A Viking Saga. Action and adventure at the end of the Viking age from Norway across the European Steppe, along the Silk Route into China's notorious Taklamakan desert. The desert so called by locals because those who venture in seldom venture out. Experience ancient peoples, cultures, lost tribes and hidden kingdoms. As well as mystery, action, adventure, love, lust, greed, comradeship and betrayal. Just what one would expect in a Viking Saga. As the Viking age is brought to an end in 1066 with ignominious defeat at the battle of Stamford Bridge, a rag-tag group of Vikings conclude the quiet life is not for them and they decide to go-a-Viking one last time. Retracing a journey of their youth across the European Steppe and down the mighty Dniepr river heading for Byzantium. Enroute a chance discovery in a Kiev library leads them to venture even further afield - to Astrakhan, across the Caspian sea, up the mighty Oxus river, through Parthia and Bactria and along the ancient Silk Route into Asia and Tian Xia (China). Engaged in a battle not of their choosing, they inflict fatalities on the sinister and evil Black Scorpions who want to exact their revenge. Escaping entrapment in a cave, pursued, they flee by night across the Roof of the World and meet the remnants of the \"\"lost\"\" European tribe of Asia, the Hepthalites, who offer them protection in their city, hidden in the Tien Shan - the Celestial Mountains. A place where romance is kindled and love unexpectedly blossoms. During their winter sojourn in the Hidden City they gather more clues, and in the spring continue with their quest, on into the Taklamakan desert. The desert so called by locals because those who venture in seldom venture out. More danger and peril lies in wait for this rag-tag Viking crew as they travel along the Silk Route, the world's first super-highway. At the eastern end of their journey they meet the Lang Ren, the Wolf people of Lou Lan, outcasts thieves and criminals living in an abandoned city in the desert. A city without water. A city about to die. A city in which the final clue to their quest is uncovered. What fate awaits this motly crew and what fate awaits the Lang Ren, a rejected element of Asian society?
"Be just and fear not.
Let all thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's."
Shakespeare.
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I, Adhelm, Abbot of this monastery of --, being eye-witness, and likewise participator in the unhappy times my beloved country was subjected to, in consequence of the Norman Conquest and the troublous times which followed, it occurred to me to make a record of these things after the example of the beloved Bede, whose "Chronicles" are so justly esteemed by those who are concerned in the history of our ancient race.
I would have it known, then, by all those who are interested in the matter, that this ancient monastery was founded by that wise and good king, Alfred, who assigned unto it, for revenue, one hundred and twenty hides of land; all of which was well wooded and watered, being fertile and free. That is, with sack and sock, toll and team, and infang-thief. It pleased him also, in furtherance of his purpose, to lay charges upon certain thegns and nobles, who had lands adjacent to this monastery assigned to them by him, that they should annually pay to the monastery for the maintenance of the brotherhood, and for the purpose of defraying the cost of its extensive charities and hospitalities, one hundred and fifty loads of wood, and twenty-five loads of faggots; together with thirty-five tuns of pure ale; seventy beasts, ready for slaughter; twelve hundred loaves; fifty-six measures of Welsh ale; sixteen butts of wine; six horses; and one hundred and thirty pounds, ten shillings, of money. Now, as to all other matters, such as the particulars of lands and farms, church and cloister, granges, Abbot's and Prior's lodgings, which may be of interest to some, but which are not material to this narrative; I refer all such to our carticularies, in which all these particulars were carefully noted by our sacristan. Enough, however, has now been said to show that in the merely worldly point of view, this monastery was, when in peaceful enjoyment of its emoluments, a foundation of no mean order. In consequence also of its bounties it attracted palmers, minstrels, newsbearers, from all parts of the kingdom. Thus I had exceptional opportunities of learning how the kingdom fared.
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Adown the valley one bright September morning, in the year 1066, was speeding Ethel, the only daughter of the Danish thane Beowulf, who is lord of the domain of Rivenwood, and whose hall looks down from the wooded heights in the distance like a grim sentinel. This fair girl Ethel was probably not more than fifteen years of age-just at the juncture where coy and blushing maidenhood, with its unconscious assumptions of grace and dignity, joins issue with the freer and bolder manners of girlhood, and when the wholesome, innocent, and graceful blending is wholly interesting, and often most piquant. Most piquant indeed, at all events, was this graceful specimen of budding womanhood. Her brow was open and expressive, her countenance somewhat broad, in sympathy with her manner of life; the free, unfettered, and merry out-of-door life of sylvan England. Her blue eyes glanced, and sparkled, and glowed, betokening a mind responsive and alert as the falcon which perched upon her embroidered leathern gauntlet. Her nose was perfectly straight, but had just so much of an upward trend as to indicate the point positive, and the attitude-"beware all." Upon her head she wore a sort of cap of blue silk, broad at the crown and drooping over the broad scarlet band with which it was bound. In the front of this head-dress stood erect a couple of eagles' feathers; whilst from underneath it the flaxen curls, like the fetterless things they were, burst luxuriantly, and circled across her forehead and over her ears; and though the wanton tresses were captured again at the back of her head, yet they burst away again and ran riot over her shoulders and down to her girdle. Of jewellery, she wore a handsome gold torc which encircled her neck, on which, and on the pendants attached thereto, were skilfully engraved strange mystical runic devices. She wore a mantle trimmed with fur, which on this occasion flowed loosely down her back, leaving free her arms, but which, at needs be, became a cloak covering the upper parts of her body entirely. Her under dress was of woollen material and tight-fitting, whilst her sandals had a stout sole of leather with toe-piece and overstraps of prepared deer skin. Accompanying this fair girl was a favourite maid, and one of her father's housecarles who filled the office of ranger and provider for the household, in the matters of fish and game. At his heels there followed a couple of dogs, whilst on his left arm there perched a falcon with all his furniture on. On Ethel's arm also there perched another falcon, ready for flight.
"Let the dogs go now, Bretwul, for we should have good sport hereabouts, and have a capital view of it too, on this hillside," said the maiden.
At a word of encouragement from Bretwul the dogs, with wagging tails, immediately clapped nose to ground, and commenced threading in and out amongst the gorse and brushwood to start the game. Presently a loud fluttering of wings and a scream, sent the hawks into a violent agitation, and a handsome-plumaged pheasant took to wing. Ethel immediately whipped off the hood of her hawk, and quick almost as a flash of lightning it covered the helpless quarry. Then down it swooped, and a struggling mass of feathers and mingled plumage came fluttering to the ground.
"Oh, that is wretchedly poor, Bretwul!" exclaimed Ethel impatiently. "I like a good long chase which puts master Grey-eye thoroughly upon his mettle. Such sluggard creatures as that one are poor sport. Come, let us climb higher, for amid yon gorse and bracken on the hill we shall meet with partridge, moorfowl, or perhaps, better still, a woodcock. Then we shall test the mettle of little Grey-eye." So together they clambered through the brackened steep, until they reached the fringe of the heather which crowned the brow of the hill. Soon they espied a covey of grouse racing along before them stealthily amid the cover; but promptly these sprang aloft with whirring sound of wing, and loud, peculiar cries. Ethel again unhoods her favourite falcon, Grey-eye, and flings him towards the game. But the falcon has another matter in hand than that of bringing down a sluggard pheasant; for moorfowl, when fairly on the wing, scud along like the wind. Immediately also when they perceived the enemy in pursuit they changed their tactics, and, quitting the mountain side, made a dart for the valley, where shelter was to be had. Plump and heavy, the descent suits them more than the falcon; and with impetuous whirl they rush along with incredible speed. It seems as though the hawk will never head them! The valley is reached, and the moorfowl, flying low, are hidden from view by the tops of the trees; but the hawk can be seen scudding along above them.
"Oh, my poor Grey-eye, you are beaten this time, I do believe!" cried Ethel. But just at that moment there was an arrow-like swoop. "Bravo!" she shouted. "He has struck his quarry, for he never swoops to miss! Come along, Bretwul, or he will gorge himself, and then he will fly no more to-day, the greedy little glutton!" Then away she raced down the rough declivity, leaving her maid panting and trembling far behind.
"There she goes! there she goes! Plague on the girl!" ejaculated Bretwul. "Did ever mortal see such a girl? She's like a two-year-old filly that has never had bit in mouth or harness to back; and if she throw out a splint or strain a fetlock, why then the old thane will cozen my back with a cudgel, and call me a lazy lout of a churl. Come along, Eadburgh, my buxom lass, I have finished my wattled cote in the dell yonder, and if we come well out of this, we'll get the girl to wheedle the master for us, and then it will be done in a twinkling; for he's ready enough when Dame Ethel lays on the butter." So together they stumbled after their mistress with might and main.
But the girl mood was uppermost in the damsel now, and away she flew down the hill with her long hair streaming behind her, giving never a thought to man or maid. She came to a halt, however, when she reached the spot where apparently Grey-eye had made his swoop. But not a trace of either falcon or victim was to be seen. In vain she blew a tiny silver whistle with which she was wont to call her hawks. There was no response. "The greedy fellow is gorging himself I doubt not, Bretwul," cried Ethel impatiently. "If you feed him before flying he is too lazy to exert himself, and if he hunt on an empty stomach he must needs turn glutton after this fashion."
At that moment the clear blast of a hunter's horn in the distance broke upon the ears of the three seekers, and Ethel, hastily turning in the direction, exclaimed, "Oh, dear me! Eadburgh, straighten my hair for me, quick. Do I look a gowk? Do be quick! Straighten my cloak out. Those gallant gentlemen are returning who would not let me take part in the boar hunt because I was a girl, honest Beowulf was pleased to say. But Master Oswald was no better, though he has spent so much time about the court, and, I am told, carried off the Queen's favour at the tilt ground at Westminster, and that too against the picked squires of Normandy. I suppose I was only a girl in his eyes too, though he was not pleased to say it, like Beowulf. Never mind, I will let them see I can amuse myself, and find good sport too, without them."
Presently a couple of horsemen issued from the forest, clad in hunters' attire, with a green baldric over their shoulders and down to their waists, from which was suspended a hunter's horn. These two were quickly followed by a retinue of rangers, serving men, and hounds, with the weapons of the chase-boar spears, javelins, and short swords; whilst over the backs of a couple of horses were thrown the carcasses of a pair of wild boar, the fruit of their morning's chase.
No sooner did these young chieftains set eyes on Ethel than the countenance of the younger of them was wreathed in smiles, and snatching his bugle from his belt he blew a mocking blast in the ear of the damsel; then, in the blandest of tones, and with an assumption of mock gallantry, he saluted the maiden: "Bon matin, madame. Are you taking a little gentle exercise in company of your maid?" and he doffed his hunter's bonnet and made a most pretentious bow.
"I beg your pardon, gallant sir," retorted Ethel, with a gracious inclination, parodying with inimitable grace and humour his mock gallantry, "but if it please you, sir, I am not taking a little gentle exercise in company of my maid, I am hawking, as you may easily see if you care to."
"Oh, I see quite easily, madame. So you determined to have a little sport all to yourself because we disdained the company of a lady at our boar hunt?" said the young man, with a twinkle in his eye.
"You have hit it quite wonderfully, sir; which is very remarkable. We take note of your behaviour, for, although we do not go to court, we hear about your pranking it about with grand Norman dames and knights errant, and we expected something quite different from you than from Beowulf here. But I have lost my hawk hereabouts, so make amends for your past conduct. Get down, brother Beowulf; and you too, sir; you have travelled in France, so show your chivalry and your gallantry by getting down and helping me seek my hawk."
"I bow most humbly to your imperious commands, noble lady," said Oswald again, doffing his bonnet in mock humility.
Meanwhile, honest Beowulf sat almost dumbfounded whilst this passage of wit was proceeding, though he only dimly comprehended what this new-fangled jargon meant; but his choler was rising rapidly during the process. "Now, drop it fooling, you two!" he at length broke out. "You, Ethel, would imitate Master Oswald and be off to court too, for all your japes and jokes about his pranking and parading it with the grand folks, if we did not tie a clog about your neck for you. I know very well what passes in that jay's noddle of yours, though you think I'm a numskull, Mistress Ethel."
This outburst of sturdy Beowulf's was greeted by the pair with a shout of hilarious laughter.
"Now don't make asses of yourselves," grunted brother Beowulf. "Whereabouts did you lose your hawk, Ethel?"
"Why, hereabouts, Beowulf. Did you not hear me? He was pursuing moorfowl from the hill, and he appeared to strike his quarry just in this place."
"If that be so, I warrant the headlong flight of the stricken bird would carry them much farther down the slope," said Oswald.
"A bright idea, I do declare, Master Oswald," exclaimed Ethel. "We never thought of that, Bretwul. You will gain some repute for wit, neighbour Oswald, if you brighten up like this."
"I am much obliged for your condescension, lady; I feel highly honoured and greatly flattered by your compliment;" and again he made pretence of a low obeisance.
"Oh, don't take it too seriously, sir; but we will take your hint, nevertheless." So the party extended their search, and presently they discovered the falcon and his prey beneath a tree-the hawk having improved the time by stripping the bird of its plumage, and gorging himself with the flesh and blood of his victim.
"There, you greedy creature," exclaimed Ethel, as she set eyes on the falcon. "You will fly no more to-day, I suppose, you glutton! I think you had better hood him at once, Bretwul, and take him home; and I will join this party of gallants-by their permission, of course-and if they should now deem it quite safe for a lady to do so."
So the two young chieftains and Ethel headed the company, and steadily they pressed homeward to the rough and primitive, but nevertheless hospitable hall of Beowulf the Dane.
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Chapter 1 ETHEL.
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Chapter 2 STORM CLOUDS.
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Chapter 3 TRAITORS IN COUNCIL.
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Chapter 4 DEFEAT.
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Chapter 5 DESPERATE RESOLVES.
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Chapter 6 BARON VIGNEAU.
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Chapter 7 ALICE DE MONTFORT.
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Chapter 8 VILLAINS PLOTTING.
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Chapter 9 VILLAINS OUTWITTED.
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Chapter 10 A FRUITLESS EMBASSY.
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Chapter 11 OSWALD'S DEFENCE OF HIS CASTLE.
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Chapter 12 ALICE DE MONTFORT SETS FREE THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN.
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Chapter 13 BARON VIGNEAU BAULKED OF HIS REVENGE.
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Chapter 14 THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN CONFRONTS DE MONTFORT.
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Chapter 15 OUTLAWS AND WOLFSHEADS.
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Chapter 16 SIGURD THE VIKING.
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Chapter 17 EVIL COUNSELLORS.
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Chapter 18 LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE.
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Chapter 19 ALICE DE MONTFORT AND THE SAXON CHIEFTAIN.
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Chapter 20 WAR'S VICISSITUDES.
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Chapter 21 VIKING CHIEF AND SAXON MAIDEN.
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Chapter 22 A VIKING'S LOVE.
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Chapter 23 A VILLAIN DEMANDS HIS WAGES.
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Chapter 24 THE TRYST.
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Chapter 25 BADGER CRACKS THE NORMAN'S PATE.
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Chapter 26 SAXON AND VIKING AT THE SWORD'S POINT.
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Chapter 27 JEANNETTE AND WULFHERE, OR LOVE'S COMEDIES.
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Chapter 28 A GRIM TEMPLE, A GRIM PRIEST, AND A SAD HEART.
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Chapter 29 EDGAR ATHELING.
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Chapter 30 PRINCE AND PARASITE.
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Chapter 31 PRINCE AND VIKING.
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Chapter 32 BADGER ON THE ALERT.
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Chapter 33 DOG ROBS DOG.
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Chapter 34 WILD DARING OF SIGURD THE VIKING.
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Chapter 35 THE SAXON DEVIL AND THE WICKED ABBOT.
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Chapter 36 LOVERS PLOTTING.
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Chapter 37 THE JOUST, SAXON AND NORMAN.
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Chapter 38 THE SAXON'S REVENGE.
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Chapter 39 BEWARE THE VIKING.
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Chapter 40 THE HOUR BEFORE THE DAWN.
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