For fifteen years, Amleth trained. He learned to fight blindfolded, to endure whippings without crying out, to run barefoot over burning coals. The berserkers called him Úlfhéðinn —Wolf-Coated—because he would howl before battle and bite through shields.
She touched his face. "Then finish it."
"Any last words?" Amleth asked.
He cut Fjölnir’s head off—slowly, as Fjölnir had done to his father. He held the head up by the hair and howled. The howl echoed off the fjord and was answered by a real wolf in the mountains. But revenge is never clean.
He killed them all. Every last one. But Olga had been stabbed in the fight. She lay bleeding into the black sand. The Northman -2022- Filmyfly.Com 2021
"There is no old for me," Amleth said. "Only this."
"They are his," Amleth spat. "That is enough." Olga helped him. She had become a kitchen slave, and she poisoned Fjölnir’s dogs so they would not bark. She stole a key to the weapon chest. She whispered lies to the other slaves to turn them against Fjölnir’s housecarls. For fifteen years, Amleth trained
When he was twenty-five winters old, a trader came to the camp with news. Fjölnir the Brotherless had been overthrown himself—not by justice, but by a rival king from the south. Fjölnir had fled to Iceland, of all places, a frozen wasteland at the edge of the world. He now called himself a farmer. He had taken Gudrún as his wife and fathered new sons.
When the slavers tried to rape her, Amleth broke his thumb to slip his manacle, then killed three men with a broken jar. He did it silently, efficiently, like a fox in a henhouse. Olga watched without flinching. She touched his face
"Now I know what you are," she said. "A ghost."
"Yes."