Thread: Vinland (Jokerama og JanÅgeSolstad)

I took the hand that offered itself to me. And I took it with pride and without hesitation. I had entrusted in this stranger the moment I set him free. You could have turned right around and killed me. You could have taken my own hand-made weapon, and slight my throat with it. But you didn't. Instead, you chose to fight my battle - along my side. And for that, I was eternally grateful. But now was not the time. There was still a battle ahead, and I wouldn't read until it was over. Straight from the ground to my feet again, I lunged forward into battle - slaughtering the last Ktunawai to stand in my way. Before long, I stood tall - my eyes wandering the once green grass, that had now turned to red. Bodies lay before me, but two were missing. Kwatoko had come running closer to me, but stopped to raise his arrow at another situation. Out in the distance, two Ktunawai men were fleeing the scene. As the two escapees ran from the bloodbath, I stared off into the distance - watching them run. With a completely blank expression, I asked my clan-mate, Kwatoko, Tell me, Cousin... How many men does it take to deliver a message? Pulling the arrow back, Kwatoko grinned sadistically and replied. One . Firing the arrow, he strikes one of the running natives in the neck. The man drops down, and not a shred of movement came from his body. That man was dead. With only one messenger on the run, the attack would appear to be a mass-murder. What better message to send, than a message of death? The rest of the small clan of natives began to saw away at the necks of their victims. Each body was to be decapitated, and so, they were. One by one, the heads of our enemies were removed defaced from their respective bodies. This is war. I stated in the dead of momentary silence. My eyes fell upon the remainder of the corpses. Cut them up into pieces. We will leave a trail of blood and body down to the river. There, from the tree by the water, we will hang their heads. It was clear immediately that I was no farming maiden. I was a killer a savage. And I knew full well how to send a message. Let it be known that the Howahkan tribe will not stand down. We will fight for what is ours! The men around me cheered, and followed my command. What about Pale Face? Kwatoko glared at you with raging eyes. It was as if he had fallen upon a poisonous snake that snake being you. Why did you not kill him? What am I to do with a white rat? He circled you cautiously, staring at you up and down to analyze every aspect of your strange appearance. He strode behind you and grabbed the long blonde hair on the back of your head and pulled it back. Kneel, demon! He shouted at you, kicking the back of your knees to send you to the ground. He twisted your hair without mercy, clearly empowered by his position and authority over your fragile condition. I will take his hair and use it to keep my balls warm. Bilagaana! The native man screamed in a sudden fit of rage. He flew his backhand against the side of your face. Bilagaana, he had said. It meant white person. Kwatoko! I sneered at the native, quick to your defense. I shouted a name and swiftly lunged an axe at him. As he jumped back, I hissed, No hands will fall upon this man. I waved my axe to point and gesture towards you. No hands but my own. I raised the axe once more, pointing and waving to everyone around me. It was a territorial defense. It was clear - I was claiming you as my property. Everyone else in the clan kept quiet. The only battle here was between Kwatoko and I. Man versus the head of a woman. He would surely lose. Kwatoko angrily dismissed me, losing his temper and grabbing me by my arm. He aggressively pulled me towards him and leaned his face into mine. One day you will be mine and you WILL obey me. I hawked back a wad of saliva and spat it right into his face. Snatching my arm back away from his grip, I stepped back. I am no wife of yours. I am promised to no one. As woman of native origin, this independent identity was nearly unheard of. My role as a woman was to serve my man, but I seemed to be the stubborn exception. I had chosen the path of a warrior, and the only reason I had succeeded was because of the stature of my ancestors, and my chieftain father. I am a werowansqwa. And you will obey ME. Knowing he had no power here, Kwatoko's demeanor settled and his attitude altered. My father was a werorance the head of the Howahkan clan and I was his sole remaining kin, which made ME the position of royalty and power. Still bitter from the dispute and failure, Kwatoko added in dismay. What difference does one man one SAVAGE make in our battles? My eyes were narrow - fixated on him without but a single blink. It only takes one bug to infest a crop. He looked at me as if he didn't understand - with a deep look of confusion. Without hesitation or reaction, I continued. Put one bug, and others will follow. His eyes widened slightly he was finally starting to understand. We can use his anger to build an army with his kind, and finally dispose of the Ktunawai. I added, slowly moving my glance to peer upon your battered frame. The Bilagaana fight good. Returning my eyes to Kwatoko, I reiterated. They are vicious warriors. We can learn. He can teach. Kwatoko instantly turned around - finding that statement complete blasphemy. He shook his hand and turned his back to me. Storming off, he muttered, There is nothing to be learned from the spawn of the devil . Nothing! I shook my head lightly. He never failed to disappoint me. I looked over to my men and waved them away. They complied, and everyone turned their attention away from me and back towards their duties. They were to conjure the bodies, as well and head back to camp. Night time was falling - and everyone needed rest, especially you. I rose my finger and thumb to my lips, and emitted a deep whistle that echoed in the sky. Out from the woods came the same steed that had once been out of control. It strode towards me and tended to my side. The stallion was calm, and loyal to my ownership. Warrior. I looked over to you, still unsure if you understood any of the words I spoke to you. Mount my steed. To ensure I was being understood, I positioned my horse so that its back was available for your mounting. I patted the back of the horse, motioning you to climb on. You. Rest. Camp. I pointed towards the outskirts of the woods. There lay our camp, and I was inviting you to stay. Food? I made an air motion with my hand to my mouth - pretending to eat. This was a primitive way of communication, but it was all I could offer. VOCABULARY Kwatoko My character's cousin and clan-mate. He is one of the clan's best archers. He is also trying to get my character's hand in marriage, but to no avail. Bilagaana The native american word meaning white person. Werorance The native american word for chief - usually refers to male chiefs. Werowansqwa The native american word for female chief. Female chief's are also a rare phenomenon in native culture.