At First Light(Dr. Evan Wilding #1)(28)

He wrote out:

2 thus from my bothy I came, homeland’s ward for cattle of riding

3 to sacrifice the innocent at night. She takes back her sons and daughters

4 who rived and tholed and peeled her flesh like ripe fruit

9 blessing giver my blood-feud stillbirths/still births your further crimes

“Yes,” he said after a few minutes. “Definitely the word blessing. A blessing giver. Not to mention a suggestion of punishment extracted for the commission of a terrible crime. Perhaps with the idea of preventing—or possibly committing—additional crimes. Impossible to know at this point. There is also a line about sacrificing the innocent.”

“What kind of terrible crime are we talking about?”

“Something that involves riving and tholing and peeling, apparently. Which, in modern English, boils down to committing torture.”

She frowned at him. “Blessing seems an odd word to leave at a murder scene.”

“Depends on how knowledgeable our killer is. Our modern English word blessing derives from the Old English bletsian, which referred to an altar sacrifice. It means to mark something holy through the spilling of blood. The word bletsian appears in the runes from Talfour’s body. So clearly it’s a theme.”

Her emotions hovered between excitement and distress. “You think the killer is practicing human sacrifice?”

“I think it’s a definite maybe.”

“The problem with you academic types is you lack a sense of commitment.”

“Cops, on the other hand, want to commit everyone.”

“Ha ha. What about line numbers?”

“If my theory is right about the numbering and that we’re dealing with a poem, we now have lines two, three, four, and nine of the poem the killer left with Desser.”

Addie mulled over the idea of sacrifice as a motive for murder. In her experience, most killings occurred because of some form of dispute. Over territory. As part of a larger rivalry. Often some asshat’s belief that he wasn’t getting enough respect. Sometimes even a man’s dispute with his wife’s cooking, although it was never really about the meatloaf.

But murder as sacrifice? Uncommon. Rarer, even, than serial killers. And human sacrifice as a punishment for both the guilty and the innocent, as the poem seemed to suggest?

Madness. A particularly evil form of madness.

She touched the brakes and executed a perfect rolling stop at an intersection before speeding through. “Who is the killer sacrificing to?”

“I need more information.”

“Live dangerously, Evan.”

“You want me to guess?” He rubbed his chin. “I suppose we could be looking at a Viking blót. And don’t—”

“Clarify.”

“—ask me to clarify. The word burbled up from some ancient memory. I’m not a Viking expert.”

“You just told me you’re a quick study. Ramp up, my friend.”

He tapped in his phone, scrolled through what she assumed was a website. After a moment, he nodded and murmured, “Uh-huh.”

She smacked the steering wheel and shot him a glare. “What?”

“Vikings, just like so many of us, wanted to be on good terms with their gods. A blót sacrifice, apparently, could go a long way toward ensuring one’s continued good standing. The sacrifice was generally conducted as an exchange. I’ll give you this goat if you’ll give me a good tailwind for my next voyage. Or I’ll donate this golden chalice in your name if you’ll have my back while I pillage and burn the monastery and murder all the monks serving that newfangled monotheistic Christian god.”

“Sounds a bit harsh.”

“Those were harsh times. According to this Scandinavian historical website, humans and animals alike were sacrificed to Odin.”

“Odin. He’s a god, right?”

“The supreme being among the Viking pantheon. God of war and the dead. And interestingly, the god most associated with the runic script. His thirst for wisdom led him to allow himself to be speared in the side and hung upside down from a tree in order to be granted the knowledge of the runes. He also gave up an eye in exchange for this knowledge.”

“Like Talfour.”

“I very much doubt Talfour gave up anything willingly. But yes. There are parallels.”

“This all sounds promising. A modern-day Viking trying to return, for whatever demented reason, to the old ways. And maybe the she in the poem refers to a goddess.”

“Perhaps. Or a female spirit of some kind.”

“But why Talfour and Desser? Why these two men?”

“If Desser is, in fact, Jewish, there could be a racial or ethnic aspect.” He told her what Diana had shared with him about the ásatrú and Viking reenactors and a possible racist element.

Addie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “So we’ve got some nutcase murdering men he believes inferior, and doing it in the name of the Viking gods?”

“The ?sir. The Viking pantheon.”

“Yeah? Make a note in my phone. This guy thinks he’s a modern-day Viking come to restore the world to its former white-skinned glory.”

“Possibly.” Evan picked up her phone and dutifully typed the information in a note-taking app. “But I’m far from convinced. You’re talking about what is commonly known as a missionary killer—someone who wishes to exterminate a certain group of people.”