This is my second fragment. Unlike the first, where I didn’t know what it was, I decided to use a prologue I had written. It originally came about from an exercise I had done to generate ideas, where I had written some prologues. This one is also different because I have written more to this, and I do know, at least an idea for, what the beginning will be and what the end will be. I do plan, or want to, finish this someday. Maybe not publishing, but at least finish the draft and maybe revise it. Also, I am glad I remembered my SKALD playlist to finishing going over this, it, or at least some of it, fits very nicely.
The sea spray spattered over Astrid’s face. She stood on the prow of the longboat, a smile upon her lips, the smoking remains of a village falling slowly, farther and farther behind her. The village was not her own, no. And she was not a slave, being taken from her home to live in some unknown village. It was rather quite the opposite.
She was, in fact, the very one who had led the raid against the village on the island. She had led in the slaughter. She had been there burning, had been there choosing who would become a slave and who would remain. It was all her fault the young men and women in the boat would soon be slaves at the High Chieftain’s village.
It was not likely they would go farther than that village. There were other villages, aye, but they would stay there, at least for now. They would serve their new masters, or they’d be punished. Astrid would most likely be in charge of their punishment. She’d probably have first choice on the slaves as well. However, it would not be her responsibility to punish for long.
Astrid shifted her weight to the other foot, and grasped the haft of her spear close to her chest. She watched the roiling waves surf their way across the sea. Most of the Ostmen used swords or axes, but she preferred a spear. It had longer reach, giving her the advantage of range when others had the advantage of height, weight, and strength. Not that Astrid wasn’t stronger or larger than some of her adversaries, just most were greater than she.
She looked ahead to the near future. A village stood in the way of her home and her ambitions. Ambitions that rivaled kings and the gods. The village had stopped sending tribute two years before. The trip had been prolonged in the case the tribute had been delayed or an answer was forthcoming. Now, she was sent to see what had happened. If it was something out of the villagers’ hands, a stern warning would be given along with proof that threats would be carried out. If it was in rebellion, then punishment would be meted out. Astrid, hoped for the former, which was unlike her.
Astrid was known to be ruthless when dealing with those who needed to be kept in line, or brought into it. She enjoyed what she did. She enjoyed feeling stronger and higher than others. But she was hurrying because she wanted to be home, wanted to execute the plans she had been dreaming for so many years now. Ones she believed she now could bring to fruition.
The village that was now a smoking line on the horizon, was not the same as the one they were on course for. That had been a free village that had found itself in the way of Astrid’s pillaging band. They were now under High Chief Eivar. Well, those who still lived and remained there. Astrid smiled a satisfied smile.
Gripping the haft even tighter in both hands, she anticipated what was to come. She had always wanted to challenge the high chief, take his rule, and conquer the other high chiefs. Then, she would sail across the sea, after conquering the known lands here, and conquer the lands beyond the walls of ice, where it was said lived the creatures of legends and also the gods themselves. Astrid would find them, and then, why then, if all went well, she would join their number and be a goddess herself. Perhaps, she would even be called god slayer.
She allowed herself to dream this once before silencing the idea. The gods, of course, would not let her free for thinking such thoughts, so she contented herself with thoughts of dominion and godhood. A thrill went through Astrid, making her shiver, at the thought of soon being Queen. She said a quick prayer to Odin and Thor for their aid in the coming conflict.
There was a peal of thunder in the distance, and dark clouds began to brew in the horizon. Rain was coming. But that didn’t matter to Astrid, she relished the oncoming storm. She felt refreshed by the driving rain lashing her face. Astrid knew the gods had heard her prayer and Thor had answered. “Mine thanks to thee, Almighty Thor, I shall not disappoint,” she cried out into the oncoming storm, smiling, eyes closed, feeling a joy that swept through her entire being.
The end, so far,
God bless,
You created more in ten paragraphs than most writers I have encountered would create in the same number of chapters. Your fragment was clear, compelling and enticing — a small jewel box of prose with a distinct aura of antiquity, a clear call to revel in detailed worldbuilding and a the promise of a whopping good yarn.
More fragments, please.