Vikings

Vikings

Captain Sean Isakson looked at the remnants of his boat's forward mast.  As he surveyed the damage, he felt completely alive.  His crew looked up at him from their rowing benches.  With the sails gone, only the muscle of these mortal men stood in defiance of the gods.

He knew that it would not be long before the real battle began.  The back side of the storm was always much worse.  He smiled in anticipation.

"Warriors," he said to his crew. "The struggle has been great. Generations will sing of your valor in the face of such angry gods!"

"Take a moment now and reach out to the loved ones you have left behind.  Soon we battle.  We will shake fists at our mighty adversary and the gods will come to understand what it means to fight a Viking!"

For a few moments, it was deathly still.  A silent beam of light broke through the clouds and shined down on the brave explorers.  The men felt the salute from above; a sign of respect from the immortals.

As they slipped out of the eye of the storm, a slight chilling breeze whiffed across the broken deck.  Black clouds reclaimed the sky as an icy rain began to fall. The storm gathered strength quickly and soon waves began to break over the splintered railings.

Isakson faced the oncoming storm without fear.  The ocean had become a giant wall of water hurdling towards them. 

Turning back to his men, the captain raised his arms over his head and shouted above the roar of the building storm "To battle men! Row for your lives!  Row for your fellow warriors! Row for glory!"

As one, they leaned into their oars.  The boat leaped forward.

The gods had a fight on their hands.

(word count 298)