I have taken a
writing challenge to improve my craft. The challenge is to write at least 500
words a day. As a way of holding my feet to the fire as it were, I will be
posting here for the next 31 days the things I write each day. There will be no
rhyme or reason to them; it is just the 500+ words I write. I'd love your
feedback too; let me know if any of the things I write resonate with you.
Thanks in advance!
Sifting
through the rubble with the tip of his axe, Straghn moved aside the smoldering
timbers in an effort to look for something, though he wasn’t sure exactly what
it was. He had come upon this cottage in the woods as he was traveling
north towards his homeland, and noticing the smoke it had drawn him like a moth
to a flame. He was hoping though, he would fare better than the moth.
By what
was left of the residence, he could tell there was a family which had lived
here. So far he had turned up no remains of any human beings and this
brought him a little relief, but it also made him think of his own wife and
children back home and with those thoughts he wished he was already there.
This
time in history was a brutal one, and men didn’t live long if you were unable
to defend your own property. Straghn’s wife Helga was a strong woman; a
shield maiden of his people, and knew how to defend herself with both axe and
sword. It was one of the things which he admired about her, and he knew
his family would be safe back in Kattagat while he was gone handling business
for King Ragnar.
Feeling
warmth through the soles of his boots told him this had happened not so long
ago. The ash hovered just over the ground behind everywhere he had
walked, giving it an ethereal and unnatural look. He half expected Loki;
the god of mischief, to show up at any time in one of his many shape shifting
forms bringing more trouble on his journey than he had already experienced.
Hearing
a crow caw off in the distance he turned quickly looking for the source of the
noise. “Odin is close.” he thought, and muttered a prayer, “Odin, protect
me.” It was just then he heard the low feral growling of the wolf pack at
the edge of the woods. He could hear them, but couldn’t see them
yet. Looking over at his horse, he saw his bow and arrows hanging from
his saddle, and wished now he had taken the time to bring them with him,
knowing he would never reach them in time to use them against the wolves, he
resigned himself to the knowledge this would be a brutal fight.
Deciding
on the course of action he should take, he hefted his axe into the fighting
position with his right hand, and with his left drew out the knife he carried
on his belt, holding it up in a defensive manner. He had a longer reach
with his axe, and would use the knife like a shield against the coming
attackers. Moving out of the rubble in order to get better footing,
Straghn watched the edge of the woods for any movement; eyes straining to see
into the darker parts.
It came
almost without warning, a long shrill cry like a banshee from behind him.
Turning with lightning quick reflexes honed from countless battles serving King
Ragnar, Straghn was shocked to see the woman racing towards him. Her
clothes were burned and tattered, and there was blood on her hands and
face. Forgetting the wolves for the moment, he wondered where she had
come from and what had happened to her.
Leaping
towards him, she left the ground with her hands outstretched reaching for his
neck. Shocked, Straghn side stepped causing her to miss her target and
hit the ground like a thud. Hearing the air leave her lungs as she hit,
he knew he had just moments before she regained her composure and attacked
again. Placing his boot on the small of her back he applied pressure to
pin her to the ground, but not enough to break her spine.
She lay
squirming under the pressure, calling down curses of all the gods on him for
what he had done to her family and home. He realized this must be the
lady of the cottage, and began telling her he was not part of the raiding
party. She screamed curses at him for the death of her family, and he
could see she was unable to hear anything he was saying because she was in
shock. Turning the axe over in his hand, and using the wooden handle he
hit her on her head; hard enough to knock her unconscious, but not so hard as
to break the skin.
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