Date: Sun, 14 Sep 2003 02:34:58 -0400 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: Raptors by Richard Dean - Chapter 3 GM - Y/F- A/Y - Historical Copyright 2000 - 2003 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ What's New at TomCup.com? 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Check it out at http://www.tomcup.com! ************************************************************************ Raptors by Richard Dean Chapter 3 Trials at Sea As the fog burned off, the sun presented a venue of people, acquaintances, well-wishers, and families gathered along the beach to send off this battalion of Viking adventurers. With embraces of family, prayers for success, the Commander set his supply ships free to venture out from shore to allow the smaller Longships time to get their wind and muscles in tune and meet up as a fleet for further assignment to direction, speed and duration once out of the safety and protection of the fjord. One by one the Longships set off to the waves of goodbye and God Speed hailings from the groupings left ashore. Ragnar knew it would be at least a week of steady rowing or sailing before his ship would be able to maintain a comfortable ease of pace with the other ships in this battalion. He changed the pacing from time to time, to allow the muscles of his rowers/sailors to become attuned to the stresses and strains that were necessary to propel his Longship. The long winter months allowed some of the men to become fattened and had not done such strenuous work in their idleness. It was also a good time to see how well the men would conduct themselves to their assigned positions and with the others of the crew. He smiled to himself as he watched Torson and Arne row with strong confidence yet still chatting back and forth as if they had known each other all of their lives, in close friendship. He seldom found that he had to critique their body positions or sweep of the oars. Once out of the protection of the fjord, he had sail set as the winds were brisk enough and coming from the right direction to propel them along at a faster rate than rowing. During these slack periods, the rowers were allowed to rest, sleep, eat, dispel bodily waste or laze in casual conversation and jokingly ribbing some of the youngest of the crew. Ragnar was pleased with the makeup and good luck he had in choosing proficient and efficient, well-liked men. He was especially pleased that he had two able lieutenants at his beck and call. He kept Arne and Torson close to him at all times, telling them not to worry about their lack of self-confidence. All men, he told them, from time to time, felt they might be handling something that could spin out of control and become filled with self-doubt that they may not be able to succeed. The doing is the lesson, he told them. The undoing is the over confidence. Think, think, think, he admonished. Surprise and noise is the confusion that startles the victims, they have no time to think. They are rattled. They become irrational and flee away from the dangers, the noise and confusion. That gives us time to take what we want and disappear before they can gather themselves and fight us off. That's why you hear some of the men yell so loudly that you may think your ears may burst. They are practicing to make as many loud menacing sounds as they can. You must take in deep inward breaths of air, and yell as loudly as you can while dispelling the air to propel it out at the victims. Your swords and axes can take care of the few who huddle, frightened, cowering, shaking, pissing on the ground. No man, woman or child can fight while pissing, much less walk. Its impossible to do and still have control of your stream. Remember that! If they are crouched down while pissing, they have no strength to arise to fend off an invader. Their minds cannot work fast enough to allow the muscles and nerves the ability to do two separate functions at the same time. We will usually have the edge, that way. We attack most usually at early pre-dawn or at night when their fires and light are banked. The light from our torches confuse them and blind them. We have the edge because we have our night vision. Think, think, think! Ragnar's lieutenants listened and stored all of the information he imparted. He had become their guide, mentor, teacher, father-figure. Ragnar looked upon these two young men, as if they were his sons. He told them to come to him if they had any questions of any ilk, subject or form. He may not know all of the answers, but he sure as hell would help them find a workable solution, he said to them. Anything, they asked? Anything, he replied. ********* The North Sea is a treacherous body of water. It is seldom still because of the winds which pound down from the mountains, east or west, swirling, gusting in bursts that can upset boats in an instant. It is relatively shallow compared to most seas, or oceans for that matter. Thus, when winds prevail, the chop of the water becomes confused. It can bite with scissored jaws to claim man or ship. Norse men for centuries had learned its' lessons well, knowing full well it could make claim to conquer its' quarry. As the northwestern arm of the Atlantic Ocean it is approximately 600 miles long and 400 miles wide, northwest of Central Europe. It washes the shores of Great Britain, Norway, Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium, and the northern tip of France. In the south the Strait of Dover connects it to the English Channel and opens it directly onto the Atlantic Ocean between the Orkney and Shetland islands and between the Shetland islands and Norway. It is deepest 660 metres along the coast of Norway and contains several shallows, the largest of which is the Dogger Bank, midway between England and Denmark. Within the shallows contain multitudes of fisheries of cod and herring, as the Vikings discovered from their forebears and those subsequent to them. When winds blow strongly upon the Atlantic or Pacific Oceans, they create swells of waves that become for the most part patterned series of waves. Normally a pattern may consist of 5 or 6 waves, with the 6th or 7th, higher and wider. In the North Sea because of its shallow configurations the patterns are not discernable. The shallow water becomes pushed ahead of the winds which swirl somewhat like water in a drain, and collide with each other wave and creates a genuine task to keep sails full of air, as the boats bob up and down while gaining speed. During times like these if the helmsman is not wary or does not discern the masses of roiling waves as they pitch upward, breaking askelter upon each other, it can cause the boat to broach, present its' length to the winds and capsize. It is the helmsman expertise that keeps the winds behind him, offering only the slim outline for which the winds can part around, while lessening sail so as not to blow them out. While broached often times the sails will luff, sputter and forward progress will be lost, leaving the boat and occupants at the mercy of the wind and waves, a dangerous and ill-fated position to be in. On the 9th day of rowing and sailing, the winds increased, rains poured down, flashes and the thunder of lightening created panic to some who had never witnessed such events. Most Longships had a large tent or covering erected to protect the occupants from the elements; sun, rain and the occasional hail storms. The lookouts, helmsman were subjected to facing the elements in order to do their jobs. Ragnar called out the sail crew to reduce sail, and assigned six of the men to man the oars to assist him to sail "to the wind". He could call upon the oarsmen to pull from which ever side he needed to keep the ship `to the wind'. All others were settled under the protective cover of the tent. Ragnar called out to Arne to assist him holding on to the helm. "Reduce sail a quarter more!" he yelled in the howling wind. His order was loudly repeated through cupped hands by the closest lookout so all aboard knew what their assignments were. "Oarsmen, row steadily two on one!" The lookout repeated his order, as he struck the mallet on the iron ring. For every strike to the ring, the rowers would stroke two times, keeping up to the constant ringing every second or so. "Arne, call out Torson to take over the count, our lookout is not keeping in time, we must control our speed. Hurry boy, we can't afford to make any mistakes here." "Torson!" Arne yelled as loudly as he could, "take the count!" Torson nodded his understanding and signaled for a replacement rower. Once the new man got settled into his position, Torson came aft and took the hammer and began a steady and precise ring, ring, ring, ring with metronomic precision. "Do you see, Arne, how the winds are creating the waves to whitecap?" Arne nodded in affirmative reply. "Ragnar," Torson yelled, "the battalion have left formation and are now in oblique formation." Ragnar nodded his understanding. He knew it was a necessary move so that one Longship would not run into or over another Longship in front of the formation. By sailing on the oblique, they had nothing in front of them to prevent cause for accidental collisions. By this time Ragnar's attention was on only to his ship, he could no longer afford to look out around him. He had to depend on information coming to him by Arne and the lookouts. Every half hour Torson, called for replacement rowers to spell those rowers on duty. The exchange took place without incident. Ragnar was pleased that Torson took the responsibility off his shoulders and was looking out for the men's welfare. Ragnar had no time, nor could afford to lose his concentration on sailing on "to the wind". The winds were steadily increasing in strength and variance, somehow Arne, Torson, and Ragnar knew exactly what to do, to save the ship. The rains were pelting them with each drop feeling like a bee sting. There was nothing they could do but weather the pounding they were taking. On several occasions the helm was ripped from Ragnar's hands as they became so wet he no longer had grip on the helm. Thankfully, Arne had good hold else they would have become victims of the confused, angry, ravenous North Sea. Within eight hours of being subjected to bracing winds, rain, and tormented seas of waves smashing here and there against ship and other confused waves, the rains lessened to a drizzle, the winds relented in strength, but continued to blow vigorously. The wave action continued until their fetch came into a workable and navigable ordinariness. Everyone of the ship's occupants were tired, aching, drenched and chilled, hungry and ready for collapse. Ragnar stoically maintained his position at the helm, as he knew Arne and Torson were taking charge in bringing about order to his ship. They increased sail volume, dispersed the oarsmen, tasked the lookouts to prepare food and drink for the hardy but tired seamen. Finally each and every man could take the opportunity to piss overboard. Only once or twice did Arne and Torson hear a complaint: "Hey watch out, you're pissing on me. Stand away from the wind not into it, you dumb bastard." All would remain damp and chilled until the sun came out to dry them and allow them the opportunity to change clothing, what little they had. They could only carry so much in their chests. Huddled within blankets or furs they warmed up, yet still felt clammy, dirty from the drying salt on their bodies and clothing. If they were not soon able to wash, they would develop chaffing and sores from the strength of the salts. Fortunately from the rains, water was collected from runoff of the tent to barrels, which contained the only fresh water they had aboard. It was still only enough to use for drinking and food preparation. No bathing was permitted. And the North Sea was too cold to be a comfortable swim. It would be a long, arduous journey. They knew that before they stepped aboard. They were filled with dreams of wealth, slaves, material gain, and land. Most could then be eligible to marry and raise a family on lands of which they conquered and farmed, nevermore to go a Viking. "I'll take the next shift of helmsman, Ragnar, Arne offered, "Please, eat and sleep. I marvel at how you held control of this ship in that storm. Never once did I feel we would capsize. I only hope I'll be able to be half the seaman you are, and still walk away with my life and limb." Once he was certain Arne, had total control of the helm, Ragnar slowly, tiredly stood upright and stretched out fully, trying to get the kinks out of his arms and back. He knew he was tired, both mentally and physically. He felt drained. "Ja, thanks, Arne. Both my number one and number two have proven their mettle to me and to the others. I don't believe you will have any problems with any of them, now or in the future. They watched you like an eagle and you soared in their estimation of you. I can tell. I know these men." Then turning to Torson, Ragnar called, "Torson come over here, man." "You called for me, Ragnar?" "I've been telling Arne, I couldn't be more proud of you in the way both of you took charge, became my eyes and ears, and allowed me to concentrate on piloting this ship. Look about you, both of you, see the pleasure and grins on the men's faces. They know what you did. You both stand tall in their eyes, as you do mine. I never noticed fear or concern on your faces. Somehow you dug deep within you and leadership prevailed. This is a lucky ship!" Ragnar walked toward the tent, clapping his hands on the backs of the men he passed, giving them his approval of their contribution. Admonishing the young boy to hurry up with the food and to break out the mead, so all would eat well tonight. "I was really frightened when I saw Ragnar lose his grip on the helm," Torson whispered to Arne. "I thought we were going to be in deep shit, but when I saw you had control, I let out a big sigh of relief." Look at him, sitting there at the helm, the picture of perfection and contentment. I so want to touch him, pull him over to my body and hold him. I cannot do that. Why do I have such thoughts? Odin, I implore you, cast out these impure thoughts from me. Make me whole, once again, please I beseech you, Odin! Arne whispered back, "I have to admit, I was uncertain for a while too, except when I looked over at you, at how steady and able you were handling everything, I became more calm. Knowing you are there as my friend, makes me feel good, warm and confident. I think we've learned much on this voyage, Torson. Thank you." Torson's odor captures me. He sits next to me so closely I can feel his warmth. He is so handsome, his smile, his strength. He will have fine looking babies one of these days. He is my friend, always helpful. Sharing, even offering to make room for my bedsack, as I lie next to him in his. I enjoy these quiet moments when he is next to me. Somehow I feel we belong with each other. Could I suffer the loss of Torson, should he be wounded or worse? I would die to be with him, I believe. These are shocking thoughts, where do they come from. I know I love him as my friend, don't I? What! Could it be more? Why do I become excited when I see him without covering? Why do I look upon him when I see him pissing. I embarrass myself thinking these thoughts. No, I have a job to do. Take a deep breath, Arne, you're tired, hungry, keep your mind on your assigned task. No, don't look at him. He'll notice. I'm becoming nervous, I see him staring back at me. I dare not look him in the eyes. He will see this and I will lose him. I can't lose him, I've only recently found him. Please Torson, look away, look somewhere else. I can feel him looking at me; I can hear his breathing. If I turn slightly toward him I'll be able to breathe in his breath. He must become a part of me. He must! "Food and mead for you number one," the young boy said, "Captain Ragnar told me to have you, number two, take over the helm while number one eats, then you will be able to eat. Please sir?" "Thank you, boy," Torson said, "I'll take over the helm Arne, while you eat and make a quick toilet. When you get back, I'll eat by your side so we can talk. I'm not really very sleepy. I want to know more about you and your life." Coming, Chapter 4 -- A meeting of the minds? ************************************************************************ To support this and other stories by the author, become a member at http://www.tomcup.com Send comments to: richard@tomcup.com ************************************************************************