The Rovers

"... and then he said 'I asked her for water but she gave me gasoline!'" the crowd burst into laughter, genuine mirth gripped them. The young man leaned back in his slatted chair, soaking up the early Summer sunlight. Around him were the holiday makers, just out of the amusement arcades and now enjoying a refreshing drink at the 'Captain's Table'.

It was full of kids running in and out of the tables, old ladies remembering the days of their youth and the Victorian ideals over the seaside. The young man gazed out at the pier, it stretched out into the haze of the estuary, fishing boats and yachts bobbing about in the slight swell. She was late, the young man hadn't really expected her to turn up. But there again if you never ask!

The young man stretched out his long legs around a pile of buckets, sipped his cool drink and tried to loose himself out at sea. It was without much success as it happened. A ship attracted his attention, just rounding the pier. It sped along, low hulled, white water cresting as the bow cut through it. There were rowers, no engine. A Viking Dragon ship. A long ship on the Thames, it must be a tourist attraction or a scientific test he thought, there haven't been Vikings on this river for centuries.

The side of the pier was soon lined with waving crowds, but the ship surged shoreward, seemingly right towards the Captain's Table. As they got closer he could make out the garishly painted dragon, twenty oars on each side, fifty men aboard. It raced up the beach scraping on the shingle, the vikings leapt out and hauled their vessel up the sand.

The crew, dressed in furs, chainmail, leather and homespun, certainly looked authentic. They came towards the bar, all in a jovial mood, back slapping and laughing, shaking their swords. The leader came into the bar and roared for something which sounded like beer. He took a sack from his lieutenant and produced a cascade of gold coins and waving his arms in an expansive manner again cried for beer. Beer all round. The captain came and sat by the young man, it being the only seat free and downed his pint. The bartenders sweated to accommodate their colossal thirst, the bars down the arcade joined in. Alcohol flowed freely. The tourists soon joined and a party atmosphere developed. Dancing, singing, laughing, cars were stopped and the drivers dragged out, they soon joined in. The people who lived in the flats on the road overhead came down to see what the fuss was about. Tourists streamed up the esplanade, the word was out, it was party time.

The generosity of the vikings knew no bounds, gold coin followed gold coin, the sun started to sink and the vikings drank on. Where they found the coins was a mystery to the young man but they soon had a barbecue going, nothing for the vegetarians though.

The captain had kept up a constant chatter to the young man and as he got drunker it seemed as if the barbaric words were starting to make sense.

He took another swig and watched a burly viking drink a pint of creme de menthe.

"Are you having a good time yar?"

"Yes I am, better than for many years"

"We always have a good time, where ever we go" it was the captain talking still in his ancient tongue but the young man could understand every word.

"Where are you from?" a question which hadn't seemed important before.

"We sail the years, like we do the seas. You seem to be a personable young man, even for an English man. I'll tell you our tale, we have to tell one, it's part of the weird. You see we're fated to sail the seas for ever."

The young man settled back and lost himself in the Viking's words, as the spell settled over him, it seemed the party faded from his consciousness, all he could do was dream the captain's tale.

"The vikings come from a hard land, short summers and harsh winters. Crowded by the glaciers, the mountains and the sea, above all the sea. Beset by elves and trolls, hunted by bears and wolves. But the hardy folk of the fjords fought the fairy folk and drove them into the stony wastes. The wolves turned into the hunted and many a scarred warrior was kept warm in the winter with a bear skin cloak.

Soon they outgrew the land and they took to the seas, to raid, plunder, conquer. We were feared over all he oceans, famed for our daring and skill. I took to the seas early and soon carved out a bloody name for myself. I was there when the Swedes' great fleet was afraid to meet us, we destroyed them like a winter storm. I fought in England against noble fighters, the Danes, the fearsome Scots and the naked Irish. We looted the palaces of the Frog Kings, we bashed in the Mediterranean as we hunted the Venicians and Moorts. They all feared us.

I gathered a crew to me, all with great feats of arms behind them. Together we aimed to shake the world! We sailed to the land of fire, we hunted whales, fought the gigantic sea serpents and terrified the savages of the Newfoundland. No quest or adventure was too much, too great for us. Many sagas were written telling of our exploits. I slew many of the ice giants, we stole the gold from the forges of the dwarves. Siegfried himself did nothing greater, no where were we overshadowed.

And then came our greatest feat, we went into Valhalla, while yet we lived, and feasted with the fallen. The fire giants stole the daughter of one of the mighty Vanir and held her against all assault. My crew and I walked in there and escorted the lady out, leaving the giants in gory piles. We sailed to the land of the Midnight Sun and trekked for many days over plains of ice and crevesse, the land of the snow bear. Finally through he mighty blizzard we came to the Rainbow Bridge and ascended the silver staircase to the realm of the gods.

We met Thor upon Bifrost and he escorted us into the halls of Odin in triumph. Great was our welcome, feasting and carousing. I talked with Odin, with Tyr, I threw dice with Loki, we feasted with our dead brothers and fair Valkyrie. Then we found our doom, our fate. We tasted the beer of Valhalla, like nectar it was, indescribable pleasure in every quaff. Soon the time came for us to go, for mortal man cannot spend long with the dead, or as one he becomes. We were loathe to go, to return to the mortal world, but Odin made us.

Down Bifrost into the glittering wastes of snow back to our mortal existence and acclaim. We were haunted by our memories, we tried to forget ourselves in feasts and wenching, but this made the longing for those unworldly pleasures all the more urgent. No mortal beer could compare with that drink of the gods. Brewed from the stuff of the stars themselves.

We conspired and lit upon a plan to relieve these torments, as the lack gnawed at our vitals. Once more we travelled over the lands of ice and the Midnight Sun lit our way. We climbed up the Rainbow Bridge, but Valhalla was barred to us, high walls of stone surrounded its fair halls. In vain we beat upon the gates, we wailed and moaned, all to no avail. The gods would now admit no heroes lest they were dead. Tyr drove u from the gates with his mighty spear and we sped down to Earth.

Long we debated and argued. Some said 'let us go and fight the giants, let us fight the trolls, let us fight the English and in time die as heroes, so that we may again dwell in Valhalla with gods'. Many went and did these things.

Others said let us forget the taste of pleasure and live our lives on the land. Many went and did this, although they were all sad.

Then I said 'let us again drink from Thor's cup whilst still alive. Let us go into Valhalla by devious means and bring the beer back with us. The whole of the world would rejoice. Why must the gods keep this away from us while we yet live, do we not deserve it. A few brave souls stayed, those which were immersed in their fate. The call of the beer was upon us.

Long we searched, enduring great hardships, again achieving everlasting fame, if we'd been set upon a mortal goal we could have ruled the world, but we were driven on. Forever onwards, searching for a way to Valhalla, unguarded and secret.

We travelled to the wastes of Siberia to consult the primitive shamans, we dug up long dead wizards, resurrecting their brief lives to question them and learn. We travelled to the great libraries and universities, always seeking to learn from obscure hermetic texts. For years it seemed as if our glorious quest would be in vain, but then following a tenuous spoor, as a hunter does when tracking a wolf, we went down to the very gates of Hell's domain. We sought a sorcerer from the early days of history and man's thought. He laughed when he heard our wish, as we stood there surrounded by the gibbering insanities of those who failed to get to Valhalla, there was no beer to quaff in the underworld!

Through his mirth he told us what to do, a devious plan, then he strolled away, kicking his slave souls. We laughed at his retreating back, a man with so much knowledge, residing in a roaring inferno, screams of the damned echoing around ones head every moment. Where as we were going to Valhalla, while yet alive, to sample its delights. However, perhaps he liked it down there, in certain ways it is better than our fate.

We set about our cunning plan, collecting various herbs and potions from far off Cathay. Then weaving the skins of the dead we fell upon an army of Englishmen. A glorious battle. One hundred men against and army of stalwart warriors. Many of us died under the axes of the English. They called us madmen, berserkers, but desperate were we. The rest of us drank our potions and in the heat of the battle fell down as if dead.

The English were fooled by our act and took away their dead to be buried. Us they left on the heath, they would not touch madmen. The Valkyries came down, we heard their steel wings and thinking we were dead bore us up, through the ether to that which we yearned. That for which we had made our lives quest was almost in our grasp.

Up we went, past the clouds and the moon, to the great halls of the gods. Our fallen comrades made no sign that we were yet alive, and we joined in the feasting as if we had actually fallen in battle. The gods greeted us as great heroes, clapping us on the back and giving us the choicest cuts.

Then when everybody slept on the benches, wrapped in bear skins, we stole through our dead comrades to the brewery, there we took down the barrels, vast hogsheads which would last a lifetime or more. Loading them all on a cart we trundled it to the gates and slowly opened them. There lay the Rainbow Bridge before us, we cheered and moved forward, the long quest was over. But then all about us were the Valkyries, beautiful women with bright swords, the dead armies and the terrible gods. Their wrath was great and we feared more than mere death, they set us asail on the seas of time in a great dragon ship. Never to settle, always to sail on with the setting sun, never to die, never to enjoy the beer!"

The young man woke with a start, all around him were the signs of the drunken revel, puddles of beer, piles of vomit, sleeping drinkers. Of the vikings there was no sign, they had sailed on to further parties to the end of time.

The young man finished his pint, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He looked up and a thoughtful look descended on his face.