By Alex Archer, Steven Savile
A sword of legend within the arms of an extremist…
Skalunda Barrow, Sweden, has lengthy been rumored to be the ultimate resting position of the mythical Nordic hero Beowulf. And there's anything of Beowulf's that charismatic and zealous right-wing flesh presser Karl Thorssen wishes very badly. reason on getting his arms at the legendary sword Nægling, Sweden's golden-boy politico places jointly a group to excavate the barrow. A staff that American archaeologist Annja Creed manages to finagle her manner onto. She wouldn't omit this attainable discovery for something.
With Nægling at his facet, Thorssen will be invincible…a Nordic King Arthur. What his fans don't know—and Annja is commencing to suspect—is simply how a ways Thorssen will visit in attaining his rabid amibitions. whilst Thorssen marks Annja for dying, she speedy realizes that this is often even more than a political video game. And the one method to live to tell the tale is to compare Thorssen's sword along with her personal.
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Extra info for Grendel's Curse (Rogue Angel, Book 48)
The scream was once earsplitting. Nightsplitting. nearly forgotten, Thorssen’s mom got here lunging out of the darkness at the rooftop. “You killed my son,” she shrieked, her voice shrill and piercing. “You killed my son! ” Annja regarded from her to Thorssen’s ruined physique and again back. the mum ran to her boy’s aspect and stroked his head, mumbling persistently as she did. Annja sponsored away to provide them what little privateness she may, given the conditions. Viveka Thorssen rewarded her via snatching up the damaged blade from the place it lay beside her son and pointing it towards Annja. “Please, take into consideration what you’re doing,” Annja stated, either fingers held out as if to pacify the girl. “It doesn’t need to finish like this. ” “You killed my son! ” “I had no choice,” Annja stated, determined for her to appreciate. “There’s been adequate loss of life this present day. Please don’t do that. ” Thorssen’s mom held the damaged sword out and slashed with it wildly, hacking on the air among them with out ability or regulate. Annja meant to wrest the damaged sword clear of her and prevent a person else getting damage the following this night. while the idea crossed her brain, a wild swing of Nægling whistled by means of. Thorssen’s mom swung time and again, yet Annja stored out of the sword’s succeed in, permitting Viveka to push her towards the shattered home windows into the most residence. the lady used to be tiring. The pauses among these large unwieldy swings of the sword grew longer, the sword weighing on her up to the demise of her son. nonetheless, Annja bided her time. The rain persisted mercilessly, using into Annja’s eyes. instead of holiday her spirit, the breather appeared to reinvigorate Thorssen’s mom, who got here at Annja with sword raised. Her cry, kind of like ahead of. “This is for my son! ” Annja had attempted to carry the girl off, however it used to be not attainable now. simply as she was once approximately to summon her sword, Thorssen’s mom sank to the floor in entrance of her, crumpling like a rag doll. It took a second for Annja to achieve kitchen knife—the one Garin had misplaced in the course of his struggle together with her son—was sticking out from the woman’s again. “For my son,” a feminine voice acknowledged. Annja may perhaps slightly concentration in the course of the darkness and the rain, yet slowly she observed who it used to be. It was once Una Mortensen, and one other son were avenged. forty four She left Garin to scrub up, which to that end intended dragging the our bodies contained in the residence. Una shivered whereas they waited within the vehicle. the consequences of outrage had began to take over from grief. She wanted leisure. all of them did. “What occurred? ” Annja requested. “It used to be for Lars. and that i did it simply because she laughed at me. ” “Thorssen’s mom? Why might she chortle at you? ” “Because I instructed her that i used to be yes her son was once liable for the demise of mine. She simply laughed, then she hit me. She was once much more desirable than she seemed. the following factor I knew i used to be at midnight with my fingers tied. i'll pay attention voices someplace in the home yet I couldn’t circulation. no longer at first... ” She rubbed at her wrists, the pink welts swollen. She didn’t say the rest and Annja didn't press her.