MAGDALENE-SKJALDMAER

DISCLAIMER

Magdalene - Skjaldmaer is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents were developed based on the author’s imagination or are used in a purely fictitious manner in this work. Any semblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2019 by Charley Blackwolf. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. eBook 978-1-54399-415-5

MAGDALENE - SKJALDMAER

BRIEF

Written on a Viking rune stone found on the O’Higgins farm outside Dublin Ireland: Skjaldmaer with every morning’s sun I search for you, my heart cries out for you, I cannot be complete until I find you.

In this day of social media and dating apps with all of its electronics and instant access to information through the internet there are occasionally relationships formed between men and women of different backgrounds and educations that defies any sort of reasonable explanation. Much like the mysteries surrounding the ancient monuments at Stonehenge, Puma Punku, Machu Picchu, Tiwanaku and Chaco Canyon, they come about with little apparent reason or justification. There are no real explanations, no science behind what happens…they just suddenly materialize. No one really knows why. Cosmic energy from the stars perhaps? In thinking such thoughts, you might ask, How can two people fall in love when they’ve never physically touched each other? How can that even be possible? Then, you might think, Perhaps such encounters are preordained astrologically, or by God himself. Are these events just random or are they meant to happen as part of a greater plan for humankind? If so, why do they occur or why do they not occur?

A mystery to be sure and one that brings up the question: are such things predictable? Can the casting of dice, Viking runes of old, how tea leaves fall, shaking of bones, the wisdom of a mystic or the pattern on a hand, the draw of a Tarot card…can it be forecast who will be chosen for some special journey in their lives? And you may wonder if in your lifetime will you be one of those chosen to walk this path of preordained destiny, or indeed if you are on such a path now? For it is the seemingly simple things in life, the birth of a child, premature death of a nation’s leader, an illness, outcome of a game, a missed turn in a road, a treasure found or the brilliance of a single individual that can set in motion the outcome for future generations for thousands of years. Consider the question: how would the world look today if Francisco Pizarro had died at an early age, or if the Viking Rollo had never been born?

Perhaps the state of technology is involved in how history evolves or how that perfect love is found. Consider the horse and its influence for in the wonderful world of animals, the horse is predominating in its interface with humans. This magnificent creature has served man in all capacity with its heart and soul. They have plowed fields, moved wagons, and carried him or her in countless wars. No matter the location, the horse has always been involved in the development and progress of humankind.

Horses come in all sizes, many shapes and colors, some of good disposition, some not so good, but they have always been a part of human history. They date back to before the Trojan War and the ruins of Troy, to the Mongol invasion by Genghis Khan, the raiding Vikings of Europe and the Comanche warriors hunting buffalo on the American plains.

There are many modern day sports involving horses: running, jumping, dressage, the Paso Fino of Puerto Rico, the sled pulling of New England, jousting tournaments in the castles of Wales, endurance runs across the Rocky Mountains, and many others, including the fascinating sport of horse archery in which a rider, at full gallop with bow and arrow, engages a series of targets. Magdalene and her Icelandic pony Baldur are champions of the sport. A true warrior, she has trained from early age in the Viking Martial Arts known as Glima. Magdalene is also master of jiu-jitsu and Viking sword fighting.

Travis ‘Spotted Wolf ‘O’Higgins a journalist for a popular motorcycle magazine and author, is one of those who, while surfing Facebook, came across a posting made by Magdalene. Of Viking-Irish and Comanche heritage, Travis grew up a cowboy working cattle on Northern Arizona ranches, and he knew about horses. He had also been a part time archer and bow hunter so when he found a picture posted on Facebook of an alluring blond lady astride a horse with arrow nocked and bow drawn back, he instantly felt he wanted to know more about her.

Contents

CHAPTER 1

BALDUR, ARCHERY & RODEOS

CHAPTER 2

GUSTAW & MORNING FLAME

CHAPTER 3

DANCE OF THE SCORPIONS

CHAPTER 4

ACE OF SWORDS

CHAPTER 5

THE LOVERS

CHAPTER 6

CHAMPIONSHIPS

CHAPTER 7

PALO DURO CANYON

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER 1

BALDUR, ARCHERY & RODEOS

Roskilde Denmark, January, 2006 - Early morning

The towering man shook snow from his coat, walked in, and slammed the door. It was colder than normal, and his foul mood was evident from his clenched facial expression. Magdalene, He yelled, Where are you? Come here, I need to talk to you!

From behind a curtain covered door, a blond head with deep grey-green eyes and flowing locks slowly appeared, and in an apprehensive voice replied, What, Papa, I’m here.

In a tone of exasperated frustration, the man replied, Magdalene, how many times have I told you to make sure you close the barn door? All the horses were in the barn again, eating the hay!

But, Papa, stammered the young girl, I did, honest. I made sure the pin was in place to hold the latch closed. Honest, I did.

Suddenly from behind the same door stepped a larger version of the young girl. A woman of strength and shocking beauty with long blond hair dangling below her waist quietly said. Hendrik, what is the problem? Why are you yelling at Magdalene?

The man paused and then replied, Emma, she left the barn door open again and all the horses got in and were eating the hay. It’s expensive and we have to make it last until the winter is over. It’s the third time Emma. I don’t know what to do. She has to make sure the door is closed and locked when she leaves. She was the last one there last night, fooling around with that silly little white horse she likes so much, so it had to be her.

Magdalene, stammered, No Papa, I locked it, I know I did…

Emma put her arm around Magdalene’s shoulders and said, Its okay, I’m sure there is an explanation.

Hendrik finished taking his coat off and shook his head, mumbling, Stupid horses, I should have never allowed you to have them. Your father and his love for archery are to blame. It’s Viking to shoot arrows off of a horse, he said, it’s in our blood to love horses and archery

Emma smiled, You know Hendrik she is getting quite good. My father would be proud of her. She is very much a Viking - she handles the bow and the horses well. Have you watched her run down the track with Baldur at full gallop shooting the targets? Even the winter snow doesn’t bother them.

Hendrik sighed, sat down on the couch and said, I know, I know. Maybe it will payoff in her gaining entry to some fancy school or something. Do we have any coffee?

It was quite in the corrals the next evening and in the distance the sun spread golden rays across the snow-laden pasture lands as it began its slow dip below the horizon. Bordering the pastures were Hendrik’s fields of winter wheat that laid waiting for spring to come and alongside was the Old Danish style country house with a thatched roof and white stucco walls where they made their home. Nearby, painted brightly red, was a modern barn of steel and stone where farm equipment was kept and the horses had stalls to provide refuge from the cold winter nights.

His white coat ablaze in the shimmering sunset the little Icelandic pony raised his nose, pointed his ears and began to lean his shoulder into the barn door. Slowly he began to push on the door then rock back on his hind hooves and then push again.

A clever little horse, he was named Baldur after the Norse god of light, joy, purity and summer sun. And like his namesake he was a cheerful and handsome animal that always seemed to bring forth a sense of happiness to those around him. He also knew not to sneak into the barn too early as someone was sure to come by and chase him, and the other horses, who would stand by and wait for him to get the door open, out of the barn. So he had learned to wait until nightfall, then they could get in the barn and eat all night.

Slowly he rocked back and forth, then quicker to make the pin bounce in the latch. Suddenly it jumped up and he quickly pushed his nose under it, missed, then went back to rocking against the door, shoulder, back hooves, shoulder, back hooves, again the pin bounced and again he missed picking it up with his nose. Back to pushing the door, the pin jumped this time and he caught it just on the edge of his lip and quickly flipped it out of its latch. One more push on the door and the feast of hay bales lay before them all.

Then, as the other horses quickly crowded behind him in a rush for the door, he heard Hendrik’s voice, You little rascal, I knew you had something to do with this!

See Papa, I told you it wasn’t me. Spoke Magdalene from the shadows where they had both watched the little Icelandic pony’s ability to open doors in amazement.

Hearing Magdalene’s voice, Baldur quickly moved to the fence and as if seeking forgiveness for his trespass, pushed his nose against her hand.

Hendrik smiled, as only a father who loves a daughter can smile, I know, Magdalene, I know. I’ll put a pad lock on the door. That will keep him out.

Magdalene scratched Baldur on the forehead smiling, You got me in a lot of trouble, Baldur, it’s a good thing I love you.

Later that evening as Hendrik was telling Emma about how clever the little Icelandic pony had been in opening the barn door, she laughed and replied, Well, I guess that’s what we get for buying one of Egill’s horses. Everyone in Iceland knows he raises the craftiest horses

Hendrik sighed, Almost wish I’d never heard of him. All the trouble that silly little horse causes, he’s too smart for his own good, that one.

Emma nodded, True he is a trouble maker, but he’s also easy to train because he is so smart, and Magdalene loves him immensely. By the way, do you know what happened to Egill’s son Jokull? He wasn’t at the farm the last time we visited and I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was. Hopefully he is okay.

Hendrik replied, Oh, he is fine. Egill told me he and his mother were in the United States. Florida I believe. Neither of them like the Icelandic winters and he’s attending a military school there. He says he wants to be a United States Marine one day.

Emma nodded, Oh, that’s nice. Then she closed the book she had been reading, switched off her desk lamp and said, I’m tired Hendrik I going to check on Magdalene and go to bed.

Hendrik stood, said Yes, I agree it’s well past our bedtime. Then as he started moving toward their bedroom he shook his head and smiled, Baldur...Baldur, what a horse. It is truly amazing the things a father will do to make his eleven-year-old daughter happy. Fly to Reykjavik in the winter, go to a farm and buy the smartest horse they have, have it shipped to Denmark so it can drive you crazy escaping from the pasture and getting into the barn. What was I thinking?

Emma overheard his mumbling and from her sitting position on the bed smiled, You’re a good father Hendrik, I’m sure God will reward you in the end. And by the way don’t forget that Magdalene also has some of your mother in her too.

Hendrik laughed, Oh my yes, Nadia, the Soviet Night Witch. Can’t forget Mother. Slayer of Nazis she was. Remarkable woman I can’t imagine doing what she did. Leave her home country, sign up with the Soviet Air Force and fly rickety old planes on nighttime bombing runs into Germany.

Well she did attend university in Moscow Hendrik. She knew most of the women she flew with when they were young girls growing up. It was through that association she became a pilot. A time when women were not supposed to be pilots. To this day she regards Amelia Earhart as the most influential person that ever lived. She’s getting up in age and her health isn’t the best. We need to visit her. How’s the restaurant doing?

Restaurant is doing great. She loves Stockholm. Of course she doesn’t get around quite like she did in the past. Yes, I agree, we need to take Magdalene to see her. Mother loves her immensely and I’m sure she will be impressed with her successes He stopped for a moment then asked, Are you teaching tomorrow?

Emma sighed, Yes, my class on Viking runes and old Norse history.

My, Emma you don’t sound that enthusiastic.

Actually it’s a great class; it’s just that it starts early. Seven in the morning and with the snow I have to leave here around five, so it makes for a short night. She paused, leaned over, took a brown brush from her night table and began brushing her hair.

Hendrik sat down on the bed, watched her for a moment and said, You’re so lovely when you do that. Then he bent forward, playfully nibbled at her ear and whispered, It might be really short.

She laughed, Stop, I have to get up early.

Hendrik leaned back and smiled, Okay, so tell me professor do you have any promising students?

"Yes, I do. One young man in particular, an Englishman from Liverpool by the name of Bryan O’Hara. He is quite remarkable in his ability to