Chapter 1
Death Sneer
All the wounds we bear to
leave us like worms on a fishing hook; a spirit fighting against what the
Fates give us.
Ancient Esterblud
Proverb
The young warrior stood alone on the trail, watching
as low clouds swept over the forest of dry lellowtere trees in the distance. A black
helmet with long, pointed cheek and nose plates covered the
warrior’s head, which gave the fitting impression of a metal
death’s head. Adorned with an elaborately decorated, golden image
of an Estercetus , on the helmet’s crest, it was the sea
serpent symbol of the Esterblud people. The warrior’s tunic was
green with red edging, revealing his membership within his king’s
personal guard. Spun from the finest Vulthnal wool, it covered most of his chain mail armor. The uniform, worn
proudly, provided protection from the cold lands he patrolled.
Standing motionless, the man waited for the riders
he had seen earlier as he walked from the village. He rested his
large left hand comfortably on the pommel of his longsword , which hung from his waist, nearly extending to
the ground. Encased in the leather scabbard,
his newly forged sword blade carried finely detailed engravings of
the beasts and humans in battle. The Esterblud warrior slid his
right hand down the leather baudrik belt, his
fingers absently feeling the knots of the belt which looped over
his shoulder. Each knot representing a great battle completed,
either by killing an enemy or beast. The warrior felt the six knots
of his previous victories, each reminding him of his superior
skills and training, for the Esterbluds were proud and fearless. To
his tribe, death in battle meant joining the greatest of warrior
spirits who had gone before to the sky realm, an honor higher than any other.
Echoes of hoof beats had reached the man’s ears before he saw the ossanes riding at full gallop toward him. Appearing over
the forest ridge, the animals long, muscular necks and elongated
heads, obscured the riders. The warrior quickly recalled the smell
of the ugly beasts which provided the primary transportation on Kamin. But his eyes focused upon the riders. Even
at the great distance, the Esterblud readily identified the golden helmets and blue tunics of his enemy. The
farmers of the area were correct in their rumors about the nearby
Aberffraw raiders. A quick count revealed six of the enemy
approaching the village. Unlike the warriors who rode them, their
mounts had no armor. While not good odds, the vulnerability left
the young giant confident. A quick
consideration of the situation revealed he had little choice but to
stand his ground since only he stood between these raiders and the
small village of Iffwer . The rest of the
Esterblud warriors of his tribe were far to the south, riding
against the main force of Aberffraw along the coast, not far from
the large city of Gramcan . Tasked to act as a
scout by his father, the young warrior now forgot his resentment to
such unworthy duties, like searching for the enemy in an obscure
village. Now, he faced this enemy.
He thought about retreating back to the village for
his ossane to ride to his father, reporting
this enemy band. The man shook his head . While
logic might dictate such action at times, it was unworthy of a real warrior . Decided, he slid the shield and two
spears from behind his back, unhooking them from the baudrik belt.
He pushed the iron spear tips into the hard soil, then slid his arm
through the straps on the back of the round wood and metal shield. Standing like a statue, the
giant man held steady, watching the oncoming riders as the echoes
of their hoofbeats grew louder. The rhythm of the sound
reminded him of the chants of his tribe when
sang in homage to the Estercetus , their
sea serpent protector. He softly sang the song
to the sound of the oncoming hoof beats.
The party of Aberffraw raiders slowed their mounts when they spotted the lone figure standing in
the middle of the trail. The
Death Sneer
All the wounds we bear to
leave us like worms on a fishing hook; a spirit fighting against what the
Fates give us.
Ancient Esterblud
Proverb
The young warrior stood alone on the trail, watching
as low clouds swept over the forest of dry lellowtere trees in the distance. A black
helmet with long, pointed cheek and nose plates covered the
warrior’s head, which gave the fitting impression of a metal
death’s head. Adorned with an elaborately decorated, golden image
of an Estercetus , on the helmet’s crest, it was the sea
serpent symbol of the Esterblud people. The warrior’s tunic was
green with red edging, revealing his membership within his king’s
personal guard. Spun from the finest Vulthnal wool, it covered most of his chain mail armor. The uniform, worn
proudly, provided protection from the cold lands he patrolled.
Standing motionless, the man waited for the riders
he had seen earlier as he walked from the village. He rested his
large left hand comfortably on the pommel of his longsword , which hung from his waist, nearly extending to
the ground. Encased in the leather scabbard,
his newly forged sword blade carried finely detailed engravings of
the beasts and humans in battle. The Esterblud warrior slid his
right hand down the leather baudrik belt, his
fingers absently feeling the knots of the belt which looped over
his shoulder. Each knot representing a great battle completed,
either by killing an enemy or beast. The warrior felt the six knots
of his previous victories, each reminding him of his superior
skills and training, for the Esterbluds were proud and fearless. To
his tribe, death in battle meant joining the greatest of warrior
spirits who had gone before to the sky realm, an honor higher than any other.
Echoes of hoof beats had reached the man’s ears before he saw the ossanes riding at full gallop toward him. Appearing over
the forest ridge, the animals long, muscular necks and elongated
heads, obscured the riders. The warrior quickly recalled the smell
of the ugly beasts which provided the primary transportation on Kamin. But his eyes focused upon the riders. Even
at the great distance, the Esterblud readily identified the golden helmets and blue tunics of his enemy. The
farmers of the area were correct in their rumors about the nearby
Aberffraw raiders. A quick count revealed six of the enemy
approaching the village. Unlike the warriors who rode them, their
mounts had no armor. While not good odds, the vulnerability left
the young giant confident. A quick
consideration of the situation revealed he had little choice but to
stand his ground since only he stood between these raiders and the
small village of Iffwer . The rest of the
Esterblud warriors of his tribe were far to the south, riding
against the main force of Aberffraw along the coast, not far from
the large city of Gramcan . Tasked to act as a
scout by his father, the young warrior now forgot his resentment to
such unworthy duties, like searching for the enemy in an obscure
village. Now, he faced this enemy.
He thought about retreating back to the village for
his ossane to ride to his father, reporting
this enemy band. The man shook his head . While
logic might dictate such action at times, it was unworthy of a real warrior . Decided, he slid the shield and two
spears from behind his back, unhooking them from the baudrik belt.
He pushed the iron spear tips into the hard soil, then slid his arm
through the straps on the back of the round wood and metal shield. Standing like a statue, the
giant man held steady, watching the oncoming riders as the echoes
of their hoofbeats grew louder. The rhythm of the sound
reminded him of the chants of his tribe when
sang in homage to the Estercetus , their
sea serpent protector. He softly sang the song
to the sound of the oncoming hoof beats.
The party of Aberffraw raiders slowed their mounts when they spotted the lone figure standing in
the middle of the trail. The
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