Read Online Arthur and the Fenris Wolf by Alan Early - Free Book Online
Authors: Alan Early
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streets of Dublin.
Standing in the middle of Smithfield, he suddenly felt anxious. He was in a strange land in a strange time. But he knew he had an important task. He had to get to Arthur before Loki did. He could hear the pendant singing out to him from far away. Too far to travel by foot.
It was early morning by now â the sun would rise in a couple of hours â and the city was mostly quiet. Eirik didnât know which way to go when, all of a sudden, a loud voice broke the silence. The sound was coming from around a corner, past a tall apartment building. Cautiously he approached the noise. He had a longsword strapped to his back and partially hidden under his coat, but he didnât want to use it unless absolutely necessary.
As well as being home to the Viking Experience, Smithfield had hosted a monthly horse fair for generations. Breeders travelled from all over the country to trade and sell their horses. It was a hugely competitive and important fair but space in the square was limited, forcing traders to arrive early. First come, first sold.
Eirik peeped around the corner to find that a handful of horse trucks had already arrived and breeders were busy getting their beasts into the temporary stalls set up for the occasion. One such trader was huffing and grunting as he tugged at a stallionâs reins. He cursed at the horse and Eirik instantly recognised his as the voice heâd heard.
âMove it!â urged the breeder. âMove it, ya bleedinâ eejit!â The stallion held firm, whinnying loudly. Eirik didnât know much about horses. Although he adored riding them â the feel of the strong beast galloping over the land, the wind whistling in his ears â he had never had many chances to do so. Back home, only Bjorn and the other leaders had owned their own horses. But watching the stubborn and cranky stallion, there was no doubt in Eirikâs mind that this horse wasnât happy to be here so early on a winterâs morning.
âCome on, will ya!â puffed the breeder, his face turning beetroot. Just then, he slipped on an icy patch of cobblestone. His backside plopped into a fresh and steaming pile of horse manure. âEuugghh!â he exclaimed, getting to his feet and surveying the damage to his pants. He quickly wrapped the reins around a stall gate and stormed off in the direction of the open truck, leaving the horse where it was.
Cautiously, Eirik stepped towards the stallion. A pair of bright, black eyes watched him approach with curiosity. The Viking raised a hand to the horseâs face and rubbed it under the jaw. He could feel the tension oozing out of the animal as the breeder grunted in agitation in the truck.
Eirik spotted his chance. Without a momentâs hesitation, he hastily uncoiled the reins from the gate and pulled himself up onto the stallionâs back. The horse even lowered itself a fraction to make it easier for the Viking.
âHey!â shouted the breeder from the truck, who was now clutching a metal rod with a pair of crackling prods on one end. âGet off there!â But Eirik wheeled the horseâs head around and dug his heels into its flanks. The horse sprang forward, too quickly for the breeder to stop it, and Eirik was gone, following the song of the pendant.
Heâd ridden through the dawn, quickly leaving the quiet streets of the city and cutting across country, taking little notice when the sun rose over the landscape. Despite the importance of the mission it felt good to be free from the confines of the village. Now, standing on a hilltop near a major road, he knew he was getting close. He climbed back onto the stallion and cantered off once more.
Arthur and Ash made their way slowly through the forest. The land sloped downwards, away from Cousin Maggieâs house and towards the lake. The trees were lofty and mostly bare, although a few evergreens sprouted up here and there. The ground beneath was
Standing in the middle of Smithfield, he suddenly felt anxious. He was in a strange land in a strange time. But he knew he had an important task. He had to get to Arthur before Loki did. He could hear the pendant singing out to him from far away. Too far to travel by foot.
It was early morning by now â the sun would rise in a couple of hours â and the city was mostly quiet. Eirik didnât know which way to go when, all of a sudden, a loud voice broke the silence. The sound was coming from around a corner, past a tall apartment building. Cautiously he approached the noise. He had a longsword strapped to his back and partially hidden under his coat, but he didnât want to use it unless absolutely necessary.
As well as being home to the Viking Experience, Smithfield had hosted a monthly horse fair for generations. Breeders travelled from all over the country to trade and sell their horses. It was a hugely competitive and important fair but space in the square was limited, forcing traders to arrive early. First come, first sold.
Eirik peeped around the corner to find that a handful of horse trucks had already arrived and breeders were busy getting their beasts into the temporary stalls set up for the occasion. One such trader was huffing and grunting as he tugged at a stallionâs reins. He cursed at the horse and Eirik instantly recognised his as the voice heâd heard.
âMove it!â urged the breeder. âMove it, ya bleedinâ eejit!â The stallion held firm, whinnying loudly. Eirik didnât know much about horses. Although he adored riding them â the feel of the strong beast galloping over the land, the wind whistling in his ears â he had never had many chances to do so. Back home, only Bjorn and the other leaders had owned their own horses. But watching the stubborn and cranky stallion, there was no doubt in Eirikâs mind that this horse wasnât happy to be here so early on a winterâs morning.
âCome on, will ya!â puffed the breeder, his face turning beetroot. Just then, he slipped on an icy patch of cobblestone. His backside plopped into a fresh and steaming pile of horse manure. âEuugghh!â he exclaimed, getting to his feet and surveying the damage to his pants. He quickly wrapped the reins around a stall gate and stormed off in the direction of the open truck, leaving the horse where it was.
Cautiously, Eirik stepped towards the stallion. A pair of bright, black eyes watched him approach with curiosity. The Viking raised a hand to the horseâs face and rubbed it under the jaw. He could feel the tension oozing out of the animal as the breeder grunted in agitation in the truck.
Eirik spotted his chance. Without a momentâs hesitation, he hastily uncoiled the reins from the gate and pulled himself up onto the stallionâs back. The horse even lowered itself a fraction to make it easier for the Viking.
âHey!â shouted the breeder from the truck, who was now clutching a metal rod with a pair of crackling prods on one end. âGet off there!â But Eirik wheeled the horseâs head around and dug his heels into its flanks. The horse sprang forward, too quickly for the breeder to stop it, and Eirik was gone, following the song of the pendant.
Heâd ridden through the dawn, quickly leaving the quiet streets of the city and cutting across country, taking little notice when the sun rose over the landscape. Despite the importance of the mission it felt good to be free from the confines of the village. Now, standing on a hilltop near a major road, he knew he was getting close. He climbed back onto the stallion and cantered off once more.
Arthur and Ash made their way slowly through the forest. The land sloped downwards, away from Cousin Maggieâs house and towards the lake. The trees were lofty and mostly bare, although a few evergreens sprouted up here and there. The ground beneath was
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