Creative Writing: Beowulf
“Impractical?” Hennit took the lapel of her red tunic, embroidered in gold and blue, between his fingers. He rubbed the soft fabric and gave her an inquisitive look.
“That's different, I don't wear this to fight.”
Hennit shook his head, “no difference, fight, sail, eat, love, all practical, all impractical.”
Kiennan thought about what he said. She watched him turn back to look out over the railing. She stepped up to the railing and braced her hands against it. “I don't understand,” she admitted.
Hennit chuckled, “your coat is quite beautiful, but it keeps you warmer and marks your status. My fighting is . . .” Hennit gestured with his hands, it looked almost like he might break into dance, but he was searching for the correct word. “It is not as rigid as what I've seen from soldiers like you, it is an expression of me and my people.” …show more content…
Kiennan deflated against the railing.
“I'm not a soldier.”
Hennit dropped his hand onto her upper back. “I mean warrior, fighter.”
Kiennan paused. “Could you teach me to fight like that?” She perked up at the thought.
Hennit took a deep breath through his nostrils. Kiennan looked over to see him contemplating. He took his hand back and tucked his smooth chin in it. He started to shake his head. “We have little time together, very little, and you need strong muscles, ones you likely don't use. Months to start learning.”
Kiennan’s shoulders slumped. She nodded when she looked back out to the
water.
“Some other time, I am certain.” He patted her back, and managed to be gentle enough not to jostle her this time. “We should both get sleep.”
She turned to see him carry the oar back to the longboat, twirling it as he went. He disappeared below deck, and Kiennan found herself alone on the forecastle. In the flickering light of the oil lamp, she stepped to the center of the forecastle. She closed her eyes, and took a steadying breath. She stepped to begin her unarmed forms.
Her feet were nearly off the ground, an arm bound her arms to her sides, and a cold, clammy hand covered her mouth. She shrieked, but it was muffled by the palm. Kiennan thrashed against the grip, and it tightened. She felt hot breath on her neck and ear.
“I like liveliness.” Banyan whispered.
Kiennan’s heart raced. She felt herself being pulled toward the staircase. The grip weakened and tightened with Banyan's steps. With perfect timing she drove both feet down on top of Banyan's knee. He folded, and his arms spread to cradle his knee. As they fell, Kiennan twisted her shoulders to their limit. The tip of her elbow launched into Banyan's head with all of the strength in Kiennan’s well trained body.
She clambered to her feet. Her dagger was drawn, in her left hand. Kiennan stood poised, her muscles were set like a steel trap waiting for Banyan to trip it. Her deadly eyes locked on the moaning heap of a figure.
Banyan's head turned. Kiennan's elbow had carved a gash across his forehead. The flickering light made the wound, and trickling blood, grotesque. A cold shiver shot up Kiennan’s spine and down her arms from the sight. Not the sight of the blood and torn flesh, but Banyan's sickening smile.
“Oh, little girl, I hoped you were this stupid.”
Kiennan cocked her head in confusion. But then her eyes spread wide and her heart plummeted when Banyan whistled with his fingers. A loud piercing sound, followed by cries for help. The crew roused and poured out onto the main deck, like someone had jabbed a wasp nest.
Kiennan backed towards the bow. Her head darted between the two staircases. She was a cornered, and frightened animal. Her breathing matched her thudding heart. Some of the men came to Banyan's side, the others stood angry and waiting. Kiennan felt every pair of burning eyes on hropes“She attacked me!” Banyan shrieked, creaking his face, “tried to cut my eyes from my head.”
The din of the crowd began to swell. Kiennan’s blood boiled. She shouted, tried to be heard over the crowd as they moved in on her. “You attacked me!”
Some of the men had ropes, one had a long pole with a hook at the end, and they encircled her. They stayed a safe distance from her dagger. They pleaded for her to give them her dagger. But she gripped it with white knuckles. Kiennan shifted her stances, moved her focus. She would give them no opening. The first hands that reached for this snake would get the fangs. The fear was held in check by the battle lust. She could hear her heart beat in her ears.
In the brief moment her back was turned, one of them cast a net over her. She thrashed and yelled. She tried to cut at the rope, to no avail, and it dropped her guard. Enough for them the seize her, and rip the dagger from her hand. She fought against the net and the three or four men restraining her for what felt like minutes, but she was likely exhausted and subdued in less than one.
She panted, breathing mostly through her nose and clenched teeth. She had been brought to her knees when Banyan limped over to her, and gestured for them to bring her back up to her feet. The two men holding her down, lifted her, pressing close and pinning her arms so tightly to her sides that it made her hate filled panting difficult.
Banyan brought his face near to hers. His foul breath wafted over her face. All she wanted in that moment was to crush the wind out of him. He smiled, just enough that she could see it. “You'll suffer for attacking me unprovoked.”
Kiennan sneered. She shook from the anger boiling over inside her. Her teeth felt like they would shatter themselves, her lips felt like they could crush stones between them. Banyan lingered in her face, and she spat on him.
“That's different, I don't wear this to fight.”
Hennit shook his head, “no difference, fight, sail, eat, love, all practical, all impractical.”
Kiennan thought about what he said. She watched him turn back to look out over the railing. She stepped up to the railing and braced her hands against it. “I don't understand,” she admitted.
Hennit chuckled, “your coat is quite beautiful, but it keeps you warmer and marks your status. My fighting is . . .” Hennit gestured with his hands, it looked almost like he might break into dance, but he was searching for the correct word. “It is not as rigid as what I've seen from soldiers like you, it is an expression of me and my people.” …show more content…
Kiennan deflated against the railing.
“I'm not a soldier.”
Hennit dropped his hand onto her upper back. “I mean warrior, fighter.”
Kiennan paused. “Could you teach me to fight like that?” She perked up at the thought.
Hennit took a deep breath through his nostrils. Kiennan looked over to see him contemplating. He took his hand back and tucked his smooth chin in it. He started to shake his head. “We have little time together, very little, and you need strong muscles, ones you likely don't use. Months to start learning.”
Kiennan’s shoulders slumped. She nodded when she looked back out to the
water.
“Some other time, I am certain.” He patted her back, and managed to be gentle enough not to jostle her this time. “We should both get sleep.”
She turned to see him carry the oar back to the longboat, twirling it as he went. He disappeared below deck, and Kiennan found herself alone on the forecastle. In the flickering light of the oil lamp, she stepped to the center of the forecastle. She closed her eyes, and took a steadying breath. She stepped to begin her unarmed forms.
Her feet were nearly off the ground, an arm bound her arms to her sides, and a cold, clammy hand covered her mouth. She shrieked, but it was muffled by the palm. Kiennan thrashed against the grip, and it tightened. She felt hot breath on her neck and ear.
“I like liveliness.” Banyan whispered.
Kiennan’s heart raced. She felt herself being pulled toward the staircase. The grip weakened and tightened with Banyan's steps. With perfect timing she drove both feet down on top of Banyan's knee. He folded, and his arms spread to cradle his knee. As they fell, Kiennan twisted her shoulders to their limit. The tip of her elbow launched into Banyan's head with all of the strength in Kiennan’s well trained body.
She clambered to her feet. Her dagger was drawn, in her left hand. Kiennan stood poised, her muscles were set like a steel trap waiting for Banyan to trip it. Her deadly eyes locked on the moaning heap of a figure.
Banyan's head turned. Kiennan's elbow had carved a gash across his forehead. The flickering light made the wound, and trickling blood, grotesque. A cold shiver shot up Kiennan’s spine and down her arms from the sight. Not the sight of the blood and torn flesh, but Banyan's sickening smile.
“Oh, little girl, I hoped you were this stupid.”
Kiennan cocked her head in confusion. But then her eyes spread wide and her heart plummeted when Banyan whistled with his fingers. A loud piercing sound, followed by cries for help. The crew roused and poured out onto the main deck, like someone had jabbed a wasp nest.
Kiennan backed towards the bow. Her head darted between the two staircases. She was a cornered, and frightened animal. Her breathing matched her thudding heart. Some of the men came to Banyan's side, the others stood angry and waiting. Kiennan felt every pair of burning eyes on hropes“She attacked me!” Banyan shrieked, creaking his face, “tried to cut my eyes from my head.”
The din of the crowd began to swell. Kiennan’s blood boiled. She shouted, tried to be heard over the crowd as they moved in on her. “You attacked me!”
Some of the men had ropes, one had a long pole with a hook at the end, and they encircled her. They stayed a safe distance from her dagger. They pleaded for her to give them her dagger. But she gripped it with white knuckles. Kiennan shifted her stances, moved her focus. She would give them no opening. The first hands that reached for this snake would get the fangs. The fear was held in check by the battle lust. She could hear her heart beat in her ears.
In the brief moment her back was turned, one of them cast a net over her. She thrashed and yelled. She tried to cut at the rope, to no avail, and it dropped her guard. Enough for them the seize her, and rip the dagger from her hand. She fought against the net and the three or four men restraining her for what felt like minutes, but she was likely exhausted and subdued in less than one.
She panted, breathing mostly through her nose and clenched teeth. She had been brought to her knees when Banyan limped over to her, and gestured for them to bring her back up to her feet. The two men holding her down, lifted her, pressing close and pinning her arms so tightly to her sides that it made her hate filled panting difficult.
Banyan brought his face near to hers. His foul breath wafted over her face. All she wanted in that moment was to crush the wind out of him. He smiled, just enough that she could see it. “You'll suffer for attacking me unprovoked.”
Kiennan sneered. She shook from the anger boiling over inside her. Her teeth felt like they would shatter themselves, her lips felt like they could crush stones between them. Banyan lingered in her face, and she spat on him.