Chronicle Me Viking

By Lynnette Roman

For the sake of prophecy the Viking King, Alakurth, spills his war into the city of Lezar. He is looking for someone, a child of royal blood who is different than the rest. An heir to the throne whose blood can open the sealed doors of the passage that leads to his one chance to rule the world. Finally, the unheard of is brought before him, a black Viking named Tondalaya, and he quickly discovers his search is over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynnette Roman
• Release date: Nov 28, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386883579

Book preview

C H R O N I C L E

ME

V I K I N G

Copyright Information

Copyright © 2021 Lynnette Roman

Cover Art by Graphiz Designs

All rights reserved.

First Edition: January 2021

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons,

living or dead, is purely coincidental. The authors hold exclusive rights to this work.

Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. If you would like to share

this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of the authors.

Contents

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Prologue

PERHAPS I SHOULD NOT have been able to remember it. I was so young when it happened. Only four years old. But I see it as clearly in my head as if it happened just yesterday: my father stabbing my mother to death in their bed. Then the silver glint of moonlight on a raised battle-ax was washed in bright red as it swiped across my father's throat, taking his head. I could still recall the crimson geyser shooting upward from the stump of his neck. The sound of his body as it thudded to the floor like a wet splash.

The Viking was speckled in my father's blood, completely nude as my mother had been, massive, and draped in taut muscular coils from head to ankle. At first, he didn't see me. My father had hidden me well in the corner of our large hut behind a stack of bamboo sticks before charging in on them. A part of me wonders if the Viking had seen me right then if things might have turned out differently for me. I'll never know.

He dropped his battle-ax beside my father's headless body and tenderly lifted my mother out of the bed, petting her braided head, sobbing bitterly on her neck. He rocked her from side to side, telling her bloodied corpse how sorry he was, and kissed her breathless lips.

The Viking laid my mother back down on the bed and covered her with the quilts, petting her head once again before putting his clothes on. He lifted his battle-ax off the ground and shoved the bloodied weapon in his back holster, then climbed out the window.

I came out of hiding. My eyes were blinded by tears as I slowly approached the blood-drenched massacre. My young, heartbroken cries were unavoidable. But it was because of them that the Viking returned.

Tondalaya, his deep throaty voice startled me, making my arms lift from my sides and brace against the air. I looked up to find the strong man peering at me through the window. His face was cast in shadows from the swaying of the bamboo trees dancing in the moonlight outside our hut. His deep blue eyes released residual tears as his gaze fell on me.

Tondalaya, he called again, softer this time. Come here, child.

I shook my head and ran through the hut and out the door, but he caught me before