Dakota Viking Sends: Second Raid

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They’d harpooned a seal and were readying the sand box fire as the hunters butchered the carcass. Fresh was always better than dried, they had a couple deep cod lines out just in case. They continued south, searching the shoreline, for anything.

Blubber, crisping and frying, a quick dip into seawater to cool and salt, pop into mouth … so good.

Lura pulled out his recently acquired sword, inspecting it as he rubbed it down with fat, not what he was used to seeing, shorter, single handed made for stabbing. Old. The elders said it came from an ancient empire to the south, that was no more. More steel than someone of his position should own. He’d actually seen hewing spears with this long a blade. A true battle prize. He had the man's shield too, not round, more square, but curved to protect better. His was broken, and as old as it was, this would have to do. As to broken, his left wrist still hurt like Hel, but no serious damage. Just rest it a few days.

Rugged coastline south, another seal, good eating. Smoke rising in the distance, a whaling village? Steering toward shore. Small fishing vessels passing to the sides, keeping distance. Just as well. Slash the oars out and head for the smoky shore. Pull! Harbor in sight, pull! Not fast enough, a huge mob of men waited on the beach. They were chanting something, so we gave back a few "Haaarroouuuuus!" and beat on our shields.

They came right down to the waters edge and those with bows started lobbing arrows at us, young boys were slinging rocks at us. The longboat ground to a stop on the rocky shore. Over the side! Fight out of the water! They had us disadvantaged, trying to form a shield wall in the water. Spear out, shield up, axe in belt shortsword in scabbard.

Form up and push forward. Trying to link shields with those around him, the rocks and water, making this difficult. Forward! Thwack … sharp pain from his forehead, slings … Keep that shield up, face is wet … his blood … keep moving.

Spear low under the linking shields, formed and walking. Our side starts chanting a saga of Odin slaying Ice Giants, they gibber and screech like women. We trot forward together as one until within striking range, and then our line explodes into their mass. Lura stabs two with his spear; the third one keeps the spear in his body.

Shield up, grab frantically for the axe. Start chopping down at a shield up, spear thrusting bastard. Push forward past the spear, shield it aside … too close for a good axe hack. Push through and over the spear guy, on his back trying to bring the spear to bear, Lura plunges his axe into his prostrate foe's face, thus ending the confrontation.

Two more steps and he is back in the melee. Lock shields, push forward. He’s not happy with the results of his axe against shields, shoves the shaft back into his belt and pulls the battle prize shortsword (he wanted his spear) Thrusting and stabbing the blade out from behind the shields landed several hits, some he stabbed went away, some came back for more. All were bloodied.

Villagers working up the courage to attack, rushing forward, and if they didn’t clumsily fall forward while swinging their weapon at the shields, they would kick at the shields … exposing your groin to angry men with sharp blades is not a good idea. Many fell, we advanced. They screamed, we roared. Stab, slash ,step, repeat. Thud, another shot from a sling, shield up thwack, another! Can’t hardly look around thud, again. Armed men in front are retreating, shot and arrows crescendo, then taper off as ready ammunition depletes.

Battle Cry! Rooooaaar!!! Rush forward as the defenders run. A bunch of kids scramble up a low hill, turn and start slinging rocks at the men pushing forward. He and a handful of men get into the cover of the huts, and start searching.

Dark, cramped huts, smoky and smelling of fish, not much wealth here, again some iron, very little silver, screeching women and kids to be ignored … until … one screechy hag attacks him with a knife. Lura pulls his axe from his belt by the steel and thumps the harpy on the head with the butt of the axe handle. She goes down with a shriek; he gives her another thump for good measure, then picks up the knife and throws it into the outside path to be gathered as loot when they leave. Women can be fierce and deadly, they’re not to be trifled with. Shouts from outside, our archers have persuaded their slingers to leave. Though some would stay, permanently.

Someone found something up the hill, shouts out for more men … Running uphill, lungs burning for breath, ahead, where the commotion is, a stone keep? Longhouse? Not a castle? Whatever it was, the townsmen were defending it.

Arrows and rocks zipped over the wall randomly. A big stone building with a wooden door. Fire and steel eventually burn/break through the wood. Men rush through the still burning doorway smoke thick inside, eyes burning hard to see, floor slippery … blood and spilled guts of the defenders … the smell … groans, whimpers, laughter and roars, echo in the stone hall. 

Many of the men in the hall, all wearing the same dark cloaks walked up to us and kneeled with hands clasped in front of them, muttering a chant. The first couple were killed, the others beaten until they ran away, though that old grey haired one stayed until beheaded.

Some kind of temple, like we have for our Gods, only theirs was a deadman on a crossed pole. Gold trinkets, silver and copper cups and goblets, bowls, ceremonial things and tokens, a couple handfuls of coins; all thrown into bags and baskets to be topped off with whatever we threw into the paths among the huts.

We gather what we can, and raid the fish racks for ready dried cod. Many sea birds were in the butcher process a product of the slings.

A few of his fellow raiders have taken on the task of bringing slaves back, trouble and expense too high for the reward, even if you manage to keep them alive. The village watches us from the higher hillside, elders silent, youngsters yelling, shouting and throwing things.

Barrels of whale fat/oil, and several barrels of ale which were promptly loaded onboard (after they’d tapped one). The slingers were getting annoying about the time we pushed off the beach. We were well out into the harbor and those little bastards were still landing thunks at distance. You’d hear them whizz and thump into the sail and clatter to the deck. Made you keep your head down.

Ale, so much better than that stale brackish water they’d been drinking. It clouded the head nicely, and they were sailing … salt-spray, gulls, plunging deck, open sky, good friends, and …

Ale …

Some of the slavers were selling favors from their captures. Things were getting ugly between some involved in the play. Konrad barged in and put an end to the pettiness. “next one of you that starts a fight on this boat is going over the side.” Everyone knew he meant it.

Quaff a few more gulps of ale, then curl up in his cloak at his bench. Hull plunging, rocking, surging forward, peaceful sleep.

Awake … must piss … where’s the wind from … stumble to the side.

Bright daylight, beautiful sky, choppy sea. Skuas were gliding back and forth riding the wind off the sail. Tear off a chunk of dried cod, dip it in some whale oil … breakfast to start the day.

Lura makes his way back to the steer board, and asks the skipper for a turn for experience the skipper turns the steer board tiller over to him and watches the boat and Lura intently. For awhile, then he goes and relieves himself and grabs some cod.

Surging with the wind, down-wave on a following sea … was exhilarating, keep the course, steer into breakers, don’t get sideways to the waves. Fresh wind, speed, he loved sailing.

More men were waking, communal bowls were passed around for washing hair and faces. A fire started for the fresh fish and birds that needed to be boiled.

The steersman wandered up and observed Lura for awhile, eying the longboat and sail, he nodded. “Good, steady, if you want to learn more, I’ll make sure you are taught.”

“Of course! I want to learn everything”

“Well, I’ll take over in a bit, you steer your course and come up with some questions for me to answer, I’ll be back.”

Later, fresh boiled cod and a fresh tapped barrel of ale …

They continued on a Viking.