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The barbarian and the Manx by JR Sweeney
Wednesday, August 9, 2017
Rated "PG" by the Author.
A quick little read just for fun
hope you like it!
The barbarian and the Manx
William the conqueror ancestor of many, father of nations. Troops too many to number mercenary's and enlisted ranks, earning the only way they know. Farming or warring those were the choices back then. A piece of land to farm with no protection or maundering and plundering under the great William the conqueror.
The Manx came for the mercenary work but found it much too his dislike. Had he not burned his bridges and fouled his relationships on the isle of man surely, he would be there casting a net or two while swigging a swig or two. Maidens abounding! on the isle. Some red heads and some raven blacks with porcelain skin. All the fair girls loved the cunning and dashing Manx jet black hair, soul searching hazel eyes with noble nose and chin and a plump lip about him. The Manx was not tall and was slight but oh the fair maidens liked his rolls in the grass and hay for he did take his time and was unselfish. Even the wife of the King new the wily Manx tis why he has now found himself banished from his home island hiding under some pews in an unknown chapel while much blood and carnage ensue around its doors. Farming is now looking favorable for the Manx as he shivers under the pews amidst the clash of weapons and the painful screams and howls from fellows and enemy alike. He fears the mighty conqueror has not planned well for today the enemy has vastly out-numbered his troops the young Manx shall fare well to hide out until silence. So bad is the massacre outside the Manx throws his field blanket over his head and body and lies still under the pews.
Enter the barbarian a beast of a man, Barging through the parish doors. To the rooms in the back he goes looking for treasures. The fellow stands above average height and solid is his stature. Brown furs and iron armor for clothing, thick black skins for boots and helm. His face is bearded black and thick black hairy eyebrows. Inch long hair sprouts from his nostrils as black cable. A brainless, scar face with dead black eyes, odoriferous with a scent that would chase a pig from its sty or drive a skunk to flight. The barbarians mind is a simple one, eat fight plunder eat fight sleep.
Like a wild-man does this half-man half-animal behave. He destroys the rectory room in search of treasure. In the end of it all he does well, several large crosses and chalices of heavy gold all encrusted with big precious gemstones and still two more rooms to pillage.
Let us not forget our hero hidden under a blanket hidden under the pew. He heard the commotion in the room next door. The Manx spied the burly barbarian enter from an untucked corner of his field blanket and to his calculations he had one more room to pilfer and destroy before reentering the room where he lay. More commotion from the room closest now. Oddly the Manx wondered if this clumsy Gomel barbarian had found any treasures and may have harbored some jealousy as he lies in this cowardly position. What to do? Our man reaches for his dagger an eight inch piece affectionately called by his fellow mercenaries "The Virgin". Named for its perfect condition from never being unsheathed. Yes, the Manx is known by the troops for his lack of enthusiasm toward war yet he is tolerated for his gifts of humor and personality and his many tales of delights with the wives of "Irish royalty". A term the Manx uses loosely, as he has stated often:
"the Queen and the pauper girl are the same once the head begins to strike the headboard".
It is time to act the barbarian has re-entered and now stands just feet away admiring his Gold and silver.
The barbarian has opened an altar cloth turned sack and now ponders how to move all of it. He surely does not want to share it. Two rooms worth of treasures have proven to be quite heavy. Just dragging it to this point has tired him and with all his furs and armor he is now sweating.
What is this? the barbarian turns to see a little man come rolling out from under the pews with dagger in hand.
There stand the two faces to chest, the smaller Manx raises his dagger "The Virgin". Both are ready to take first life.
The huge barbarian smiles and laughs. They do not speak similar tongue yet the barbarian understands the language of coward and can smell fear.
Correct is the barbarian for the Manx lowers “The Virgin” and takes flight to the back of the pews and around to the front in a big circle as the slow clumsy barbarian gives chase. A lopsided race, the barbarian was drained from a night of marching, a morning of battle and then dragging the heavy gold and destroying the back rooms. Chasing this fleet little fellow in all his fur and armor took its toll the lumbering barbarian fell to his knees then face-down on a pew feeling hot, thirsty, and exhausted. He closed his eyes. Within a moment, the warrior was heartily snoring.
The fleet fellow the well-rested Manx had been napping during the slaughter. He felt quite energized. No need to gloat over or harm the barbarian. The hero went right to the gold, he pondered how to move it all. For much time, the Manx toiled in the gold holding his dagger "The Virgin".
From the back rooms, the Manx did well! three alter cloths, precious dyeable silks from far east, ancient gifts from Rome no doubt. The cloths were all 8 feet by four feet. If the Manx could get these to the isle he would be accepted again. The quilter historians would pay handsomely for such light yet durable fabrics. From outside came footsteps Manx didn’t bother to see the source he abandoned the hefty gold and silver crosses and goblets and made his way out the back window with the ornate altar clothes rolled tightly under his arm.
To the forest as instinct would govern. There he would wait until sunset and head west back home happily departed from his highness William the conquer.
With the battle, over and the barbarians victorious four more fur and armor-clad warriors entered the church. First, they spied the large pile of gold and silver next they spied their tired sleeping fellow soldier amongst the pews in a deep slumber. Rousted by his fellows and now awake and standing the barbarian makes no mention of the swift footed enemy that tuckered him out but does explain proudly of his finds and that they will share for the weight is too much for one man. Anxiously without hesitation or time took to admire all the items of gold and silver they packed all up fast in sacks and cloths walking out of the church and a north easterly trek toward the empire for surely with all this heavy ore they will be heroes.
West walked the Manx with a spring in his step. He knew the way to the coast and then to finagle a boat ride to the home isle and a lucrative pay from the quilt historians for his wares of silk. Ah ha over the next crest and the coast is in sight the happy Manx folds a silk and sleds down the final steep grassy hill to the coast laughing all the way. As good luck would have it the Manx's sled ride lands him at the feet of several familiar sailors who greet him with laughs and friendly smiles. Such is the way with the Manx the closer to home the more welcomed and recognized does he become. Welcomed by most save the King and a few angry husbands and jilted lasses. One stone at a time the Manx will walk this path. For now, he has a friendly safe voyage home. He watches the sledding hill grow small as the boat makes distance and sails toward what may await.
Five barbarians proudly enter the village their arms and legs are tired from hauling the heavy weight of gold and silver. Directly they visit the Earl and present the plunder to him.
The dungeon? how does this happen? five barbarians jailed for thievery. Had they taken the time to inspect the treasures surely, they would have noticed all the encrusted gems that adorned such heavy gold had all been removed! Now they are jailed by the Earl and accused of thievery. One barbarian tells a tale of a little man he chased inside the church yes perhaps he was the one that took the jewels. The other four cellmates blame the one for their current situation and call his tale a lie. Violently they begin to pummel the liar and finally kill him. In his final last words, the barbarian rambles of a little man with jet black hair and fleet of foot.
One Manx departs the boat at the docks. He enters his village and directly walks to the castle of the quilting historians to present his fine fabrics.
The kingdom? how does this happen? The historians are thrilled to see the Manx for he is the well- known native son. The new fabric will supply a century or two worth of fine embroidery and quilting. Our Manx is a hero, the powerful quilt historians oust the King and Queen and the Manx receives the throne! He becomes the richest man on the isle and now sits on the throne surrounded by his subjects. Smiling a wide genuine grin at such a fortuitous turn of events. This is all he ever wanted to be surrounded by friends and slugging a jug or two.
The Manx raises his jug and proclaims;
“William the Conqueror, I resign as Mercenary”
Now he unsheathes "The Virgin" and tells of;
“A dagger that never killed a man, however, is excellent for prying encrusted gem stones from heavy gold and silver objects.”
On the table in front of him for all to see sit a large pile of finished and polished emeralds diamonds and rubies all a generous size.
A likable tale of brains over brawn. The kind I prefer. It is strange, however, that the Manx was so welcome on the Isle of Man after all of his philandering.
You certainly should have it proofed/edited to insert all the needed commas and correct the truncated and/or run-on sentences.
A clever tale spun by words that paint cerebral pictures--"Inch long hair sprouts from his nostrils as black cable"--as in the sorry sight of the Barbarian.
To the victor go the spoils which made the Manx a victor due to fortuitous events.
A naďve councilman and a down-on-her-luck single mom try to save their county’s last stand of forest from greedy developers and a dysfunctional government.
The barbarian and the Manx
