The waves gently lapped at the side of the ships as the three vessels approached the shoreline. Ma-ek looked around at his shipmates and the other ships in his raiding party, sighing quietly. He shook his head, uncomfortable, with his long hair tied in a knot behind his head and tucked tight under his helmet. His hand shook from the cold, damp breeze coming off the water. The grip of his sword bit into his hand, his grip getting ever tighter as the ships drifted closer to shore.

Without a word, the leader of their ship stood from his bench at the stempost of the vessel. He turned to address the men with his gaze, which burned through the night like a beacon. He locked eyes with each man in turn, awaiting their unspoken replies to his silent question. Then his eyes singled out Ma-ek. He could feel the words pierce his mind; “Are you ready?” Ma-ek stood tall to join the rest of the crew, locking his jaw and giving a small curt nod.

Satisfied with his men's silent answers, the leader nodded and turned to face the looming structure. Ma-ek and his fellow men matched their commanders' stance, remaining silent for the final distance. The calm of the night was shattered like a sapling in a storm as the ships bottomed out on the beach. Men jumped to their task. Some leapt from the bow to anchor the boats, others tied down the sails, their arms and armor clinked and rattled as the warriors disembarked. Wood beams groaned as the ships settled into the sand of the shallows. Still not a single word was uttered in the time it took all parties to form up on the bank.

There was a gentle breeze, whispering in the distant trees. The moon shone down on the party as they remained in formation long enough for the commander to survey the fort looming above them. The fort was simple, rough cut large rocks maneuvered into place and fit together like a puzzle. There was little space between each stone, making it resemble one solid slab that had been laid there by a giant. The ground lining the fort was cleared of all debris and vegetation along the sides that did not face the river. The fort was also built with little regard to the river it sat beside. No windows overlooking the water, nor were moors for ships to land present. The only noticeable feature on the water side of the fort were several large pipes protruding from the wall and intermittently exuding a foul liquid. The lowest pipe, half-submerged in the water, led from the water line under the wall and into the fort. The fort was kept dark, with torches spaced distantly apart, making it appear almost uninhabited. Tools for farming and mining were stacked in depots outside the walls for workers to take as their day started.

The party closest to the pipes slowly climbed down into the water, wading quietly to the pipe along the easternmost wall, with the tide gently swirling around them as they went. When all of the infiltrator party was in the water, both breaching parties crouched low to the wall, staying out of sight. Only one among them stood out.

Ma-ek had never been on a raid before but was pressed into it with the recent sickness among those at home. His armor shone with the moon, gleaming, fresh, and oblivious to the realities of combat. His chest thumped harder with each step his party advanced closer to the southern gate. Any feeling of the cold around him or regrets for what they were about to do was gone, drowned by the images of the sick and dying, their bodies floating in the surf. Bodies too numerous to count and so decayed as to suppress the desire to do so. The visions repeated through his mind and those of everyone with him. They all thought of only one thing: Survival.

Ma-ek was crouched low, peering through a space in the gate at the odd proportions of everything when they all heard the signal. A whistling sound reminiscent of a native seabird of their homeland, two-toned and clear. They stood up, backed into the middle of the clearing overlooking the wall, and began to yell. Hoots, whistles, and yips erupted from the members. Some even thumped the flats of their swords against the strip-mail they each wore. Ma-ek yelled until his throat burned but then he imagined the burn of the saltwater driving him to scream even louder. A deep, guttural noise erupted from all of them as the past year’s anguish came flooding out into a roar of raw emotion.

Just as the last time the raiders had used this tactic, the gate facing them exploded out in one sudden movement, barely staying on its hinges in the process. Its defenders came rushing out of the gate. This was a smaller garrison than their last prize, from the look of them. He realized then how different the defenders were from them. Shorter but broader, looking like they were carved from the earth. Eyes that shone like the seas peered out from under large adorned metal helms, with a tall standing ridge of animal fur stripping the top. Their hair was long, dark, and was flowing out from under their helms, while from under the hair on each shoulder rose a vicious hand-tall spike. Each man had a wide stance and large two-handed weapons, like nothing they had ever seen before. Bronze studs protruded from a tree branch-sized haft around the edge of the paddle-shaped head. Each stud was filed to a point along the outermost edge of the head and glistened terribly in the moonlight.

The raiders rushed the silent defenders at a blinding pace, strip-mail rattling as the gap between the two groups closed. Ma-ek was at the point of the wedge, armor gleaming and shooting rays off into the night. They ran at a breakneck pace, intent on cleaving the loose band of defenders in twain. Roaring across the clearing, the survivors sounded like a beast in the night, claws ready to tear flesh asunder, aching to be sated. It felt like eternity blinked and Ma-ek was on them.

They smelled of spoiled honey and sweat, copper and tin—but most of all, smoke. All of their eyes were on him in the low light, as if he was the only one they could see. He ducked under the first swing of a pole weapon, then jumped to the side as another came straight down out of the low light. Missing just barely missing him and cratering the ground with a deep thud. Ma-ek took his chance. Stomping down on the polearm, he used the momentum of the warrior falling forward to thrust his sword under the flailing defender’s breastplate. Warm blood covered the blade and Ma-ek’s hand.

He had little time to think about what he had just done as another short boulder of a man rushed towards him and swung with one of their odd weapons. Doing his best to sink the teeth of his weapon into Ma-ek, he thrust and swung wildly. When it looked like Ma-ek was on his backfoot, the soldier charged like a thundering buffalo, trying to gore the raider with one of his shoulder spikes the same way a sailor would shove a heavy load overboard. Ma-ek stepped just out of reach of the spike and into the outstretched arm of the warrior.

The heavy warrior hit Ma-ek so hard it made two distinct sounds; The sound of his breath leaving his lungs, and the sound of them crashing to the earth. Ma-ek was stunned and now underneath a very heavy, very angry man. Rage boiled in those blue eyes, rage and fear. Ma-ek’s own eyes widened as the warrior grabbed a fi-sized stone ball from his waist and lifted it above his head. The warrior swung down at Ma-ek’s head with lethal force, causing him to flinch and the bodies to appear in his vision again. He opened them in time for a facefull of blood as the warrior’s arm fell to the ground next to his head with a dull thud. The warrior’s eyes were wide in horror, an inhuman howl erupting from his lips as he fell to his side and writhed in pain until all of his life blood fed the earth.

Ma-ek laid there panting heavily, eyes darting left and right, looking for the next attack. When none came, he slowly rose to his feet, dusting the soil from his clothes. He surveyed the clearing when he stood and saw the remnants of the defenders writhing slowly on the dead grass. The gate behind the pile of corpses opened once again, only this time the rest of the survivors exited carrying bundles of food, woodworking tools, and maps of the surrounding areas. He bent and scooped up the round stone and slid it into his waist pocket for later inspection. As he was scooping up the stone, he heard the crunch of dead grass under approaching boots and the soft clink of mail. He glanced up to see the looming figure of his commander and his stern eyes looking down at him, something he hadn’t been able to do since Ma-ek was a child.

“Yes, father?” Ma-ek whispered as he returned upright. Looking anywhere but his fa—commander’s face.

“You almost died, We can not afford to lose another healthy raider, and you know that, Ma-ek,” his father almost spat, eyes blazing as his teeth ground audibly. “You passed, but just barely. Next time, you can darken your armor. It'll be another's turn to distract them.” On the tail of those words, his father turned and stormed off, shifting back to their commander before his eyes.

Ma-ek’s eyes, having adjusted to the low light, began to scan the clearing. He looked for any signs of their having been there and removed them. While scouring the clearing, he found a muddy trail and broken branches leading off into the forest. The prints were man, but not quite right. Bending down to inspect them closer, Ma-ek heard it. A low groan from just inside the tree line. He crept forward, silently drawing his knife as he approached. Almost crawling now, he inched forward and used his knife to ease aside a small pine branch. Just under the pine was a collapsed heap of rags and flesh and mud. It slowly rose, giving away its life. Ma-ek glanced back over his shoulder, as if wondering if he should leave.

“Father will see I can think strategically,” he said as he lifted the surprisingly light form onto his shoulder and turned back to the boats. He looked over the fort one last time, to see his father and men putting everything that will burn to the torch. “Looks like we both got what we want, what do you say?” He says thumping the passed out figure on his shoulder jovially. “You get to live, and we get to survive.”