This short story is an entry in the 2001 Soc.Sexuality.Spanking Summer Short Story Contest and is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. Personal/private copies are permitted only if complete including the copyright notice. The author would appreciate your comments
Category: Last Line
I said there were some more ideas running round my skull associated with Tilla's tale. Here's one of them, for better or worse.
I've used the Last Line in the list as it stands, rather than translating it to English (from American). I'd be interested to hear from the SSC authorities as to whether I could have used the translation instead.
The Raid
By
Owen Williamson <Ashthorn@maildulf.demon.co.uk>
I climbed onto the prow as the Dragon Ship ran into the beach. This was a commercial raid, so I'd only got two ships full of warriors, and three knorrs to carry off the spoils. As I balanced there, glancing across at the other Dragon Ship and hoping Lars remembered that the goods were not to be damaged, I heard a drum sounding on the shore. We'd been spotted.
The ship's stem hit sand. Slashing down with my sword I jumped into the water. Celts were already running from their huts into the fight.
I left the battle sounds behind me. A big hut ranged before me. That must be their longhouse, I thought. Heavy cloths covered the entrance. Throwing them aside I charged in.
No sooner had I entered than I was attacked. A Celt warrior came rushing at me, sword waving. Catching his sword blade on mine I clashed our shields. He hadn't got my strength and went backwards. A blow under the arm deprived him of his sword. Was this one worth capture?
I pushed him off. He fell back, onto one of the bales behind him. As he fell his helmet came off, spilling a mass of hair. Too much hair. I looked again at the shape of this warrior. It was a woman.
This little Valkyrie would fetch a good price, once tamed. I knew one good way of taming a woman, at least for a time. I put her over the bales, tail bare, and struck the flat of my sword across her rump. She demonstrated the power of her lungs. She fought, still, so I struck her again. She wriggled, tried to rise, so I set my free hand in her back while I drove sense into her tail. It took time, but eventually she lay still, apart from sobs.
One of the knorrs was to carry off the slaves. I took her there, over my shoulder. Had I known who she was, and how she would change my life I might just have left her red of rear in the storehouse.
The fates decreed otherwise. Once more I should find myself fighting my little Valkyrie. No, we didn't kill each other, but that's a whole different story.
The End
© Copyright to Owen Williamson 2001. You are permitted to make one copy solely for your own use. Any other use, including posting on the world wide web or reproducing this story in any other way, whether for profit or not, without explicit written permission from the author is absolutely prohibited.
Reviews
Sarah Nada <circler73(at)hotmail(dot)com>
I like it that the time and place elements of 'The Raid' come across so clearly in so few words. The twist when the narrator discovers his opponent's identity is also very effective, in that it adds a new kind of suspense to the mix. I would have liked to know more about Tilla, but enjoyed this story overall. (Good use of the last line, too.)
RCG <rcg1574(at)yahoo(dot)com>
A curious story! Is this fantasy or a sort of historical fiction? The last line also fits in nicely.