Wednesday's Three Word Wednesday
The words over at Three word Wednesday are capture, jinx and qualify.
Vikings
I am captured by Vikings.
They bind my wrists in slimy ropes and toss me into the bow of their stinking Viking ship, where I can make out the outline of the ship’s dragon head. It’s smiling at me.
I shield my head to cry and fall into an anxious sleep, tears glistening my cheeks.
I awake to the sounds of creaking oars in a synchronized symphony of noise. We’ve set sail and the sun is beginning to taint the sky in pinks and pale yellows toward the east.
We’re headed west.
I stand, try to stretch as much as the ropes across my wrists allow. A crew member growls, leaves his post and comes at me.
I head-butt him, breaking his nose. He wails, twists, sends a splay of blood across the other Vikings.
The Viking leader chuckles. He stands nearly 7 feet tall, dirty red beard to his chest. He’s swaddled in wolf pelts, a rough wool kilt. A heavy iron seaxe hangs from his hip.
He points at me, letting his index finger motion me forward. It seems my violence qualifies me to join their clan.
They untie me, give me a filthy kilt, a moldy goat pelt for warmth.
Lastly, they give me a heavy iron sword and leather sheath, which I take out and run through the leader’s heart, killing him instantly.
The other Vikings sit at the oars, stunned.
I bark orders in a thick, foreign tongue. I tell them to make for land as I clean my blade with the goat pelt.
We’ve got lands to pillage. As long as I don’t jinx things.
I’m prone to motion sickness, and I can feel my legs begin to wobble, bereft of the adrenalin rush of the past few hours.
Vikings
I am captured by Vikings.
They bind my wrists in slimy ropes and toss me into the bow of their stinking Viking ship, where I can make out the outline of the ship’s dragon head. It’s smiling at me.
I shield my head to cry and fall into an anxious sleep, tears glistening my cheeks.
I awake to the sounds of creaking oars in a synchronized symphony of noise. We’ve set sail and the sun is beginning to taint the sky in pinks and pale yellows toward the east.
We’re headed west.
I stand, try to stretch as much as the ropes across my wrists allow. A crew member growls, leaves his post and comes at me.
I head-butt him, breaking his nose. He wails, twists, sends a splay of blood across the other Vikings.
The Viking leader chuckles. He stands nearly 7 feet tall, dirty red beard to his chest. He’s swaddled in wolf pelts, a rough wool kilt. A heavy iron seaxe hangs from his hip.
He points at me, letting his index finger motion me forward. It seems my violence qualifies me to join their clan.
They untie me, give me a filthy kilt, a moldy goat pelt for warmth.
Lastly, they give me a heavy iron sword and leather sheath, which I take out and run through the leader’s heart, killing him instantly.
The other Vikings sit at the oars, stunned.
I bark orders in a thick, foreign tongue. I tell them to make for land as I clean my blade with the goat pelt.
We’ve got lands to pillage. As long as I don’t jinx things.
I’m prone to motion sickness, and I can feel my legs begin to wobble, bereft of the adrenalin rush of the past few hours.
Comments
Excellent as always.
Wait... is that pirate?
Never mind.
Great story.
fired blue vase
Great little story. Really enjoyed it.
loved it!
http://fart-in-a-jar.blogspot.com/2009/08/confused.html
Nice writing, when I read through it, lot of it rhymed:) and I love rhymes...
Nasty buggers, those Vikings. Better not to be taken alive.
Vikings can be dangerous... good that a takeover was done and a new captain took charge! :D
lovely!
wish we could all be this ruthless!
I used a head but in my story too. I can write about them, but being 5 ft nothing tall, the most I get to head butt is an elbow while walking through a crowd, and even that is not my doing.