Helruna: An Anglo-Norse Tale of Terror.

© 2022 Bruce J. Mitchell. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  01/04/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4770-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4768-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-4769-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021925650

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views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue

in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

CONTENTS

Prologue

PART I

THE AWAKENING

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

PART II

LIGHT FROM THE DARKNESS

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

MORTHPAETH, NORTHUMBRIA, 580 A.D.

Dreda pulled her cape up over her shoulders and shivered. The wind was picking up as she sat in the small clearing, listening to the crackling fire she had just made for herself. She had managed to slip out while her sister slept, and avoided waking up her parents or stirring the horses as she rushed past the stables. It was hard to see where she was going on a moonless night, but she knew the path by heart. Throughout her childhood, she and her sister would follow the same path to play in the clearing, gathering flowers for their hair, or pieces of wood that their brother, Deogal, would carve into dolls for them. Sometimes he would carve the smaller pieces into flat rounds for a new taefl set. They all loved playing taefl on cold and rainy days after they had finished their chores inside. Her favorite was sitting around the fire on long summer nights, listening to the scop tell his tales while playing the harp. And the tales he told them...that’s what had brought her here tonight, waiting for the witching hour, wasn’t it? The story of Ceolfrith, and how he was murdered by an eoten, right here, on the clearing near the road going north. That’s how the hamlet got its name, Morthpaeth, the road of murder. The story used to scare her as a young girl, but she was a young woman now, soon to be married. On October 12th she would turn eighteen, and by November 1st, she would be Lufian’s wife. Then it would be too late. She would never be able to do the ritual. He would not allow it, if she even dared speak of it to him. She had to do it now, tonight. The position of the moon was perfect. This was her last chance.

Her elder sister, Elswyth, had tried to talk her out of performing the ritual, but she could not resist the draw of the spell. Everything she needed was ready. The skull taken from the burial grounds, her runes, a piece of wood with the short incantation carved into it. Now she just had to get her courage up to start the incantation. As she rehearsed the words of the spell in her mind, she could not shut out her sister Elswyth’s voice. You’re not ready for this yet! You won’t be able to control the spirit of Ceolfrith, even if you do manage to summon him from hell. He could possess you, or even worse, kill you. You don’t know what you’re getting into! Dreda tried to focus on her incantation, but her mind kept drifting, shaking her resolve to go through with summoning the spirit of Ceolfrith. As young girls, both she and Elswyth would often play with Wilda from the neighboring farm, right here in the clearing. Her mother, Kendra, was a seeress, and she took both Dreda and Elswyth under her wing. Dreda’s own mother was a very pious woman, and never failed to perform the ritual sacrifices to Woden and Thunor for protection and a plentiful crop. But she was also a practical woman, as was her father, Eboric. They were too busy with the cattle and the crops to bother with divination, necromancy, and invocation. It was not that they did not believe, but her mother just did not have the time for such pursuits, and her father thought the practice of soothsaying was unmanly. They had nothing against their daughters’ learning these arts from a seeress, though, and they seemed to respect Kendra. Sometimes Dreda thought they feared Kendra’s powers, and what she might do to the whole family if they told their daughters to stay away from her. Either way, she and her sister were often excused from their chores in the afternoon to go see Kendra and learn her arts before nightfall. The road going home was much too dangerous for her and her sister to travel after dark.

Yet here she was, in the clearing, on her own, in the middle of the night, preparing to summon a spirit from hell. She had always been an intrepid pupil, and Kendra would have to hold her back from doing something rash, without the necessary tools and preparation. This time she was sure, though, despite what Elswyth said. There had always been a little competition between her and her sister. Elswyth was more cautious, hanging on Kendra’s every word, never performing a ritual until she had seen Kendra do it at least a hundred times. Dreda was more intuitive, relying on her feelings and impulses to guide her. Both Kendra and Elswyth knew she had talent, and could produce some very powerful incantations at a very young age. Her rash behavior made her dangerous, though, and more than once Kendra had to tell her not come back for a fortnight as punishment for a reckless ritual. If you’re not careful when summoning a spirit, you can get more than you’ve bargained for when he comes through, Kendra would always remind her. But nothing had ever happened, and Dreda took this as more of a warning than anything else.

Why was she mulling over the past now? She had to pull herself together and get started. Ceolfrith held the key to the eotenas. By evoking his spirit and using the skull to make him speak, he could reveal exactly what he knew about the eotenas, their powers, how to evoke them, and how to harness them for her own purposes. Ceolfrith had been a very powerful seer, but something went awry on the legendary path that night, and she needed to get to the bottom of it. The tales told by scops as they played their harp would sing of a dispute between Ceolfrith and the eotenas, of a violent death, and of a curse placed on Ceolfrith’s descendents. Nobody knew where Ceolfrith’s children might have gone after his death, or if he even had grandchildren or any other descendents. Nobody knew exactly when the violent struggle had occurred. Everything had been blurred by time and tales sung by the scops. But Kendra claimed to have a way to evoke the spirit of Ceolfrith and make him speak. Dreda begged the seeress to teach her the spell for several months, but only as her 18th birthday approached and she was promised in marriage to Lufian did Kendra agree to teach her the conjuration. She had reached an age of maturity and had become less impetuous, Kendra reasoned, but she still made Dreda promise not to use the spell to summon Ceolfrith just yet, and certainly not alone. But Dreda could not wait.

The time had come. Dreda began to utter the incantation carved on the piece of wood, slowly at first, but picking up a more intense, furious rhythm as the fire before her grew, and the wind became increasingly violent. She could feel droplets of sweat dripping from her brow as she rocked herself back and forth, her whole body quaking, moved by the force of her spell. Dreda sank deeper and deeper into her incantation, losing all sense of her surroundings, except for the warmth of the fire, and the strength of the wind. She could feel the flames inching towards her as they grew, and knew the time was near. She uttered the final words of her spell, and cast her runes into the flames as she clutched the skull. Suddenly, the flames died out, and the wind grew still. Exhausted from her incantation, Dreda sat motionless before the extinguished fire, and felt a sudden void. A chilling coolness seemed to invade her and she sensed that something had gone dreadfully wrong. Fatally wrong. Then she felt it, and screamed.

PART I

THE AWAKENING

CHAPTER 1

FAIRFIELD, CONNECTICUT

Bessie woke up to the sound of beach traffic in front of her house. She rolled over and looked at the time. 9:30...She was already late. In an hour and a half she and her brother, Bryant, were supposed to be meeting their friends at Jennings Beach for a volleyball match. A strong beach breeze blew open her curtains and she could see the marina below. A line of cars were already waiting at the parking entrance, and once the lot filled up, they would be parking in front of her house. She hated having all those cars right in front of her living room. Her parents never hesitated to call the police and have them ticketed, but it was a weekday and they were at work. Now that it was summer vacation, she and Bryant had the house to themselves. One last summer before they were off to college. Concordia University in Montreal! She could hardly wait…Je dois travailler mon français, she thought to herself with a slight grin. Had she known where she was going to college, she would have paid more attention in French class instead of cheating off her brother’s tests all the time.

Bess, are you ready yet? It’s time for breakfast! her brother shouted from the kitchen.

Hold on a minute. I’m still getting dressed, she yelled back.

She hadn’t even taken a shower yet, let alone get dressed. She had better hurry, she thought. After getting out of the shower, she sat down to do her hair. Long, brownish-red curls. She was very lucky. A lot of her friends were envious of her hair, her bright green eyes, and her swimmer’s body. Since middle school she never had problems winning over the boyfriend she wanted, and had made a few enemies along the way. Deep down there was a part of her that liked making her friends jealous, but she always tried to soothe their jealousy by playing modest and showering them with compliments, for the sake of friendship, if nothing else. Her mother had taught her good peace-making skills, and her father had the temperament of an able politician. Those were the traits that helped them get along with people in Manhattan’s corporate world, all the while asserting themselves. But she hated business, she thought to herself, and couldn’t wait to start studying history and education in the fall.

Your food is getting cold, Bess! It’s 10 o’clock already. We’ll be late! her brother shouted up again.

Coming!, she answered. She hurried to put her hair up and as she got up to go downstairs she heard a thump on the floor. Ugh! The brush and a bunch of pins had fallen on the floor. She kneeled down to pick them up, when a strong wind from the beach blew in and slammed her door shut. She jumped a bit, startled by the sound. It was nothing, just the wind. Why was she so skittish lately? She was just about to turn 18 and was too young to be getting so high strung. She needed to pull herself together and enjoy her last summer home before going to college with her brother. She walked downstairs and found her brother warming up her breakfast in the microwave for her. She could smell the eggs and toast, and the aroma of hazelnut coffee. Her favorite.

Well, it’s about time, sleeping beauty!, he said jokingly as he put her plate in front of her.

Bryant looked at his twin sister, and thought how lucky he was that they would be attending the same college in the fall. It was hard to imagine life without her. They had always shared groups of friends growing up, and he had even met all of his girlfriends through his sister. It was not as though he couldn’t have met them on his own, but he was so busy with swim meets, soccer, and all his schoolwork, that he just didn’t have a lot of time to socialize. It was easier to let her do his socializing for him, the way he often did her school work for her. She was bright enough to do it on her own, but she was too busy socializing. He was hoping she wouldn’t expect to cheat from him in college, though. The stakes were going to be a lot higher if they got caught. Anyway, they would be taking different courses. He would be studying archeology and anthropology. He would try not to take his core courses with her, just to make sure she was more independent.

What are you staring at, blondie? Did I screw up my hair?, said Bess jokingly, as she peered into her brother’s dark blue eyes.

No, Bess, you are as beautiful as ever, he teased. I am sure Roger is thinking about you every minute. Is that why your phone keeps buzzing non-stop?

Ugh! Roger! He just won’t go away! I knew it wasn’t going to work out. He’s way too controlling. I am going to have to change my number if this keeps up. I don’t want to spend my last summer home avoiding him. Maybe we can fix him up with your ex, Jennie. I am sick of listening to her ask me to help her get back together with you. But really, Bryant, are you all right? You seemed out of it, just staring into space…

Oh, I was thinking about next fall. You are going to have to start doing your own work and stop relying on me. If they catch you, both of us can get expelled.

No worries, big bro’ by fourteen minutes. I’ll get by on my own! If that’s all you’re worried about, lighten up. There’s fun to be had now that we’re on vacation. Next week we turn 18…

You don’t need to remind me. But I think I need to remind you that we only have another half an hour to get to the beach for our volleyball match!

Okay, okay, I’m eating. Just stop staring at me. You’ll make me choke, she answered with a grin.

The beach was overcrowded and noisy, as usual at the end of June, but Bessie and Bryant’s friends had managed to clear out an area large enough for their volleyball match. Bryant and his friends won, but Bessie and her team had put up a good fight until the end, keeping up the tension so nobody got bored. Now was time to lie out in the sun and get to know the new girl, Rowena.

Bessie, have you met Rowena yet? She just moved here with her mom a couple of weeks ago, explained Meghan.

No, I haven’t. Nice to meet you, Rowena! Are you sure you’ve never been to Fairfield before? You look so familiar. Just like my best friend, Norma.

Well, my parents brought me here a few months before the move so we could look at some houses, but other than that, no, I haven’t. Maybe I just have one of those all-American faces you see everywhere, she said, almost in a teasing way.

Déjà vu, I guess. It doesn’t really matter. Tell us about yourself! It’s not often we get a new girl in town right at the end of the school year, Bessie asked.

Well, there’s not a whole lot to tell. I was born and grew up in Salem, Massachusetts. I have no brothers or sisters, my parents adore me and give me everything I want...um, let’s see...I do gymnastics, love to go skinny dipping at the beach at night, and eat a lot of celery to keep my weight down!

Bessie laughed along with Meghan and Rowena. Well, that’s certainly given us a full picture of who you are! Sounds like we’ll be great friends, said Bessie.

Yeah, answered Rowena, I’m sure we will.

Okay, Rowena, interrupted Meghan, let’s go get something to drink. One of the things I love about this beach is the concession stand.

As the two girls walked away talking and giggling, Bessie lay down on her beach towel and sank into her own thoughts. Rowena seemed likeable enough, a redhead like she was, but with blue eyes and long, straight hair. Fun-loving, too...but something about her just rubbed Bessie the wrong way. Was it the disingenuous way she had said that she was an all-American girl, or the almost imperceptible sarcasm when she said that they would be friends? Hard to tell, maybe it was just her edginess lately. Graduation, her 18th birthday coming up, going away to college in the fall...She just wasn’t herself lately. Time to relax. Bessie closed her eyes to soak up the sun and relax. She felt her mind drifting as she fell asleep. She was in a meadow, frolicking in the sun as a young girl. Her brother was running ahead of her, then seemed to fall into the tall grass, laughing. She went over to find him, but he had grown silent. He wasn’t where she had seen him fall, and thought she must have made a mistake. She started to become frantic, looking all around her, then she started to cry in a state of panic, when she suddenly felt a light tap on her shoulder.

Oh my God!, shouted Bessie as she suddenly sat upright. Rowena’s face was staring down at her with a sly grin.

Sorry to scare you!, she said, I had no idea you were fast asleep. Here, we bought you something to drink and a sandwich. I hope you like tuna….

Yes, tuna is fine, thanks, she said groggily, as if she had just woken up from a long sleep.

As they were eating Bryant and his friend, Pat, came over and sat with them.

Hey, Rowena, said Bryant, we have to stop meeting like this. Twice in one day!

I know, she said, We only met last week and it seems like we see each other everywhere all of a sudden. It must be fate, she said with a playful smile.

What? said Bessie, You already know each other?

Yeah, replied her brother, we met at the graduation party last week. Didn’t I mention to you that I had met a new girl in town?

That’s right, she answered, you did. How silly of me…. She really did not remember this at all, but thought she had to say she did so as not to embarrass her brother. She could see from his face that he was falling for her, and then he was flirting with her non-stop. Well, he needed a date for their 18th birthday party next week, so why not Rowena? Bessie could not shake the feeling that there was something not quite right about the new girl in town and fought hard against a deep dislike well up inside of her.

CHAPTER 2

Achoo! Ugh! I hate dust!, exclaimed Bessie as she moved another crate of books in the attic. She and Bryant had to pack up what they weren’t taking with them to school and put it in the attic. Their mother in particular wanted them to go through old boxes from their childhood and start throwing some of them away. Bessie wasn’t sure why her mother suddenly felt she needed more space. Maybe it was the empty nester syndrome. Who could tell?

Hey, Bessie, look over here! shouted her brother, pointing towards an old crate.

Wow! It looks like something that came off the Mayflower. Check out that rusty old padlock on the front. How did we ever miss that when we would play up here as little kids? Do you think you can get it open?, she asked.

Let me give it a try. Bryant walked over to the toolbox on the shelf and grabbed a wrench. He slammed the padlock with the butt end of the wrench, and the old, rusty iron lock soon gave way. Well, that was easy!, he said with a mix of satisfaction and surprise.

Open it up! I’m curious to see what’s inside. Maybe there are some collector’s items or antiques we can use to decorate our dorm rooms up at school.

All right. Open sesame! Bryant said with a playful grin. As he looked at the contents, he saw stacks of old, leather bound notebooks, and some strange objects interspersed among them.

Well, that was a bust! he said. Just some old notebooks and nicknacks.

Don’t be so hasty, blondie! Let’s take a look and see what’s in the notebooks. I thought you were going to be an archeologist, digging up lost treasures! she said, winking at her brother playfully. Bessie took the first book on the pile and sneezed again as she brushed off the dust. This dust and the musty, old smell are killing me. This better be good! she said as she opened the notebook and looked at the first page. It was dated September 15th, 1635, and written in a clear, but fanciful cursive script.

Wow! Check this out! It’s from 1635. Isn’t that the year the Butterworths arrived in Massachusetts? asked Bessie.

Yeah, it is! Let me see that! Bryant answered with some excitement. "Wow is right! This looks like Samuel Butterworth’s journal. He sailed over on the James from Yorkshire, England, in the spring