The Viking's Apprentice
Page 1
The Viking’s Apprentice
Book 1 in The Viking Series
By Kevin McLeod
copyright 2013 Kevin McLeod
FREE DOWNLOAD
CONTINUE THE ADVENTURE TODAY FOR FREE….
Sign up for the author’s new release mailing list and get a free copy of The Viking’s Apprentice II: The Master’s Revenge
Click here to get started. https://www.kevinmcleodauthor.com
Kevin McLeod
#1 Bestselling Author of The Award-Winning Children’s Series, The Viking’s Apprentice
The Vikings Apprentice
The Vikings Apprentice II: The Master’s Revenge
The Viking’s Apprentice III: Journey to the Other Side
The Viking’s Apprentice IV: The Sword of Vercelli
The Viking’s Apprentice and The Master’s Revenge are now also in audio book format. Please visit below to see how you can listen to these books for FREE on Audible:
www.kevinmcleodauthor.com/audible
For Rachael and Elena who inspire me every day.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my wife, Kathleen, without your support and encouragement this book would not have been possible.
Thank you to my brother, Paul, for his artistic skill and his unique brand of inspirational speeches.
Thank you to the editors who showed great patience and skill through every edit.
Thank you to every person who buys this book, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Prologue
Running now, faster and faster, following the glow of the safety sticks. Breathing getting harder, chest hurting, he keeps running, not looking back, focused on getting out. Where are the others? He can't remember leaving them behind, no time, no time, just run. He can't have seen what his eyes showed him, a trick of the light? Loss of air in the caves? Still, he runs; fear is driving him on.
Something is coming, closing in on him, he hears the footsteps, hears the terrible noise. Running faster, light now, can see the cave entrance, close now, so close. Grabbed from behind. Hands moving over him pulling him back, light disappearing, not close enough, now the noise is his, he screams, then nothing.
Chapter 1
Peter sat in his chair watching the clock tick slowly towards 3:30 pm and the end of the day. What made this day special was that it was the end of term, and the summer holidays were minutes away. Peter was in his last year of primary school and his teacher, Mrs Atkinson, was giving a good luck speech with a tear in her eye and a lump in her throat.
‘I will miss you all. Yes, even you George.’ Mrs Atkinson said, giving Peter’s best friend, George Taylor, a knowing smile.
George turned to Peter pulling a face. Peter stifled a laugh and tried to concentrate on Mrs Atkinson.
‘You’re all going to high school where you will face challenges, and have the chance to blossom into the fine young men and women I know you can be.’
The school bell sounded, and the children cheered as they raced for the door, shouting their goodbyes to Mrs Atkinson. George blew a kiss in her direction and ran out laughing.
‘Enjoy the holidays everyone, and enjoy high school,’ said Mrs Atkinson, watching as another class of children set off on the journey to becoming adults.
Peter and George ran towards the school gates where their mothers were waiting. George pulled ahead, running through the gates doing a slow motion celebration while taking the acclaim of the imaginary crowd. Peter, the school sports champion, didn’t mind letting his friend win this race.
Peter loved the summer holidays as he always spent the first two weeks at his Granddad’s house in Campbell’s Cove. What made this year even more special was that George was coming with him. They spotted their mothers standing together in the crowd and headed towards them.
‘How does it feel to have left primary school?’ asked Peter’s mum.
‘Great. It feels even better to have the whole summer off,’ Peter replied.
‘What time will I drop George off tomorrow morning?’ asked George's mum.
‘Around 7, it's a long drive, and Granddad will meet us half way,’ Mrs Collins said giving Peter a hug.
‘Ok, see you at 7 then, enjoy your night.’
Mrs Taylor and George headed towards their car. George gave Peter a military salute and laughed, shouting ‘See you in the morning, Peter!'
Peter and his mum got into the car for the drive home.
‘Has Granddad called?’ Peter asked.
‘Yes, don’t worry he called earlier and everything’s fine. He’s looking forward to seeing you and George.’
‘Great I can’t wait to get there and go exploring, and show George the house and the caves,’ Peter said excitedly.
‘Please try not to run your Granddad off his feet, and keep Jake under control.’
‘Yes, mum. I promise everything will be okay.'
They arrived home, and as soon as they were through the front door Jake came bounding down the stairs and leapt at Peter. Jake, Peter's overly excited Jack Russell, was on his usual mission to lick someone's face before he would calm down. Peter bent down, and Jake took his chance to accomplish his mission; jumping on to Peter's knees licking wildly at his face.
‘Get off me you mad dog!’ exclaimed Peter laughing, while wrestling with Jake.
Happy that the face licking had gone well, Jake bounded after Peter’s mum who was heading for the kitchen.
‘Calm down Jake. There’s a good boy.’
‘Peter, go up and sort out your suitcase. I left your clothes out so pick what you want and put the rest away.’
‘Ok mum will do.'
Mrs Collins watched her son going up the stairs and couldn’t help but think how much he resembled his father. Tall, with chocolate brown hair and light blue eyes, his face had summer freckles already. He was showing promise in athletics, and his room was beginning to fill up with medals. His intelligence was shining through in his school work. She was a very proud mother.
Peter went into his room and looked at the clothes his mum had laid out. Mums really didn't know about fashion for boys his age Peter decided. He picked through the piles looking for his newest coolest clothes discarding the rest in a heap on the floor. That was where they usually lived after all. With his case packed in record time, Peter took out his Nintendo DS and started to play MarioKarts, his favourite game. He heard Jake coming up the stairs and watched as he nosed open the door and jumped on the bed. Jake looked at Peter, wagging his tail, before spotting the clothes on the floor. With one leap he was off the bed and burying himself underneath. A perfect Jack Russell size bed. Peter watched and laughed before going back to his game.
Just over an hour later Peter heard the sound of his dad's car wheels crunch over the gravel driveway. The pile of clothes in his room began to move, and Jake's head popped out from under a jumper.
‘Who is it, boy?' Peter asked, trying to wind up Jake, which was not difficult.
The front door opened, and Jake sprang into action, another chance to lick a face was near. Peter heard Jake crash down the stairs towards his dad and heard his dad greet the dog happily. Peter walked down and found his dad holding Jake, stroking the back of his head while avoiding a face licking.
‘There’s my big high school boy!’ Mr Collins said.
‘So how does it feel to be free of the little school?’
‘It feels great dad, but I still have the whole summer to look forward to.’
‘Ahhh of course. Now didn’t Granddad phone to cancel this year?’ Mr Collins said, looking at Peter’s mum.
‘Too late dad, mum already told me everything’s fine.�
� Peter said
‘Guilty as charged. I couldn’t joke with him this year, not with George going too,’ Mrs Collins said, looking at her husband as he continued his fight with Jake.
Peter's dad phoned for a takeaway as was traditional on the last day of school. When it arrived, they all sat down at the table to a lovely Chinese meal. They talked about summer holidays, and about Campbell's Cove. Mrs Collins told stories of the famous caves, and of the sea monsters and dragons that it was said inhabited the area a thousand years before. All of this served to feed Peter's excitement about his holiday. The only one of the family not interested in the stories was Jake. He spent the meal time under the table on constant look out for dropped food.
After dinner, Peter went out into the garden to play fetch with Jake, who would fetch anything you threw. From tennis balls to sticks and even old shoes it didn't matter to Jake if you threw it he would go get it. The bleep of Peter's mobile phone went off in his pocket, and he looked to see a message from George.
‘Cnt w8 4 the Cove! C U 2morro.’
Peter replied to the text and headed back into the house. It was too dark to continue playing fetch, and he wanted to get to sleep as fast as he could so that morning would arrive and his holiday could start.
Peter lay in bed later that night trying to sleep. He tossed and turned, adjusted his pillows, but he was just too excited to drop off. None of this was pleasing Jake who was curled up at Peter's feet and had found it much easier to sleep. Eventually though when Peter did drift off his dreams were full of Campbell's Cove and his Granddad's magnificent old house.
Far away from the bed where Peter slept, just outside Campbell's Cove, a shadow moved across a farmyard. Quickly and quietly, unseen and unheard, it moved toward the hen house. Nothing stirred; nothing seemed aware of the presence as it closed in on its target. If you had witnessed this strange going on you would have sworn that you'd seen something appear at the hen house, then vanish through a wall. People would say you were mad, but those people would be wrong. Hens began to squawk scared by the thing that crept among them. No harm came to them. It needs the hens. It needs what they produce. It has come for eggs. By the time the farmer had reached the hen house to investigate the noise the visitor had left. It had no interest in the farmer or his family. Not yet.