Thord Manuscript, Page IX
My cellphone went off in the middle of the night, dragging me from sleep. My wife kicked me in the shin and then pulled a pillow over her head as I quickly grabbed the phone to stop its musical alert. The caller was Ingrid.
“Ingrid,” I whispered, “it’s two in the morn…”
She shrieked back “The last page! The last page is gold! It’s dynamite! Written by the man himself.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“It’s also short…I’m sending you the text… give me one minute.”
It was more like three minutes before my phone chirped and I opened the Ingrid’s text and began to read…
My name is Grip Thordsson, men already call me ‘the Victorious’, for I have completed my father’s invasion of Sweden, forcing young King Fredrik to yield, and brought the Old Gods back to Uppsala. But it is truly my father Thord’s victory, not mine. He has given the Norse new life and now he feasts in Valhalla, having died with a sword in his hand at the Battle of Borganäs, the blade stained with the blood of a King.
I want to earn my own victories, but my brothers and other advisors say I will need to take on my father’s laurels and reputation to achieve this, as men are more likely to flock to a living legend rather than rally in the memory of a dead hero. But with this stolen prestige, I will be able to return the Old Gods to lands of the Norge and the Danes, and then I will show the world that the Viking Age has not yet ended.
And in time, I will see my father again. In Valhalla.
My cellphone went off in the middle of the night, dragging me from sleep. My wife kicked me in the shin and then pulled a pillow over her head as I quickly grabbed the phone to stop its musical alert. The caller was Ingrid.
“Ingrid,” I whispered, “it’s two in the morn…”
She shrieked back “The last page! The last page is gold! It’s dynamite! Written by the man himself.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“It’s also short…I’m sending you the text… give me one minute.”
It was more like three minutes before my phone chirped and I opened the Ingrid’s text and began to read…
My name is Grip Thordsson, men already call me ‘the Victorious’, for I have completed my father’s invasion of Sweden, forcing young King Fredrik to yield, and brought the Old Gods back to Uppsala. But it is truly my father Thord’s victory, not mine. He has given the Norse new life and now he feasts in Valhalla, having died with a sword in his hand at the Battle of Borganäs, the blade stained with the blood of a King.
I want to earn my own victories, but my brothers and other advisors say I will need to take on my father’s laurels and reputation to achieve this, as men are more likely to flock to a living legend rather than rally in the memory of a dead hero. But with this stolen prestige, I will be able to return the Old Gods to lands of the Norge and the Danes, and then I will show the world that the Viking Age has not yet ended.
And in time, I will see my father again. In Valhalla.
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