The Awakening_Book 1 of Valkyrie's Curse series Read online

  “Thank you to each one of you for signing on for my dream project. I believe that this site will be a tremendous advancement for research for the Historical preservation of early Viking society, as a national heritage for Denmark, and for family heritage. It is my belief based on the rune stones, that this was an important settlement in Viking days. After spending a grueling day of review by the board,” she paused taking in all the faces around the room “we’ve been given the go ahead.”

  Everyone cheered. She let them have a few minutes of celebration before motioning for them to settle down.

  “We will follow strict protocol, documenting everything, and there will be no short cuts on reports. I know, not as exciting but an essential part of the process. Tomorrow the alpha team will assist in laying out the grid. Beta squad will meet with me here in the mess tent at ten sharp. Gamma team at ten fifteen, and delta team at ten thirty. Brief meetings to get you started on your assignments. In eight days, we will have the second wave members arrive. At the end of the month, the third wave arrives.

  The board has instructed that they will send their man to camp to make sure everything is documented and ordered correctly.”

  Groans of displeasure spread around the room.

  “If you’re not familiar with your assignment, check with Erik. Where are my videographers and photographers?”

  The hands went up across the room, six individuals.

  “OK, I need to meet with you guys right away. Alright - every morning you’ll meet with your team leader. Every afternoon you’ll fill out reports.”

  Grumbling spread across the room. This was part of the process that was work and not fun. She recalled her first excavation and how she grumbled at having to record everything precisely. In fact, she had contaminated the dig site and been sent home. That wasn’t going to happen on this dig. The room was hazy around the periphery of her vision.

  “So, if everything goes as planned we will break ground tomorrow at two. I’ll hand it back over the Erik to get this party started.” She smiled weakly and handed Erik the mike.

  “You OK?” He asked concerned.

  “Yeah, just a little dizzy. Don’t know what’s up.”

  Erik guided her over to a corner table and had her sit down then directed the video and camera crew over to her then cued Brad to start the music. Brad worked as DJ at a local club during the school year. The club was closed for renovations over the summer months, so he brought some of his equipment with him.

  As the music began, Lena went over her plans with the videographers and photographers. She wanted all of them present when they broke ground and set the permit stakes.

  Lena stood to join in the party but as soon as she did the light headedness returned. She steadied herself on the edge of the table, glancing around to find Erik. It must have been something that she ate that was making her feel poorly. Deciding that maybe it was best if she didn’t stay, Lena moved towards the doorway, smiling and nodding to a few people that tried to engage her.

  If she could just get to her tent and lay down, perhaps she’d feel better in the morning. Two steps away from the door, she staggered and bumped into a dark haired girl that turned around scowling. “Hey watch where you’re going bitch!”

  Lena gave her a weak smile as the girl flinched when she saw who it was. “Sorry. I need to get some air.”

  She tried to control the drunken stagger, only making it more noticeable. Leaning against the back of the jeep, she closed her eyes trying to shake it off.

  “Helena. You OK?” She heard Erik as he approached, then felt his arm slip under hers and drape her arm over his neck. She felt weak, like she’d been drugged. But who would have drugged her? It made no sense.

  ~~~~~

  Down the hill from the camp, towards the water’s edge a man in a black coat, black sock cap and thin leather gloves spread the herbal concoction in a ring around the altar stone as he voiced the Incantation. It was only the beginning step to his plan. As he walked, he repeated the incantation. He’d arrived barely with enough time to get things into place. Glancing over at the girl who would be his sacrifice, he felt anger at her for delaying him. If it wasn’t for the ritual requiring her to be conscious to give consent, he would have kept her sedated. The tone of his chants changed with his rising ire.

  He heard the music begin at the camp up the hill. He lifted his eyes skyward and said a thank you to Tyr. This provided an excellent cover if the girl made much noise. He closed the circle with the herbal mix. He took the gold ring, the bronze cuff, and the silver clasp to the altar stone. He set them in the middle of the stone, filled the center with the ash bark, dried heather, and small bits of mica. Striking the ceremonial dagger against the stone key causing a spark. Once the heather ignited, he tossed on the lavender. A thick white smoke poured off followed by a sudden flash of brilliant light before the fire burned out. He set the items at the top of the stone and stepped out of the ring to get the girl.

  He spoke the next line of the incantation that would allow him back inside the sacred circle with the girl.

  ~~~~~

  Erik nearly carried Helena the last few feet to her tent. She seemed drugged. She hadn’t taken anything that he had seen that would cause such a reaction. Inside her tent door, her head lolled forward as she went completely limp. Just like in the car, she was simply out.

  He lifted her legs and carried her to her cot. He threw her blanket over her and went for help. Inside the mess tent where everyone celebrated, he sought out the nurse, Jim Draves.

  ~~~~~

  The girl squirmed in his arms, glancing up at him. “Are we going to your yacht now? You said you’d take me sailing on your yacht.”

  “In a few minutes my sweet, be patient.” He patted her arm as he moved her to the stone. “Sit here for me. We are going to play a little game.”

  “Ooh fun. I like games.” She grinned seductively up at him.

  He took her hands in his, wrapping the twine tightly around her wrist.

  “Ooh daddy. I didn’t know you were into this. Tie me up and spank your dirty girl.”

  He smirked. It was a good thing that this first sacrifice didn’t have to be a virgin. “Yes my dear girl. Daddy is going to get downright freaky with you. I’m going to punish you for your wickedness.”

  She giggled and held her hands out towards him. “Wouldn’t we be more comfortable on your yacht though?”

  He secured the knot. Then stepped away from her, bending to the duffle bag which held his items.

  “My darling girl. This part has nothing to do with comfort. Now be a good girl for daddy and lay back on the stone.”

  “OK” She batted her eyes and gave him a seductive smile.

  “Lift your head sweetheart.” She complied as he slipped a silk handkerchief around her head covering her eyes.

  “What if I get scared daddy?”

  “Not to worry sweets. I’ve got that covered as well.” He glanced down over her body, her hard nipples pressed against the thin cotton oxford that she wore. Her school uniform skirt hiked up her hips to where the bottom hem barely covered her panties. He reached into the bag for the other silk handkerchief and put it over her mouth, in a tight gag.

  “Mmm mmmm ggg ammm” She tried to voice her protest. He could see her heartbeat had increased by the pulse at her neck.

  “Excellent. You’re doing very well sweetheart.” He bent and retrieved the silver dagger, slipping the black cloth back into the bag. “Do you trust daddy?”

  She nodded even as she turned her head back and forth trying to scoot the handkerchief down from her eyes.

  He tore open her shirt, buttons flying and cloth ripping. With a flick of the knife he had cut through the fabric of her bra. She gasped.

  He began reciting the last line of the incantation as he began carving the ancient symbols across her chest, pressing his forearm down over her shoulders to hold her still. Her muffled screams drowned out by the pulsating bass pounding up the hill. At
the last word, and speaking the name - Tyr, he plunged the dagger into her heart. Slowly the blood began to pool from her flesh. He swiped his fingers through it and wrote the remaining runes. He positioned the bowl to catch the blood that trickled down.

  By the time he finished writing the last symbol on her body, her heart beat it’s last.

  “Perfect timing my dear. You did well.”

  * * *

  Helena shot up in her cot eyes wide chanting something under her breath. Fifteen seconds later she lay sound asleep.

  Chapter 7: Vivaldi’s Four Seasons

  Strength is Life

  For the strong have the right to rule.

  Norse Proverb

  He looked down over the limp form. It was a necessary step, nothing more. It wasn’t that he enjoyed the act, not really. He had resigned himself months before that this was a necessity.

  It was no different than when his father had butchered a cow or a pig. Their purpose was to provide sustenance for him and the rest of his family.

  This creature’s purpose was to provide the lifeblood needed to gain the attention of Tyr. It wasn’t a random choice. He watched, listened for clues. The gods didn’t accept random choices, there were specific requirements. She met all those requirements and was eager to fulfill her destiny.

  Who was he to deny her fate?

  He went to his duffle bag and took out the folded dress bag, the Kjolepose. She was a petite girl, she’d easily fit inside. Carefully lifting her, taking great care to not get her blood on his clothes he transferred her lifeless form to the bag. Brushing the hair from her face, knowing that she was a vain creature, she wouldn’t like her hair being mussed or her clothes in disarray. He grasped at the two sides of the bra, pinning them together with a safety pin. Then he took care to adjust her blouse, smoothing down the front as the blood soaked into the fabric, sticking it in place. He couldn’t do much about that. Slowly and carefully he zipped the bag.

  “We’re going to the yacht now my darling, just as promised. You did very well.” He lifted her from the stone, being very gentle to set her on the ground at his feet, continuing to talk with her as he cleaned the stone.

  He took the rags from the bag, and began to scrub. “Your parents would be so proud of you. I’m sure they weren’t too happy with your previous behavior. Allowing yourself to be used by those boys for their pleasure, degrading yourself to gain their attention. I don’t understand why such a pretty young girl such as yourself would demean herself so.” He continued scrubbing.

  “How many was it you said? A dozen? In my youth no proper girl would allow more than a stolen kiss.” He tisked to himself as he stuffed a blood soaked rag into a plastic bag and reached for the next one.

  “You are indeed blessed however, that the gods have favored you. It is a great honor to be chosen.” Carefully, he wiped at the stone, making sure to get every last drop. He reached for the black light, shining it over the surface, holding the cloth he had soaked with peroxide and cleaned up the last bit of evidence.

  “If I had thought to record it, your audience would see your stellar performance, however I did not. I dare not for the gods do not share their glory, nor this world comprehend the workings of a god’s mind. I will be certain to send a gift to your family to reward them for providing to the gods. Now my dear, it’s off to the yacht. I have your quarters prepared for our sea voyage. I think you’ll like it.”

  He stuffed the bag of rags, the items for the ritual, and the dagger into his bag. Shining his flashlight briefly around the site to make certain he had everything, he sighed. It was done.

  He knelt and zipped his bag, hoisting her body over his shoulder then stood, steadying his package and grabbing the bag with his left hand wobbling for a brief moment.

  A slight groan as he stood escaped. “The body does protest in my increased age. Never fear my dear, I am still as capable as ever, just maybe not as fast. Most of the ladies don’t seem to mind that part.”

  He made his way back along the pathway that ran against the rock bluff. It was nearly hidden from view but for the few breaks in the undergrowth. His car sat at the end of the path from the rune stones. Gesturing his thanks to the god Tyr towards the stones, he put the girl’s body in the trunk and drove to the marina to his yacht, grateful that nobody would be around to question him.

  “Well darling, it seems your delays are working in our favor. Our voyage will be underway this very night.” He looked up to the clear bright skies, smiling at his success.

  ~~~~~

  Helena dreamed of flying. In the past it seemed that she miraculously flew, but in this dream she had wings. Great wings with silvery white feathers that shimmered in the sun’s rays. Her hair shone in brilliant golden hues. Her skin had a radiance from within, her cheeks rosy, her lips full. She felt an inner beauty and confidence that although unfamiliar fit her perfectly like a glove. She rose into the air, watching the warriors below.

  Brave men poured from a hidden passage into the courtyard. Moving with quiet stealth, they moved to stations waiting for a signal from the leader.

  Her eyes scanned the scene, watching. Which one was the leader? Then with a quick raise of his hand the men advance with a great war cry. Waiting, observing the men working as a unit together to accomplish a greater goal. This would please Odin!

  A young man poked his head from the tunnel, then ducked back inside. A few seconds later he darted across the courtyard to a smaller building. Drawing his sword he entered.

  She dropped lower, so she could see inside, seeing a large wooden cabinet and another man fleeing. The young man approached the cabinet, searched it and found it empty, then pursued the other man.

  The encounter was brief, easily taking the treasure from the thief. Confidence flooded over her. At last, a worthy warrior to claim.

  A loud crash woke Lena. She stepped outside her tent to see a couple staggering past the row of tents. At least it wasn’t wolves. The idea of wolves terrified her. She knew their sightings were rare, but never the less, they terrified her.

  ~~~~~

  He slowed the engines, turning Siren’s Song parallel with the shore. The faint line of the coast in the distance was reassuring. Not quite comfortable with deep sea voyages, he was most comfortable with land in sight. The news reports from the night before indicated that several sharks had been spotted off the Irish coast. He took the bucket of pieces, tossing them into the swirling blackness. Once the three buckets of “chum” were poured out, he rinsed them with the sea water. Once the task was complete he restarted the engines and headed back in the direction of Roskilde.

  Anchored off the coast, the gentle sway of the water’s movement soothed his raw nerves. He went to the guest room he had converted to a mobile laboratory and turned on his phone dock, then started paying his favorite playlist.

  Once Vivaldi’s Four Seasons began, he put on the leather work apron and elbow length rubber gloves. If there was one thing he couldn’t tolerate, it was a room left in disorder and as this wasn’t a task he could push off on a servant, he must handle it himself. He poured himself a glass of white wine before beginning.

  The saws-all was washed, cleaned and oiled before placing it back inside its case. This was stowed in an overhead compartment. The girl’s clothing was used as rags to wipe down the steel table, then rinsed in the small sink and wrung out. He paused for a few moments, enjoying the music, sipping his wine, imagining himself at the opera. The image of the conductor with his baton caused a smile. He took a swig, draining the glass.

  He poured another before his favorite passage came up. He set the glass down, grabbing the mop, pausing to match his movements with the movement of the piece. It was a beautiful, elegant dance about the room, mopping the floor in a thorough and fast paced fluid grace. Keeping time with the music perfectly. He rinsed the mop, then began again going over it a second time. Towards the end of the second movement he had finished and stood at the sink, ankles crossed, sipping his wine, satisfi
ed with a job well done.

  In the corner where the double bunks remained folded up, stood a surgical steel cart, wheels locked in place over three layers of plastic sheeting. On top of the cart was a large industrial stock pot. He poured one gallon of distilled water inside the pot. He added the potassium hydroxide to the water, stirring with the long handled surgical steel tongs.

  He walked back towards the sink, taking another sip of wine before picking up the decapitated head of the young lady who had been chosen.

  “Well what do you think of my yacht, my dear? I do apologize for the mess earlier. Oh, I know I should have cleaned it straight away but I did want to get about the business. As it turned out everything worked out just fine. Thank you for” he chuckled at his own irony. “A divine evening but now it’s time for you to go.” He carried her head to the pot, and dropped it inside, watching it sink into the liquid, her blond tresses dissolving in the liquid. He placed the steel lid back onto the pot, securing it with a couple bungee straps from handle to handle, and making certain that the cart was secured as well.

  The bundle of rags were stuffed inside a trash bag then stowed under the sink. He leaned back against the counter with his ankles crossed again. Holding his glass, enjoying the music as he savored the remainder of his wine. He took the bottle, making a mental note to purchase another case. Before the next track played he switched the dock off, flipped the light switch off and headed to his quarters.

  He hastened in removing the apron, his clothing, and the gloves. The gloves went on the edge of the sink, while the rest went into a quick load of laundry. The small apartment sized stacking appliances were indeed a functional necessity that he would make certain his next yacht was equipped with. He slipped on his silk pajamas and sat in the middle of his bed, journal in hand, content with how the day had played out.

  He was at first a bit nervous that he could pull it off, but realized that it was just the nerves of doing something for the first time.