The Beast of the North Read online

  THE BEAST OF THE NORTH

  THIEF OF MIDGARD

  BOOK 1

  ALARIC LONGWARD

  The text and the story copyright © 2015 Alaric Longward

  (www.alariclongward.com)

  All Rights Reserved

  _______________________________________________________

  Cover art by Eve Ventrue

  (http://www.eve-ventrue.com/#/)

  _______________________________________________________

  Design by The Cover Collection

  (http://www.thecovercollection.com)

  _______________________________________________________

  ISBN: 978-952-7101-16-2 (mobi)

  ISBN: 978-952-7101-17-9 (paperback)

  _______________________________________________________

  All the characters in this book are purely fictional and any similarities between them and real persons are purely coincidental.

  Dedicated to Odin for the gift of learning.

  To Lumia, my beautiful, super talented daughter.

  And to my wife, a true Aesir goddess, the goddess of patience.

  A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

  Greetings, and thank you for getting this book. I hope you enjoy it. The second book for this series will be The Queen of the Draugr, and should arrive early 2016.

  Please note, that The Dark Levy and upcoming (fall 2015) Eye of Hel, books one and two of Ten Tears Chronicles are related to the Beast of the North.

  I humbly ask you rate and review the story in Amazon.com and/or on Goodreads. This will be incredibly valuable for me going forward and I want you to know I greatly appreciate your opinion and time.

  Please visit

  www.alariclongward.com

  and sign up for my mailing list for a monthly dose of information on the upcoming stories and info on our competitions and winners.

  OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR:

  THE HRABAN CHRONICLES – NOVELS OF ROME AND GERMANIA

  THE OATH BREAKER – BOOK 1

  RAVEN’S WYRD – BOOK 2

  THE WINTER SWORD – BOOK 3

  BANE OF GODS – BOOK 4 (COMING 2016)

  MAROBOODUS – NOVELS OF ROME AND GERMANIA

  QUEEN OF ICE – BOOK 1 (COMING WINTER 2015)

  THE CANTINIÉRE TALES – STORIES OF FRENCH REVOLUTION AND NAPOLEONIC WARS

  JEANETTE’S SWORD – BOOK 1

  JEANETTE’S LOVE – BOOK 2

  JEANETTE’S CHOICE – BOOK 3 (COMING LATE 2015)

  TEN TEARS CHRONICLES – STORIES OF THE NINE WORLDS

  THE DARK LEVY – BOOK 1

  EYE OF HEL – BOOK 2 (COMING FALL 2015)

  THIEF OF MIDGARD – STORIES OF THE NINE WORLDS

  THE BEAST OF THE NORTH – BOOK 1

  QUEEN OF THE DRAUGR – BOOK 2 (COMING EARLY 2016)

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  THE BEAST OF THE NORTH

  A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

  OTHER BOOKS BY THE AUTHOR:

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  MAP OF NORTHERN MIDGARD

  NAMES AND PLACES

  PROLOGUE

  BOOK 1: THE GRIM JESTERS

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  BOOK 2: MORAG’S FOES

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  BOOK 3: THE BLACKTOWERS

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  BOOK 4: QUEEN’S BANE

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  BOOK 5: THE TIDE

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  BOOK 6 : HEL’S HORDE

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  EPILOGUE

  AFTERWORD

  MAP OF NORTHERN MIDGARD

  NAMES AND PLACES

  Ann – Sand’s unhappy sister.

  Arrow Straits – the body of water between Callidorean Ocean and the Bay of Whales.

  Aten – grand harbor of the Verdant Lands.

  Baduhanna – Aesir, a demi goddess, general of the humans.

  Balan Blacktower – head of the Tenth House, a historian, and father of Shaduril and Lith. A conspirator and Maskan’s host.

  Balic Barm Bellic – the High King, lord of the Verdant Lands.

  Beast of the North – the title of the ruler of the Red Midgard.

  Brinna – a knight of the Danegell’s.

  Callidorean Ocean – the grand sea of the west.

  Crec Helstrom – Lord Commander of Red Midgard and Dagnar, head of the Second House.

  Dagger Hill – the ancient name of Dagnar’s prominent hill.

  Dagnar – the capital of Red Midgard.

  Dark Grip – ancient giant artifact.

  Dverger – dwarves

  Draugr – wily, intelligent undead, masters of disguise.

  Falg Hardhand – servant to the queen, slave from the south.

  Falgrin – allies of Red Midgard, one of the Fringe Kingdoms of the north.

  Gal Talien – Lord of the Harbor, Lord of Trade, head of the Seventh House.

  Gray – butler of the Blacktower’s.

  Hawk’s Talon – one of the four brigades of Red Midgard.

  Hel – goddess of the dead, mistress of rot, and the one whose war sundered the Nine Worlds from each other. She is forever seeking her eye.

  High Hold – land of the Blacktowers.

  Jotun – giants of Jotunheim, populating many worlds, including Muspelheim, Nifleheim, and Jotunheim. Often foes to the gods, to the Aesir and the Vanir, but sometimes not.

  Kallir – Bear’s henchman.

  Larkgrin – Morag Danegell’s stolen staff.

  Lithiana “Lith” Blacktower – daughter of Balan Blacktower, a conspirator and Maskan’s temptress.

  Hammer Legion – High King’s experienced, brutal armies.

  Maskan – a thief and a ruffian with a surprising past and even more surprising future.

  Magor Danegell – King of Red Midgard.

  Malingborg – capital of the Verdant Lands, home of the High King.

  Mellina Danegell – Queen of Red Midgard.

  Mir – Maskan’s mother and more.

  Molun – Bear’s henchman.

  Rose Throne – throne of the Danegells.

  Sand – son or the Bear, Maskan’s partner in crime.

  Shaduril Blacktower – daughter of Balan Blacktower, a conspirator and Maskan’s love.

  Shakes – master of the “Lamb,” a tavern of Bad Man’s Haunt.

  Sorrowspinner – a magical artifact, a ring of dark metal and a blue stone.

  Taram Blacktower – arms master of the Blacktowers. For to Maskan.

  The Bear – also called the “Uncouth Lord.” A highwayman and Sand’s father.

  The Crimson Apex – home of the Blacktowers.

  The Harlot – executioner of Dagnar.

  The One Man Cult – a cult of the High King, denying the existence of the gods.

  Thrun – a dverg lord.

  Tower of the Temple – Danegell’s mighty fort on top of Dagnar.

  Valkai the Heavy – brute leader of the Grim Jesters criminal outfit.

  Verdant Lands – the holdings of the High King, rich and powerful lands.

  Ygrin – allies of Red Midgard, one of the Fringe Kingdoms of the north.

  Ymritoe – nation of the giants.

  PROLOGUE

  A war was waged in the elven world of Aldheim, the Jewel of the Nine Worl
ds.

  A slip of a girl, Shannon, fought a magical duel in the midst of a terrible battle. She fought her former mistress, and she was losing. It was no wonder she was being overmatched, for she was a human, and her former mistress was of the First Born; not a god, but a monster of the ancient world. In her desperation, she did what she had vowed not to do. She released a complicated, dark spell of a forlorn, mad goddess, Hel, the goddess whose war had sundered the gods from their prized Nine Worlds thousands of years before. The spell cast by the girl was Hel’s last attempt at gaining control of the worlds of the Aesir and the Vanir. It was a perilous spell of unknown results, but it was the girl’s only hope, and so she cast the spell and the worlds suffered.

  And Hel smiled on her bed of rot.

  The spell changed the ancient world of Aldheim profoundly, but it was a spell that would alter the fate of all of the Nine Worlds; for Hel had a long memory, and she was always seeking vengeance and her lost eye, hating the gods for their freedoms and her sorrow and many losses. While the spell and its consequences were immediately evident to the denizens of Aldheim, the spell wrought changes both unseen and physical to the unwary, seemingly safe lands far from Aldheim.

  In one of these worlds, in Midgard, the home of men, that day had been unusually bright and warm across the realms. The gods had been gone for thousands of years, men ruled, and there was war, and there was peace in Midgard. Death and birth marked that day and night as any other day. The night that followed was a beautiful one with a sky full of stars. They glittered like a thousand diamonds hanging across the velvety curtains of space. The Three Sisters—the pale moons of Midgard—trekked the sky lazily. Millions of people slept soundly; lovers lay curled up in each other’s arms, babies were more or less content in their sleep. People were leaving taverns, drunk and happy, and life was unremarkably predictable.

  A thick, ominous darkness shot across the sky from the west.

  The night guards of the Midgard’s many realms screamed warnings; bells tolled as a peculiar, strange storm front seemed to materialize from the thick, dark air. Midgard’s humans were used to seeing all kinds of weather, but the dark, devastating storm rushing from the grand Callidorean Ocean was vast and terrifying, driving waves and storm winds before it. Ships sunk with all hands, towns were swallowed by waves, walls crumbled, and fires broke out as people fled to the higher grounds. Hel’s spell danced across Midgard. Stone cracked. Flesh burned. Thousands died. Whole kingdoms were gone, and others changed forever.

  Then, the storm abated. The strange darkness vanished as if it had never been, and it was called the Cataclysm ever after.

  Something had changed, in Aldheim, in all the Nine Worlds and even in Midgard. Twenty years later, some of it would be clear.

  Listen.

  BOOK 1: THE GRIM JESTERS

  ‘There are no noble houses here in the shadows. But that does not mean there are no lords in the dark.’

  Shaduril to Valkai.

  CHAPTER 1

  Alrik, the rogue, was choking to death.

  His back was arched in hopeless panic and excruciating pain, and his face was a reddish mask of horror. His mouth was hanging open, and he was growling like a feral wolf. His tongue was flapping on his chin as he was wheezing for breath. Then he wet himself. That indignity was not lost to most of the crowd as his legs began kicking around in the air, seeking something tangible to save his life. There was nothing. He was being executed. He was dying very slowly and with no mercy.

  ‘Bastard,’ Sand breathed. ‘She is a rotten piece of gristle, isn’t she?’ He nodded at the woman in charge of the execution.

  I nodded in full agreement. The fat executioner was called the Harlot, and she was a brutal, fat woman who got rich off her former husband’s profession; one she had perfected. Now she was squinting up at the victim, her face critical as if she was sorely disappointed by the gruesome death and the ineptitude of the principal actor hanging from the thick rope.

  ‘She should pull on his legs,’ I said softly and supported my rough faced friend, Sand, who had been shoved hard in the thick crowd. It was an apt name for the wide boy of seventeen. He was much like the hung man was, I thought, blond, rough, and tough. Many young men in the north looked like Sand, for the north bred men of dour, harsh disposition, and perhaps it was the long winter that made it so. The people of the north were strong of limb, tough as bark, and many if not all had some marks of the northern suffering chiseled on their faces. The cold months were harsh, very harsh, and many died of hunger, illness, and pirates and thieves, no matter their wealth. I gazed around at the crowd. The large group of rogues and the poor, stinking, and starving people were the usual specimens of the northern dregs. Family. They were that. Of sorts, I thought. Most were thieves, swindlers, smugglers, and just petty criminals. Everyone would be a savage fighter if the need arose, and it did, occasionally. All were sullenly watching the execution. The worst people of the land were helpless and angry as one of theirs passed away slowly. They were used to such sights. The Butcher, Lord Captain Crec Helstrom commanded many such executions, and rumors said few lowborn even met an Elder Judge. Some of the onlookers would hang for crimes they had not yet committed, as many were poor and desperate. And as it should be, the guilty and the unlucky would pay if they got caught. Alrik had.

  But he was dying too slowly. Unnecessarily slowly. And he had not seen a judge either. That’s what everyone said.

  Finally, the suffering of the man, the terrible indignity of the piss-sodden, choking death made some people mutter out loud. One such person was louder than the rest, and she broke the unnatural silence. ‘Odin curses the filthy fat bitch,’ a woman yelled from the back of the crowd. At that, an official looking man sitting on a slender horse grunted at the Brother Knights. Two huge, armored men obeyed and turned their heads towards the sound, and so did their gigantic dark horses. They guided their beasts forward and hefted their weapons. That silenced the crowd. They were Brothers, of King Morag Danegell’s house and his bodyguards. There were perhaps ten of them all together though only the two attended the execution. All were darkly armored in magnificent, rare plate and chain, and even their horses wore chain mail to match their master’s somber, deadly looks. All wore individually crafted helmets, and none had names. These two were White and Black Brothers, and horsehair of appropriate color was hanging from their helmets. Both were deadly bastards with wide shields hanging on the flanks of their horses. The official looking man guided his horse away from them while glowering at the crowd under his open faced helmet, pulling at dark hair that wind blew over his mouth.

  ‘Who called for a god?’ the White Brother yelled, his voice muffled by the dark steel helmet, white horsehair twirling aggressively as he turned his head from side to side. In his hand coiled a whip with sharpened bits of steel.

  ‘There are no gods, you curs,’ the Black Brother echoed his comrade surprisingly gently. Despite the calm, cold voice, there was clear danger lurking behind the menacing mask. His spear was tall and wide bladed with a glittering tip, and that weapon drew looks. ‘There are only kings, as has been decreed by the High King of the southern land and his subject, our King Morag Danegell as well,’ he added. That prompted a small ripple of complaints from the crowd.

  Gods and kings, I thought. All trouble.

  Sand agreed. He leaned on me. ‘We are not supposed to talk about gods, and we should all press our foreheads to the mud for kings, but they can’t explain the temples, eh?’

  ‘No,’ I agreed. There were temples, gates if you like, dormant now, scattered across the lands. We had myths, legends, of war between goddess Hel and Odin, our supposed creator. The elders whispered of the battles that shattered us from the other eight worlds well over two thousand years past, but the king Danegell had lately passed laws to ban worship of the gods as requested by the High King. ‘They cannot force the starving and the wretched to forget the gods, Sand. Nope.’

  Sand spat into the dust, braving the attent
ions of the hulking Brothers. ‘I say the gods gave the kings their crowns and let them govern for them. And that temple by the Tower,’ Sand nodded up the tall hill of Five Rings, the Dagger Hill, ‘is a gate to another world. It is. The High King Balic of Malignborg and our fawning bastard Danegell and the One Eyed priests of the High King can hump themselves.’

  ‘The High King,’ I agreed, trying to calm my friend down as the knights were apparently looking for troublemakers, ‘of course wants to set himself on top of the gods. Who wouldn’t? Who is there to punish him? There are no gods in Midgard to rip his head off.’ It was true. The High King ruled the most beautiful and fertile continent of the Middle Midgard, the Verdant Lands, the great heart of the world by the might of his armies, but also by his newly declared legacy. He claimed he was the god. ‘There are temples erected in the south, I hear, to him,’ I added. It was a rumor only, but possibly true. What was certain is that our king was attempting to force the religion of the High King to us all.

  Sand shook his head as the hanging man was twitching like a bass on a hook. ‘Ann said it was not always so. Twenty years? That’s how long this mad cult of One Man has spread around from the south. Like a disease in a filthy whorehouse, it spreads quickly. Soon the One Eyed priests will begin to appear here in the north as well. Perhaps they are here already? Hidden. Listening. Ann thinks so; Father believes her.’

  Ann was Sand’s sister. She would know such details, as she was clearly the smartest of all of us. It was evident as a knob on a forehead. Around us, many people were cursing the Brother Knights for their words and the kings for their mad greed. I sighed. While the kings were trying to oust the memories of the gods, I had a hunch our king was in a very disadvantaged situation. ‘We have the Fringe Kingdoms here in the North, Sand,’ I said. ‘Fringe. That says it all. Poor if severe. I think our king bows to the High King and embraces his laws, but he does it to survive. So do the many other smaller lands all across the continents. I’m sure it is lip service to his madness, and King Magor Danegell won’t let the High King hump our ass. Our king is not looking for trouble with the High King, so he makes concessions, but we can still believe. Silently.’