happy to see your children leave this town, this land? This cold, barren, crop-less land, a place that holds a future of famine and sickness and war.”

“Orm, watch what you say. Odin sees everything, remember. He will not like you making your own predictions.”

Orm pressed his finger to his lips. “Watch what I say…I can do that, but I will say one last thing before I start watching.” He flung back his head, eyes closed, and shouted at the sky. “Goodbye, Drangar! I bid you farewell. And, Father, I bid you farewell too, which is what you’ve always wanted—to see me gone. Out of sight. You said it yourself. Out of sight. Well, now you can celebrate because not one, not two, but three of your children are leaving. Your favorite number—you are indeed blessed. Three of us are leaving you.”

“Orm! Do not…”

But Urd was speaking to Orm’s back because Orm had taken off, following in the footsteps of his brother and sister. He sprinted through the crowd with a wild whoop and then raced along the pier, the wolf head of his cape bobbing on his back.

The longboat, now unmoored, was creeping away from its dock, a black void spreading beneath it.

“Wait for me!” Orm yelled, excitement ripping through his voice. “Brother dearest, sister, oh, sweet one, wait for me! Wait. For. Me.”

He sped up, then hurtled himself into the air, arms and legs flailing.

The crowd watched enraptured. Eyes wide.

Would he make it?

And then he landed on the boat with a loud whump and a call of glee. He punched the air and clung to a rope. “Goodbye, Father. Goodbye, Ravn. I miss you already!” He laughed excitedly. “Whoops! No, I don’t.”

And just like that, Urd had said goodbye to not one, but three children. All bound for the high seas and new adventures. Was he sad? Ja , of course he was. Astrid held a special place in his heart, and he knew he was one of the few people she truly loved. Haakon, he was glad he was alive, and Orm, well, life would be easier without his crazy youngest child around.

So he hoped only good things for them, a life free of the gods’ anger and full of love and dreams.

It was all he could do now. Hope.

*

Haakon ducked to avoid being lashed once more by a wild wave. It was as though the sea were boiling beneath them. Bubbling, rolling, slapping up against itself, and whipping the wooden hull of the boat.

His crew was struggling to maintain control. Heck, staying upright and holding their oars was hard enough.

Above them, gulls circled, hoping for food, calling to one another. But they wouldn’t get anything. The stocks aboard the new longboat had not been as plentiful as Haakon had hoped and he’d berated himself countless times during the last weeks for not checking before spontaneously leaping on deck and setting sail.

“We need to find land,” Astrid called as she heaved back on an oar. She’d battled the ocean as well as any man. Strong and healthy, she had steely determination.

“For the love of Freya, there must be land,” Orm yelled over a clap of thunder. “There are gulls.” He also dragged on an oar. “They nest somewhere.”

“They can fly many miles.” Haakon wiped the sea salt from his eyes and stared into the distance. The watery horizon had blurred into the raven-black sky. The clouds were as menacing as Thor’s hammer and likely as heavy too.

But that was north and they were traveling west, hoping to strike a bay or harbor in Lothlend. He’d been to this green, hilly land with Ravn a few years ago. They’d come across a small settlement ripe for the picking. The people’s treasures were conveniently housed in one place, a large structure called a “church” with windows full of colored glass. And the people had cowered, cried, pleaded for their lives as Haakon and Ravn, along with their men, had piled up a cart and taken everything shiny and bejeweled they could find.

Upon their return, Urd had been so pleased with the stash, he’d thrown a huge banquet for everyone in Drangar and sacrificed three goats to Odin.

The boat lurched to the right then tilted to the left. Another wave broke against them, sending spray over their last barrel of drinking water.

They were getting desperate. Haakon was beginning to wonder if this was in fact the worst situation he’d ever found himself in out at sea. And if it was, he could kick himself for the fact Astrid was on the boat.

If anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself.

“Maybe it has started. Ragnarok is here!” Gunnar shouted through a mouthful of sea spray. “And this isn’t just the end of us, but the end of the world and all the mighty gods.”

“If it is, we will fight like the warriors we are,” Orm yelled, holding his face to the black sky. He let out a blood-curdling shriek.

A forked bolt of lightning streaked overhead. It was followed by the raging, thunderous drumming of Thor, and then more lightning flashed in big, blinding sheets.

Haakon stared west, clinging to two ropes as the boat went nearly up on its aft as it struck a wave head on.

There. What was that?

His heart rate picked up. A nugget of hope dared to reveal itself. Had he seen the tiny flicker of flames? If so, there must be land.

He waited for the next curtain of brilliant bright light to fill the sky. And when it did, he saw it.

A curved beach lined with a cliff and a forest.

“Over there,” he yelled, pointing and almost falling overboard because he’d let go of his hold and the boat was pitching downward. “Land. Land. This is an omen that we will survive. The gods are indeed with us.”

“Land? Where?” Orm said, standing but quickly being knocked back to his seat. He resumed rowing.

“ Ja . Land, to the west. Turn, turn that way.” Haakon dropped down and grabbed an oar. He threw his strength into turning the trajectory of the boat. His strong crew helped and a full-on battle with the monstrous waves began.

He was wet through, but sweat still soaked his armpits and the gutter of his spine. He huffed and puffed, a rush of energy in his veins pushing him on. “Keep going. Keep going. We will not be defeated by Njord. His wily ways with wind and sea will not take our souls this day.”

“Njord, be appeased,” Orm shouted from beneath his wolf hood. “And we will honor you with many sacrifices.” He was breathless. “And send you many virgins…if you bless us with mercy.”

“Pull! Pull!” Haakon yelled, getting the rowers in synchrony. “Keep going.”

Astrid was working hard, her hair plastered to her face and her eyes alive with the battle. She grunted and pulled, strong and fearlessly.

Soon, he would have her on dry land. It was a promise he made to himself.

A wave curled overhead, a sea serpent of froth and spray and icy arrowheads. It hit Haakon full-on in the face, but he spat the water from his mouth and didn’t pause heaving on his oar.

Gunner sat to his right. He’d removed his wet fur cloak and tunic and his cold flesh sparkled, his muscles bunching and flexing beneath his skin. He grunted with each lunge on his oar, his dark eyes narrowed and his teeth gritted.

“We’re not far now,” Haakon shouted. “We will make this landfall.”

“To the land!” Astrid yelled.

A chorus of shouts and whoops . The sail clapped, the hull creaked, and the ropes strained.

A sudden, deafening bang. The boat rolled to the right. Egil dropped his oar and was sent flying backward, legs in the air.

Astrid screamed as her oar was ripped from her hand and taken overboard.

“What the fuck?” Orm yelled.

“We’ve hit rock,” Haakon said, watching in horror as the wooden planks beneath his feet splintered upward and the sea rushed in to circle his ankles. “We’re being torn apart.”

“Land is just there,” Orm yelled. “We’ll have to swim for it.”

“In this ugly water?” Gunnar said, gripping the side of the boat and pushing up from the water that had engulfed his seat. “We will die.”

“We will die here. We have no choice,” Astrid said, also standing. “Pray the gods are with you and that you live to see the sun again.”

A huge wave cascaded over her, frothing, sizzling, thumping, and when it receded Astrid was no longer on the boat.

“Sister!” Orm cried, standing.

“Abandon. Swim. That way!” Haakon stood up on the side of the boat, clutching a rope. He spotted the land, clearer now—a forest-lined sandy bay—then swept his scrutiny over the black, foreboding water, searching desperately for Astrid.

She was nowhere to be seen. “Astrid! Astrid!” His stomach lurched. His heart thudded. “Where are you?”

There was nothing else for it. He hurled himself into the air. A punch to his side as he was hit by a wave, then nothingness turned to freezing water, the chill of it like a thousand daggers driving into his flesh.

The bellowing wind was replaced by the crash of water in his ears. He was tossed this way and that but saw dusky daylight and kicked, struggling against the weight of his cape and boots.

Bursting upward, he gasped for air and was hit in the face with sharp hailstones—adding to his torment. And right in front of him, the hull of the stricken boat loomed, black, huge, and hurtling toward him at speed.

A searing pain over his temple.

Then…blackness.