Golden Legend

Chapter 1-2

Bjorn remained long days in that desolate beach, while his wounds closed and his body restored his forces. He had buried his comrades, built a precarious refuge against rough weather using branches and algae brought by sea, while he precariously fed with mollusks, some birds hunted with arrows and fish speared by fortune. Unfortunately the site was miserly in food and other elements necessary for life, and pure water that emerged from a shed located inland was its only abundant resource. Therefore, the young warrior undertook the march along the coast and up to the cliffs, limiting the beach, penetrating into the plateau located behind. There he soon met the bed of a creek that ran parallel to the coast and decided to follow his course for lack of a better alternative. After a couple of hours walk, he came to a forest of deciduous trees, and assumed it would be the same that reached the edge of the cliff; tired and sore, he decided to rest before deciding his future actions. He leaned on a heap of leaves and fell asleep immediately with a dream that lasted long hours. As he woke up, his mind wandered a while without purpose, until an idea began to take shape in his brain. Using his sword, he cut several young trees whose trunks he then cleaned of branches, a task which took him a day and a half. When he judged that he had obtained sufficient trunks for his purpose, he made them fall rolling from the top of the canyon to the sea shore.

Back to the shore he worked patiently for several days assembling a raft, holding the trunks together with fibrous material of vines that grew around nearby trees. Three trunks placed perpendicular to the length of the raft, one at each end and one in the middle, gave a certain rigidity to the set; a table introduced between the trunks of stern acted as a keel to prevent the raft from deriving sidewise in the midst of the sea. This provision would provide true governance to the raft. He had no means to improvise a sail, so left the propulsion to the vagaries of the ocean currents. For a couple of days, he collected food and fresh water, which kept inside the fruits hanging from the branches of some trees, previously emptied of its contents and filled with the vital element..

Bjorn finally entered the sea once more, hoping to find friendlier beaches with more resources for life than what he had found before. With regard to the possibility of encountering humans, his feelings were mixed. Indeed, on the one hand loneliness distressed him already, but on the other hand his encounters with the inhabitants of the lands that he had found on his way had been marked by hostility and all out struggles.

So Bjorn met in the situation where our story begins. He had already consumed all of its provisions, and the previous night a storm had made him lose all coastal reference and sense of direction. A rudimentary oar used as a rudder, in reality only a flat board, also was lost at sea in the night, and the precarious boat had not already governance whatsoever. Moreover, the crude ropes that joined their timbers already were rapidly deteriorating in salty water, which preannounced an end to navigation. Bjorn tried to overcome the gloom, but he was defeated by fatigue and lack of sleeping for so many days. He tied himself to the trunks so that the swell would not throw him into the sea, and fell deeply asleep, waves beating on the top of the raft.

He woke up with a placid heat spreading over his body. He had not experienced a similar pleasant sensation for a long time. When he opened his eyes, the strong subtropical midday sun dazzled him, forcing him to close them. He stood up heavily, and found that he was on a beach of fine white sand. High tide would have deposited him in it and now the waters had retreated. He estimated it was around noon. When turning his head to dry land, he saw a set of Palm trees that stretched towards the inside. The Eden image that unfolded marveled in his eyes, completely outside the range of his previous experiences, particularly when he recalled the gloomy thoughts that assaulted him when it was on the high seas that were in fact the last thoughts he actually remembered.

He noted with relief that his sword was still at his side, but the rest of the belongings that had once owned had disappeared, including all his clothes. In his situation, the lack of the minimum element linked to everyday life was a sensitive loss; it would be another need that could not be satisfied.

Xquic looked anxiously to both sides, noting that the men were still surrounding her. She had just waded the river, pushed by her captors, stumbling over and over again with the bottom stones, falling and swallowing water, hurting her feet and ankles, her arms tied to the warrior who was driving her as if she were a beast of burden. But the object of her concerns was her Lady, Princess Xchil, daughter of Yum Tu Kin, king of her tribe and of the city of Dzibilchaltun. Both women had traveled to the remote city of Mayapán, near the coast of the sea, so that Xchil met her future husband, son of the local king. They were accompanied by an escort of twenty warriors, led by a cousin of Xchil and selected from among the bravest of Dzibilchaltun. On the road they had been ambushed by a larger contingent of fierce Uxmal fighters, growing power among the Mayan cities of the peninsula of Yucatan and main competitor of Mayapán. In the fight without quarter that followed, Yum Tu Kin warriors were exterminated, but not before killing dozens of Uxmal soldiers. Finally, Xchil and Xquic had been captured, tied and they were being led to the city of the aggressors. The head of the contingent realized immediately that their captives were handmaidens of high rank, and reasoned that the kinglet of Uxmal would reward handsomely his capture. For this reason, he had prevented his men from raping or even touching the prisoners, since carrying them intact would increase their value. Both were young and beautiful women, one of them was richly dressed and she surely was royal family, and the other was dressed as a high Priestess, and likely were virgins, which would enhance the interest of their bosses.

After a quick withdrawal to prevent patrols of Dzibilchaltun men, the Uxmal chieftain had consented to a short break, in which the two girls could approach each other. Xquic noticed that the Princess was absent, and soon fell into account that she was entering one of her deep trances. Xchil mother and grandmother were very prominent mediums in Dzibilchaltun, and their offspring had inherited their powers. In times of great stress, the girl disconnected from reality and had visions. Xquic repressed cravings and waited for her owner to return to her normal consciousness.

After a while, Xchil relaxed the muscles

“The release is close” she whispered.

“How you can say that, in the terrible situation in which we find ourselves?” moaned distraught Xquic.

“I ask that you trust me. I've had a very strong vision” replied the Princess.

Xquic hesitated, unwilling to accommodate vain hopes, but the truth was that when Xchil had firm premonitions in the past, they had been confirmed in some way, however their blurriness.

At that time the head of the warriors gave orders to continue the march. Although different dialects of the Quiché language spoken in different cities had marked differences to each other, the dialects of Uxmal and Dzibilchaltun were mutually comprehensible and the girls were prepared to continue the journey, although now their despair was tinged with a little light.

They came to the clearing in the forest almost at the same time. Bjorn had a moment of anticipation, produced by the noises of the caravan of warriors and their captives. By the haste of staying away from the road between Dzibilchaltun Mayapán, the Uxmal warriors had not featured explorers preceding the troop.

The Viking had time to draw his sword and put on guard, while the native warriors emerged unnoticed from the jungle. The head of the procession gave order to attack when he saw a man alone, but his order got lost in the confusion among the ranks. Bjorn understood the meaning of the message and unhesitatingly rushed to the warriors party even before he knew how many there were. His sword opened bloody furrows between the Indians, who rolled before knowing what was happening. Some of them tried to cope with the whirlwind, but their torsos were split and their heads blown up in an orgy of blood. The trees surrounding the path formed a compact mass so that the warriors faced Bjorn in pairs, and the rest could not surround him using the advantage of the number that ultimately would had allowed them to kill him. Finally, the survivors tried to regroup but the strike force allowed no recoil, warriors hindered each other in their escape attempt, and fell under the superior strength of the Norwegian and the iron weapon against which their spears and swords were ineffective. The brave Uxmal chieftain tried to cross the lone enemy with his spear, but a blow of the sword deflected the blow and a second severed his head.

Bjorn completed his work on the last survivors and soon realized that only he was standing in the middle of dead bodies. Several men moaned and writhed on the ground, and the winner put an end to their suffering following the harsh fighting law in those times. He counted fourteen bodies including that of the head of the contingent. It was a victory against fierce and brave men and in other circumstances would have filled him with pride, but had cost him dear with the reopening of numerous injuries, and pains became unbearable, forcing him to biting his fists. At that time and despite the suffering he differentiated between some bushes some huddled bodies. He lifted up its armed wing to resume its task, but before the coup he became aware that they were women. He left the weapon on the ground, and lifted by the arm a young woman of a strange beauty, shaking and staring. The second woman, also young, stood up by herself and looked defiant at him. He could see her feminine curves under the tunic which she used, and only at that time fell into account that in combat he had been completely naked. He could not hide his embarrassment at being exhibited with a strong erection of his member; adrenaline, which had declined after the battle, rose again for various reasons. Looking at the face of the second woman he saw a strange glint in her eyes, which he interpreted not as a product of terror, but of a certain wild excitement, no doubt product of the bloody fight scene. The c*****e had not produced her horror but an overwhelming burning from another source. The woman pushed him to the ground, making him lie in a pile of bloodied bodies of their enemies, and Bjorn thought she would then lay over to have s*x with him. What happened instead left him perplexed. The woman approached the other girl, which until then had remained oblivious to what has happened with an absent air, took her by the hand, and led her to the man lying down. He quickly grasped her purpose. He sat on the ground, introduced his hands under her tunic, and laid it up exposing her genitals. Despite the high level of excitement of the warrior, the s*x was slow and exquisite, spasms calmed suddenly by contact with the skin of the girl. Bjorn could not less than be amazed by the sudden change of emotional state which contact with the young woman had caused him.