Orphan's Revenge

I

The sea breeze is cool and salty on my face, and the rocking and groaning of the long boat give me the peace I need to reflect on the inevitable. I've grown up with the grueling and harsh training that my father and his father before him have, to fight strongly and win or die at the hands of my enemies. Although I am well trained I'm still having second thoughts on what I must do.

This is my first raid, according to tradition I must attend a raid before I am fully accepted as a man. They held a feast and party when it was official, it was honestly very bland but the people were nice and the food was good, but the surprise that papa and mom had was really what I was waiting for. He had said that it was important and that it would make me very happy. When my party was over I went back to the cabin and he was sitting by the hearth, papa was so proud he gave the first gift of my life, his first berserker's short axe. It was a fine thing, and its wooden shaft and leather grip felt right, like it called for me. To just hold it filled me with courage and the thirst for blood. Its iron blade shined in the torch's light. "Son, this is an axe that I myself am not able to name, but I'm sure that you will be able to name this axe the name that will make your foes shake in their boots".

My papa is a strong stout and powerful man; he stands six feet tall and swings his axe, " Bone-Breaker" as though it was a twig. The men in our village have come to know him as Gregory the Wild due to his combat abilities and willingness to tough out the worst. His eyes shine like the blue of the sea, his tangled blood red mane of hair give him the appearance of a true berserker. Despite this he is the most kind and loving father anybody could ask for, quick to laugh and forgive. His enthusiasm and protectiveness have been the strongest when things looked the worst.

My mother often says that she couldn't ask for a better lover with a dreamy look in her golden hazel eyes.

I'm shaken from my thought when someone playfully pushes me again the railing, I look back to see my uncles gritty but smiling face. He lets out a loud chortle and says " carful boy next time I'll actually push you over" then laughs again. My uncle is much like my dad gentle and kind yet willing to fight for what he believes is right, although that is where the similarities end. He is short and thin but the quickest Man I've have ever seen in my life. Most know him as Marcus Quick hand. He has tanned skin from constant days spent in the sun and crude leather armor to protect him from what ever may come at him, but it probably wouldn't hold if some managed to actually hit him. His hair cut short and is brown unlike my papa's but their eyes are almost identical.

"I can see how you got lost in thought kid, the view truly is beautiful, reminds me of home." I look back out at the open sea; it sparkles in the morning's sun and has a crystal like glimmer to it. " So are you ready? We should be their by noon if the winds hold." He says gruffly trying to look strong as steel but I can see the anxious look in his eyes. " I don't know uncle, I don't know if id be able to do it." As the words come out of my mouth I hear how pitiful it sounds and look away " Ah don't worry Lod, your first raid will always be the hardest but you can do it. I've seen your abilities and their flawless, and hey" he looks me straight in the eyes " its alright to be scared, its natural just don't let your nerve get the best of you and you'll do great." "Thank you uncle." He looks away to look at the cabins door " Hey when we get there your father and the other berserkers will storm that beach with the force of Thor's hammer, then you and I will come from the rear and flank them and leave them witless!" he lets out a great roar of a laugh, which by then my father approaches smiling. " Lod a word please." His expression begins to grow serious as I approach him and he begins to explain how he and the other berserkers are going to confront the village's militia and that my uncle and a few others are going to flank them. The seriousness of his tone is unlike anything I have ever heard come from his mouth before so I know he isn't jesting.

When we arrive I see the lush green fields fresh from being harvested. A little further in I see a group of houses surrounding a market and a towering storehouse. The air smells of wheat and sheep, I see the woods retreating behind the village. It's beautiful and tranquil; papa comes behind me and slaps me on the back and roars " Men prepare your selves lest you dine in Valhalla tonight with the Gods!" I look up at him and he nods with all seriousness and looks out towards the shore.

When the long boats ram the shore, my father with a dozen or more berserkers barrel towards the village. We bound after them covering their flanks to keep the militia from surrounding them. The villagers come, but to late; my father is the first to kill. He swings Bone Breaker and cleaves and man like warm butter. Then the militia and our men clash with the villagers being overran horribly. My first kill was horrible, an elderly man rushes at me with a knife and I take his neck with a clean stroke, blood spewed from him like a geyser and soaked the rags he wore. The feeling of putting him down was horrible but felt right, as though it was what I was meant to do. The axe my father has given to me is sharper than anything I have ever known; and is balanced in my hand, I run towards the others to help finish the fight, so that I may hurry to put this behind me.

As the battle continues I realize that this is a slaughter, that's when I realize it. My father lying on the ground nonmoving and in a pool of blood, I rush over to him and crash down onto my knees beside him. I look down to see him smiling he looks happy. " Son, I love you." He looks me in the eyes " Tell your mom and sister that I love them as well... promise me you will" I nod feeling the hot tears streaking down my dirt covered face making traces down my face. " One more thing Lod... he grins big " Kill the bastard that put these whores' sticks in my gut" gesturing towards the arrows logged into his torso. He then lets out a horrible laughing cough as the blood trickles out of his mouth then he mutters something under his breathe. " I can hear... Thor's hammer ringing in the sky... And Odin's cheering voice calling me to Valhalla.." Then his sea blue eyes shut as he gasps his last breath. I look at my father, he looks peaceful and at ease; I look up at the man who killed my papa. He looks twenty with shoulder length hair that is golden as the man looks with the look of a snobbish fucker. Father has a name for these kinds of men, pretty boys.

I get up and let loose a scream that sounds more like a roar, startling my uncle and a few others along with the pretty boy. I charge him like a bull on a rampage; I hit him with the force of Thor's hammer. He falls and scrambles back and lets loose an arrow that strikes me in my left arm. I don't feel it hit me, nor the second one that fallows. I walk to the pretty boy who is trying to rise but cant; I swing my axe that strikes him clean in his left shoulder. He falls back, pleading for his life but I can barely hear him all I can see is red blood red. I take his right arm then his stomach. Then he dies lying there like a pitiful calf ravaged by dogs; I feel good and right doing this but the rage drains from me leaving remorse's cold fingers to entangle me and drain my energy.

My uncle approaches cautiously, and puts his hand on my shoulder his grip is tight. I hear him apologizing over and over again, my vision clears and I look pack to see his eyes full of tears. "I, I'm sorry Lod.. There wasn't anything I could do.." I'm shocked and dismayed; I've never in my whole life heard uncle cry. Its an ugly thing, I cant bear it I walk over the the pretty boy's dead body on his neck I see some kind of talisman around his neck. The talisman looks like a golden cross, I pull it off his neck and put it into the pocket of my leather vest.

 A/N 

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