Page 7 - SagaOfBarak1

upon the stout door with the great boars head iron ring inset there. The stern faced
man waited only for but a moment before banging once again, this time though
the warrior knocked a little louder and a little harder.
‘Will you open up these gates now for me you foolish rustics?’ the large
warrior demanded gruffly. ‘Or must I tear the very things down myself to gain
entry here?’ The rider roared this out somewhat impatiently. ‘For I must say to
you all now, I do have upon me the most ravenous of hungers. Aye, and also an
even more powerful throat-burning thirst. Oh yes, and also fools, as well as these
immediate needs. Well, I would most urgently bathe myself in the very hottest
of soapy sudsy scented waters. Not though that I would expect many, if any, of
you earth worshiping ditch dogs to understand that pressing need of course.’ The
huge man rumbled these words out with just the slightest hint of a sarcastic
chuckle. From behind the great gates the big man’s keen ears could hear
movement and men talking nervously in hushed whispered voices. And the large
warrior by the by, was now becoming more than a little irritable.

Of a sudden an armed guard shouted down a little timidly an order from the
battlement above to the guarded gateway below. And then, almost at once the
thick heavy oak doors began to creak themselves slowly open.
Rumbling and grumbling the big man spat, then the warrior growled and
grunted with discontent. Aye and all of this while he cursed out loudly at being
kept waiting for so long a period of time. A moment later when once this
complaining was done the warrior urged his big mount on with a nudge to its
ribs and it trotted forward into the castles stone cobbled forecourt. As ever the
big grey mules followed on behind the large mounted warrior, obediently in tow.
Once inside the stout gates the big man yawned as he looked all about him.
Seemingly the warrior was taking in all and everything at a single glance of his
dark eyes. When this observation was done with the huge man looked down from
his saddle a little reproachfully at those who stood there before him. Now this
huge horseman looked down at the five castle guardsmen standing there a little
uneasy and more than a little cowed before him. The very big horseman atop the
big chestnut gelding knew only one man of their number. And that man was
Hubert. Hubert was a long time soldier and servant of the castle, and was the
eldest of the small group of most dejected looking men. Hubert, well it must be
said this particular castle guardian indeed looked a most sorry forlorn and
downcast figure. Aye indeed, he appeared to be a worn out weary looking shell
of a man, a man who was perhaps starved of many a good night’s sleep. As well
as the weary looking Hubert there were also two young Britons with a most vacant
expression about them. It was an expression these young men wore whilst they
were stood standing there quaking in their worn out boots. These badly bred
looking things, well the pair of them were little more than spotty gangly nervous
fidgety looking youths. Youths, who, by their stale and earthy stench were also
infrequent bathers, and strangers to soapy water. Meanwhile the other two brave
and noble guardians of the castle gates, who were a little older than the rank

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