Coffee Pot Book Club: Son of Anger.

Ulf is like a storm, slowly building up its power, he grows more dangerous with each passing moment. And like all storms, he will eventually break. When he does, he will destroy everything in his path.

Ulf is one of a long line of famous Norse warriors. His ancestor Tyr was no ordinary man, but the Norse God of War. Ulf, however, knows nothing about being a warrior.

Everything changes when a stranger arrives on Ulf’s small farm in Vikenfjord. The only family he’s ever known are slaughtered and the one reminder of his father is stolen — Ulf’s father’s sword, Ormstunga. Ulf’s destiny is decided.

Are the gods punishing him? All Ulf knows is that he has to avenge his family. He sets off on an adventure that will take him across oceans, into the eye of danger, on a quest to reclaim his family’s honour.

The gods are roused. One warrior can answer to them.The Son of Anger.


The sun was sitting high in the sky when they reached a small clearing in the forest. After a few weeks of living in the stuffy hut, the air in the forest felt fresher than before. Ulf breathed in the rich forest aroma of damp ground and green leaves, feeling his anger being calmed, as if Freya had placed a soothing hand on his head. Even the sounds seem louder, he thought as he heard the birds singing in the trees. There were twigs snapping in the distance, a constant reminder they were not alone in this old forest.

“Let’s rest here,” Ulf said. He was tired and the pain in his side was making it difficult to carry on. His mood was in contrast to the sunny weather as he sat down and tried to figure out what to do. He didn’t have much of a plan, didn’t even know where to go. There was Thorgilsstad, but his uncle had always told him to stay away from there. But Ulf didn’t know of any other jarls. 

Vidar, on the other hand, was smiling. Ulf guessed Vidar felt free, but he didn’t understand why Vidar had waited so long to kill the old man. 

“Why now?” he asked Vidar. 

Vidar looked at him, confused at first, but then he understood the question. He replied by pointing at Ulf. 

“You waited for me?” This made no sense. How did Vidar know that he would be there?

Vidar shrugged and then nodded. A yes and no answer. 

“How did you know that I would not kill you instead? Thralls who kill their owners must be killed themselves. Those are the rules of our land.” 

Vidar only smiled and shrugged.

Somehow, he knew. Ulf felt a bit uneasy and it was not because of the pain. It felt like there was more to this silent boy with his large hands. Before Ulf could say anything else, he saw Vidar scanning the trees at the other side of the clearing. The smile disappeared from Vidar’s face, replaced by a snarl that reminded Ulf of a dog.

 “What is it?” Ulf asked, realizing the birds had gone quiet. He got back to his feet and took Olaf’s axe from his belt. 

In response to his question, a man jumped out of the undergrowth. Ulf pushed Vidar behind him and held the axe ready, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. The man had a long hunting spear, which he now pointed at Ulf and Vidar. He looked as surprised to see them as they were to see him. 

“Who are you?” he asked. He had a strong voice which spoke of confidence.

“Nobody important,” Ulf replied. “Who are you?”

 The man smiled at the response. He was the same height as Ulf, but sturdier. He had a round face with light hair, braided and tied at the back. His beard, the same colour as his hair, also had a thick braid and went to the top of his chest. Ulf could tell by the many arm-rings he wore and his bunched-up shoulder muscles that the man was an experienced warrior.

“My name is Snorri Thorgilsson,” he said with a broad smile as he stood up straight and stopped pointing the spear at them. He must have decided they were no threat.

“Thorgilsson? As in Jarl Thorgils?” Ulf should have guessed he was someone important by the quality of the clothes he was wearing. 

“Yes, I am the son of the jarl. You mean to kill me.” He was smiling at the thought. Even Ulf doubted he could kill the warrior, especially with his side still hurting. 

Vidar started pulling at Ulf’s sleeve, but Ulf ignored him. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the man facing them. Again, Vidar tugged at Ulf’s sleeve, more persistently this time. 

“What?” Ulf turned to look at Vidar but kept an eye on the warrior in front of them.

Vidar pointed to the trees as a large brown bear walked into the clearing, behind the man who called himself Snorri. But Snorri hadn’t noticed the bear and must have thought Vidar was pointing at him.

“What does he want?” Snorri asked Ulf as the bear crept closer. Ulf had never seen a bear as large as this one. 

“Behind you,” Ulf answered and was shocked to see Snorri laugh.

“Those are my men, nothing to worry about.”

“There are no men behind you.”

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Donovan Cook

Donovan Cook was born in South Africa but raised in England, and currently works as an English tutor. He is the author of the Ormstunga Saga, which includes his debut novel Son of Anger and the follow up, Raid of the Wolves. His novels come from his fascination with the Viking world and Norse Mythology and he hopes that you will enjoy exploring this world as much as he did writing about it. 

When Donovan is not teaching or writing, he can be found reading, watching rugby, or working on DIY projects. Being born in South Africa, he is a massive Springboks fan and rarely misses a match.

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