Finns Way (A work in Progress)

by Clayton Thomas
1st December 2017

 

FINNS WAY

 

Finn brushed his sandy coloured hair from his blue eyes as he looked across the bay.  The wind had picked up and the lead grey sky promised a storm for later that day.  The gulls above the young man’s head called out and warned him not to stray near their nesting ground.

 

  He picked his way through the scrub above the bay and watched the waves crash against the cliffs.  Finn thought he saw a black shape moving along the horizon.  He moved along the bluff for a better view and could just make out a mast with a red and white striped sail.  Quickening his pace, Finn made for the edge of the cliff’s, if this really was a ship making for Portdown then he would have to let the Abbott know immediately. Questions tumbled through the young man’s mind, had the King sent a ship to Portdown?  Was it traders come from a foreign land in search of produce, gold and silver?

 

As the ship got closer Finn noticed that the bow of the ship was fashioned in the shape of a dragon with its roaring mouth wide open.  The ship was long and narrow culminating with the stern made to resemble the dragon’s curled tail, all along the sides evenly spaced were round shields and oars.  Now the vessel was closer he could hear a drum beating and the oars moving in time.

 

Dread filled Finn to the core, these were the raiders that were all the gossip in the village.  The men of the north that had attacked the King’s Garrison at Reef’s End further up the coast only a few weeks before.  They had burned the stronghold to the ground and killed nearly everyone inside. Sir Robert of Old Castle had been despatched with a detachment of men to bring these raiders to justice.   Finn knew immediately what to do, he must run back to the Abbey and warn the others.  The north men had come and they must find shelter from these demon’s.

 

Turning back to the village, Finn sprinted for home.  The wind had increased in ferocity and now the young man could feel the tiny splashes of rain falling from the sky.  As if the coming of the north men was some great portent the sky had turned black.  Imsrat the god of light had surely deserted them today thought Finn as he made for the limited safety the abbey.

 

Running down the track with the village in sight, Finn yelled “The North Men are coming!  The North Men are coming” The monk at the wooden gates did not seem to hear Finn and continued in conversation with an old villager.  All around the rest of the village were preparing for the oncoming storm, oblivious to threat that would be at their gates before nightfall.  Closer now Finn screamed,” The Northmen are coming!  The ship is almost ashore.”

 

This time the monk at the gates seem to hear Finn, although by the look on his face, the young man was still too far away for him to be understood.  “Get everyone in, the North men are here” pleaded Finn.  He was a lot nearer now and his uttered lines seemed to ring understanding from the acolyte.  He turned quickly and ran into the courtyard, within seconds Finn could hear the bell in the abbey being rung.  Slowing a little, Finn felt a certain amount of relief that he had been able to warn the villagers of the impending disaster.  Although what a handful of untrained villagers and monks could do against a force that had destroyed the Kings Garrison, he did not know.

 

As Finn entered the courtyard he could see Abbott Benedict marshalling the men into some sort of militia.  Using his experiences as a once knight of the realm, he was barking orders for the gates to be shut and barred.  Amidst the confusion he spotted Finn and called to him.  Exhausted the young man stood before the imposing clergy man.  “What have you seen boy?” he commanded.

Through gulps of breath Finn recalled” I saw a dragon ship making for the shore below Fisherman’s Bluff, Abbott.  They had not reached it by the time I made for home, so I do not think they saw me.” 

“Good that gives us a little time at least, “said the aging clergy man.

“Go to Brother Eamon and the others in the church boy, you are too young for the fight here.” Without waiting for a reply Benedict turned and made for the wooden palisade and the group of men waiting for him.  Finn wiped the sweat from his face with his tunic sleeve and went in search of a weapon.  If he were to be killed today then he would go down fighting.  It was not often that he ignored the orders of his elders but today was different.  The Northmen were even now making for this village and everything Finn held dear.

 

With grim determination Finn searched for a weapon.  Anything would do in the hands of an unskilled farm worker.  He noticed a hay rake leaning against the blacksmiths door and picked it up.  Walking towards the squad of workers and monks standing in front of the gate, he felt a determination that he never knew was in him.

“Where do you think you are going Finn, come back here at once,” He heard the familiar tones of the one girl that paid any sort of attention to him.  Turning he saw the figure of Melisandre or Mel as everyone called her.  Hands on slim hips with flaming red hair flying in the wind and green eyes ablaze.  She had that look in face that Finn knew only too well.  “I am going to fight with the brother Abbott and the other men.  I must protect you and the others.  You are the only family I have ever known” replied Finn.

“Get back here with the rest of us Finn.  Leaving the fighting to the men.  We have to go to the church with the others and lock the door until the Northerners are gone,” she said.

“They are not going to leave without our encouragement,” said Finn “You have heard the stories the same as the rest of us.”

“More reason for us to hide,” replied the red-haired girl.

“Go to the church and bar the door Mel.  It’s the only way.” Said Finn.  He turned back toward the Abbotts men, this time determined to ignore any more of her pleas.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw her turn toward the church and the safety it offered.  He wondered if he would ever see her again, this red-haired girl that had always teased him to the point of distraction.

 

Suddenly there was a shout from beyond the now closed wooden gates. “Ho in the fort, I am Lord Ulfgar of Vastervik.  Open your gates and offer up your gold.  This will go much easier on you if you do.”

“We have no gold, we are but people that eak out a meagre living from the land.  We have nothing to give.” Replied Abbott Benedict.  “There is nothing here for you.  Now please leave us in peace.”

There was a moment of silence and Ulfgar replied, “Let us in so that we may look for ourselves.  Do not refuse a second time or we will break the gates down and take what we please.”

 

Within moments there was a tremendous crash at the gates.  Finn guessed that these northerners had brought a battering ram with them.  Again, the gates shuddered against the ram.  The wooden frame started to splinter and crack, it would not be long before the raiders were through and into the yard.

“Steel yourself men,” cried Abbott Benedict.  “Archers to the fore, as soon as the gate breaks fire a volley of arrows.”

Finn watched as the few men that owned a bow walked to the front of the square and knocked their arrows.  The others stood their ground with nervous glances and shuffling of feet.  A third time the gate juddered, there was a great cracking sound and the north men were through the splintered opening.  “Fire arrows,” screamed Abbott Benedict.  The archers fired into the attackers that were running toward them.  A few were felled, but not nearly enough. More of these foreign raiders were spilling through the entrance now, the gate had all but been destroyed. 

 

Finn set his feet in the ground, fear rising in the pit of his stomach.  He gripped the shaft of the rake firmly, knuckles turning white.  The rain had started to fall harder.  The initial wave of raiders was now upon the men of Portdown.  They were outmatched and outnumbered.  These men were armed for battle, chain mail vests, round oak shields and armed with swords, spears and axes.

 

The large long-haired raider that confronted Finn had a long-shafted axe and oaken shield.  He grinned at Finn as he saw the wooden hay rake in the young boy’s hands.  The rain dripping from the north man’s beard just seemed to make raider seem more sinister.  He swayed a little from side to side waiting for Finn to make the first move.  Suddenly there was a shout from near the destroyed entrance, “Kill the old and infirm, the young we will take back with us.”  Finn’s assailant gave him an ugly smile and said, “You going to attack me with that rake boy?”

 

Finn grasped the tool firmly with both hands, closed his eyes and swung as hard as could.  Finn’s whole body shot forward, the Northman moved to his left and hit Finn hard in the back of the head with his shield.  The young man immediately fell to the floor, white hot pain filling his head.  He lifted himself on to his knees.  There was another spark of pain, this time in the side of his head. Then all was darkness.

 

Finn laughed as his father threw him up in the air and caught him before he hit the floor.  They were on their way home from working in the field opposite the cottage they lived in.  Finn’s father was tall and strong, a ramrod straight back and hands the size of shovels.  He lifted his only child with ease, placing him on his shoulders he said, “Come on Finn, best we get home and washed up before supper.  We do not want your mother shouting at us again.”  Finn giggled, because when his mother scolded them, his father would wait for his mother to turn her back and he would imitate her by pulling a funny face and wagging his finger.  This always got them in to even more trouble.

 

They were outside the cottage in no time, Finn could see the blue smoke of his mother’s cook fire coming out of the chimney at the side of the building.  The sun was starting to set on what had been a beautiful summers day and the child could smell the feast that was to come as they rounded the side of the house.

His father lifting him from his shoulders said, “Take your shirt off boy and start scrubbing that dirt off your face, I’ll go and get the soap.”  He entered the back door of the cottage and Finn started to undress.  In no time at all Finn’s father was back with the soap. Both Finn and his father started to wash in the water butt outside the back door.  The water was cold and it ran down Finn’s back.

 

Suddenly pain exploded in his chest, “Wake up you filthy slave” said someone in a gruff voice.  “No sleeping for you.”  Again, the pain, this time in the side of his head.  Opening his eyes, Finn was greeted by blinding white light.  More water splashed over his head, this brought him to his senses almost immediately.  The pain in his head was unbearable, his eyes began to focus and with a sense of dread he started to understand where he was. “Wake up boy,” Said his assailant.  He murmured that he was awake and raised his hand to defend himself for the attack he knew would be coming.  He tried to gain his feet by the floor seemed to be swaying back and forth.  He lifted himself up, all he could see was the sea.  Looking around he realised he was on a longboat and his home was nowhere in sight.

 

“Get up boy,” shouted the barbarian in front of Finn.  He grabbed the young man roughly by his tunic and lifted him with ease to his feet.  Half dragging him to the middle of the boat he set him down on a bench beside a boy of similar age.  The boy to Finns left had hold of a large oar and was rowing for all he was worth.  He indicated the handle in front of Finn and said, “I would row if I were you.  If you don’t then you will get a beating,” As he spoke Finn could see that the dark-haired boy had a split lit and a cut over his right eye.  No doubt from the rough treatment given him by these savages.  Finn grabbed the oar and started rowing in time with the rest of the men.

 

As he continued to row he looked around, outside of the boat all he could see in any direction was the sea.  Inside the boat Finn could see that there were 12 oars on each side, a mast in the middle with the mainsail and yard arm laying on the deck.  Every oar had two men utilising it and by the look of them they were all stolen from Finn’s homeland of Queresh.  The Northern men didn’t seem to be paying them too much attention.  At the stern of the ship stood the barbarian that had knocked Finn out.  He was steering with ship.  At the bow stood an absolute giant of a man with his back to all the others.  He was speaking quietly with another man, who also had long blonde hair and was looking at large crystal he had tied to a piece of leather.  It was a cloudy day but the northerner seemed to be holding the gem up in the direction of the sun.  He spoke to his compatriot, they both nodded in agreement and he put the mysterious stone in a pouch tied to his belt.

 

“What are they doing and why do they not guard us more closely?” asked Finn to the young man next to him.  The giant that had been standing in front of Finn turned and said, “Where would you go if you escaped fool.”  Laughing with his comrades he said, “Look around you, if you are a strong enough swimmer than go ahead and jump in.  Personally, I would stay in the boat.  The sae isn’t too warm today.”  Laughing again he turned back around and continued to speak with his colleague.

Comments