dróttin: the leader of a war band
færing: literally meaning ‘four-oaring’. A small open boat with two pairs of oars and sometimes also a sail.
Fáfnir: ‘Embracer’, a dragon that guards a great treasure hoard
Fenrir Wolf: the mighty wolf that will be freed at Ragnarök and swallow Óðin
Fimbulvetr: ‘Terrible Winter’, heralding the beginning of Ragnarök
forskarlar: the waterfall spirits
galdr: a chant or spell, usually recited rather than sung
Garm: the greatest of dogs, who will howl at the final cataclysm of Ragnarök
Gjallarhorn: the horn which Heimdall sounds to mark the beginning of Ragnarök
Gleipnir: the fetter which binds the wolf Fenrir
godi: an office denoting social and sacral prominence; a chieftain and/or priest
Gungnir: the mighty rune-carved spear owned by Óðin
hacksilver: the cut-up pieces of silver coins, arm rings, and jewellery
Hangaguð: the Hanged God. A name for Óðin.
haugbui: a living corpse. A mound dweller, the dead body living on within its tomb.
haugr: a burial mound
Haust Blót: autumn sacrifice
hei: ‘hello’
Helheim: a place far to the north where the evil dead dwell
hersir: a warlord who owes allegiance to a jarl or king
Hildisvíni: the ‘battle boar’ on which Freyja rides
hirðmen: the retinue of warriors that follow a king, jarl or chieftain
hólmgang: a duel to settle disputes
hrafnasueltir: raven-starver (coward)
Hugin and Munin: ‘Thought’ and ‘Memory’, Óðin’s ravens
huglausi: a coward
húskarlar: household warriors
Ívaldi [sons of]: a group of dwarfs who created treasures for the gods
jarl: title of the most prominent men below the kings
Jól feast: winter solstice festival
Jörmungand/Midgard Serpent: the serpent that encircles the world grasping its own tail. When it lets go the world will end.
Jötunheim: (giant-home) the realm of the giants
karl: a freeman; a landowner
karvi: a ship usually equipped with 13 to 16 pairs of oars
kaupang: marketplace
knörr: a cargo ship; wider, deeper and shorter than a longship
kyrtill: a long tunic or gown
lendermen: managers of the king’s estates. Nobles.
merkismaðr: standard-bearer in a war band
Midgard: the place where men live (the world)
Mímir’s Well: the well of wisdom at which Óðin sacrificed an eye in return for a drink
Mjöllnir: the magic hammer of Thór
mormor: mother’s mother
mundr: bride-price
naust: a boathouse, usually with one side against the sea and a ramp down to the water
nestbaggin: knapsack
Nídhögg: the serpent that gnaws at the root of Yggdrasil
Niðstang: ‘curse-pole’, a pole inscribed with a curse, mounted with a horse’s head turned ceremoniously towards the intended recipient of the curse
Niflheim: the cold, dark, misty world of the dead, ruled by the goddess Hel
nithing: a wretch; a coward; a person without honour
Norns – Urd, Verdandi and Skuld: the three spinners who determine the fates of men
Ragnarök: doom of the gods
Ratatosk: the squirrel that conveys messages between the eagle at the top of Yggdrasil and Nídhögg at its roots
rauði: bog iron ore, related to rauðr meaning red
rôst: the distance travelled between two rest-stops, about a mile
Sæhrímnir: a boar that is cooked and consumed every night in Valhöll
scían: an Irish fighting long knife
scramasax: a large knife with a single-edged blade
seiðr: sorcery, magic, often associated with Óðin or Freyja
seiðr-kona: a seiðr-wife. A practitioner of witchcraft.
Sessrymnir: the dwelling place of the goddess Freyja
skál: ‘cheers!’
skald: a poet, often in the service of jarls or kings
Skíthblathnir: the magical ship of the god Frey
skjaldborg: shieldwall
skjaldhus: shield house (term most probably invented by the author)
skyr: a cultured dairy product with the consistency of strained yogurt
Sleipnir: the eight-legged grey horse of Óðin
snekke: a small longship used in warfare comprising at least twenty rowing benches
svinfylkja: ‘swine-array’, a wedge-shaped battle formation
tafl: a strategy board game played on a chequered or latticed board
taufr: witchcraft
thegn: retainer; a member of a king or jarl’s retinue
thrall: a serf or unfree servant
ting: assembly/meeting place where disputes are solved and political decisions made
utiseta: sitting out for wisdom. An ancient practice of divining knowledge
Valhöll: Óðin’s hall of the slain
Valkyries: choosers of the slain
Varðlokur: the repetitive, rhythmic, soothing chant to induce a trance-like state
völva: a shamanic seeress; a practitioner of magic divination and prophecy
wergild: ‘man-price’, the amount of compensation paid by a person committing an offence to the injured party or, in case of death, to his family
wyrd: fate or personal destiny
Yggdrasil: the tree of life
THE NORSE GODS
Æsir, the gods; often those gods associated with war, death and power
Baldr, the beautiful; son of Óðin
Dísir, ‘goddesses’; a group of supernatural female figures linked with fertility
Frey, god of fertility, marriage, and growing things
Freyja, goddess of sex, love and magic
Frigg, wife of Óðin
Heimdall, the watchman of the gods
Hel, both the goddess of the underworld and the place of the dead, specifically those who perish of sickness or old age
Loki, the mischief-monger, Father of Lies
Njörd, Lord of the Sea and god of wind and flame
Óðin, the Allfather; lord of the Æsir, god of warriors and war, wisdom and poetry
Rán, Mother of the Waves
Skadi, a goddess associated with skiing, archery and the hunting of game. Mother of Freyja.
Thór, son of Óðin; slayer of giants and god of thunder
Týr, Lord of Battle
Ull, lord of the hunt, associated with archery, skating and skiing
Váli, Óðin’s son, birthed for the sole purpose of killing Höðr as revenge for Höðr’s accidental murder of his half-brother Baldr
Vanir, fertility gods, including Njörd, Frey and Freyja, who live in Vanaheim
Vidar, god of vengeance who will survive Ragnarök and avenge his father Óðin by killing Fenrir
Völund, god of the forge and of experience
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Before I got my first publishing deal for the ‘Raven’ saga I was living in New York with my then soulmate and best friend, Sally. This was 2006. I had written one novel, which nobody wanted, and to get over that disappointment I wrote Raven: Blood Eye. When it was finished I started working on a futuristic thriller to stay busy while I searched for a literary agent who would represent me and, I hoped, find a home for Blood Eye with a good publisher. It would be hard to overstate how much I wanted a publishing deal. I was, truth be told, desperate. I would wander round my local bookshop, McNally Robinson (now McNally Jackson) on Prince Street in the bustling, creatively charged neighbourhood of Nolita, lower Manhattan, imagining how I’d feel when (not if) my book wa
s on the shelves there. Rather embarrassingly, I was even tempted to tell staff members that I was going to be a published writer, so there. You’ll be pleased to know I resisted that terrible urge. And while I’m feeling confessional, another dubious pastime included coercing a designer friend to mock up book covers for my stories, which I’d then print out and wrap round Bernard Cornwell novels, just so I knew what it would feel like to hold my own book. Sad and creepy, or a powerful visualization exercise? I’ll leave that to you to decide.
With every heartbreaking rejection letter received – and there were many – I sent off another submission and in doing so kept the hope alive, while Sally reassured and strengthened me. She never doubted (I married her of course) and, in all honesty, neither did I. Back in 1995 I had been interviewed as part of a BBC documentary and had said that my ambition was to be a writer. I was in a pop group at the time, so perhaps should have been concentrating on that, but even back then I knew what I really wanted.
Why am I reminiscing about this now, all these years later? Well, Wings of the Storm is my ninth published novel and my last Viking foray, for a while at least. And as I work on my tenth book, heading in a slightly new direction, it also seems a good time to look back to the beginning. I have a feeling it is important and healthy to try to recall, to ‘feel’ again that fierce need to be published. To remember the times I sat wide-eyed in McNally Robinson listening to guest authors – real, published authors – and hanging on their every word as though they had found the grail, the elixir vitae, and Harald Hardrada’s battle banner, Land Waster. Theirs was an exclusive club and I wanted in. I was clawing at the door.
Eventually the offer of a contract came via my agent Bill Hamilton. By this time I would have signed it in my own blood. Raven: Blood Eye was published in 2009 and I’ve been working pretty hard, and loving it, ever since. But nothing is certain in publishing. If I write a book that doesn’t sell, because there’s no enthusiasm in the market for it, or else it’s just terrible, it is reasonable to assume my publisher might not renew my contract. Publishing is a business and no business can afford to make bad investments. This industry doesn’t owe me a living and I have no right to expect any new manuscript I come up with to be edited, copy edited, proofread, printed and bound, publicized and marketed, distributed, sold and bought. It is a privilege. An outrageous honour. It’s a thrill every time I hold one of my books for the first time.
Here in this note then, it’s my great pleasure to thank my publishers – Larry, Bill, indeed the whole of ‘team’ Transworld (there are too many names to mention here, but they know who they are!) – for introducing my stories to the world and for continuing to believe that I have tales that are worth the telling. It is because of Transworld that I get to spend my life writing stories and sharing them with you, kind and loyal reader. What a wonderful and extraordinary thing. I wonder what that desperate young man who wandered the aisles of McNally Robinson would think if he knew he’d be sitting here writing these lines ten years later. I suspect he had already seen it in his mind’s eye. Even if he had no right to. But what’s an imagination for if not to conjure that which should be impossible?
As for us, here and now, let’s keep believing in new stories and wonderful adventures. Let’s journey on together to see what we can find. We still have far to go, you and I.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Family history (he is half Norwegian) inspired Giles Kristian to write his first historical novels: the acclaimed and bestselling ‘Raven’ Viking trilogy. A long-held fascination with the English Civil War then led him to chart the fortunes of a family divided by that brutal conflict in the novels The Bleeding Land and Brothers’ Fury, before co-writing Wilbur Smith’s No.1 bestseller, Golden Lion.
In his recent novels – God of Vengeance (a Times ‘Book of the Year’), Winter’s Fire and now Wings of the Storm – he returned to the Viking world to tell the thrilling story of the rise of Sigurd Haraldarson and his celebrated fictional fellowship.
Giles Kristian lives in Leicestershire. To find out more, visit www.gileskristian.com
/GilesKristian
@GilesKristian
ALSO BY GILES KRISTIAN
The Raven Novels
Raven: Blood Eye
Sons of Thunder
Óðin’s Wolves
The Bleeding Land
The Bleeding Land
Brothers’ Fury
The Rise of Sigurd
God of Vengeance
Winter’s Fire
For more information on Giles Kristian and his books, see his website at www.gileskristian.com
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First published in Great Britain in 2016 by Bantam Press
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Copyright © Giles Kristian 2016
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Cover illustration by Bob Venables
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Giles Kristian has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
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Version 1.0 Epub ISBN 9781473510425
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