Erik's Journey
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- Those will be my last words to her, I thought as I tried desperately to bucket water out of our longship, the Visund, while half the other raiders onboard reached for the supplies and ropes on deck. Our ship had hit an unseen floating object that had left a gaping hole in the side of the ship.After a long hourof tirelessly bucketing water, Captain Frode shouted excitedly,“At last! We have saved the ship and ourselves!”“Hazar!” the crew moaned in union; exhaustion filled their voices as they fell down onto the deck.I turned to the ship’s port side, and my last hopes drained from my soul. Massive dark clouds like the smoke of ten erupting volcanoes poured over the ocean half a rost away. Occasionally, a thunderous Boom! would echo across the sea or a bright Crack! of white light would pierce the inky blackness. It was inevitable, we weren’t going to escape this vicious, hungry monster.
- Erik's Journey
- I line up in thearray of grief-stricken Vikings with a sunken heart. Leif Igouf, my village’sbest sailor and my annoying older brother, had been found dead in his room earlythis morning. My mother, Hilda, wailed as she lifted the longbow and sent theflaming arrow through the air, which landed with a soft thunk on thecremation boat. The villagers watched respectfully as the flame slowly engulfedthe entire boat, leaving nothing but charred wood and his memory. “Erik,” a calm voice beckoned behind me, “it’s time.”
- Because of Leif’s devastating demise, I, as his younger brother, had been chosen to replace him on an expedition to the trading village of Toft. “I will return soon,” I promised my mother.
- Do not fear, Mother
- Move! Hurry!
- After an hour of hopeless sailing, trying to get away from the oncoming tempest, the storm had caught up and was now minutes away from swallowing us whole. Hundreds of sounds pulsated around me, screaming cries of bloodthirst and longing.“Son.” The thunderous words easily reverberated above the storm, “Wh-who said that?” I stammered nervously.“It’s me my boy, your father.” My mother told me stories as the years passed since he left; how he was the only outsider, but by far the greatest sailor the village had ever known. “Dad? W-where are you?” I asked cautiously, not knowing if I actually wanted to know. Suddenly, a tall man with long wavy hair and deep brown eyes was standing on the ship’s deck. Around me,sailors gasped in shock. “My name is Njord, god of ships and sailing and thisis my son, Erik,” he placed his hand on my shoulder. “I am here to help you pass through the storm!” he shouted above the ferocious rising wind. “Now don’tjust sit there, grab your oars and man the sails!” His voice easily commanded the Vikings around the ship, newfound confidence filling their actions knowing that they now had a god on their side. I turned towards Njord, “why are you really here?” I asked confusedly. His reply was short and simple, “I can’t lose another son.”
- I am Njord! And this is My Son, Erik
- Goodbye Erik
- The next half hour was a blur. Mountainous waves crashed down on themselves as rain hammered down onto the ship and cries of pain from pulling the oars tore through the night. Eventually, when the storm had almost passed and they could see a bright beach of golden sand, Njord bellowed, “now is our chance! Row harder everyone!” ***I lay sprawled on the crystalline sand, utterly exhausted. I opened my eyes withgreat trouble to see a figure standing above me. “Goodbye Erik” Njord whispered, and left......
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