Date: Sun, 23 Feb 2003 09:03:42 -0500 From: Tom Cup Subject: Raptors by Richard Dean - Chapter 1 GM - Y/F- A/Y - Historical Raptors by Richard Dean, copyright 2001, 2002 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving alternative sexual relationships. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ Support your favorite Nifty writers. They write for you, please write to them. ************************************************************************ >From the Author: Thanks My special thanks to Mr. Tom Cup, my mentor/advisor and friend. His patient advice and insightful thoughts have given impetus to a fledgling author. He has enriched my life beyond my expectation. Dedication: I dedicate this story to a very special friend in Los Angeles, "lth". He is in all facets my mental equal. He challenges and encourages me as no other can. He is my `brother'. I love you, "lth". ************************************************************************ Raptors by Richard Dean Chapter 1 A Viking We Will Go Nearing dawn a damp chill permeated the miasma of fog as it rolled in blanketing the fjord. On shore with waves lapping at the stony, pebbled waters edge paced Vorni Bjornsson (Vernee Byernsohn) and his grandson, Arne. It was a sleepless, restless night for them both. Upon the dawning first light of day, the shore would become a bustle of men, equipment, food stores and sundry supplies necessary to load the Longships and prepare for another successful voyage. For two long years, 13 year old, Arne had prepared himself in mind, body and spirit for this day. This event. He would join the community as a novice Viking. His grandfather took him under his wing and tutelage to prepare him for the grueling sea voyage, the rigorous fighting skills necessary to outmaneuver his adversaries, and the wiles to defend himself from some of the drunken louts who, without women, would look with favor on the youth and beauty of this fledgling Norseboy. If the raids were successful, Vorni knew that their attention would be drawn to the captives, the women and children. Until that time Arne had been told, time after time, to keep his eyes and ears open. Failing that he would become known as a catamite: a boy used as a substitute woman. "I've trained and prepared you as well as I know how, my boy. You've been diligent and alert to every task and lesson I've set upon you. I still fear for your safety. You are the last male heir and I can't stand the thought of losing you for two long years or more, while you ache for adventure in foreign lands. You do not have to go, my boy. Your father and two older brothers left only three days ago to prepare the way. We have no need for more wealth or more land. There is no shame in staying behind and helping me, your mother and sister tend to the farm." "Grandfather, I love you with all that is dear. I must say, though, that I hated you for every rock and stone you made me carry to build up my musculature, for every step you made me climb those hills and mountains to build my legs, for every cut and scrape, I got when you stabbed me with your damned wooden sword or dagger. Because of you, my grandfather, I am now a man. I'm stronger and taller than my brother, Ralf, who has two summers on me. There is no one in the village who can outfight me, except you, my grandfather. Well...I've never challenged my father or oldest brother, but from all of the others, its no contest. You said so yourself, my grandfather. When I step onto that Longship, I step onto it in your name and the name of Odin, as my protector. I want more victories to be added to your name, when you are laid to rest on your funeral ship to Valhalla." "I could ask no more than that, Arne, my boy. I confess to many nights of worry and concern for your welfare. You come from good strong stock." Chuckling to himself, Vorni added, "Did I ever tell you the story about your mother when she defended you, your brothers and sister, while your father and I were gone Viking?" "Our family had a large tract of land encompassing the lowland of the farm, to the rising hills and mountainous area all the way to the fjord. Of course, we've added to our holdings since then, but let me get on with the story. Your mother, who is an able and strong minded woman, was left with you three boys, all under 10 summers and your sister who was still suckling, if I remember correctly. Arne, you must have been 4 or 5 summers, so you were helping her with chores near the house, the others were tending the sheep or cows. We may have had two or three slaves at that time, I really can't remember, but one day 5 nasty, grubby looking fellows came up to the house and asked for shelter and food. Oh before they came up to the house, your mother noticed them walking and looking about the place, she thought they might be raiders, so she sent you to get your brothers and bring them into the house. Once all of you boys were inside the house, she left the baby with you lads, and walked outside to meet them. Wrapped in her shawl she asked them what they wanted. They asked for food and shelter. She told them she would not allow them shelter, but she would give them food, and for them to be on their way. One of them said, {"Mother, we can take what we want. We don't have to beg." "Yes you can. But first, before you even think about that, let me tell you something. You'll have to step over my dead body to get near my home or babies. If one man or all of you even dare to touch me or mine, with whatever you use to touch us, you will have it severed and lain on the ground. Odin is my protector. Should you be lucky and kill me, then you will have to face my eldest son, who will stand to defend and protect his. Should you be lucky and kill him, my next eldest will present himself before you and stand and defend. By that time there will be only one left alive, and he will be mortally wounded. Think hard on your choice. Food or death!" "Mother, you leave us no choice, feed us and we will be on our way. The fire and strength of Odin shows in your eyes and resolve."} Your mother, Arne, called out to the lot of you to bring out food and water, which you did. Standing around them with fire in your eyes and axes and knives in your hands, you watched them eat and depart like dogs with their tails between their legs." "Hear me clearly, Arne. Take this tale and remember it well. When a challenger confronts you, give him a choice. Come to you as a friend, or go from you in death. Do not wound, kill! A wounded man will confront you again, sooner or later. Kill the offender the first time and you are done with it." ************************************************************************ This story is part of the TomCup.com Library. Send comments to: richard@tomcup.com ************************************************************************