Under A Winter Sun Johan Dahlgren (digital e reader .txt) 📖

We reach the back door of the monastery, and Hildr pulls a heavy ring of iron keys from a pocket.

“You have the keys to the temple?”

“I am mistress of the house. I have all the keys.”

How convenient.

She unlocks the door, and we sneak inside.

The execution party is about fifty metres out when I close the door.

We're in what looks like a kitchen. A wide table for preparing food dominates the space and wooden cupboards line the walls. Something falls over behind the cupboards, and I point my rifle at it. There is nothing there.

“This way,” Hildr says and heads for a door across the room.

She cracks it open and peers inside. “Come on.”

I follow her into a long corridor with half a dozen doors on either side.

The lighting is muted, and the place smells of incense. Heavy crimson curtains adorn the walls and there's a thick green carpet on the floor. Soft lute music streams from speakers hidden in the walls. Apart from the music, there is no sound. The place reminds me of an upscale brothel. Typical of Finn to find a brothel even in his father's backyard.

“Nice place.” I didn't know the Goliaths enjoyed comfortable surroundings.

“Only the best is good enough for the Breeders,” Hildr replies as we move down the corridor.

A door swings open and a Goliath steps out. He carries an assault rifle at the ready. The commotion at the hall must have alerted the monastery guards.

“Who's there?” he barks when he spots us.

“It's me, your queen.” Hildr walks up to the guard with a sexy swagger in her step. He recognises her, opens his mouth to say something, then he notices me, and his eyes widen with alarm. His rifle rises and Hildr punches him in the face. He goes down and stays down.

“Impressive,” I note.

“What? Because I'm a woman?” She takes the rifle from the unconscious man.

“No, because you knocked him out with one punch. Impressive.”

“They don't call me The Red on account of my hair.”

She points to a door, more intricately carved than the rest. “He's in this one.”

“If you say so.” I cast a worried glance at the gate at the end of the corridor. The death squad will be here any second now. I hope she knows what she's doing.

She unlocks the heavy wooden door, hauls it open and steps inside. I follow her, and as I shut the door behind me the outside gate opens. Shit. They're here.

The room we've entered is sparsely lit, circular, and spacious. The ceiling disappears into the darkness high above. In the gloom, I can make out wooden rafters. Everything is lit in soft candlelight and the room is filled with sheer pink cloth, hanging from the ceiling in sheets. The lute music is louder in here. Thick satin pillows, stacked in piles cover the polished wooden floor. Someone has sat in them recently. Or done other things. Unmistakable noises come from behind the curtains at the chamber's centre.

Someone is getting lucky while the world burns.

I swipe the curtains aside, and there he is.

Thorfinn Wagner, my best friend and the legitimate heir to the Throne of Shields, is busy making baby Goliaths. He's grown soft around the edges, but it's clear he's kept in reasonable shape in the Breeder Grounds. His long blond hair is tied into a stylish ponytail and his pale beard has been combed soft. There's a dark-haired, naked Goliath woman standing on all fours on the pillows in front of him. Playing on an enormous screen on the wall is a feed of two very naked, very male, and very excited Goliath warriors wrestling.

The woman beneath Finn spots me in one of the many mirrors adorning the walls. “What the fuck?” she screams. Or something to that effect. I can't understand her words, but I take that to be their general meaning.

“Finn, we've got to go,” I call and grab Finn's shoulder.

Finn disentangles himself from the woman on the pillows, gets up and turns around to tower naked over us.

“Woah, sheathe your sword soldier.” I raise my hands to cover the sight. Some things not even best friends should share.

Wagner roars something in his native tongue and raises an enormous fist to smite me. Spittle flies from his lips and sticks in his bushy beard.

I hold up my hands, showing I'm unarmed. “It's me. Perez. We've got to go. Now. Eirik has killed your father, and he's sent people to kill you.”

Finn blinks, unable to take in what's going on. You could never accuse him of being overly bright.

“Perez? What are you doing here?”

“Long story, no time. You've grown fat, my friend. I hope you can still fight. Get dressed.”

I throw a bundle of clothes at him, hoping it's his. He stares dumbly at me and the clothes bounce off his barrel-like chest and fall in a pile on the floor.

The naked woman gets swearing to her feet and grabs a long silk gown from the floor to cover herself. “The Jarl will have your head for disturbing the sacred act,” she screams at me in broken English.

“Your Jarl doesn't mind since he's busy being dead. People are coming to kill you. Get out.” I turn to Wagner. “Get dressed.”

The concubine notices Hildr and she bows to her lady. She says something apologetic in Norse and heads for the door, clutching the gown to her chest.

Before she reaches it, the door bursts open and two Goliaths storm in, brandishing huge assault rifles. They see the concubine come at them and open fire.

The large calibre rounds tear the woman to pieces and blood splatters everywhere.

The world slows down to the familiar crawl of Meridian's enhanced frame of reference. Before the Worldburner has the full use of my body, I dive at Wagner's knees to get him out of harm's way. The concubine's death bought us precious tenths of a second, and I bring Finn down just as the bullets that would have ended his life tear