h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

It had been a long and frightening journey. Bevan has lost count of the times he believed he would drown, or starve to death, on the vast waters.

Huddled in the keel, trying to keep warm by sleeping in the stinking goat pen, Bevan had been woken by shouts from the bow.

*Land!*

The young boy's heart swelled as he rubbed his eyes, trying to see more than a faint smudge on the horizon. How these Northmen could distinguish anything at sea never failed to amaze him.

But, as the day wore on, he could finally pick out the dark shapes of the strange land growing in the distance. First cliffs, mighty rocks, a few trees breaking the skyline, then his vision was filled, beaches, vegetation, a myriad of strange birds circling in the updrafts between cliffs and shoreline.

Strangely familiar but terrible alien at the same moment.

Bevan knew he was far, far away from home, would probably never see the Wirhael again. One way or another, this strange new world would be his home.

*Come, laddie, help me with the ropes* Conn didn't wait for an answer, striding off towards the square rig, knowing the boy would follow. Since he was rescued from Thurston, Bevan had followed Conn around like a pup.

Aboard the Sí mac Tíre, sailing ever westward, Conn had taught the boy what he could about life at sea, impressed at the lad's willingness to learn and his stubbornness not to admit failure.

*We'll make a Viking out of you yet young Celt!' Conn growled his approval as Bevan set about his task.

Another shout went up, Bevan and his crewmate looked towards shore, six strange boats, little more than a man long, were rowing through the surf.

Conn had never seen the like, he shielded his eyes, trying to identify friend or foe.

The crew ran for swords and axes, stored away against the salt spray, as the hide canoes paddled ever closer, the curiously dark skinned oarsmen shouting out in an unintelligible language.

*Shields to starboard!* Rulf barked the order, the helmsman positioning the knaar for battle.

Rulf prayed to the Gods that they would not need to fight their way ashore.

Oops!


Then I realised November was done and left the travellers to have whatever American adventures they sought fit!

I wish them well.

I love it!

I'm obviously a creature of habit!

Bless you a thousand times, FWR.

From your mouth to God's ears paul

There's a lot of goddy things coming up....

Your November story was superb. It took me a while to get into it, but by mid-month I was hooked.

Rulf is one of those characters that takes on a life of its own. I hope that he has more adventures in the offing.