Post by Ringulf on Jan 19, 2010 17:27:20 GMT -5
Smidja Darkwater squinted his eyes as he looked up to the top of the mast. The sun had dropped below the yard that held the huge reddish tanbark square sail that drove the Harrmarr through the waves. He could see the black form of a sea horse in reverse as it was silhouetted in the late afternoon sun.
She was no wolfship he thought to himself but the Harrmarr was faster and better built than most Skandian knarrs and allot more seaworthy than those long narrow warships that were mainly built for rowing and raiding not sailing and carrying cargo.
Even now he could hear the gurgle at the cutwater as the bow knifed through the waves. They were headed roughly south, southwest on a starboard tack, the wind dead out of the north.
"She likes tew take her vind over de qvarter dat's how she sails best!" Smidja called out to the man at the steerboard.
"Ya Captain she really hass a bone in her teet now!" The big blond helmsman called back over the wind.
Both men smiled with the exhilaration of the movement they felt as the ship hobby-horsed back and forth through the waves.
"Iss a goot day tew be at sea eh Aribjorn? The helmsman called to the young man standing at the port shroud, head lifted to catch the wind on his face and in his hair.
"Ya Gunner iss no place I'd radder be den here for sure!" He called back over his shoulder.
But in his heart Aribjorn did have one other place he could think of that would give him greater pleasure and that was the Araluen Battleschool.
He was finally going, he had finally convinced his father and after many months of correspondence and negotiation he was on his way to fulfill his dreams.
He was not sure exactly what was in store for him but his head was full of the stories that had been told to him about the glories of knight hood, dressed in shining armor and doing battle astride mighty warhorses. He had heard them since he was a young boy by the one eyed thrall he had befriended and took as his manservant.
Ogmund had been a skald and had been enslaved many years before Aribjorn was born. He had traveled to the west on many raids and had been fascinated by the culture of the Araluen people.
But the Norns had been cruel to him and he ran afoul of his chieftain and when he set free the prisoners captured on that raid, his chieftain took out his left eye and took away his rights as a Skandian Karl and forced him into a life of slavery himself to make up for his treasonous act.
He was brutally treated until Aribjorn, the new Jarl's son, took pity on him and pleaded for his life. Ogmund became his servant and was grateful to him.
The nervous nickering from the hold brought Aribjorn back to reality as he looked down through the great rectangular hatch to see the dozen Skandian horses secured below decks and the few sailors that were attempting to muck the specially made shipboard stalls That contained all four of the small shaggy stallions and the six equally small mares.
They were a gift to the King of Araluen from Jarl Haakon for breeding purposes. It seemed the King was interested in the fine little horses for there unique size and endurance for the possibility of adding their qualities to the special ranger mounts and also the plan he had of utilizing them for the scouts and Highlanders afield in the mountainous areas of his kingdom.
The ship lurched suddenly in an unexpected direction as a rogue wave, out of pattern with the rest slammed into her slightly afore the port beam.
Aribjorn standing on the port side abaft the beam (behind dead middle of the vessel) Took a goodly amount of spray as the wave slipped up the side, over the gunwale and and blew off in a rooster tail as it mixed with the fresh breeze.
Aribjorn had been to sea many times before so it was nothing new to him to receive a dousing at the hands of Ran. And he good naturedly turned and laughed as the men in the stern howled at the soaking he had received.
It made him think though of this ship and how he would miss the "Sea horse" or "Harrmarr" as it is called in the Skandian tongue, And captain Smidja, his fathers oldest and most trusted friend.
He looked at the familiar face of the man standing across on the starboard side staring out to sea with his one good eye.
Aribjorn was thankful in all this unfamiliar territory that at least his friend Ogmund would be near at hand to guide him.
She was no wolfship he thought to himself but the Harrmarr was faster and better built than most Skandian knarrs and allot more seaworthy than those long narrow warships that were mainly built for rowing and raiding not sailing and carrying cargo.
Even now he could hear the gurgle at the cutwater as the bow knifed through the waves. They were headed roughly south, southwest on a starboard tack, the wind dead out of the north.
"She likes tew take her vind over de qvarter dat's how she sails best!" Smidja called out to the man at the steerboard.
"Ya Captain she really hass a bone in her teet now!" The big blond helmsman called back over the wind.
Both men smiled with the exhilaration of the movement they felt as the ship hobby-horsed back and forth through the waves.
"Iss a goot day tew be at sea eh Aribjorn? The helmsman called to the young man standing at the port shroud, head lifted to catch the wind on his face and in his hair.
"Ya Gunner iss no place I'd radder be den here for sure!" He called back over his shoulder.
But in his heart Aribjorn did have one other place he could think of that would give him greater pleasure and that was the Araluen Battleschool.
He was finally going, he had finally convinced his father and after many months of correspondence and negotiation he was on his way to fulfill his dreams.
He was not sure exactly what was in store for him but his head was full of the stories that had been told to him about the glories of knight hood, dressed in shining armor and doing battle astride mighty warhorses. He had heard them since he was a young boy by the one eyed thrall he had befriended and took as his manservant.
Ogmund had been a skald and had been enslaved many years before Aribjorn was born. He had traveled to the west on many raids and had been fascinated by the culture of the Araluen people.
But the Norns had been cruel to him and he ran afoul of his chieftain and when he set free the prisoners captured on that raid, his chieftain took out his left eye and took away his rights as a Skandian Karl and forced him into a life of slavery himself to make up for his treasonous act.
He was brutally treated until Aribjorn, the new Jarl's son, took pity on him and pleaded for his life. Ogmund became his servant and was grateful to him.
The nervous nickering from the hold brought Aribjorn back to reality as he looked down through the great rectangular hatch to see the dozen Skandian horses secured below decks and the few sailors that were attempting to muck the specially made shipboard stalls That contained all four of the small shaggy stallions and the six equally small mares.
They were a gift to the King of Araluen from Jarl Haakon for breeding purposes. It seemed the King was interested in the fine little horses for there unique size and endurance for the possibility of adding their qualities to the special ranger mounts and also the plan he had of utilizing them for the scouts and Highlanders afield in the mountainous areas of his kingdom.
The ship lurched suddenly in an unexpected direction as a rogue wave, out of pattern with the rest slammed into her slightly afore the port beam.
Aribjorn standing on the port side abaft the beam (behind dead middle of the vessel) Took a goodly amount of spray as the wave slipped up the side, over the gunwale and and blew off in a rooster tail as it mixed with the fresh breeze.
Aribjorn had been to sea many times before so it was nothing new to him to receive a dousing at the hands of Ran. And he good naturedly turned and laughed as the men in the stern howled at the soaking he had received.
It made him think though of this ship and how he would miss the "Sea horse" or "Harrmarr" as it is called in the Skandian tongue, And captain Smidja, his fathers oldest and most trusted friend.
He looked at the familiar face of the man standing across on the starboard side staring out to sea with his one good eye.
Aribjorn was thankful in all this unfamiliar territory that at least his friend Ogmund would be near at hand to guide him.