Free The Hunter Victorious by Rose Estes

flooded Keri’s mind. “What… what do you mean?” She clenched her hands around Uba Mintch’s arm.
    “I do not know for certain. Perhaps I should not have spoken until I know more.…”
    “What are you saying? Tell me!” Keri cried fiercely.
    “Our world is covered with a layer of dark clouds. It is impossible to see what, if anything, lies beneath it. It could be
     that the cloud of debris is all that remains, but some of the star watchers seem to think otherwise. They say that sometimes
     when a massive eruption occurs naturally, rock anddust are blown out with great force, a great enough force that it is caught by the winds and will circle the planet for years
     to come.”
    “Do they think… did you see…?” Keri asked, scarcely daring to hope.
    Uba Mintch shook his head. “They are divided in thought: Some say yes, some say no. I could see nothing but the cloud. But
     even if our world did survive, it would not be as we remember it. The star watchers say that the dark clouds will shield the
     planet from the sun and it will grow cold—as cold as it is here on Valhalla, perhaps even colder. It will be permanent winter
     for many, many years to come. Many things will die, among those things that were fortunate enough to survive the initial blast.”
    “But it will be possible that many would live?”
    “Possible,” said Uba Mintch, taking her two small hands inside his own. “It is barely possible. You and I, child… we must
     pray to whatever gods we have left that there really is such a thing as a miracle.”
    Otir Vaeng sat in his high-backed chair staring into the flames that warmed his personal chambers, thinking back over the
     events of the evening. It was going well, he thought, as well as could be expected. When first he had begun his program to
     lead the people back to the old gods, he had serious doubts that they would accept the ancient deities. He had been astonished
     at the ease with which they embraced, even welcomed, the old pantheons.
    He had studied all the old masters of manipulation: the Borgias, Machiavelli, Hitler, Mussolini, Churchill, Foster, and most
     recently Hellserman. All had advocated the use of religion and superstition or its total abolition in order to bind the people
     to have them obey one’s will. Vaeng knew that in times of turmoil and fear, people turned to supernatural deitieswho might have more control over the fates than mere mortals.
    The Scandi nations had been spared many of the horrors that had marched around the globe, perhaps aided by the climate, which,
     though greatly warmed, was still much cooler than other less fortunate parts of the world. The rising seas had also cut them
     off and isolated them from easy access except from the desperate hordes to the north. These they had been forced to discourage
     with lethal measures.
    Otir Vaeng had been led by his father, who was king before him, to accept the inevitable conclusion that earth must be abandoned,
     that they must take to the stars and carve out a new world from the heavens if they were to survive. His father had chosen,
     then, the best and the brightest among them from all the Scandi nations. The others were to follow in additional crafts. Only
     Otir Vaeng and his father knew that those ships would never feel the cold breath of space upon their hulls. There was no room
     for error, no food to be wasted on unnecessary mouths.
    It had been hard at first, with angry words and threats of violence when it was realized that no other ships would come, for
     many loved ones had been left behind. But in the end there was nothing to be done, for it was not possible, in those early
     years, to make the long voyage back to earth.
    They had found the new world and Otir Vaeng’s father had named it Valhalla after the old legends, for it was a place of rebirth
     where their world would live once again. If any still believed in gods—and there were some who still uttered furtive prayers—it
     was easy