Troll Blood

Troll Blood

Katherine Langrish

Language: English

Pages: 180

ISBN: 000721488X

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The boy twisted like a cat, there was a swirl of cloak and a rasping sound. Something flashed into the air - a long steel sword .... Peer and Hilde are thirsty for adventure, so when a Viking longship docks in their village, they decide to set sail for Vinland - a mysterious place far across the perilous sea. But are the ship's captain and his sword-wielding son really honest sailors? And will Peer and Hilde ever return? The third thrilling book in the Troll Fell saga.

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His thick cloak, was hoisting Ralf’s big chair closer to the fire. Astrid tossed her head. “Anyway, you needn’t feel sorry for me. I’m married, and I’m making the best of it. After all, Gunnar’s a famous man. You’ll never marry anyone half so well known. He treats me well, too. He’s never once struck me. The men say he’s as tough as Tyr, who put his hand in the wolf’s mouth. But he needs me. He has fevers, and sometimes he tries to stay awake because of bad dreams. And he hates being alone in.

Ground shudders to the impact of huge feet running away. Before his father can forbid it, Kwimu dashes to the door of the wigwam, Skusji’j at his heels. He peels back the hide flap and scurries out into the bitter night. Around him the peace ful village is waking in alarm. Men stumble from the doorways of the nearest wigwams. Sleepy voices call out to ask what is happening. The treetops are dark against a sky hazy with moon-glimmer. A few hundred yards to the southeast, something crashes away.

Grin. “And in the other watch there’s Arnë—” “We both know Arnë,” Hilde interrupted. “And young Harald Silkenhair and Big Tjorvi,” Magnus finished. He frowned at his hands and bent down gnarled fingers, muttering, “Six, seven … that’s eight of us, counting the skipper, who’s in charge but who don’t do much hauling and rowing anymore. See?” “It makes ten of us,” Hilde corrected him, “counting Astrid and me.” “Women don’t count,” said a deep voice. A man ducked under the edge of the sail and.

Was a boy, he heard two jenu calling to each other from two blue mountaintops. ‘Cold heart crying to cold heart,’ he told me. A dreadful, lonely sound. They are drawn to each other, and yet they hate each other. If two jenu meet, they will fight till one eats the other up.” “They eat each other?” asks the Little Weasel. “A jenu eats anything,” Kiunik says as he sits up, frowning. “See what you’ve brought on us—you and your people.” “That’s not fair,” says Kwimu hotly. “It wasn’t his fault that.

Bitterness that no one looked surprised. Then what had Peer been fighting for? Gunnar was repeating the curse: “A cold wife and a cold bed. Well, that part’s wrong, isn’t it? So what’s the rest of it worth now? Nothing!” He beckoned, sawing his short arm through the air in an excited gesture. “Where’s Harald? Here, Harald. Stand with me.” Harald pushed to the front. His face was white as linen, but Gunnar seemed not to notice. He flung his maimed arm around Harald’s neck, linking his wife and.

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