Free The Orphan Alliance (The Black Ships Book 3) by A.G. Claymore Page B

if
anything. This one is nothing more than a mannequin of charo husks, good at
frightening the avians away from the crops. He looked through the posturing
fool as he examined his last thoughts. I’m still using Orontes’ memories, he
realized. It was the knife that triggered it, I’ll bet. I fell back on
memories that fit the situation. “If I meet this ‘Valdemar’, I shall be
sure to act accordingly.”
    A look of angry frustration suffused Valdemar’s features.
“No, you fool! I am…”
    “Ahh! The ‘Butcher of Presh’,” a loud voice proclaimed in
Midgaard.
    Harry turned to see Odin striding toward him, several
captains following behind. Odin was Caul’s father and had spent the last
twenty-five centuries marooned on Earth. It had been a difficult situation to
resolve, since his son now led the huge war band of Midgaard warriors and could
not be expected to give up a hard-won command to his father. The answer had
been to name Odin the Lawgiver and so, here he was, ready to sit in judgement
at the Althing. It was a position of lesser power than Caul’s, but it was still
one of great honor.
    Odin was the sort of leader that made a person feel as
though they were the focus of the moment. If he spoke to a man, he turned the
full force of his attention and charm on him. He was a brilliant tactician and
he used his skill to great effect, even in a simple conversation. He had a
knack for identifying common ground and he could maneuver on that ground as
effectively as on a real battlefield.
    “Allfather,” Harry greeted him with an insolent grin.
    Odin laughed. “Haven’t been called that in centuries,” he
clapped Harry on the shoulder. “You know, a human writer that I used to know
actually wrote about me shacking up with a girl in Islington. Good bit of
comedy, that, and closer to the real story than his readers ever knew.”
    “I’ve read that story,” Harry blurted in surprise. “I even
thought about it when we first heard that you’d been living among us all this
time. Wouldn’t it be difficult, a relationship with someone who only lives a
fraction of your own lifespan?”
    “You ever spend five thousand years married to the same
woman?” Odin raised an eyebrow. “The honeymoon wears off after a couple of
centuries and you end up with an uneasy alliance. Freya tried to kill me at
least three times before I left Midgaard for the ‘raid that never ended’. It
was her ferocity in a fight that drew me to her in the first place.” He
chuckled. “Speaking of ferocity, how did you learn to fight like that?”
    “Lothbrok talks too much,” Harry said, waving a dismissive
hand.
    “Lothbrok?” Odin face showed surprise. “Haven’t you seen?
The Oaxians were broadcasting the fight to every planet in the Republic until
the Dactari deployed a worm to kill the data. I’ve seen it with my own eye. You
started with no weapon, and in the space of two minutes you put down three
armed opponents. It was one of the most brutal things I’ve ever seen and I was
part of the invasion of Britain, after the Romans left. My people have a name
for that kind of fighting – Bezerkier.”
     Harry had noticed, during Odin’s description of the
fight, that Valdemar had taken his hand away from his hilt. He was struggling
to keep the fear from showing on his face. He kept looking to the passing
crowds as though seeking a pretext to excuse himself, but the crowds were
thinning as the amphitheater filled up.
    The microclimate atop this building reminded Harry of
Norway. Is the climate of Midgaard like this? Maybe that’s why Odin settled
in Northern Europe…
    A light rain began to fall from the condenser plates,
pattering softly onto the leaf mould on either side of the wide path. An
automated awning began to unfold above the tiers of seats.
    “Time to get started. We have a busy docket today,” Odin
announced, nodding to Harry before heading for the central stair that would
lead him down to the large