Page 24 of Alien Viking's Passion

“You talked about a place to build shelter,” Aretha reminded him. “Maybe this is the time? I don’t suppose we’ll get back to the jarlagard today.”

“It is too dark to travel in troll country. And we appear to be stuck here. But we’ll make the most of it. You stand here,” he said, grabbing her by the shoulders and gently pushing heragainst a tree trunk. “That will keep you dry.”

A big drop hit her from the treetop. “Mostly dry, anyway.”

He looked down at her, hands still on her shoulders. “Are you still afraid?”

She couldn’t help noticing the twitch in the front of his pants. “Should I be?”

“No.” Again he let his knuckles run along her cheek, and this time she couldn’t help pushing into them. Even here, in an unknown place with trolls maybe looking for her, she felt perfectly safe.

He gave her a little smile and got his giant sword out.

“Forged by fire, wielded by frost,”he chanted,

“When Kraghogg awakes, the enemy has lost!”

Colorful little sparks ran along the sword’s edge.

Aretha didn’t know why, but the bassy words made the hairs stand up at the base of her neck. She didn’t believe in magic, but this had to be pretty close to it. That crazy pulsar in the sky had some weird effects.

“That’s its name?” she asked. “Krakhogg?”

He swished the sword through the air, careful to keep it away from Aretha. “We were mightily troubled by krakens and draugr in Ragnhildros in the old days. This very blade, used by an earlier ruler prince, cut down the worst of the krakens. Since then, we’ve been mostly safe from them. Now I speak its words every time I draw it. Even if I’m about to do terrible things to it, like I am now. Forgive your prince, Krakhogg! Sometimes these things are necessary.”

He stepped to the side, swung the blade, and cut through an arm-thick tree with one chop.

Aretha stayed where she was while he cut down several trees of the same size.

It was quite a spectacle. Craxon’s massive muscles would flex and contract with each cut, making his white tattoos shine in the darkness. His horns looked like sparkling silver as the occasional spark ran up them.

‘Wielded by frost’, he had said. That frost had to be himself. The tattoo-like marks that were burned into him did make it look as if he had frost growing on him in an intricate pattern.

He was like a prince from out of a fairy tale, unreal and still impressive.

It would have to be a scene from anaughtyfairy tale, Aretha thought. She was definitely feeling some heat surge, and Craxon had definitely had some twitching in his pants.

Maybe this amnesia thing of his could have a positive side, if it gave them a new start. Maybe he wouldn’t avoid her like a leper this time.

It stopped raining, but the fog stayed. Craxon finished cutting down small trees, then cut off their branches on one side and arranged them in a conical shape. It looked like the structure of a teepee, held together at the top by soft vines. He added more horizontal vines all the way down.

“The bones of our shelter are ready,” he said with satisfaction.

9

- Aretha -

“The bones?” Aretha laughed. “You warriors have a poetic way to look at everything.”

“We enjoy a goodkvadand a longdrapa,” Craxon rumbled. “We find there is beauty in both battle and building. Now I suppose we should give our shelter a skin as well as bones. Do you know how?”

Aretha walked over and grabbed one of the poles, shaking it. “If I had an instructional video or some kind of manual, I would. I guess we need some leaves?”

“Your guess is similar to mine,” Craxon said as he took a big branch and placed it high up on the structure, held by the vines. “But it might take time. Since you enjoy poetry, let us compose kvad while we gather leaves of many trees. You may begin.””

Aretha picked up a twig and hung it on one of the lower vines. “Hmm. I don’t think I’m good enough at speaking Garda to make poetry.”

“Ah!” Craxon said and straightened. “A good start for a kvad.

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