Warriors of the Storm (The Saxon Stories #9)

by Bernard Cornwell

“You do know what happens at Easter!” Ceolnoth demanded sternly. “Of course I know,” I said, “we make babies.” “That is the most ridiculous . . .” Ceolberht began to protest, then went silent when his brother glared at him. “It’s my favorite feast,” I continued happily. “Easter is baby-making day!”

“Why is it called Easter?” I demanded. “Because our Lord died and was resurrected in the east, of course,” Ceolnoth answered. “Horse shit,” I said, “it’s called Easter because it’s Eostre’s feast, and you know it.” “It is not . . .” Ceolberht began indignantly. “Eostre!” I overrode him. “Goddess of the spring! Goddess of baby making! You Christians stole both her name and her feast!”

A humble god! You might as well have a toothless wolf! The gods are the gods, ruling thunder and commanding storms, they are the lords of night and day, of fire and ice, the givers of disaster and of triumph.

I have often suspected that Loki, the trickster god, invented Christianity because it has his wicked stench all over it. I can imagine the gods sitting in Asgard one night, all of them bored and probably drunk, and Loki amuses them with a typical piece of his nonsense. “Let’s invent a carpenter,” he suggests, “and tell the fools that he was the son of the only god, that he died and came back to life, that he cured blindness with lumps of clay, and that he walked on water!” Who would believe that nonsense? But the trouble with Loki is that he always takes his jests too far.

A man does not rid his home of a plague of wasps by swatting them one by one, but by finding the nest and burning it.

“Peace and quiet,” Sigtryggr said. “And a good pair of tits will persuade most men to change their religion.”

An archbishop is important to the Christians, he knows more sorcery than ordinary priests, even more than the bishops, and he has more authority.