Free The Bones Of Odin (Matt Drake 1) by David Leadbeater

stretched away from them, single file, resting end to end, as if stuck in the middle of an archaic traffic jam. Their sides were adorned with silver and gold, their sails festooned with silk and jewels.
    “Longboats,” Kennedy said dumbly.
    “Long-ships.” Ben still had wits enough to correct her. “Damn, these things were considered great treasures of their time. There must be . . . what? Twenty here?”
    “Pretty awesome,” Drake said. “But it’s the Spear we came for. Any ideas?”
    Ben was now staring at the World Tree. “Jesus, guys. Can you imagine? Odin hung in that tree. Fuckin’ Odin.”
    “So now you believe in Gods, hmm? Groupie-boy?” Kennedy sidled next to Ben a little saucily, making him blush.
    Drake climbed onto a narrow ledge that ran the length of the long-ship tailback. The rock felt sturdy. He gripped a timber edge and leaned over. “These things are filled with loot. Safe to say, no one’s ever been here before today.”
    He studied the line of ships again. A display of unimaginable riches, but where was the real treasure? At the end? The end of the rainbow? The sides of the cavern were adorned with ancient drawings. He saw a depiction of Odin hanging on the World Tree, a woman kneeling before him.
    “What does this say?” He beckoned Ben over. “C’mon, hurry. Those dodgy bastards aren’t jamming Bratwurst down their throats up there. Let’s move.”
    He indicated a rough swirl of text underneath the woman’s supplicating figure. Ben shook his head. “But technology will find a way. “ He took a snap with his trusty I-phone, which, thankfully, had proved to be out of signal down here.
    Drake took a moment to include Kennedy. “My only idea is to follow these longboats,” he said. “You okay with that?”
    “Like the cheerleader said to the football team - I’m game, boys. Lead the way.”
    He forged ahead, aware that if this super-tunnel came to a dead end they would be trapped. The Germans would be hard on their tail, not sat resting on their laurels. Drake compartmentalised the thought, focusing on the ledge that had been hewn into the rock. Every so often they came across another glow stick. Drake masked them or moved them to create a more shadowy environment, preparing for the struggle ahead. He searched constantly among the long-ships, and finally made out a tight path meandering between them.
    Plan B.
    Two, four, and then ten long-ships went past. Drake’s feet started to ache with the effort of negotiating the narrow path.
    The faint noise of a tumbling boulder, and then a louder scream echoed through the gargantuan cavern, its meaning obvious. Without a sound they bent even harder to their task.
    Drake came at last to the end of the row. He’d counted twenty-three ships, every one pristine and laden with loot. As they approached the back of the tunnel darkness started to encroach.
    “Guess they never got this far.” Kennedy remarked.
    Drake rummaged for the big flashlight. “Risky,” he said. “But we need to know.”
    He clicked it on and swept the beam from side to side. The passageway narrowed drastically, until it became a simple archway up ahead.
    And beyond the archway lay a single set of stairs.
    Ben suddenly stifled a scream, then stage-whispered: “They’re on the ledge!”
    This was it. Drake took action. “We split up,” he said. “I’ll go for the stairs. You two get down there among the ships and head back the way we came.”
    Kennedy started to protest, but Drake shook his head. “No. Do it. Ben needs protection, I don’t. And we need the Spear.”
    “And when we reach the end of the ships?”
    “I’ll be back by then.”
    Drake sprang away without another word, leaping off the ledge and making for the blind staircase. He looked back once and saw shadows advancing along the ledge. Ben was following Kennedy down the rubble-strewn slope to the base of the last Viking ship. Drake sent a prayer of hope and hit the stairs at a dead run,