Page 57 of Alien Viking's Passion

Charging at the draugr, he swung the blade as hard as he could, but Kofraks met him with a swift parry with his old sword. The shock traveled up the sword and into the prince's arm.

“Now look at this, princeling!” the draugr said.

A small wooden box came through the air and with a hard crash landed on the deck between them. It shattered, turning it to splinters that flew everywhere.

“Not a well made chest,” Craxon commented. “Is that what you wanted to show me? Your poor workmanship?”

Kofraks pushed one skeleton foot into the heap of broken wood, as if searching for something. “Whereisshe?!”

Craxon attacked again, but even while distracted, Kofraks handled his sword quickly and accurately. Krakhogg was deflected and hit the upper strakes of the ship, lodging itself in the fresh wood. The prince yanked it back out and struck again. This time he hit one of the tentacles that was sprouting from the draugr's chest, underneath the mass of seaweed and debris. The tentacle wasn't severed, but it started spraying inky blood.

Kofraks finally turned his attention to Craxon again, yellow eyes glowing with fury. “She has escaped! But you shall not, princeling! Doomed souls, attack! Krakens, attack!”

The ghost ships descended on them, skrymtir crews waving their weapons. Many slimy tentacles wormed their way into theEira Einherja,

Sharp steel clashed with rusty iron, and war cries resonated over the stormy ocean as Craxon's crew started defending themselves.

Kofraks himself had eyes only for the prince. “Watch as my servants defeat your men and women, turning them into more slaves for me!”

Craxon whirled around to help his crew.

Then he saw a small figure crawling along the bottom of the ship, right under the main deck. There was a hornless head and a glint of steel in a small hand.

He frowned, his mind not able to comprehend what he was seeing. It had to be—

“My prince!” came an urgent call from nearby. Sigrid the Soothsayer had left the steer board and was hurrying towards him through the chaos of the battle.

“Where is your sword, Wise Mother?” he asked, concerned as he cut the head off a skrymtir that had come too close.

“I never had one,” she said. “My prince, the curse can only be broken by Kofraks finding love again.”

“Findinglove?” Craxon asked, incredulous. “Here?Now?”

“It need not be real love,” the soothsayer said, her blind eyes looking straight at him. “Only a loving act.”

“Nobody will ever love Kofraks!” Craxon told her with all the patience he could muster, astonished that the old woman would claim his attention with such nonsense during a battle. “Get to safety, woman!”

She grabbed his upper arm. “I know it sounds strange, my prince! But we're no longer in your realm of fighting and doing battle with living men. This is the realm of the Other, and of Kofraks, and so it is alsomyrealm as a seeress. I am not asking you to do anything, my prince. I say this simply so that you will understand what comes later.”

Craxon could swear there was a smile on the crone's face. “Very well, Signe. Now find a safe spot until we have driven the skrymtir off the ship!”

The soothsayer ducked out of sight, and Craxon hacked at a kraken's tentacle. His crew were hard pressed, he saw. The skrymtir were coming aboard the ship and the krakens were sending their tentacles into the battle with greater accuracy.

Kofraks stood there as a nightmarish apparition, his long sword in one hand, laughing coldly. Then he suddenly struck at Craxon, who barely had the chance to raise Krakhogg in defense.

“Don't worry,” the draugr said. “I won't kill you until you see what you have brought upon your people. But do you really need all your arms for that?” He slashed again, and once more Craxon was almost too late. The rusty blade swooshed past him, and he had to retreat.

The battle behind him was getting critical. His crew were yelling sharp warnings and commands to each other with a frantic urgency. But Craxon couldn't look away. The draugr was drawing his sword back again, and he had to parry.

He threw a quick look behind him. He was separated from his crew by several skrymtir; the krakens had slung tentacles around two of them and were making it harder for them to fight. A third was about to be dragged off the ship.

For the first time in his life, Craxon had to face a hard fact: he was losing.

As the realization hit him, a tentacle wound itself around him and tightened, pinning his left hand to his side.

“It will soon be over,” Kofraks said with a mockery of a soothing tone. “They will be my slaves, and so will you. And Ragnhildros will no longer exist.” He slashed his ugly sword, and this time Craxon couldn't move to get away. The blade swished past his side, cutting a gash.

Kofraks raised his blade again. “I think I will take a leg, now that you are staying in place so prettily. Perhaps that is what you want?”

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