“What does it mean?” Dane asked.
Lut held his searching look for a moment, then tossed a small sealskin sack into Dane’s lap. “You tell me,” said Lut.
Dane loosened the leather drawstring from the top of the sack, and out fell a new set of runes, each one smooth and shiny and made of whalebone. Having lost the old set in the storm while aboard the ship, Lut explained, he had just finished carving these that very afternoon. Dane said he knew that to cast the runes was the only way to read the true meaning of his dream and, thus, the future as writ by the fates. But why should he have this honor? Wasn’t that Lut’s job? It didn’t feel right.
Lut said that now it was his turn to take on this new responsibility. By his actions, he had earned the villagers’ trust, and as their chieftain it was his honor and duty to perform this task. Still, Dane hesitated.
“Knowledge is scary, son,” said Lut. “But it’s the burden we carry for our people.” Dane nodded. He was frightened, but knew what he must do. Kneeling, he closed his eyes and drew a breath to clear his mind, as he had seen Lut do so many times. And then, in one purposeful motion, he tossed the runes in the air. They landed on the earthen floor. He felt a tingle on the hairs of his neck. Afraid of what he might see, he opened his eyes and stared down at the runes gleaming in the candlelight. Carefully, one by one, he read them, and as he did so he felt a chill crawl up his spine and into his belly. There they were. The very things in his dream mirrored there in the runes themselves. His worst fears confirmed. His dream would indeed come true, and soon. A heinous fight for survival that might prove even more harrowing than the last. A wave of fatigue overtook him. His eyes met Lut’s.
“Boys play,” the old one said, “but men must worry.”
Leaving the hut moments later, Dane looked into the night sky and saw the misted-over moon. It was round and pink and looked mysteriously like the bloodshot Eye of Odin himself. Though Dane knew a new darkness was coming, the what, when, and where of it were things only Odin himself could see. It wasn’t fair. Why were men kept blind to the very things they most needed to see? As he walked through the quiet village toward home, feeling weighted by the heavy cloak of new responsibilities, there was yet a lightness to his step, for he realized that now he truly walked in the footsteps of his father.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With deep gratitude, the authors would like to acknowledge the many friends and colleagues—and actual Norsefolk—who helped make this book possible. First, kudos are showered upon the fabulously talented team of Laura Geringer, Lindsey Alexander, Jill Santopolo, and Carla Weise (aka Laura the Seer of the Tale, Lindsey the Slayer of Sloppy Syntax, Jill the Incredibly Patient, and Carla the Artful), whose creative efforts and devotion to detail can only be described as “strangely inhuman.” Many thanks, as well, to uber-agent Jodi Reamer, for the great judgment she showed in agreeing to represent us, for her wise counsel, and for her insistence on always picking up the check at Katz’s. A tip o’ the war helmet to our Norwegian friends Veslemoey and Harald Zwart for their tireless help in answering questions about all things Old Norse (and the Fårikål). Furthermore, Jim would like to thank his dear friends Jamie, Chris, and Tom for their treasured friendship and support, and his mother, Thelma, for having been there with books from the beginning. He also throws a hug and a kiss to his wife, Allison, and son, Jake, who, for years, have shown great patience and fortitude in sharing his home with so many Vikings.
About the Authors
JAMES JENNEWEIN has written extensively for film and television and lives quietly with his family in a leafy suburb of Los Angeles. He is not now nor has he ever been a bloodthirsty Viking.
TOM S. PARKER, who has Viking ancestors on his Swedish mother’s side, enjoys pillaging now and then with his pet Chihuahua, Tony. He lives in a moated fortress in Topanga, California.
www.runewarriors.net
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Credits
Jacket art © 2008 by Oliver Burston
Jacket title lettering © 2008 by Jill Bell
Jacket design by Carla Weise
Copyright
RUNEWARRIORS. Text copyright © 2009 by James Jennewein and Tom S. Parker. Illustrations copyright © 2008 by Oliver Burston. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Adobe Digital Edition May 2009 ISBN 978-0-06-195741-3
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