“Let me give you an idea of the threat I believe we’re facing and you’ll understand why I’m here. Have you ever heard of Krakatoa?” Ariana asked.
Dane nodded. “A big volcano in the south-west Pacific that exploded in the 1800s?”
“May 20th, 1883,” Ariana said. “The island, which is located in Indonesia, had been exhibiting signs of activity for several years. It lay along the meeting of the Eurasian and Pacific plates, right on the Pacific Rim.
“On that last day, it finally erupted. At 10:02 in the morning local time, the top literally blew off the volcano. It was the largest explosion in recorded history. The biggest atomic or hydrogen bomb we’ve tested doesn’t even compare.
“The blasts knocked down walls over two hundred kilometers away. The explosion was heard on Rodriguez Island, over four thousand six hundred kilometers from Krakatoa, a thirteenth of the world’s circumference.
“The resulting waves were over forty meters high. They devastated shorelines thousands of miles from Krakatoa. Over a hundred and sixty-five villages were destroyed and thirty-six thousand people killed. Since the island itself was uninhabited, most of these deaths were the result of the tsunami.
“Before the eruption, the island had been nine kilometers long by five wide. After the explosion, only a third of the island was still left above water.
“Ash fell on Singapore eight hundred kilometers to the north. When the ash reached high altitude, winds circled the Earth, producing such vivid red sunsets that fire trucks were called out in New York City. It blocked out to the sun to the point where global temperatures fell by over a degree in the year following the eruption and took five years to get back to normal. And that was just one volcano. Think of dozens, hundreds of eruptions like that.”
“What’s the worst case scenario?” Dane asked.
“Worst case? If the Shadow knows how to use those nukes we gave them- which they just indicated they do- and knows exactly where to place them- which I hope they’re still working on- they can split this planet wide open. Which means the end of every living thing on the planet.”
Chapter 8
The trip down the east coast of England had been uneventful. No English boat cast off to challenge them and the few fishing ships they saw quickly got out of the way when they spotted the large sail and the distinctive shape of the Viking longship. Ragnarok didn’t find that unusual. For over two hundred years, since the raid on the monastery at Lindisfarne in 793 AD, the English people had learned to fear the longships that ravaged their coast. Even one Viking ship, sailing alone, was enough to raise fear along the east coast and cause the people to hide behind their castle walls.
Eight years previously, in 991, Ragnarok’s ship had been one of ninety-three in Olaf Tryggvason’s fleet which conducted an extended raid of the lands they were now passing. They defeated the Saxons in battle and extracted a handsome ransom of 10,000 pounds of silver. Three years later, in 994, Ragnarok sailed with King Svein Forkbeard all the way up the Thames to London, where another large ransom, this time of 16,000 pounds of silver was handed over by the Saxons.
After that raid, though, Ragnarok had had enough of working for someone else. The ransoms were rich indeed, but the amount that trickled down to the ship captains that made up those large fleets made it hardly worth the time or risk. The following year, Ragnarok began sailing on his own and waging trade not war. He found a lucrative business plying between Greenland, Iceland and Scandinavia with a few essential goods. Not that he wasn’t averse to taking down a ship or isolated village if the opportunity presented itself.
Ragnarok was opportunistic and meeting Tam Nok had fueled his interest. However, Ragnarok knew little more than he had two days ago when he had first met the strange woman. She kept to herself, a difficult task on such a small ship with a crew of thirty men crowded on board. But the fact that the crew viewed her as a Disir, a holy woman, helped considerably. There was also Ragnarok’s glower if any of the men came too close to the woman.
The men were happy that they had earned more than enough for the season from Tam Nok’ gold and jewels. Ragnarok knew there were some who would not even want to make the originally planned trading trip to Iceland after they parted ways with Tam Nok. They viewed running into the Disir as a mixed blessing. Duartr had been killed, his body not given a proper burial, left for the Valkyries to feast on. And Thorlak had been taken away into the darkness- and he had been a popular shipmate. On the other side of the sword blade, they had already earned more money than they had expected for the season.
The stakes were raised a little higher early in the morning when Tam Nok made the announcement that England was too general a destination. She needed to be escorted to a certain point- in middle of the Salisbury Plain, over thirty miles inland from the south coast of the island, due north from the Isle of Wight.
Being on the sea was one thing, but a Viking warrior on land, far from his boat, was like a fish kept out of water too long. Tam Nok had solved Ragnarok’s hesitation with another leather purse of gold.
In addition to the pending land journey, that act made Ragnarok’s uneasy. About half of his crew were old hands, men he had known for years. But the others, 16 of the 30, were men who had signed on for the first time this spring. Recruited from villages along the coast, they were outcasts simply for the fact they were willing to leave their clans and villages behind.
The first bag of gold hand been like the scent of meat to a hungry dog. The second was blood on the snow, a trail leading them to want to slake their hunger even more. Still, Vikings respected their Gods and their women and Ragnarok hoped those dual loyalties would keep the crew in check.
His crew, like him, were mostly men without homes. For various reasons they all had no place to go other than the ship. For some it was a case of being outlawed and banished. For others, feuds in their home villages had made staying impossible. A few, like Hrolf, Bjarni and Askell, were from the same village as Ragnarok and when he left, they went with him out of loyalty.
Ragnarok planned to return home one day and claim what was rightfully his, but he knew that he needed more power in order to do that. Revenge burned in his heart, a simmering heat that he lit only to aid his battle-lust and tried to avoid at all other times. Betrayal and treachery had cost him everything he held dear other than his ship and his close companions and he planned to repay that treachery threefold. It was a topic he rarely spoke about, not even with those who knew what had happened to his family, but it had molded him into the leader he was, one who believed loyalty was the paramount virtue of a warrior.
The sun was low over the land off their starboard bow, but Ragnarok planned on sailing through the night. He had let Bjarni-the-Farsighted sleep during the day and the experienced helmsman would take them through the sand bars off the southeast corner of England and past the white cliffs. Although they had only sailed through the English Channel four times before, Ragnarok trusted Bjarni to be able to do it, even in the dark. The man had an incredible memory- if he’d sailed someplace only once, he remembered it as if it were a daily route.
There was more danger in the channel, as the Saxon pigs were better organized the further south one went. There was even a king in London who claimed much of the island as his own. The king’s ships might not be as fearful of a lone Viking wolf prowling through their waters. Another reason to continue on through the night.