Vikings: Valhalla Harald Novels & Stories

Whoever it was, he was speaking their language. "Døkkálfar! Hata að Døkkálfar," one of the other Vikings shouted back. I was about to point my weapon in the direction of the closer voice when the intruder beside us finally stepped into my line of sight. I was just as floored as I was relieved to see Dimitri standing next to Lissa and me. He stepped into the water between us and the Vikings with his hands raised in the air. "Nei, né Døkkálfar," his deep voice had a calming note as he spoke to them. "Hægr þjóð. Skap-góðr"

Both of them swore their allegiance to their father, and both vowed to fight to the death against the night creatures. Julius showed no pity or remorse towards his brother and never plotted against him; everything seemed pretty reasonable for the two of them. Both Julius and Harald had a wife, and each had only one child; Julius had a daughter, and Harald had a son. Julius's daughter was named Lagertha of Stockholm, and Harald's son was named Brant of Midland. They raised their children and made sure they were protected and kept safe from the night, and they were warned never to walk outside at night. And so, Julius and Harald remained loyal to each other and lived on to defend their people

Yet Valkira was standing in front of them, calling them losers like they were nothing. Taros stepped forward, his boot crunching over a piece of broken crystal. His face reddened as his fangs came out. "So, you're Valkira?" he spat. "The one who messed with my family's business?" He stepped closer, his voice low as he stared her down. “I’ve heard a lot about you. The dead princess who crawled back from the ocean. The woman who thinks she can challenge the great packs and get away with it.”

(Julian’s P.O.V) Her wolf looked ethereal when it was glowing with the blue light surrounding her, her howling like a song calling on the Moon Goddess. That’s when I heard the water rushing and the howls and snarls of our warriors. We had crashed her shifting party, knowing this would be the perfect opportunity to grab her. What we hadn’t counted on was her being mated to the future Alpha King of Màni. That was not in the report from our spies, they hadn’t done their jobs right even with the help of Beatrix

She gingerly rubbed my thumb: "Here is a tale of what the gods become, in an age when iron eagles pierce the clouds like swords, lightning is how we shall, trapped infantile and wasted, no might of Thur but bound like ragged Loki in a box, shall be enslaved by human chattel, to plough fields and suck the soul of the world: this is what happens when the spirits are forgot, and in Eric the Red's land, our children's children's bones shall remember Hela, Jotun Queen of the Dead." Captured, by my Valkyrie's wit, by this horsewoman Tuniska's skaldic arts, I surmounted her chest like a kitten, her breasts like stone fruit for a rabbit squll to nibble on, tender to the touch, and I plucked her chee

And then he appeared. Guerrero Valanti stepped through the gates, tall, broad-shouldered, and imposing. Even in age, his presence commanded awe. His hair showed streaks of silver, his face marked by the years, yet every line spoke of dignity and authority. The crowd surged around him, their chanting reaching a fever pitch. “Guerrero Valanti! Vikings are back! Vikings will rule!” Lucia’s knees nearly buckled as the army of citizens and soldiers alike knelt in respect and devotion. The excitement was palpable, almost electric. Guerrero Valanti’s eyes scanned the crowd with a quiet, commanding intensity, until they landed on her.

Brand had forgotten what it felt like – the all-consuming need for the blood of his enemies to be spilled on the ground at his feet. Brand shook his head another scream was silenced as he ripped out another throat. The blood dripped from his long snout as he took a breath and looked around him. Leather-clad warriors lay around him, some with eyes open staring at the sky as if looking for the Valkyries coming to take them to Valhalla. Brand snorted. Good luck. He couldn't believe the gods would want any of these followers of a deranged leader in their feasting halls.

He says fiercely and I stand on my feet to respond with the first line of our war cries. "Never shall I lower my head before any enemy or challenge!" My men and my Uncles also swiftly stand on their feet to fiercely declare... "Never shall I bend my knees before any lord or chieftain. Into the dark valley, I shall march. Holding my axes, my wolves at alert. Let us sound the war cry of those who dare to be brave. If I die today then I pray my soul be welcome in Valhalla. The war is over, then let me feast with my Lord Odin.

I answered. “Hm,” Harlyn replied. “That may be the one thing that humans and Inhumans have in common.” She said. Then Harlyn approached me. “Look at me, Vali.” Her demand wasn’t demeaning, but I knew that if I didn’t, she’d follow more assertively. So I did, and when I did, Harlyn simply wrapped her arms around my neck, embracing me. Was this a surprise? Yes, yes, it definitely was. “Don’t worry, Vali, the wildlings won’t get you.” When she released her hug and walked away, she added. “You know what all of those vassals have in common, Vali? The ones who were attacked and or killed?”

That is a very bold and courageous step but now that I think of it, I don’t know how I can make that happen. The Vikings and Black Harem hatred goes beyond just a regular one. Any Viking citizen that sets foot on the Black Harem land is immediately killed and vice versa. How am I supposed to end such feud? “I’ll see him tomorrow,” I finally said to Cleo who nodded and took his leave. I retired to bed with heaviness in my heart.