Immortal Enemies Read online

  Grabbing hold of the tree, I lifted my foot and stepped up high onto the exposed roots at the bottom that were the thickest and strongest. Balancing myself, I then slowly started to climb the tree at its odd angle. Hugging it with my upper body while using my feet and legs to move myself up the trunk. A couple of times my feet slipped, and I lost purchase of my position, causing me to slide down a little. I didn’t let that stop me, though.

  Hugging the tree harder, I used the strength in my upper and lower body to regain the small amount of purchase I had made and continue. I was halfway up the tree’s trunk when my confidence surged forward. The tree was slowly bending toward the ground under my weight. I could hear the wood inside and all around the tree breaking down and falling to the ground.

  Suddenly, a large crack echoed through the air, followed by the vibration of movement below my body. The tree trunk lurched forward and down a bit until the tips of the very top branches were touching the ground.

  My hopes soared.

  It was working!

  My plan was working, and I was going to tumble this tree to the ground.

  No sooner had I thought the notion, the tree lurched forward a little again, this time causing my body to slide more toward the top. Squeezing my thighs together around the log, I kept myself from falling completely forward. My hands grasped for leverage but found no hold.

  It was at that moment the top of the tree started to come back up— no longer touching the ground. The progress I had made was lessening, and my stomach sank to somewhere around my knees. The slippery bark combined with several icy spots higher up on the tree made me lose my grip. I could feel myself both sliding back down the tree and to the side.

  Eyes widening as I panicked and scrambled to clutch the tree to cease my movement, I realized too late there was no stopping the propulsion the tree had. The top of the tree bounced a bit with its rebound, shaking me, causing me to lose my grip on the tree completely.

  Alarm shot through me as I started to fall backward.

  I would have much rather felt that alarm all the way to the ground than what I felt next.

  Because of my angle, I had not seen the thick tree branch under and slightly to the side of my first position.

  I might not have seen it, but I certainly felt it a few seconds later.

  The juncture of my legs hit that branch hard, crushing my manhood and causing me to scream out in pain.

  Black dots floated in front of my eyes as my hand dropped to the offended area, then my body pitched sideways as I then fell off the branch and finally a few feet to the ground.

  The agony shooting through my groin was so bad that I barely felt my body hitting the cold, hard ground.

  There was no telling how long I laid there in a haze of pain.

  The suffering was so much that I didn’t hear the sounds of the forest, nor notice anything else that might have been going on around me.

  All I could feel was a pulsing pain.

  Misery the likes of which made me wonder if I would ever be able to piss again.

  Or have children for that matter.

  Eventually that pulsing pain turned into pulsing rage. Flowing through me in waves of energy that made me feel stronger than Mjölnir, Thor’s hammer.

  The frenzy was so maddening, I got off the ground, my mind buzzing as if bees swarmed it, and I stalked woodenly back so that I was roughly ten feet away from the gods be damned tree that had caused all of this rage.

  When I felt like I was far enough away, I turned on my heel, locked eyes with the tree, hunched my shoulders down as if I were about wrestle Ødger himself, bared my teeth in a muffled war cry, and then ran headlong into the side of that almost horizontal tree trunk.

  One second I was barreling toward the tree—determined to tackle it down and claim victory in this ridiculous little war between myself and a tree.

  Two blinks of an eye later, I knew nothing but oblivion.

  Three

  “Are you sure he is the one?”

  The voice that broke through my sleep was old and coarse. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end in warning and my balls shrink up in fear. Which caused me to groan loudly in pain as the reminder of my manhood hitting that branch came rushing back to me. I hurt so bad I was afraid I would never be able to piss again.

  “He cannot possibly be the one. Listen to him whine like a baby.”

  Keeping my eyes shut, I cringed at the sound of that wretched voice. Who was that talking? Or perhaps the better question was, what was that talking? Surely, nothing with a voice that horrible could be human?

  “He is the one.”

  My eyes popped open at the sound of the soft, lyrical voice that spoke those four words.

  If the first voice had belonged to a monster, then the second voice must have belonged to what the Christians would call an angel. From what I was told, angels could perform something called a ‘miracle’, which my father explained was supposed to be something nothing short of magic.

  What I found floating directly above me was so beautiful, only the gods themselves could have made it with magic.

  Red loose curly tresses of hair, surrounding a heart-shaped face with a pointed chin, and lips the color of my mother’s favorite wildflower graced her gorgeous face.

  It was her eyes that held me hostage, however.

  A green as bright as the first sprigs of spring grass, with small flecks of blue and silver like a sparkling sea in sunlight.

  Instantly I knew.

  These were the eyes I had waited two long years to see… and they were more beautiful than any treasure a Viking would kill for.

  Die for.

  My pain momentarily vanished.

  My mind went blank in awe.

  Even the heart in my chest ceased to beat for a breath of time.

  It felt as if my entire existence stilled at the sight of her.

  My treasure.

  And for the first time in my life, I truly understood what my father meant when he said some riches were worth the price of your blood.

  I would give it happily if it helped me obtain her.

  “Ah!” the wretched voice grumbled. “If he is the one, then surely your life is as good as forfeit, child. He stares at you like an addlebrained twit.”

  My eyelids did a slow blink at the insult. A small part of me wanted to turn my head and scowl in the direction of that awful voice, but nothing short of death could have pulled my gaze from the girl.

  A small smile tipped her lips, and never taking her eyes off me, she replied, “Leave him be Helga. He truly is the one.”

  At that comment, my brain started to function again, and I couldn’t help but squint at the girl’s last words. What was she implying? Just what exactly did she think I was?

  Pulling her upper body back, my own upper body followed, as if we were attached by some unseen tether, until I was sitting up as well. I watched as she turned her head to look up at someone. My scrutiny followed hers, and I found the source of that terrible voice.

  It was the old woman. She watched me skeptically, and was obviously more than a little disappointed by the sight of me judging from the downward slash of her manly brows over her squinty dark eyes.

  Raising my own brows in question at her, I used my chance to take in her measure. This was the Völva everyone in the village was so afraid of? With her small, hunched stature supported by her wooden staff that was taller than she was, I did not see where she would be such a great adversary.

  Frankly, it was ridiculous that grown men who had crossed seas, raided, and killed were terrified of this old, feeble woman.

  As if she could hear my inner thoughts, one of her dark, bushy eyebrows rose up, and she snorted.

  Suddenly, something large, slimy and heavy slapped me hard against the side of my face before thumping to the ground at my side. Startled, I looked down to see what the offending object was as it started flopping around the frozen soil by my hand. Only I couldn’t believe my eyes
.

  It was a fish.

  A really big fish.

  One so large I had only seen the likes come out of the fishing nets when our people sailed the smaller boats out quite a ways from the bay of our village into the sea.

  So, where had the gods damned thing come from?

  Because no fish that large should be in the stream, which was several feet away from our position, this time of the year.

  Confusion flooded me, and I looked back to the Völva for an explanation.

  The only one I would ever need landed on her shoulder with rustling wings and a loud caw.

  It was one of Odin’s ravens.

  I looked from the bird to the old woman’s face, and she crossed her arms over her chest as if she was daring me to say one wrong word.

  Truly, she needn’t worry because I did not want to say a word at all.

  Instead, I nodded my head, silently telling her I had learned my lesson, and then she nodded her head in return.

  Turning slowly, the Völva walked gingerly away with the raven still perched on her shoulder, back toward her home. When she was close to crossing the stream, she turned her head and shouted back at us, “Say goodbye, child. The boy must leave now.”

  Rustling of cloth pulled my attention immediately back to the girl, and I stared at her with wide eyes. The fish was still flopping around by my hand, and she had an impish smile on her face.

  Leaning forward, she whispered, “You must come back soon, Arne, son of Erik. I’ve waited a long time to meet you, and I have many questions.”

  She had questions?

  Well, so did I!

  Like, how on Thor’s hairy balls did she know my name?

  The girl moved to get off the cold ground, but my hand shot out to grab her small wrist, holding her at bay.

  “How do you know my name?”

  One side of her mouth slid up in a half grin. “I know many things. Such as, I know you’ve been sitting in that tree across the field watching me for many seasons now.” She pointed past my head, and I turned to see at what. Sure enough, she was pointing directly at my hiding spot.

  Looking back to her, I tipped my head to the side in curiosity and grunted. “You saw me sitting there?”

  This time it was her head that tipped, causing red curls to slip off her shoulder and fall in front of her. The movement of the silky looking strands was not enough to keep my scrutiny off her face.

  I was determined not to lose sight of the eyes that I had long sought.

  She was silent for a long moment before she pursed her lips and said in a low voice, “Not the way you think I did—but that answer is for another time.” Reaching across my body, she deftly grabbed the large fish and plunked it down in my lap, surprising me into letting go of her wrist so I could subdue the unruly fish. “Do not forget your dinner, Arne Eriksson.”

  Before I could stop her, she stood and started briskly walking away while I sat there with a fish wiggling in between my hands and my now frigid ass still on the ground.

  I knew there was no stopping her retreat this time, but I was determined to find out one more thing before she disappeared behind the old woman’s impenetrable walls.

  “Wait!” I yelled, stupidly holding the fish in the air as if it would stop her. Seeing that she was not stopping as she deftly hopped, skipped, and jumped large stones to cross the stream, I scrambled to my knees and forced my frozen legs to stand. Shouting out again as I did so. “Wait!”

  Once she had crossed the stream, the girl turned her head back and smiled at me. “Ask.”

  Just that one word told me she knew what I wanted to say before I had even said it.

  There were grown men in the village I was sure would have been unnerved. My father amongst them. However, it only encouraged me.

  “What is your name?” I bellowed.

  Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the dying light, ensnaring me ever more into her charm.

  “Liv,” she replied evenly.

  Not a shout, nor a whisper. Just a calm and simple answer, as if anything could ever be calm and simple about her.

  Without another word, she resumed her trek to the home she shared with the old woman and not once looked back at me.

  While I stood there, holding a flailing fish, unable to take my eyes off her.

  Turning on my heel, I started to make my way back across the field that would take me to the woods on my way home.

  My mind churned with many thoughts.

  Two stuck in the forefront of my mind.

  Her name was Liv, which meant ‘life’. I could only feel as if that were a sign from Odin himself that my life was about to change forever.

  The second thought was the memory of her eyes.

  The way the green with flecks of silver and blue had drawn me in the way the sea drew Vikings to sail her. Like fate itself.

  It had been worth waiting two very long years to see them.

  I only hoped it would not be another two lengthy years before I would see them again.

  Spurred on by my excitement, I walked home as quickly as my sore, abused body and aching balls would let me. The pain was worth what I had gained, but now I had to think of a way to explain this gods’ damned fish to my parents.

  Four

  “How could you believe in Odin, but not believe in Jörmungandr? That’s ridiculous. It’s like believing that fish live in the water, but they do not swim.”

  Liv rolled her eyes at me as we sat by the stream, her fingers playing in the water.

  “It is not ridiculous, Arne. And for a boy who is so smart, you are also very stupid. If fish do not swim, then what do they do all day? Float about, hoping the currents of the sea will take them toward the food they need?”

  Nodding my head, I replied sarcastically, “Oh absolutely. The fish also hope the currents of the sea do not forget to float them by some fine-looking female fish so they can whip their wee cocks out and fertilize their eggs.”

  Cold water splashed my face in retaliation. Using the bottom of my shirt, I wiped it off and glared at the person who had doused me. “Was that necessary?”

  Shrugging her slender shoulders, she resumed wiggling her fingers in the water nonchalantly. “As necessary as it was for you to use that foul language in my presence. Ever since you started training with the Jarl’s men, your language has become fouler than the smell of a cow’s breath.”

  Taken aback by the comparison, I could not help but ask, “Do you often smell the cow’s breath, Liv?”

  The features on her delicate face squished up. “No.”

  “Then how do you know how the cow’s breath smells?”

  Clearly frustrated, she slapped her hand in the water, accidentally splashing herself this time. “Arne Eriksson! You are the most annoying boy I have ever met.”

  Grinning shamelessly now, I retorted, “I am the only boy you have ever met.”

  Which is exactly the way I want to keep it.

  The thought was said silently in my head. I dared not to speak it aloud. It was not lost on me how my possessiveness of Liv was not normal. Nor did I care. The thought of someone like Ødger laying eyes on her filled me with a rage that could fuel a thousand berserkers’ rages.

  Liv was mine and mine alone.

  Another splash of water on my face broke my thoughts, and I focused back on her. This time, I wiped the droplets away with my sleeve. “What was that for?”

  “You got that look on your face again. The one where you stare off and look so mad you might murder someone.”

  She had no idea.

  I would happily murder the Jarl’s son if I thought I could get away with it.

  Especially if he ever laid eyes on Liv.

  Now was not the time to think of such things, however. My time with Liv, as it always was, was limited, and I should enjoy it with her instead of daydreaming about killing Ødger.

  Pasting a genuine smile on my face, I changed the subject. “Tell me, why you do not believe in Jörmungandr?”<
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  Her head tilted to the side in the way an inquisitive cat did. “You truly believe there is a serpent so large it could encircle a whole world? And even if such a serpent did exist, you think it could be born of the mating from the god Loki and a giantess?”

  Well, when she put it like that.

  Still… I nodded. “Jörmungandr is like you and the old woman’s magic. You cannot always see it, but it is still there.”

  The side of her lips tipped up. “Shall I have Helga give you another fish to take home for dinner so that you can see her magic again?”

  I did not hesitate to shake my head. “No, no, definitely not. One fish slap to the head is enough, thank you.” Looking back to her, I could not stop from questioning. “I still don’t understand how you can know and believe in something such as your magic and not believe in the gods and their children.”

  Liv’s face turned up to bask in the sunlight as she sighed. “I believe in gods, Arne… I just don’t believe in everything we are told. It is hard to explain to someone who does not see all of that which I see.” She turned her now solemn gaze back to me. “Trust me when I say, there are monsters in this world; they are just not giant serpents large enough to destroy a world.”

  My curiosity was piqued. Over the short amount of time we had spent together, I had learned that Liv somehow saw and knew things most people did not know. Occasionally, before the event happened. She had not explained to me how she knew—always stating she was forbidden to say. Nevertheless, she had proven to me, on more than one occasion over the past year since we had met next to the tree that I had downed, that she did indeed see the future. Going as far as to warn me, “Do not let your mother carry the next load of dried meat from the smokehouse, or she would be badly injured.”

  The warning had seemed strange at the time, but a week later when the Jarl had told my mother to go get the load of salted meat from the smokehouse, I had gone with her, just in case. As we were leaving the smokehouse, a creak and groan sounded from above us, followed by the loud crack of a snap of wood. I looked up in time to see the large beam that helped hold the roof of the building break from its position and come hurtling down toward my mother. It was by Odin’s favor alone that I managed to push her out of the way before the beam would have hit her in the head.