LEGEND OF THE LAST VIKINGS - Free Alternate Ending - John Halsted - kostenlos E-Book

LEGEND OF THE LAST VIKINGS - Free Alternate Ending E-Book

John Halsted

0,0
0,00 €

oder
-100%
Sammeln Sie Punkte in unserem Gutscheinprogramm und kaufen Sie E-Books und Hörbücher mit bis zu 100% Rabatt.
Mehr erfahren.
Beschreibung

In 1066 upon the death of Edward the Confessor, Harald Hadraada, King of Norway challenged for the crown of England, claiming it was his through his bloodline. He led a large force of over 400 longships to England and after a few initial victories was defeated during the Battle of Stamford Bridge, near York, by Harold Goodwinson. Only 24 longships returned to Norway.Two weeks later Harold Goodwinson and his army, exhausted by the forced-march from York to Hastings, were defeated William the Conqueror. And the rest they say is history. Or is it?Questions remain. What happened to the Vikings after Stamford Bridge? Where did they go? What did they do?Well Legend of the Last Vikings is just one possibility…………..But why an Alternate Ending?When I started researching the book, I was amazed to discover that the Silk Route was not just one route, but instead a whole network of routes reaching from Eastern Europe and criss-crossing Asia. As such I had to decide which of these routes my characters would travel along. Before I could make this decision I had to research the routes. In doing so I found so much fascinating information on each, trying to decide which route to “travel” was not easy. Even though I eventually settled upon a route, I did not want to waste potential stories so decided to write an alternate ending which in effect gives the reader a two-for-one.Synopsis Chapters 1 – 33I was going to give a summary of the chapters 1 to 33 but have decided that too much action, adventure, character building and meaning would be lost in doing so, so I have kept this to a minimum by providing the following synopsis.On returning home to Norway after defeat at Stamford Bridge in 1066AD, our hero, Ulf Uspakson, herald to King Harald Hadraada, realises an era is over. Then he remembers the story of a Swedish Viking Adventurer, Yngvar Vittfarne (Yngvar the Far Travelled), who went missing on a journey to the East and in a last fling of youth decides to try and trace him – somewhere on the Silk Route. No easy task!The alternate ending starts at Chapter 34 with the conclusion of the adventure in China's Taklamakan desert – or is it?After leaving Shanguo and crossing the Tien Shan mountains, the crew, as I affectionately call this motley group, follow the course of the Jaxartes River (Syr Darya) to the Aral Sea in Kazakhstan. They then cross the Karakum and Barsuki deserts, they loop around the top of the Aral sea. Approaching Astrakhan from the North East, they are tired and weary after such an arduous journey. As always trouble awaits and the crew will have to summon physical and mental strength from reserves hidden deep within themselves.About the BookA finalist in the Foreword Magazine Book of the Year Competition. It has a 4 Star Amazon rating and reviews of the book can be found on the Amazon page as well.

Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:

EPUB
Bewertungen
0,0
0
0
0
0
0
Mehr Informationen
Mehr Informationen
Legimi prüft nicht, ob Rezensionen von Nutzern stammen, die den betreffenden Titel tatsächlich gekauft oder gelesen/gehört haben. Wir entfernen aber gefälschte Rezensionen.



Legend of the Last Vikings – Taklamakan

Alternate Ending

--oOo--

Introduction

In 1066 upon the death of Edward the Confessor, Harald Hadraada, King of Norway challenged for the crown of England, claiming it was his through his bloodline. He led a large force of over 400 longships to England and after a few initial victories was defeated during the Battle of Stamford Bridge, near York, by Harold Goodwinson. Only 24 longships returned to Norway.

Two weeks later Harold Goodwinson and his army, exhausted by the forced-march from York to Hastings, were defeated William the Conqueror. And the rest they say is history. Or is it?

Questions remain. What happened to the Vikings after Stamford Bridge? Where did they go? What did they do?

Well Legend of the Last Vikings is just one possibility…………..

But why an Alternate Ending?

When I started researching the book, I was amazed to discover that the Silk Route was not just one route, but instead a whole network of routes reaching from Eastern Europe and criss-crossing Asia. As such I had to decide which of these routes my characters would travel along. Before I could make this decision I had to research the routes. In doing so I found so much fascinating information on each, trying to decide which route to “travel” was not easy. Even though I eventually settled upon a route, I did not want to waste potential stories so decided to write an alternate ending which in effect gives the reader a two-for-one.

Chapters 1 - 33

I was going to give a summary of the chapters 1 to 33 but have decided that too much action, adventure, character building and meaning would be lost in doing so, so I have kept this to a minimum by providing the following synopsis.

Synopsis Chapters 1 – 33

On returning home to Norway after defeat at Stamford Bridge in 1066AD, our hero, Ulf Uspakson, herald to King Harald Hadraada, realises an era is over. Then he remembers the story of a Swedish Viking Adventurer, Yngvar Vittfarne (Yngvar the Far Travelled), who went missing on a journey to the East and in a last fling of youth decides to try and trace him – somewhere on the Silk Route. No easy task!

The alternate ending starts at Chapter 34 with the conclusion of the adventure in the Taklamakan desert – or is it?

After leaving Shanguo and crossing the Tien Shan mountains, the crew, as I affectionately call this motley group, follow the course of the Jaxartes River (Syr Darya) to the Aral Sea in Kazakhstan. They then cross the Karakum and Barsuki deserts, they loop around the top of the Aral sea. Approaching Astrakhan from the North East, they are tired and weary after such an arduous journey. As always trouble awaits and the crew will have to summon physical and mental strength from reserves hidden deep within themselves.

About the Book

A finalist in the Foreword Magazine Book of the Year Competition. It has a 4 Star Amazon rating and reviews of the book can be found at https://goo.gl/qVHd4G

The Companion at the rear contains character descriptions, historical companion, place name lexicon and maps.

The eBook (ePub & Pdf) can be purchased and downloaded online for US$3.99 at https://goo.gl/85yZtV

The Hardback, Paperback and Kindle can be purchased online from Amazon at https://goo.gl/qVHd4G

Both the hardcover and paperback measure: 14 x 2.2 x 21.6 cm.

In the words of one reviewer:

“….much smaller than the typical hardcover. It may seem an odd thing to remark on, but there is a satisfying heft to the book and it is easy to carry around, fitting nicely in a pocket in my windbreaker.”

John HalstedAuthor.

Chapter 34Old Friends

The masses of reed beds gave away the fact that we were approaching fresh water. That they stretched out for mil upon mil indicated it was a large river. Islands of reeds could be seen out in the river. Slowly but surely the smell of fresh water intermingled with the smell of human habitation until the latter superseded the former.

Just as the smell of human habitation increased, so did the occurrence of fishermen’s shacks, then houses, until at last we were well and truly back in this eastern city of canals and bridges.

We meandered our way through the city, overwhelmed at its size, business, noise and bustle. It was at total odds with the quiet, open expanses of the desert and steppe. Not even Otrar and Tengi Kent were comparable in size or activity.

Finally, after a few wrong turns, we found ourselves in the silversmiths’ row. It felt as if I were being reacquainted with a long-lost friend. Eventually we came to Balgichi’s shop, although it could never be called a shop. I rapped on the door and a female voice from the inside called out,

“Ver iz dort?”

“I don’t profess to understand what you’re saying, young lady, but I believe you have a young man of mine…”

The door flew open and Serakh, Rat and Pesakh burst out. Rat flung his arms around me and thumped me on the back and shouted,

“ULF! At last! We have been waiting and waiting and had almost given up. We have ridden the approaches day after day and scoured the port looking for you…”

Then he realised his predicament and withdrew all embarrassed. Not one of the crew laughed, but the grins on their faces told me that they understood.

“Come in, come in,” said Pesakh.

We entered the shop and it struck me that what had before been choked with books, maps and manuscripts, was now totally bare. Only a light layer of dust covered the floor.

“What…? Where is everything?”

Balgichi Simatov came out from the back, “It is all gone to Kyiv.”

“Kyiv? But why? You said that it was your books that kept you here.”

“And so it was. Well, I want to be near my grandchildren. When they arrive, that is.” He gave Rat and Serakh a soulful look.

“Am I missing something?” I asked.

“No,” replied Rat with a grin plastered over his face. “Only that Serakh and I were married two months ago.”

“So now we have a Missus Rat, eh? Ah, I know what it was, you couldn’t wait to dip your wick, eh?”

“No, it’s not like that…” he started.

Blushing, Serakh tugged his shirt.

“Oh, you’re teasing again,” said Rat.

“I surely am. Do you mean to say that I missed your wedding? And a feast?”

“Yes. Sorry.” he said, looking like a scolded child. He then added quickly, “But Lydia and Iksander were here.”

“Ah. Well then, we’ll just have to have another celebration. We have a long and interesting story to tell.

Sven, are you going to introduce Tsai Ming or what?”

“I think ‘or what’ should about do it” said Sven.

“Who is Tsai Ming?” asked Rat.

“Sven’s wife, of course.”

“Sven’s wife! Sven has a wife? Where is she?”

Little Tsai Ming was brought forward and Sven placed a protective arm about her as best he could.

“She is Sven’s wife!” exclaimed Rat and Pesakh together, staring at the diminutive but beautiful Tsai Ming.

“But she is so small,” said Rat.

Serakh elbowed Rat in the ribs and he winced. Serakh and Tsai Ming had made eye contact and both smiled broadly. Now they could look forward to the journey to Kyiv in company other than that of ten boorish men.

“Rat, when did they leave for Kyiv?”

“Seven weeks ago, tomorrow.”

“Well they should be there by now,” said Sven.

“Yes, they should. Well, why are we standing here? We have just crossed the world and are thirsty and hungry.”

Teasing Serakh, I said, “Well then, are you going to just stand there or are you going to cook for us… or… are we going out?”

“I think we’ll go to a tavern,” she said. “There’s too many to cook for at this late hour.”

“Just as well,” said Sven. “I don’t think there’s enough beer here for a double celebration. Or is it a triple celebration?”

“Who cares?” said someone. “It’s a celebration whichever way you look at it.”

Tsai Ming whispered something in Sven’s ear.

“Tsai Ming would like to change into something more comfortable before we go out.”

“Alright. Make it quick, though—we’re all hungry.”

Tsai Ming and Serakh disappeared into the back of the shop and emerged a short while later in splendid female attire. A few whistles emanated from the crew.

“That’s enough of that,” chorused Sven and Rat, which brought on a reply of “Woo-hoos”.

As we walked into the tavern the sight of a diminutive but beautiful oriental woman clad in shimmering green silk turned just about every man and woman’s head in the place. She instinctively moved close to Sven, who draped an arm across her shoulder.

While we ate Ibn led the recounting of our travels in, around and across the Taklamakan and the Kingdom of Qocho, with the help of his diary. Like most young men their age, Pesakh and Rat were visibly upset on having missed out on so much high adventure. I had to remind him that he had caught a wife instead of desert sand in his nostrils, which pacified him a little.

The recounting of the story led to others in the tavern taking an unusually high interest in what was being said. As the night wore on, eavesdropping turned to blatant interest in proportion with the amount of beer being consumed. Eventually we found ourselves the centre of a fairly large crowd. The beer flowed as quickly as the story, and commentary on what was being told was not withheld. As with any story, there were those who didn’t believe a word of what was said. Unsurprisingly it was discovered that most of the doubters had never been beyond the boundaries of Hardzy-Tarkhan. Nevertheless they stayed for the duration of the tale.

Now that we were in closer proximity to the Black Scorpion headquarters I had tried to scan the crowd that night for anyone who may give the slightest indication of being a Scorpion. I noticed that Kalas was also doing the same. Despite my efforts I did not identify anyone who showed signs of being one.

When we left the tavern that night, we left with many looks of admiration and the tavern keeper did not charge us for our meal, saying that never before had he had such good business and could we come again tomorrow. I told him that tomorrow we would be gone, on our way to Kyiv.

Once outside, I called Kalas over. “Did you pick up anyone who had the telltale signs of being a Scorpion?”

“No. But news of our storytelling will undoubtedly spread. If a smart Black Scorpion should hear of it he would not take long to come to the obvious conclusions.”

“Unfortunately true. Oh well, we’ll just have to keep our wits about us.”

A few of the more inebriated crew had linked arms and were marching down the centre of the street singing an old Viking song.

He smiled and said, “With this lot?”

I smiled and said, “I know, I know.”

That night we slept the sleep of the dead.

Chapter 35Leaving the Past Behind

Towards sunset of the next day Sven and I made to leave the others in the now empty and somewhat drab and moribund book shop. The vacant shop seemed to have adopted an air of melancholy. We felt it safer for the crew to lie low until it was time to move, so only Sven and I went out on the search for water transport out of Hardzhy-Tarkhan. I closed the door and we walked past the row of silversmiths, who were closing shop for the day. The pungent smell of their labours were still lingering as we moved on towards the Bolshie Izady.

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!

Lesen Sie weiter in der vollständigen Ausgabe!