A VIKING EPIC
Part 1 – Viking !
Author: Andrew Weaver.
Artistic advisor: Sonja-Marie Peacock.
Original story owned and produced by: Andrew Weaver.
Published by Wilmots 2010 at Smashwords
Copyright Andrew Weaver 2010
A Viking Epic,
A true adventure, a lone Viking on a mission for the gods that could affect the whole future of Asgard.
It was foretold…..
When lighted dragons flew the skies
They would come.....
Fighting men in great ships
Giants of men....
With long yellow hair and deep blue eyes.
The night of 7th June 793AD.
Did the Gods say this way?
The omens are not good, some now openly say,
Being as they are, of Old Norse,
Are they off course?
Only worlds end, where fate is decided and Gods play
Are winds, seas, lightning and storms like these, they say,
Still, young man stands at bow of longship, in concentration, a frown,
By name of Heidir Gustavsson, proud name, by father handed down,
Segor, his wolf at his feet,
With master, fighting machine complete,
Great responsibility was his, now braced against cruel spray and waves of sea,
That they stay on course, and must in the right place be.
His also, sacredly handed down, father’s polished lodestone,
The only one on this ship, all his responsibility, alone,
Sixty warriors all freeborn, now rowing against the storm,
Ripped and torn, square sail taken down, hopes almost forlorn.
Though, ordinary men might give in,
To these brave souls it would be a sin,
For never, in their history, or under their sun,
Had even one of these men, from any challenge or battle run!
Then…..Through spray and driving rain, Heidir, with eye ever keen,
Had spied land in the distance, just, as in vision seen,
From before, when they had left their now far Norse home,
The only ship to set sail, all alone,
To win treasure, renown for themselves, an honorable mission,
And, by the very Gods themselves, granted permission.
He slumped on the deck, warm fur and wolf, now gathered round,
Hopefully to rest, now that land had been found,
To find a decent night’s sleep, that until land was sighted,
Was a luxury much wanted, but always thwarted, blighted,
And so to sleep, in that miserable cold,
Where mind drifted back, to that day, he was proudly seven years old.
In the great hall, from a great fire, smoke hung in the air,
Father sat on wooden throne, waited on by maidens fair,
A place of wonder, he had never been inside before,
Had never seen past the guards at the heavy front door,
His father a huge man, grizzled beard, golden goblet in one hand,
Chain round his neck, and rings and jewels brought back from a foreign land.
From head to toe in wolves skins against the cold, wrapped round,
When stood, a full six and a half feet, from top of head to ground.
His wonderment growing, as behind his father, he saw,
Under the mounted head of a great boar,
A golden shield, silver hilted sword, and a huge silver axe, hung on the wall,
Boy thinking, if he could just touch them….. Perhaps, when he was more tall,
And as his father began to talk,
Boy came closer, still looking round in awe, slow, in walk.
“Now you have reached the age of seven,
I must tell you, as I agreed, of your heritage from heaven,
You are my son! That I will not deny,
But how you came to be, this story I promised to tell, and will try,
For, you are not fully mortal, not fully human fleshed,
You are of Odin’s spawn, with human enmeshed.”
A seeming impatient back hand wave,
To the maids this was meant, and gave,
A signal from father, for maids to leave quickly, by the back door,
Wide eyed boy, mouth open, half crouched, about to sit on the floor.
Beckoning the boy closer, so the hushed tones he could hear,
Old man started to tell the story, eyes glistening, in one a tear,
About to tell, how he was not of his flesh but, of that from Odin,
Though this is true, emphasized, he was conceived and born, without sin.
Of this truth, there is no doubt, for man knows little of Gods’ thought,
And most, less than that! Though stories they tell, they know but naught,
“This is something you must never tell, for your sake, others must never know,
After I tell you this, things will become apparent, even more so, as you grow!”
“It was in the days, when, for the Greeks, as mercenaries we battled,
That as a warrior I had my bones thoroughly rattled,
My final fight,
That…..
Sent me to the golden light.
Olaf the mighty was on my left, Segor the wolf was on my right,
We had travelled so far for this great fight.
We three men were unbeatable, when together we fought,
For, we gave no quarter, great havoc with sword and axe we wrought,
But, just before battle was joined,
Sure victory was stolen from us, purloined,
Some dirty jackals behind us had turned,
That day, some filthy gold, for themselves had earned,
First was Segor, a spear, his head split,
Olaf then turned round, in the eye with an arrow was hit,
Then five more in his body, blood spurted through teeth grit,
Then down on one knee before he died, solemn oath did he spit.
I spun around, after feeling the pain of many arrows as they bit,
Anger for my comrades so needlessly dead,
Anger….Strength from gods, to my body fed,
Threw the spear that killed Segor, so hard it couldn’t fail,
Saw it pass through horse’s neck, then rider impale,
Six more arrows, my body took,
But, I wasn’t for dying, no surrender would I brook,
All I could feel for this scum was enmity,
Forgot for a moment, our way, life and death with equanimity,
And as far as I could tell,
With last efforts, three more bastards, with axe and sword did I fell,
Then I seemed apart somehow…..Aloof,
Saw as from a distance, my body trampled by horse’s hoof,
Though I felt no more pain,
I feel it now, as I tell it again“,
…..Then tears ran down the tough mans cheek,
But in his voice, no self pity, no anger, but of cold vengeance did it wreak,
He swore an oath, wiped his face with fur of sleeve,
Just took this moment, for fallen comrades to grieve,
Then shouted, “Wench, bring more mead, and hurry maid!
For your slowness in your service, blood I have paid!”,
And as she came running, filled golden goblet from jug,
He put his big arm around her tiny waist, his wife, boy’s mother, gave a big hug,
He smiled as she needed,
Show of affection, as her eyes pleaded,
And, as this was between “Men”, then, waved her away,
So the thread of his story he wouldn’t lose, or from it sway.
“All we Viking stood our ground, didn’t run,
And, for it we were killed,… Every one,
We were all chosen to die fighting that day, by the battle maids,
As we died, we cursed our enemies, filthy dogs, with a thousand plagues!
As we died, the field ankle deep in blood ran,
Til our hearts beat no more, to a single man.
Valkyries, choosers of the slain,
Picked their chosen ones, as in tangles and heaps our bodies were lain,
I saw with my own eyes,
Two, descend from the skies.
Each, of my body, took an arm,
Lifted me gently away from harm,
To a giant golden chariot, in the sky above the clouds,
There were other comrades there too, no sign of any death shrouds,
Each sat with their “Norn”,
We all have one from the day we are born,
From the time we take our first breath,
They bring us good fortune in life, pre-determine the hour of our death,
Yet….I didn’t have one,
Instead I was given that golden shield, so bright, it shone like the sun,
I was told that I would need it in my quest,
I knew not of what she spoke, nor couldn’t have guessed,
Every care was given to us, all we could need,
Happily we all ate good meat, and from golden goblets drank sweet mead,
Then perhaps too much…….I slept,
And when I awoke, I wept,
Gone were all the comrades I had known,
As I woke, I was by a winding road, all alone,
Behind me was a dark forest, and in the distance ahead…….
Ahhh,…
By Odin, by this time, I had a sore head,
But…..shimmering all colours, I tried to focus, to see,
Thinking now….The Rainbow bridge, is what it had to be,
I felt naked, I had no weapons, now looking around,
All there was…Was that golden shield, laying on the ground,
I cursed the Gods loudly, for being lax,
How could I defend myself, fulfill a quest, without sword and battle axe?”
Then, an apparition appeared….The biggest Giant,
It was the mead I thought, cursed the Gods again, cursed their tricks, my mind for being too pliant,
“Ha Ha Ha…..”
He loudly laughed, ….”So you’re the one,
Puny little thing aren’t you?…..OH!….Am I going to have some fun.
If you are the best that Odin can find,…wait a minute…..
Hmmmmm, maybe, he’s trying to trick my mind”,
Giant stroked his beard in thought,
But could see no Magick…No deception….Nought!
I wondered at that time, if all this meant,
I had sinned in my life at some time, and this was Odin’s torment,
Was I to battle this Giant? Certain death with no weapons! Still, I had no fear!
Yet, the torment was, the Rainbow Bridge and dearest Asgard were so near!
“Foul Giant!
You think my mind foggy with mead, compliant…..”
He silenced me before I could say,
I feared him not, and would make him pay.
He just laughed and on a huge boulder heavily sat,
While I stood defiant, shield on my arm, on the ground, at his feet I spat.
Then, still with some mistrust,
And he said this, with more than a little disgust…
“Now listen here, you puny, half alive, human……Thing,
In that tiny head of yours, does not even the tiniest bell start to ring?
Do you not understand who I am?
Even though this ghostly body, of my real one is but a sham,
And believe me you should fear,
For you don’t know how close to death you are right now, just how near,
I could squash your tiny head, like a grape, in my hand,
Your stupid brain would spurt out of your ears and feed the land”,
He paused….for effect….Pondered,
Then his voice thundered….
“I …..Am ……HRIMTHURS!….
My body held in Asgard by a curse,
The only way I can cross the Rainbow Bridge and go forth,
Is when Odin allows it, and only then, as long as the wind blows north.
I…..Built Asgard’s wall!
As defence against my own kind, in a way so it will never fall,
But since I ran out of building materials and rock,
I have been tricked, unless I finish, Odin has commanded I stay in Asgard until Ragnorok.
Alas I am but one Giant on my own,
In battle, I would soon be overthrown,
But…..There is a way,
This curse I can stay,
And you……My little friend….Are my key,
To free me from this misery!”
Then ….A shout woke the boy from his trance,
His father’s words, enthralling him, perchance?
“Woman, … More mead and hurry,
I hear you all in the kitchen, like rats you scurry,