... Let delve into this book in order to
gain wisdom and fun.
We must not forget these stories, or
call them lies.
Snorri Sturluson, "language poetry"
Two brothers and hiding Face
Autumn sea with a roar shook the granite rocks. Wind
He would pick up the spray and carried inland, over the gorge
fjords, over the stone passes, past the snow caps
vertices. Even eagles nest on inaccessible cliffs, with
hardly could see far into the sea small fishing
The storm broke a long-mast, sail and tore dragged somewhere
in low clouds. Two sailors at first tried rowing but
heavy waves snatched from the hands of the oars, and ran out of power
quickly - in fact the oldest of the rowers barely passed ten winters, and
younger and even less - eight. It was Agnar and Geyrrёd,
Hraudunga sons, one of the most famous leaders
Nordic. The storm carried off their boat from the native shore
away. Brothers barely had time to bail cold water
lashed across the board.
- Hold on, Geyrrёd! - I shouted the elder brother younger. -
We're the Vikings! Smoky pockets and warm bed - it's not for
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