Viking, me.

Chapter 2 - Demon Boat

I found my grandmother at the door, I undid the clasps on the animal pen where we kept blá.

"Come on grandmother" I said beckoning her to come towards me. We walked slowly together towards the village and down the little dirt path. The trees lined the sides, but at an interval you come across another little cottage farm house. As we walked other family's joined us in our ambling walk to church.

As we got closer there was a strong smell of burning and suddenly there was thick black smoke and cracking sounds. We came into the village and the towns people we had been walking with began to scream and hold onto their young children and husbands.

Monks from the monastery were being searched for, hunted even. You could hear cries from women in houses and crying children. The men in the village trying to fight off the strange invaders.

"Go back to the house! I'll be back soon!" I told her. She looked worried beyond belief and began to grab hold of me.
"No please come back don't go anywhere, come back with me!" I backed away apologising. I felt a surge of fighting spirit. In all the folk tails of Irish women I felt I had to live up and fight for my home. I ran to Cathal and demanded a sword and shield.

"Give me a sword!" I shouted, there was so much noise I could hardly hear myself. Screaming and shouting was all that could be heard. The sound of chaos. There was a tall bulky man with his back to me he had hair the colour of the sand on the beach and his clothes were blood stained. I closed my eyes and with all my force swung my sword at this mans back as I pled to god to forgive me. I hit him and when I looked at him he was on the floor bleeding heavily, my stomach lurched but I knew this was what is have to do to protect my home.

I knelt by him and apologised as I stabbed him with the broad sword blade in the back once more. He stopped moving. The woman who he had been threatening was in tears. I looked at her and comforted her and told her to escape through the east gate further on into the village. She ran as fast as the coach horses.

I turned around to find a man standing be hind me. He laughed gruffly, he was terrifyingly large, in every aspect. He spoke in another language to me, it involved a lot of deep throat sounds, it sounded a lot like Irish but I couldn't understand a word of it. He approached with a broad sword in one hand and the other stretched out to grab me. The tip of my blade still resting on the ground, for it looking light enough it really wasn't, I struggled to keep it off the ground and so I left my self open to capture.  I heaved it up into the air and stood somewhat steadily. He lunged and squeezing my eyes shut I lunged also. There was a wet thump sound. I froze, I felt no pain, I regulated myself before opening my eyes, expecting the worst.

I was fine, I had opened my eyes to my blade embedded in my assailant. His eyes bulged out of his skull and blood dribbling from the corner of his lip. The full weight of him finally crash down on me and I stumbled as I tried to compensate for his weight. I tried to push him off me but as I did I saw a terrifying sight over the shoulder of this dead man.

There he stood, the mysterious man from the well. He was standing with a bow bent and loaded with an arrow. My blood ran cold. I felt like a hunted doe. I pushed the fair haired man off of me leaving my sowed standing straight up in his chest. I wobbled in my nervousness to get away. He left his arrow fly, hitting the ground at my feet. I let out an uncontrollable shriek. He strode up toward me from the mother end of the road. His deep brown hair whipping in the wind and his cloak billowing behind him.


He came to stand in front of me. He towered above me, his strong masculine facial features sharp and his eyes judging. "Did you kill these men?" He asked me through gritted teeth. He threw out a hand and hoisted me up by my underarms. I tired to kick out at him and scratch him wth my nails, but alas it was to no avail.