Valhalla Virus by Nick Harrow (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

“I know,” Gunnar said. “And I will. I promise.”

Even as he said the words, Gunnar knew he should’ve kept his mouth shut. Taunting fate with a promise like that had led to disaster far too often for him. He heard his father’s laughter in the back of his thoughts and did his best to ignore it.

Everything would work out.

It had to.

Chapter 25

GUNNAR EXPECTED TO find the streets clogged with jötnar as he and the völva marched north to rescue Bridget. If he was in Hyrrokkin’s shoes, the jarl would have marshaled his forces to assault the lodge and assert his rulership over the fallen city of Las Vegas. Barring that, he would have dispatched troops to blockade the roads leading to the site of his next ritual.

Instead, the streets were empty. Fires burned atop towering structures in the distance, and thick plumes of black smoke rose into the air to choke the sun. The cold winds that had blown through the city had died, as if the ruins were holding their breath in anticipation of the coming battle between the jarl and Hyrrokkin’s forces.

“You know he has her,” Ray said as they crossed under an elevated highway that had transformed into a strange stone bridge supported by massive log pilings. “There’s no one else it could be.”

Gunnar hadn’t wanted to think about that, but he also knew the völva was right. Arthur had Bridget. It made a sick sense. The wheel of destiny had completed its spin, and now the circle was complete. Five years after Arthur had tried to steal the bodyguard’s life, Gunnar was coming to extinguish his.

“I know,” he agreed. “I know.”

There was nothing else to say after that. Gunnar didn’t dwell on the past, but Arthur’s betrayal had scarred him. He didn’t fear the man, but it would have been a lie to say their coming confrontation didn’t bother the jarl. To beat his nemesis, Gunnar would have to pull out all the stops. There could be no mercy, no second-guessing. This fight was about redemption as much as victory.

Gunnar wanted it so bad he could taste it.

The jötunn sanctuary was visible from a distance. Putrid green smoke leaked from fiery braziers atop pillars at its corners. The smoke reeked of rotten meat and sulfur, a choking scent that curdled Gunnar’s stomach. The cries of jötnar drifted on the wind, and Gungnir throbbed with the need to destroy the foul creatures.

“Soon,” Gunnar promised the spear. “Soon.”

The jarl and the völva took to the shadows when they were a few blocks away from their target and scrambled up the side of a log building to peer over its peaked roof at their enemies. A pair of jötnar stood outside the gates of the fortress, heavy black swords clutched in their gnarled fists, hand axes hanging off their belts. Their horns were impressive hooks jutting from their foreheads, as shiny as polished obsidian. Each of the creatures was at least as tall as Gunnar and outweighed him by a solid hundred pounds.

“I need your eyes,” he said to Mimi.

“My vision is yours, Jarl,” the völva responded, her voice stilted and ceremonial. “Use it as you will.”

The Valknut throbbed in Gunnar’s socket, and a warm golden glow spilled out from the darkness of his skull. He closed his good eye and peered at the work of his enemy. His vision penetrated the fortress and revealed dozens of outlines that cavorted around fires, feasted on scorched meat, or fucked on the ground. These creatures held nothing back, they felt no shame or guilt about anything they did. To the jötnar, life was best lived in pursuit of wild instincts. Satisfying their hedonistic urges was all that mattered.

Disgusted by his enemies, Gunnar searched for the reason they’d come. Strange clouds drifted across his vision and made it hard to find Bridget. It was like trying to watch a scrambled cable channel, and it took him far longer to locate her than he’d hoped.

They had her tucked away in a building butted up against the northwest corner of the wall. Gunnar’s enhanced sight didn’t show him more than the outlines of the structure, but what he saw gave him hope. There was no way to fight through all those jötnar to reach Bridget.

But he wouldn’t have to.

“She’s in there,” Gunnar said. “Along with a hundred or more jötnar. Most of them are gathered in the center courtyard. They’re not looking for a fight, but it won’t take them long to join the battle once it kicks off.”

“I could shoot them from here,” Ray suggested. “Take out the guards with my bow to attract their attention. When the others come out of the fortress, I’ll take them out. When they get close, use your spear and blow them all to hell.”

There was merit in the völva’s plan, but there was one serious flaw in it. “I don’t think we can do that,” Gunnar said. “In my vision, Bridget warned me we only had until noon to stop the ritual. That’s only a half hour from now. If Arthur’s in there, he’s smart enough to keep his people close until their little shindig wraps up. We could kill a few of them, but the rest will stay to guard Bridget. We have to get her out of there before it’s over.”

“We can’t just kick down the gate and start hacking,” Mimi said. “There’s not enough time to kill them all.”

“There’s another way,” Gunnar said. He drew a square on the sod roof’s surface. “The gate is here, at the bottom of the square. Bridget is back here, near the fence. We go over the top of the palisade, sneak inside, grab Bridget, then fight our way out. I’m sure they have Draupnir here, and they’re planning to sacrifice it to open a bridge. If I get my hands on that, the blood rune will even the odds in a big hurry.”

Gunnar pulled the