Date: Mon, 24 Mar 2003 09:30:09 -0500
From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com>
Subject: Raptors by Richard Dean - Chapter 2 GM - Y/F- A/Y - Historical

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The Raptors

Part I

Chapter 2 -- Departure Day

As Arne and his grandfather talked, others of the crew started to arrive,
singly, in twos or threes greeting each other with the traditional hand,
grasping the upper wrist to indicate there were no tricks up ones' sleeve.
The air was filled with the camaraderie of backslapping and light
conversation about the expectations of this venture upon which all were
eager to embark, however much their nerves were on edge.  Within an hour of
the rise of dawn, 300 hundred plus; men, young boys, and slaves-- who
volunteered to sign on in order to purchase their freedom from their
masters--gathered on the shoreline awaiting to be assigned their position and
duty aboard each of the bobbing Longships in anticipation to the
commencement of their departure.

Each attack Longship had a crew chief from which all orders emanated, he in
turn selected and assigned the rowers/sail handlers and 2 of the youngest to
dispense food, water and the slop bucket when called upon.  They would also
relieve each rower if they became cramped or disabled for one reason or
other.  There were usually two supply Longships which stored food stuff,
goat skins of water, mead, extra weaponry and empty storage chests to
contain the bounty which they would bring back if victory ensured their
riches.  Some could carry horses and farm animals, tools, building supplies
which would be used for those traveling to join with or to establish new
settlements thus ensuring continuity of the generations.  The supply
Longships would also have room for any captive slaves, women and children.
Because of their size--length, width and depth--they were not as fleet nor as
nimble or able to be beached on the shoreline as were the attack Longships.
They were cumbersome, yet could keep up with the smaller faster ships, as
their crews were larger which meant greater manpower versus those of the
smaller sized Longships.

Aboard one of the larger supply ships the Chief of the expedition would
oversee all of the ships of his captaincy.  From him orders were given and
directed to all of the smaller ships or to an individual ship to alter
course if schools of fish, dolphin, or whales were spotted.  They in turn
would cast out nets to gather in all they could, transfer their finds to the
mother ship and rejoin their brother ships.  Aboard the Mother ship, crews
would clean, prepare and distribute the catch to each sistership or
precluding that, salt the fish, extract the oils and throw the remains
overboard to feed other fish or feeding creatures.

Aboard the attack Longships the crew chief would assign a young boy at the
bow to keep watch on position within the group, 12 rowers each on the
starboard and port side facing the aft end staying alert to any command from
the crew chief who also served as helmsman.  During the day they sailed by
the sun, at night by the stars.  Uncannily the Vikings seldom missed their
target points on arrival of a landmass.  Such were the lessons learned from
generation to generation.

Ragnar Rasmussen, the crew chief of Longship #1, chose first and wisely.  He
had taken a year to watch and see how each of his mental selections would
turn out.  So impressed was he, with the young Arne, that he was his first
choice among the many veterans of previous journeys.  He had heard neither
complaint nor vocalizations about his teacher, Vornni, who was a hard
taskmaster yet fair in all of his assignments to the boy.  [God, how I hated
my teachers.  I wanted to shove their ballocks down their throats until they
gagged or worse.  Nothing I was assigned to do seemed right or properly
done....the bastards!  Over and over the same damned shit.  Wielding the adz,
ax or sledge, my arms ached, burned constantly, my back felt like it had
torn apart, sweat poring into my eyes, lips chapped, mouth dry and always in
the background the yelling, prodding, "are you a dunce, a fool?  Can't you
do anything the way I tell you?"  Damn them, I could have killed them or
torn them apart with my bare hands.  Somehow I got through it.  Arne?  He
took to those things like a bird to wing and through it all, he was smiling
as if it were a pleasure.  This young man will be a leader of men amongst
men.  I can predict that.  I would follow him, once he gets a couple of
years under his belt.   Hahaha, and what he has under his belt?  He's got
the hammer of Thor to strike fear in every woman and virgin he comes in
contact.  He'll have many fine sons from his loins, he will.  He'll fight
like his grandfather, gather wealth like his father, outpass his brothers in
deed and daring.  I'll not mess about with him.  I'll teach him every trick
I've learned.  Never a son of my own, this damned prick of mine.  Why, Odin,
why?  He'll be a son to me.  Look at him, standing there proud and pleased
with an easy grin that sways every woman, man and child to stand at his
side.  He's able, confidant, and smart as a whip.  Look at old Vornni,
pleased as a peacock, stuggling to strut the walk, accepting the claps of
congratulations to his back at the success of Arne being first chosen.  Even
crippled with tired bones, he will soon have a bevy of youngsters plying him
to be their teacher and advisor.  Good for you, old man.  Good for you.]
Ragnar, middle-aged at 29, snapped out of his musings.

"All right men, stop the chattering like women at their sewing.  You,
Torson, you are sailhandler, rower #2, next to Arne.  If Arne falls, Odin
forbid, you'll step into his place, and all of the other men will fill in
from your space on back.  The empty space will be filled with novice #1.
Listen to me men, hear my words clearly.  You, Berndt, stop the yapping.
Now!"  Ragnar waited until there was absolute quiet, eyes scanning the men
from one to the other, itching to fall upon the man who would not listen,
and pummel him to the ground for insolence.  He was the chief, no one would
disobey him.  Or he would find out the reason why.

"Should I fall for whatever reason, you will all push Arne to take the helm
as Chief, if need be.  He will ascend to my rank and authority.  If any one
of the lot of you cannot or will not accept that, then stand back and remain
behind....a coward!  Very well!  Now are there any of you that feel I need to
be convinced that I've made a bad decision, stand forward."

In nervous confusion, Arne thought: [I am but 13, I haven't the experience
or expertise that Ragnar has displayed.  I know I've been well taught, but
I've never been on a raid.  What if I fail?  Look at these men, most older,
some with as much experience as Ragnar.  Have I the will and power to
command them?  I could bring disgrace and dishonor on my fathers' name.
Odin, give me a sign.  Ahh, you bring Torson to stand by my side.  Yes, we
shall depend on or defend each other. ]

"Stand against me if you dare.  Fight me or fuck me.  Your body or mine in
death."

Ragnar's eyes swept the collective group of men, who were muttering lowly to
each other, turning to look to others within the group to see who would
offer to refute Ragnar.  Ragnar did hear snippets of mutterings: [I know
Sven, but look at the successes of Ragnar and even Snorri over there, they
were young, but took command and came home victorious with wealth and
slaves.  I'll not argue the point.  Will you?]

"Come now, is there not one of you who will challenge my authority?  No?
Very well, lets get on to the business of assignments."

Ragnar walked through the group of men, assigning them positions and number.
  Torson and Arne stood away after being assigned position and
number-standing, glanced along the beach and saw the groups of each of the
Longships congregated similarly selecting positions and number of their
respective members.

Torson spoke to Arne,

"I've never had but a few words with you before this, Arne Bjornsson, but
I've seen you from afar when visiting this community and when you were
racing my young brother, Artur.  I've seen you at training and wondered in
awe, how you were able to carry two heavy stones up that hill.  Once you had
them in a pile at the top, you would pick one up and carry it back down only
to return up the hill again, until the pile below was once again complete.
How you were able to do that without slipping, falling or stumbling leaves
me in amazement.  Congratulations on your selection as Number One.  Ragnar
Rasmussen, chose wisely."

"Thank you, Torson Hemminge.  I remember you well, especially when we met
during the sailing race at Halvingtor Fjord.  Only because I blocked the
wind from Artur's sail was I able to barely win the race.  A very lucky
break for me."

"Luck had nothing to do with it, Arne Bjornsson.  Skill and observation won
that race for you.  Artur still remembers the lesson you taught him."

"Please Torson, lets drop the formal tone here and now.  We`ll be working
and living side by side for a long time.  Formality serves no purpose where
we'll be going.  Agreed?"

"I agree, Arne," Torson replied while looking over the width and breadth of
his associate.  His eyes beheld a mature 13 year old, male, with a golden
halo of wheat blonde hair, alert eyes the color of sea blue on a strongly
sunlit day, an aquiline nose that accentuated the fully red lipped
countenance of the smiling youth's white perfectly formed teeth.  Arne would
be tall with the lean lithe muscularity of a swimmer.  His age of 13, his
height and weight indicated he had not finished his ultimate growth spurt
The long voyage and difficult chores encountered would soon erase all
vestiges of baby fat, if any, that clung to his hormone laden body.
Torson's visual sweep of Arne suggested a paean to the pantheon of ideals of
maleness incarnate.  His closeness to this vision of young manhood created
confusing issues which he thought to confront at a later time.  He felt
warmth and comfort radiating throughout his inner being.  [What is this?  I
feel warm and hot, yet I'm not sweating.  I want to touch his face, embrace
him, to pull him close to me.  How can this be?  Am I bewitched?  I'm
stirred within my vitals.  Oh no!.  I'm going to die of shame, if others see
me in full arousal.  What will Arne think of me?  Please, please, I beg of
you, Odin, sweep me away from here before I lose consciousness.  I feel
dizzy, my stomach flutters, my heart is beating so loud, I can hear it.]

"....at least that's what grandfather told me.  Torson?  Torson!  Are you
well?  Your face is flushed."

"Wha uh what did you say?"  [Ohhh, he's been talking to me and I couldn't
hear a word he's been saying.  What am I going to do?]

"I was saying that whether in combat, fight, or a race, if you're able to
make the opponent confused for a moment if necessary, you can gain the upper
hand in most cases."

"Oh yes, umm, yes.  I was concentrating on the race between you and Artur
and missed most of what you were saying.  I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to
alarm you."  [Thank you, Odin.  You've given me a moment to gather my
senses.]

"Certainly.  I understand.  Would you like to see my weapons and protective
leathers, Torson?  My leathers are newly made, so over the winter I've been
oiling them and polishing them regularly.  My weapons are hand-me-downs from
my grandfather and father, but still good as new, as I see it."

"Good.  I suspect we'll be seeing and using them frequently, once we join
the advance party."  [Odin, once again, you've saved me from his glances at
me.]

The young men walked from the periphery of the group of men who were talking
of old conquests and stories of yore.  They advanced upon a grouping of
chests which would not only contain their personal items of clothing, small
weapons and protective gear, but would serve as their seating within the
Longship, while rowing during calms or when the winds were not cooperative
to sailing.  Sinking to their knees after they found their chests, they
opened them and dug through in search of particular items of interest which
they felt would be appropriate to share.  Touching, feeling, enjoying the
heft and strength and workmanship of swords, axes, small knives they became
closer in a unifying friendship.
Pulling out a rune stone from his chest, Arne said,

"Let me share this prize with you.  It was given to me by grandfather.
Written in archaic Norse it reads in poetic rhyme:

"Ranging the seas, oceans by sail,
Vikings did come to prize entail,
Weapons on high, continue the tale,
Of bounty, riches, cloths so pale,
Returning victorious, some did fail,
Leaving behind widows who did wail,
Now in celebration, Valhallas' hail."

"Arne, that is truly a treasure.  It's a good omen."

Coming, Chapter 3, Trials at Sea

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