FROZEN at Sea

Prologue

One late night in a village from far away is a pub that still has its lights on. There's no one inside except for two people. One of them is a cloaked stranger sitting in the corner of the pub, tapping his heavy fingers impatiently while taking a sip of his beer. The other is the bartender, who is just cleaning the bar table, minding his own business. He turns to his pocket watch and walks over to the stranger, trying to be as friendly as possible.

"Excuse me, sir," the bartender says, "You're gonna have to leave pretty soon. The pub is about to close."

The stranger doesn't reply, but simply pulls out a small bag of money and drops it on the table. Seeing this generous tip, the bartender reconsiders.

"Whenever you're ready to leave, let me know," the bartender takes the bag of gold and goes into the backroom.

Just as the place is quiet again, the door slams open. The bartender pokes his head out to see who's there. The new visitor is a small, very small, man named Fenny. He is wearing furred clothes, boots and a helmet with little horns sticking out. The bartender quickly ducks away so that he's out of sight. Fenny walks over to the table where the cloaked stranger is sitting at.

Fenny takes a seat, removing his helmet. "Sorry I'm late, sir," his eyes spot a mug of beer. "Mind of I have a drink?" He reaches out of the mug but the cloaked stranger smacks the little man's hand. "AH!"

"Do you have it or not?" The cloaked stranger asks with a growl.

"Oh, yes. I do," Fenny takes a moment to rub his hand before digging in his furry vest and pulls out a piece of paper, which appears to be torn in half. "It wasn't easy, but here you go."

The cloak stranger greedily takes the paper and lays it down on the table. The bartender carefully watches as the cloak stranger pulls out another piece of paper that is also torn in half and places it next to the other one. Together, the two halves make one map. Sitting on the cloaked stranger's shoulder is a ferret with an eye patch covering his left eye; his name is Jasper. He is scanning the map with his other eye. The cloaked stranger finally takes off his cloak to reveal himself . . . as Kalimore. His muscular body stands over six feet tall. He has red hot hair that goes to his shoulders and has a scraggy beard that goes down to his chest. He is covered in fur and armor, plus a bronze helmet with big horns on his head.

The bartender looks over to a wall where there are wanted posters covering it. One of them has Kalimore's face on it with the words: WANTED: KALIMORE THE VIKING. DEAD OR ALIVE. The bartender quickly but quietly leaves the bar through the back door.

"Well, you've proven yourself to be useful," Kalimore comments, "For once." He rolls up the map and tucks it in his shirt. "Fenny! Get the boys ready! We leave in the morning."

"Yes, sir, but-"

"BUT WHAT?"

"W-w-we don't have a ship anymore," Fenny points out, "The ship was destroyed out at sea during battle."

Kalimore brushes through his bread, "That is true. But we can always get another one. Maybe two or three."

"But where are we going to get another . . ."

"Oh for heaven's sakes-Jasper!" Having enough of Fenny, the mighty Viking can always count on his ferret, Jasper. "Tell the boys to meet us at the harbor as quick as possible!"

"Ay-Ay, sir," Jasper salutes and scurries out of the pub. Kalimore grabs Fenny and exits the pub to the harbor.

It wouldn't be long until the bartender called the guards for help, but it would be too late. Kalimore and his gang of Vikings have stormed the harbor; destroying shops, houses and anything that comes in their way. Innocent villagers cry in terror; the men try to save whatever they can as women take their children to safety. The king's guards try to defend the people, but a last the Vikings are much stronger. Buildings and homes are set on fire and are left to burn into ashes. The Vikings get aboard three of the ships in the harbor and start to set sail to the sea. The people of the village watched in horror as they sailed away. There's nothing they can do now.

Or is there?

Kalimore walks on the deck of his new ship and reaches in this pocket for the map. On the map, there is a picture of a golden sword on a small island in the middle of the North Sea.

"Ah yes," Kalimore chuckles, "The Great Sword of Sigurd will soon be mine. And no one is going to stop me."

"CAPTAIN! LOOK OUT!" Fenny points above him.

"What the-OOF!" Kalimore turns around as a boot hits him in the face. He falls back, hitting the wooden floor as the map slips out of his hand.

Swinging on a rope is a man; a young, strong and rather good looking soldier. His name is Roland, captain of the royal guard of the kingdom whose harbor got destroyed just now. Kalimore gets on his feet as the Roland lands in front of him.

"You should have thought twice before destroying my harbor!" Roland tells the mighty Viking.

Kalimore's eyes look over to the railing where the map is sitting. "NOOO!" He lungs over to grab it but the wind picks up and the map blows away. "The map!" Kalimore screams in fury. "You are going to pay, you little-AHHHHH!" The Viking pulls out his sword and attacks Roland. The young captain dodges each swing. "HOLD STILL!"

"Why? Can't keep up?" Roland smirks. He pulls out his own sword and fights back. The two men have a one-on-one duel.

"Oh, get him, sir!" Fenny cheers Kalimore on "Get him!"

The battle goes on until Kalimore grabs Roland and gives him a big head-butt, causing Roland to fall. Kalimore's shadow hovers over him.

"Any last words, boy?"

Roland looks up and then back at Kalimore with a grin. "Heads up."

"Huh?"

Roland takes his swords and hurls it up to the sky, chopping through a rope. That rope is holding barrels of wine just above Kalimore. Roland quickly makes his getaway as the barrels come down on the viking. CRASH! Roland dives into the water and swims back to shore. Kalimore is now angry and covered in wine.

Fenny walks over to his master. "Sir? Are you all right?"

"Do I look like I'm all right, Fenny?" Kalimore asks his assistant trying to control his temper.

"Umm . . . No?"

"Good answer. NOW GET ME A TOWEL!" Fenny runs off to do as his master ordered. Kalimore looks out at the ocean. "Map or no map, we will still get that sword one way or another."

Back at the harbor, Roland's men are at the docks, helping their captain out of the water. They all watch as the gang of vikings sail away with their ships.

Early the next day, the king wakes up with the news of what happened last night from his captain. The old man paces back and forth with Roland kneeling down before his throne.

"How many ships were stolen?" the old king asks.

"Three, your majesty."

"Anyone hurt? Injured? DEAD?"

"No, your majesty. Everyone is fine, but the harbor is nearly destroyed and needs rebuilding."

"Yes and apparently more ships," the king speaks under his breath, "Did you see where they went?"

"We saw them heading west. The local bartender speaks of a map, but it appears he lost it when I encountered him."

"Where is this map now?"

"I don't know," Roland shakes his head, "Not in his hands, that's for sure."

"Well, one thing's for sure is that monster will not stop until he gets what he wants. Kalimore is known to be the most vicious and dangerous viking in the waters and I will not stand to see what he does next." The king finally takes a sit on his throne with his hand rubbing his forehead.

Roland gets up his feet with a solution. "My men and I will go after them."

"I admire your bravery, Captain. But I cannot risk losing my soldiers to those barbarians. Their number is too strong for us."

Roland turns away hopeless. "So there's no way to defeat them."

The king's head lights up with an idea. "No. There is one way to stop them."

"What is it, your majesty? I will do anything to-"

"It's not what, Roland. It's who."

"Then . . . who is it?"

TO BE CONTINUED . . .