Valor of Cappen Varra

Poul Anderson

Description

After establishing a name for himself in the classic science fiction canon, author Poul Anderson tried his hand at historical fantasy. One of his indelible creations in the genre is the character of Cappen Varra. In this tale, the amusing scamp finds himself stranded in an inhospitable land and must rely on his wits to escape alive.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 mai 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776536412
• Langue: English

Extrait

THE VALOR OF CAPPEN VARRA
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POUL ANDERSON
 
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The Valor of Cappen Varra First published in 1957 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-641-2 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-642-9 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
The Valor of Cappen Varra
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We have said that there are many and strange shadows, memories surviving from dim pasts, in this FANTASTIC UNIVERSE of ours. Poul Anderson turns to a legend from the Northern countries, countries where even today the pagan past seems only like yesterday, and tells the story of Cappen Varra, who came to Norren a long, long time ago.
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"Let little Cappen go," they shouted. "Maybe he can sing the trolls to sleep—"
The wind came from the north with sleet on its back. Raw shudderinggusts whipped the sea till the ship lurched and men felt drivenspindrift stinging their faces. Beyond the rail there was winter night,a moving blackness where the waves rushed and clamored; straining intothe great dark, men sensed only the bitter salt of sea-scud, the nettleof sleet and the lash of wind.
Cappen lost his footing as the ship heaved beneath him, his hands wereyanked from the icy rail and he went stumbling to the deck. The bilgewater was new coldness on his drenched clothes. He struggled back to hisfeet, leaning on a rower's bench and wishing miserably that his quakingstomach had more to lose. But he had already chucked his share ofstockfish and hardtack, to the laughter of Svearek's men, when the galestarted.
Numb fingers groped anxiously for the harp on his back. It still seemedintact in its leather case. He didn't care about the sodden wadmalbreeks and tunic that hung around his skin. The sooner they rotted offhim, the better. The thought of the silks and linens of Croy was a sighin him.
Why had he come to Norren?