Viking Shocks


Viking Shocks


Viking Shocks

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The next morning we were up early. The sun had just cleared the horizon when Thorfast and I stepped from the hold, eager to stretch our legs. We left the rest of the men behind in the ship’s hold; they slept on blankets spread over the deck for a bit longer.

There was no need to wake them before setting sail. It was good that there was little wind. Otherwise, the waves would be too much for us. “I think it will be all right,” Thorfast said as he led me toward the bow. “It is only a small storm.”

“Do you really believe this?” I asked him as I looked around at the clouds roiling above us. They were low enough to make me worry about rocks. And if one of those big boulders rolled down upon us … Well, then I might have a different opinion. But I did not voice my concern out loud.

Thorfast shrugged his shoulders but nodded anyway. “Let’s hope so,” he answered.

We climbed the steep stairs to the stern where the steering oar rested. A single mast rose high overhead, its sail hanging limp in the windless air. The sea lay like a vast sheet of dark glass beneath us. With luck, it wouldn’t get any worse than this. Then again, we could also face an even deadlier storm later.

“What are these strange markings along the hull?” I asked the first mate. He was standing beside me, staring at the marks painted on the wood. “Are they runes? Are they magic spells to help protect the ship from storms?”

He shook his head. “They’re not runes or anything magical. These are warnings, mostly. Pirates. Mostly pirates mark their ships with such things.” His gaze shifted back to the sky. “There should be more pirates out here than anywhere else,” he continued. “This area is rich in gold and silver mines. And other precious gems, too.”

A sudden gust whipped through the air, causing the rain to come down harder than ever before. As we watched the whitecaps formed atop the water. Then another gust came, followed by another. Soon the waves grew higher still, cresting over twenty feet tall.

My stomach turned over as the prow dipped into the troughs between the waves. The wind howled like some angry beast, and I knew what it wanted to do: rip us apart.

As I peered ahead I saw something bobbing in the distance. Something large and round-headed, like a whale or perhaps a giant turtle. Yet it wasn’t moving away from us, which meant it must be coming closer. When I squinted my eyes, trying to focus in the darkness, I thought I made out the shape of two heads rising above the waterline.

No doubt those were the heads of sharks. If that was true, then they’d already seen us, and they intended to sink our ship.

Yet as the ship drew nearer, we saw that there were four of them. Four huge creatures, each larger than a man. Their mouths gaped open, revealing rows of serrated teeth. One of the beasts swam directly toward us. Its mouth opened wider, exposing even more rows of fangs.

That was enough to convince me that we needed to leave. That was enough to convince me that this ship was doomed.

“Get ready!” I shouted. “Steer toward the island! We’ll try to beach ourselves on the shore!”

But as the ship drew close, I realized why it was doing nothing of the sort. This vessel was a pirate ship, and pirates don’t care whether their ship runs aground or floats safely ashore. So long as they can capture and plunder the wealth of others, it makes no difference to them.

And so, instead of heading to safety, we watched helplessly as the ship sank beneath the surface, taking most of its cargo with it. Even the pirates who jumped overboard survived. Some landed safely on the rocky shore, while others splashed into the shallows and drowned.

One of them managed to cling to the hull, though, and he held on tightly. “Don’t let go!” Thorfast yelled as he ran forward to grab his leg. Others helped pull the man aboard, and he was dragged across the deck and onto the deck, unconscious and barely breathing.

“Why didn’t anyone throw him overboard?” I wondered aloud.

“Because he’s the captain of this ship,” Thorfast said, shaking his head. “So it would look bad if we threw him overboard. And besides …” He pointed at the ship’s bow where the figurehead stared at us from its place of honor. It was a woman with hair braided with flowers and a golden crown resting upon her head.

She wore a cloak decorated with a red cross. In her hand she gripped a spear tipped with a sharp blade. “If we killed the captain, we might be cursed for killing a queen.”

I had no idea if that was true, but it sounded plausible enough.

The only thing left now was to find shelter until nightfall. To keep our spirits up, we sang songs. Most were ballads from my homeland. Those were the best ones. But we also sang songs about King Magnus. Many of the crewmen seemed surprised when I began singing, and one of them even started singing right along with me.

It was then that I noticed something strange. There were fewer men on board than I remembered.

At least half of them were missing. Where did they go? What happened to them?

When we stopped singing, I went below decks and searched every corner, but all the doors remained closed and locked.

Thorfast joined me, and together we explored the ship, searching for any sign of life. We found a few corpses lying around, some with broken limbs and gaping wounds. A couple of them had been eaten alive. The smell was terrible, and I could see flies buzzing around them, drawn by the putrid flesh.

We also discovered three chests filled with jewels and coins. I guessed they belonged to the pirates because it wouldn’t make sense for the crew to steal from their own masters. After all, they were likely being paid to do just that.

“They must have died during the battle,” Thorfast said.

I nodded. “Perhaps we should bury them.”

He shook his head. “No. Not here. They deserve better than that.”

As we continued exploring, we found a secret compartment hidden under the floorboards near the stern. The door was small, but I had to use both hands to force it open. Inside, we found a narrow staircase leading downward.

“What is this place?” I asked, holding back a foul odor.

“A cellar. Or rather … an underground passage. From what I understand, pirates often hid treasure down here. These people knew how to build ships well, and they were good sailors too. Maybe that was why they became pirates. They wanted to sail the seas, explore new places, and discover treasures.”

“You think we’ll find something valuable down here?” I asked.

“Anything is possible, I suppose.”

In truth, I wasn’t sure. The passages in the other ships I’d seen had always led nowhere. Yet the way they built the ship suggested otherwise. Perhaps there was a hidden chamber somewhere.

There was no time like the present, so we descended into the darkness, following the faint light of lanterns hanging above us. At first, we followed the tunnel’s natural course. Then it curved sharply upward, forcing us to climb ladders and crawl through tight spaces. Finally, we came to another door.

This time, there were two guards standing outside, swords at their sides. Their eyes widened when they saw us, but neither moved to attack. Instead, they raised their weapons, ready to defend themselves.

“Who are you?” One of them called out.

“Just travelers looking for food and shelter,” I said.

Their faces fell, and they lowered their blades. “Come inside.”

Inside, we entered a large room lit by dozens of candles. The walls were covered with maps showing the locations of islands, towns, cities, and rivers. In the center, several men stood talking while others busied themselves with tasks ranging from cooking to cleaning. Everyone looked up as we entered, and many of them gasped or winced in disgust at the sight of us.

But then, one of the men stepped forward, revealing himself to be the same man who had spoken earlier. His name was Askelus, and he was the leader of this group of pirates. He bowed his head politely and gestured toward a table laden with food and drink.

“Please sit and eat. You can rest here tonight. Tomorrow, we will sail south. If we run across anything of value, perhaps we’ll give it to you before we leave.”

After sharing a meal with him and the men he led, we agreed to stay. For now, we would continue sailing southward. With luck, we might stumble upon a ship that was still carrying cargo and thus worth plundering.

As for Askelus, he invited me to join his crew. It was not easy for me to say yes, mostly because I felt responsible for those men’s deaths aboard the Völsung. I couldn’t imagine taking orders from a pirate captain. But the alternative was worse because if we didn’t catch a ship soon, we’d starve to death. And I wasn’t sure we could survive long without sustenance. So we took the job.

For a week, we sailed the southern waters of Iceland and Ireland. Each day, we returned to land to search for potential targets, and each night, we ate, drank, and made love beside our bunks. Once, I awoke to hear someone screaming, but it turned out to be nothing more than the wind blowing against the hull.

It seemed the gods favored us.

On the morning of our fifth day at sea, we spotted a merchant ship offshore. She was traveling north along the Irish coast, making her way back home after delivering goods to England. Her sails were furled, and she was drifting slowly on the water, heading straight for us.

“That looks like a prize,” Thorfast said, pointing toward the ship. “Let’s go capture her.”

We ran back to the deck, where the crew scrambled to prepare ourselves. I grabbed my sword and shield. As did Thorfast. We pulled on our mail shirts, tightened our helmets, and strapped on our shields. When we finished, we joined the rowers in the boat, which was already rowing away.

The merchant ship was larger than any we’d encountered until then. Her masts rose high above our heads, and her rigging was heavy with ropes. Like all merchant ships, she carried a few soldiers aboard to protect her. They wore armor made of thick steel plates, and they wielded spears and swords.

I watched them carefully as we approached. If we attacked too soon, we’d lose. Too late, and we’d miss the opportunity altogether.

Finally, we arrived. A dozen men boarded our ship, surrounding us. I drew my sword and held it defensively. No doubt they intended to kill us, but we would fight just the same.

One of the soldiers reached for Thorfast. My friend parried the blow easily, but another soldier rushed in behind him. He thrust his spear at Thorfast’s belly.

Thorfast caught it with his shield, deflecting it harmlessly aside. The soldier yanked the spear free, throwing it down the side of the ship. Without slowing, he lunged at Thorfast again, trying to stab him in the throat.

Again, Thorfast deflected the attack with his shield, sending the soldier stumbling backward. He landed hard on the wood planks. Others closed in.

A shout went up among the crew. “Kill ’em!”

They swarmed over the merchant ship’s railings. Some jumped into the water. Others threw rocks at our attackers. It was only moments later that we heard the sounds of fighting, screams, and splashing waves.

When we got closer, I saw the merchant ship burning. Men fought around us, but most of the men aboard were dead. The ones still alive had been burned badly, and some lay unconscious. One man stood alone, holding his hands up. It looked as though he wanted to surrender.

I shouted for the crew to stop their violence. Then I ordered Thorfast and the other men to bring him aboard.

“Who are you?” I asked the injured man.

He blinked. His eyes were swollen shut, and his face was charred black. Blood seeped from his ears and nostrils. He coughed and spat blood onto the deck.

“My name is Cú Chulainn. Who are you?”

Cú Chulainn? That was the name of one of the greatest heroes of Ireland. An ancient warrior. A hero is worthy of such a title. Perhaps this was a trick. Or maybe the gods had sent a savior. Either way, I needed help, so I decided to play along.

“You’re welcome aboard,” I called out. “But we need food. Water. Bandages for these burns.”

With a grunt, the wounded man moved forward. I helped him climb aboard the ship, and we set him between two others who appeared less injured. I tried not to look at the scars on the backs of his legs; the skin there was blackened, twisted, and melted.

After getting him settled, we untied the ropes securing our boats to the merchant ship. Then, with four good sailors and me leading the way, we rowed toward the shore. Soon enough, we came within sight of land. I pointed to it. “Home,” I told the men.

There was no time to waste. In an instant, we cast off the rope and paddled toward shore. Halfway there, the tide turned against us and began dragging us farther south. So I yelled to the rest of the crew to paddle faster. They obeyed without question.

As we neared the beach, we found more men waiting for us. Our friends. They cheered when they recognized us, and many waved their arms in greeting. We were far outnumbered by the enemy, but the odds were much better than they had been before. With luck, we could finish them before they knew what hit them.

Still, I kept my guard up. We hadn’t seen the last of those pirates yet. And now, we’d lost a lot of men. We didn’t have nearly enough left to take on even five ships.

As we passed the surf, the crew stopped paddling and let the current carry us ashore. We waded through knee-high waves and ran across the sand, kicking up spray. Finally, we came upon the village.

The villagers stared at us in confusion. Their homes had been ransacked, and looted. But they weren’t here. As far as I could tell, everyone had fled.

We found a woman crying outside her hut. She must’ve known her husband or son, because she screamed and fell to the ground, clutching her chest. Her body shook violently as tears streamed down her cheeks.

I stepped close. “What happened here?”

She grabbed me, shaking all the more. “No one knows! No one can find any of the children!”

In a panic, I pulled back, searching for answers. What did they mean? Did someone kill them? Kill the entire village? Had something worse come for us while we slept?

Then, like an answer to prayer, I noticed smoke rising from the distance. Smoke meant fire. And fire meant that we might finally be safe.

The End

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