For Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #126, where we write about the image below, by MarcSimonetti at DeviantArt.com.
“Bastard”, thought Olaf as he trudged through the snow. He had enjoyed a superb night, as far as he could remember, but this was his forfeit.
They had barged into this settlement yesterday. Arriving as the snow fell, they had taken them completely by surprise. As they had beached, their fearsome captain, Erik, had warned the men that he would be setting sail again at daybreak. But the villagers had been pathetic, their women comely, and once the company had unearthed the mead…
“Oh, god”, he pounded, “my poor head”.
That flaxen-haired beauty had been a rare fine-looking wench, though, and Olaf was pleased that it had been he who had discovered her. He could hardly help but wonder, if he had bestowed a child upon her, a souvenir of his visit, would its hair match his own fiery locks? That child would surely be a handsome pup!
Erik and his men not only discovered, raped, and pillaged the settlement, but many of the men drunk themselves into a subsequent stupor when they discovered the ale. Exhausted, intoxicated, many simply passed out where they regaled.
It was mid-morning when Olaf came to his senses.
Erik had been good to his word.