Gundar Nils

Kathryn's Saga.....a work in Progress..... History.....A lone Viking ship...with Black Sails......Pounding the waves.....in the midst of natures fury.....The worse the weather the more the Gods looked on with favor.   Gunder Nils hated and loved this journey..... Everything about it was wrong. The wrong time of year (Fall). Winter storms...he did not care. The Welsh had killed his son And there was to be revenge.... Gunder lamented the losse of his first born son Lladnar....(pronouced ...Yadnar). Who had just turned twenty-seven.... a mature and strong Viking.... out to prove his worth by raiding Southern Welsh shores.... but yet he was dead...... killed by a so called.... Welsh Tribal Prince. “Revenge! Killing has to be done.... screamed Gunder, his blonde gray mane matted to his skull from the salty spray... ”Damn you all... row ... row..... he bellowed from the helm..... and the gods listened... The Sail's filled and the Viking ship pushed Southward under Gail force winds Gunder at the helm... a Demon..... There will be blood!   Welshland.....before pre-history....after the Battle of Epona Plains......A victory.   The Women! A Festival was held....... A Fall Harvest... Let the Northlanders starve... Our men are warriors and we are are their wives and mothers and daughters and lovers...... The women sang as they danced around the bond fire... naked... covered in blue clay.... from sacred places.   “A Galic Wiccan Womens Song” “Our men..all brave to the one.... We are your women! Our men saved our homelands!.....from the hordres of the North. Sing to how much they love us..our men.. They who fought so hard to save us.... Take our heros to your beds.... We need the seed of strong men.... Oh! Our men....need us now..... To create more sons....fighters....Warriors all.... So our daughters may survive... Kathryn was but a child of thirteen that year.... And was not allowed to dance with the women And older girls..who were ready..and oh, so willing To take on the strongest...... of our men. Sex is survival...... of the strongest. The wails of women in the throes of ectasty... filled the night air and into the early morning.... till the fires needed tending..... their men Exhausted...and drained. For the next six months the ritual was practiced.... until all the fertile women were with child.... every man a Father or Uncle..... The Men......to be continued...