Uthred The Viking
Chapter 1: The start...
Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Historical, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, BBW, Big Breasts,
Desc: Historical Sex Story: Chapter 1: The start... - Uthred was sent out into the world to make his fortune and prove is manhood. This is his story. (previously released as Viking summer but i was unhappy with it. a proof reader has worked wonders with it)
My name is Uthred, I am 18 years old and I am the son of Uthred of Verdok. My father had given me a ship and men enough to travel south to make my fortune. I had taken several of my boyhood friends. We had fought in several battles as warriors on my father’s ships, and were ready to make our way in the world. It was the Viking way, to send the eldest son into the world to make his fortune and to make him a man.
We were fifty strong and armed to the teeth. The crew was made up of thirty foot soldiers that doubled up as rowers and seventeen warriors, including myself. The other three men were Vegoff, the shipmaster, Gudvær, his understudy and Jarun who doubled as a cabin boy that doubled as my servant and ships cook.
We had been rowing for almost three days before we spotted a likely looking place to stage our first attack. Our food and water supplies were waning and we needed to restock. Viking Long boats are fast boats, they travel well over most types of sea but they have little storage space.
This battle would be my first as leader; I had always fought under the leadership of a lord or shipmaster before. I was eager to show that I could lead my men into battle, eager to show I was man enough to prove my father right. My servant, Juran, helped me strap on my armour and both of my swords. I left my helmet until last as it made my head so hot and sweaty in the summer sun.
The oarsmen pulled harder as the ship started to approach the beach; from my fighting platform, at the prow of the ship, I could see activity in the village. They were getting ready to fight; that made me happy. It was ages since we had been treated to a good man to man fight. My ship had fifty men in it; thirty pulled on the oars, twenty including myself and the shipmaster were ready to do battle. It would be our job to protect the ship while the rowers got ready to fight. It was impossible to row in chain mail!
I was eager to get as near to the beach as possible. Many good warriors have lost their lives by dropping into deep water while wearing heavy armour. Plus when you are waist deep in water it’s harder to fight.
I pulled on my helmet and unsheathed my long sword; we were only seconds from the beach. There was a shout of panic and several of my warriors at the front of the ship raised their shields. I heard the arrows before I saw them. They whizzed through the air. I slipped my arm into the loops of my own shield and ran forward, helping to protect my men. The arrows thumped into our hide covered shields and none found home in human flesh!
The ship bit the sand bank and I made sure I was the first warrior over the side; the men appreciated a leader that acted like a true warrior. It gave them confidence.
The Saxons ran straight at us, a huge mistake on their part. They were farmers and fishermen and were armed as such; the first attacker was armed with just a fishing spear. He thrust it at me and I parried it with my shield. My sword swung but I was feinting, the fisherman danced and I thrust, the tip of my sword punctured his stomach, his scream rang in my ears. The next thrust of my sword took his breath away, quickly followed by his life. The water around me was now alive with my men, there were at least fifteen of us on the shore now and we moved forward. It was important for us to keep the villagers away from the long boat as my foot soldiers disembarked.
Another man rushed toward me; he had a pitchfork. He thrust at my head and I dodged to the left, he thrust toward my torso and my shield took the impact. The barbs of the fork stuck in the hide and wood of the shield and my sword chopped the head from the fork. The farmer tried to hit me with the broken shaft of his fork, as if it would hurt me.
My sword’s sharp tip pieced his throat and blood sprayed out into the sunlight. At the same time, I felt someone rush me from the right; I automatically thrust out my shield and heard a cry. The man had lost his footing and my sword hissed as it swung toward him; one blow to his stomach ended that man’s life. His hands tried to grab the guts that spilled from the gash I left in is stomach but his life and blood pulsed out of him.
The fisher men died on that beach, the beach that gave them food and life became their death bed. We were warriors, we were vikings that had fought in many battles. We were armed for war; my men had swords, axes and spears. We wore helmets, leg guards and chain mail. We battled toward the sand and I was, for one, more than happy to get my feet on dry solid ground. They did not really know how to fight; if they had they would not have charged. They would have waited for us to attack. A man weighed down with armour will soon tire running up a beach.
The retreated and that was good for me and my as the foot soldiers would have more time to prepare and meet us on the beach.
I saw the fishermen congregating near one of the huts that lined the beach. I knew they would charge. They were leaderless and came at us slowly. It gave us time to prepare.
“Shield wall,” I cried, “shield wall, line up on me!”
My men knew what to do, they quickly formed the wall. Our shields slotted against each other over lapping. I sheathed my long sword and unsheathed my short sword. A long sword is idea for open fighting but the short sword was better for close hand-to-hand fights and especially in the shield wall. Other men sheathed there sword and axes and soon we were all armed with short swords or spears.
The Saxons ran at us, over one hundred of them against fifteen or so of us, I prayed to Odin, the god of war, that the rowers would meet us soon. We were outnumbered and as good as my men were I could not afford to lose any of them. My little war band was small enough as it was.
“Brace yourselves men!” I called out and felt the warriors either side of me tense. As they got closer, my men started to hit the rims of their shields with the hilts of their swords and they shouted curses and oaths. The din was amazing and was done to scare the enemy. The came at us, I could see the fear on their faces as they got closer.
They hit us face on, our shields held strong. The shields were made to protect a warrior from sword and axe blows, these men had fishing spears, pitchforks and wooden staves. As the force of the attack rocked us back a step my sword slid under the rim of my shield and I hacked, slashed and thrust into anything I could find.
There was screaming from the other side of the shield wall but we held strong. The second attack rocked us backwards again. The sand around our feet was red with blood. This time the Saxons held against us and we had to protect ourselves from the thrusts of their spears. I hacked and tried to bring death to their numbers. Other men stabbed their spears over the wall of shields; we spread death amongst those villagers it was a bloodletting.
I knew we were in a full on battle when the blood started to spray. Our rowers did not let us down, they hit the villagers from the side and the pressure was released on our shield wall. We started to move forward. The Saxons ran, it was their second mistake that day. My warriors chased them, hacking and slashing. I was flanked my two of my finest warriors, Bergvid and Halfdan. We moved up the shore dispatching any one that stood in our way. It was a killing field and we revelled in the death, it was our job, it was our way of life.
The Saxons that were left had started to bunch at the top of the beach, where the sand turned into solid ground. There were ten or twelve men there, all big, all armed with pitchforks or spears. The three of us charged at them and with a few well practised strokes had put them all to the sword. When we had finished I looked around at the little village. It was now a battleground. My men had finished their job well; they were after all well practised at the art of war.
Some of the Saxons were moaning as they died in the sand, the rest of the village was deserted. I looked at my shield and noticed a chip in its face. I let it slip to the ground. I took my helmet off and wiped the sweat from my head with my arm. I dropped the shiny horned helmet to the floor and it was met by my chain mail. A brief look around told me that none of my men had suffered more than flesh wounds and those would heal. My shipmaster had an understudy and he was good at healing the wounded, as was Jarun. They were already tending to the injured.
We looted the village but the pickings were slim. We got food, beer and wine. The children and woman had deserted the village and even though I sent a few men into the nearby forest, they could not be found anywhere. We loaded all of the plunder into the hold of the ship and some of the men pushed us backward into deeper water.
It was our first attack on the coast of Britain but would not be our last...
That evening we pulled up on a small island off the south coast of Britain and I posted guards to make sure our feast was not disturbed. Our campfires would attract attention and I was not looking to be over run in the middle of the night. I was not sure if the island was inhabited but it was not worth running any risks.
The men roasted some pigs and opened some casks of beer we had taken from the village. I called a council of war with my top five warriors, they were trusted men, men I had known for all my life. We were here to make our fortunes and to take from the Saxons all we could. Our lords, who already had made their homes in the north of England, would be eager to pay for slaves and slaves were easy to come by. My father was a Lord and it was he who sent me out into the world to make my fortune.
We planned to head down the coast and attack every village we came across. My men need more fights to hone their skills and also we need to plunder some treasures. When the trip was over I needed to pay off the crew and to do that I need to find stuff to trade. Tools and weapons were always good items for trading. Obviously gold and silver would be nice, but most of the villagers were poor. Anyone with any treasure would have money enough for their own guards.
The following morning we rowed out into a deeper channel and soon spied a fishing boat through the mist. There would be little to plunder but the battle would be good for the men. My shipmaster, Vegoff, stopped the oarsmen long before the fishing vessel could hear them and used the sails and the tide to bring us level with the boat.
We were on them before they knew about it. Some of my men threw grappling hooks onto the masts. Hooking the barbed hooks over the spars made sure the boat could not drift away from us. There were six fishermen on the small boat.
One of the man jumped into the water and tried to make his escape. The others tried to fight but they stood no chance. I boarded the boat along with Halfdan, my oldest friend; we had known each other all of our eighteen years. I dispatched three of the men with ease and Halfdan made short work of the other two. They were not fighters and had no weapons as such.
There was little of value on the boat, apart from a hold full of fresh fish, but it would be useful in the future so we towed it behind us as our sails led us south.
As the wind propelled us over the choppy sea, I looked down over the crew. Most of the men were well known to me, a few were picked for their strength on the oars. Vegoff the shipmaster had been steering ships in my father’s fleet for many years; he was by far the oldest of the crew. Vegoff had many talents; he was a fine shipmaster and warrior. He was a well-practiced healer and a great armourer. I was sure he was made my shipmaster as much to protect me and guide me as he was to work for me.
I was sure that I could learn a lot of the old warrior so I always listened to his wise words.
The winds were kind to us and as evening approached one of the men, stationed by the dragon’s head at the front of the ship cried out that land was near. We headed for the spit of land and I sent five men over the side to check that we were not inviting an ambush.
The men gave the all clear and we beached our ship. We made our camp that night and feasted on fish from the trawler’s haul. We posted guards and I took my turn. I was eager to show that as well as their leader I was also a warrior and fighter.
The following morning I sent scouts out to see if there were any villages in the vicinity, which might be worth raiding. They returned and brought good news. There was a village was less than a quarter of a mile away. We approached the village slowly; there was a good coverage of trees that hid us. The village was not guarded, and I knew we had the upper hand straight away.
We broke cover and walked with purpose toward the nearest stand of huts. We were only yards from them when the alarm was sounded. The first men rushed us without thinking and died as a result. It was carnage, they knew little about fighting. Some had swords others had farming tools and my men played with them. They outnumbered us but we did not worry about that. A warrior is worth a dozen farmers or fishermen in battle!
The only man that put up any sort of fight was the village blacksmith. He was huge man with arms that showed his trade. They were scarred with burns and thick with muscle. He swung a huge hammer, his first blow smashed the shield of one of my men and he hit the ground heavily. Halfdan rushed the smith, but was swatted like a fly by the huge hammer. That hammer looked dangerous as it was swung with ease by the big smith!
My men backed away as the smith swung his hammer with menace. I sheathed my long sword and took out my short sword. I moved in toward the smith. He snarled at me and cursed in a language I did not understand and I snarled back. We moved around each other; the rest of the fighting had stopped as we danced the dance of war. The smith moved in fast, the hammer whirled over my head and I felt the hair on my head move as the smith just missed me.
I thrust at his huge stomach; his leather apron deflected my blade. We parted and he moved in again, this time he aimed lower and I let my shield take the blow. There was an almighty clang as the hammerhead hit the boss of the shield. My arm was deadened by the blow; and my shield dropped. He swung again and I had to shift backwards to avoid his weapon. I slashed and caught his arm, the smith cried out with pain. His hammer was now held in just one hand and I slashed at it with the sword. Blood dripped from the cut and he dropped to one knee. His eyes looked at me with hatred and I knew he was mine for the taking.
He was still trying to swing the hammer at me. I moved backwards and then rushed at him, my shield hit him face on and knocked him over. At the same time I slashed at his face; the tip of my blade pierced his cheek and my second thrust took an eye. He was now down and still, I was eager to show that I was a warrior and that mercy was not a word I understood. I stood over him and slashed the tip of my sword across his throat. The deed was done, his life dribbled out onto the ground as his body jerked the dance of the dead.
I raised my sword and called out to Odin that I was sending a soul to him as a gift. My men were cheering and slapping each others’ arms in celebration. The blacksmith was the only man that gave us trouble that day. The rest of the village rolled over and we made short work of them. This village gave us much more plunder than the previous one. The smith had been producing weapons; there were casks of beer and wine. Food was plentiful, one house, the biggest was raided, and several gold plates and a small amount of coins were found.
There were no women in the village that might make us money as slaves. We had them carry our loot back to the boats and then set them free. I wanted the world to know that I Uthred was on the warpath. Rumours produced fear, they produce panic, my father had taught me that. It was a great tactic.
The treasure we had looted was stored in the hold of the fishing boat and a crew of five men were left to guard our boats, and we headed off to see what else the area had to offer.
We had marched for several hours when our scouts warned us of another village. I went forward with Halfdan and Bergvid to take a look. The village was bigger than the others we had attacked so far. It had a fortified tower that was manned with half a dozen archers. That would make things difficult, there were at least a hundred men wandering around. They seemed armed and that worried me more than the archers. On the plus side, it seemed there was a market in town; that could mean there was more to loot to plunder.
I was worried that the village was far too busy to attack, but many of the folks wandering around were unarmed. Vegoff and Halfdan were both eager to attack. I had to take their advice, so we went back into the forest to make our plan and to sharpen our weapons.