Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or the 13th warrior
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Chapter one: the Norse.
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"The Tartars are coming! The Tartars are coming!" the scout shouted as he rode towards the caravan. The people panicked and turned to run.
Quatre looked at the horizon to see the coming of the Tartars.
"This is insane," he said as he nudged his white Arabian towards the fleeing group.
"That's the whole point," Rashid said as he followed him. "In the countless women in all of Baghdad why did you pick someone who is already married?"
"Later," Quatre said as he sprinted away from the bandits. As they crossed the ridge, they were relieved that the Tartars didn't pursue them any longer.
"Why do you think they stopped?' Quatre asked.
"Probably because of that," Rashid said as he nodded towards the river. What Quatre saw, awed him.
From the mist of the river a great dragon emerged with its head proud and its eyes fierce. But it would not harm anyone. Not unless the riders of the dragon jumped from its back and attacked them.
"Who are they?" Quatre asked as the 'dragon' swam further.
"Norsemen," Rashid said. "Great seamen from the north."
"Are they dangerous?"
"Maybe," Rashid said. "If you get on their good side they may well be friendly."
"What do you know about them?" Quatre asked nervously.
"Not much," Rashid said.
"That's a lot of help," he sighed. "Damn. I'm an ambassador. I'm supposed to talk to someone."
"You may get the chance," Rashid said as they came upon a Norse camp.
Quatre swallowed and sighed.
"Set up camp."
***
Later in the night, Quatre emerged from his tent and met Rashid standing by the entrance.
"What now?"
"We meet with them," Rashid said as he fixed his robes. Quatre looked at the Norse's tent and gaped.
It looked like a feast gone wild. Literally.
Sighing, Quatre walked towards the tent as Rashid followed.
"What do you think they call their leader?" Quatre asked.
"Emperor, at least," Rashid said unsurely.
"You're not sure?"
"All I heard was stories," Rashid said.
"If all goes wrong, we may be in those stories," Quatre sighed.
"I hope my children reads it," Rashid smirked.
"Let's do this," Quatre said and they entered the tent.
Inside was like the greatest dream of sin that Allah forbid.
Everyone was laughing as if they had no care in the world. Quatre thought the probably didn't. Wine and meat filled the tables as the Norse ate like there was no tomorrow. The women were seducing the men while they... let's just say they were doing some ungentlemanly conduct.
"What now?" Quatre asked.
"We talk," Rashid smiled. "Excuse me?" he said to one of the Norse. "Where is your king?" but the man ignored him.
He tired again with another but they were still ignored. Quatre sighed and tapped Rashid on the shoulder.
"Try Greek," he suggested. Rashid nodded and asked another man in Greek. The man was taller than Quatre and had a silent feature. Quatre didn't understand the Northern hairstyles for this man's dark brown hair was covering half his face.
The man looked at them strangely and walked towards an almost drunk man with a single brown long braid. The braided man looked up and the man with half of his face covered nodded to the Arab's direction.
Rashid asked again his question to the braided man. Smiling in recognition, the man answered.
"He says that their king is in the tent outside," Rashid translated. "But he will not see us."
"Why?" Quatre asked. The man noticing their confusion talked again.
"He will not see us because he is dead," Rashid said as he looked at Quatre. "Apparently, this is his funeral." The braided man smiled and looked at them.
Quatre noticed another man on the head of the table looking at them. He felt a chill in his bone as the man looked at him. It was like he was colder than winter nights and was deadlier than a dreaded beast.
The braided man saw his gaze and talked to him.
"He said that that is Heero. Son of Yuy, the king. He is the heir and the most powerful warrior," Rashid said.
"Heero," Quatre muttered. Suddenly, the people stood and walked out. Quatre was greatly confused.
"The funeral procession is about to start," Rashid said. Curious, They followed.
Quatre saw people carrying a body into a boat. Some brought weapons others food and wine. He was particularly interested at the white gowned woman that they also carried.
The woman spoke.
The braided man translated.
And so did Rashid.
"Lo there do I see my father, lo there do I see my mother, brothers and sisters,"
Quatre looked in awe.
"Lo there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning,"
Quatre sensed the power in their words.
"Lo do they call to me, they bid me to take my place with them in the halls of Valhalla where the brave may live forever."
"She will travel with him," Rashid translated. "You will not see this again for it is the old way."
The people left the barge and set it ablaze.
Quatre watched in sorrowful awe as the fire consumed the barge.
The king's spirit was on his way to Valhalla.
.
End of 1.
.
A/n: So? How was it? Please review.
.
Chapter one: the Norse.
.
"The Tartars are coming! The Tartars are coming!" the scout shouted as he rode towards the caravan. The people panicked and turned to run.
Quatre looked at the horizon to see the coming of the Tartars.
"This is insane," he said as he nudged his white Arabian towards the fleeing group.
"That's the whole point," Rashid said as he followed him. "In the countless women in all of Baghdad why did you pick someone who is already married?"
"Later," Quatre said as he sprinted away from the bandits. As they crossed the ridge, they were relieved that the Tartars didn't pursue them any longer.
"Why do you think they stopped?' Quatre asked.
"Probably because of that," Rashid said as he nodded towards the river. What Quatre saw, awed him.
From the mist of the river a great dragon emerged with its head proud and its eyes fierce. But it would not harm anyone. Not unless the riders of the dragon jumped from its back and attacked them.
"Who are they?" Quatre asked as the 'dragon' swam further.
"Norsemen," Rashid said. "Great seamen from the north."
"Are they dangerous?"
"Maybe," Rashid said. "If you get on their good side they may well be friendly."
"What do you know about them?" Quatre asked nervously.
"Not much," Rashid said.
"That's a lot of help," he sighed. "Damn. I'm an ambassador. I'm supposed to talk to someone."
"You may get the chance," Rashid said as they came upon a Norse camp.
Quatre swallowed and sighed.
"Set up camp."
***
Later in the night, Quatre emerged from his tent and met Rashid standing by the entrance.
"What now?"
"We meet with them," Rashid said as he fixed his robes. Quatre looked at the Norse's tent and gaped.
It looked like a feast gone wild. Literally.
Sighing, Quatre walked towards the tent as Rashid followed.
"What do you think they call their leader?" Quatre asked.
"Emperor, at least," Rashid said unsurely.
"You're not sure?"
"All I heard was stories," Rashid said.
"If all goes wrong, we may be in those stories," Quatre sighed.
"I hope my children reads it," Rashid smirked.
"Let's do this," Quatre said and they entered the tent.
Inside was like the greatest dream of sin that Allah forbid.
Everyone was laughing as if they had no care in the world. Quatre thought the probably didn't. Wine and meat filled the tables as the Norse ate like there was no tomorrow. The women were seducing the men while they... let's just say they were doing some ungentlemanly conduct.
"What now?" Quatre asked.
"We talk," Rashid smiled. "Excuse me?" he said to one of the Norse. "Where is your king?" but the man ignored him.
He tired again with another but they were still ignored. Quatre sighed and tapped Rashid on the shoulder.
"Try Greek," he suggested. Rashid nodded and asked another man in Greek. The man was taller than Quatre and had a silent feature. Quatre didn't understand the Northern hairstyles for this man's dark brown hair was covering half his face.
The man looked at them strangely and walked towards an almost drunk man with a single brown long braid. The braided man looked up and the man with half of his face covered nodded to the Arab's direction.
Rashid asked again his question to the braided man. Smiling in recognition, the man answered.
"He says that their king is in the tent outside," Rashid translated. "But he will not see us."
"Why?" Quatre asked. The man noticing their confusion talked again.
"He will not see us because he is dead," Rashid said as he looked at Quatre. "Apparently, this is his funeral." The braided man smiled and looked at them.
Quatre noticed another man on the head of the table looking at them. He felt a chill in his bone as the man looked at him. It was like he was colder than winter nights and was deadlier than a dreaded beast.
The braided man saw his gaze and talked to him.
"He said that that is Heero. Son of Yuy, the king. He is the heir and the most powerful warrior," Rashid said.
"Heero," Quatre muttered. Suddenly, the people stood and walked out. Quatre was greatly confused.
"The funeral procession is about to start," Rashid said. Curious, They followed.
Quatre saw people carrying a body into a boat. Some brought weapons others food and wine. He was particularly interested at the white gowned woman that they also carried.
The woman spoke.
The braided man translated.
And so did Rashid.
"Lo there do I see my father, lo there do I see my mother, brothers and sisters,"
Quatre looked in awe.
"Lo there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning,"
Quatre sensed the power in their words.
"Lo do they call to me, they bid me to take my place with them in the halls of Valhalla where the brave may live forever."
"She will travel with him," Rashid translated. "You will not see this again for it is the old way."
The people left the barge and set it ablaze.
Quatre watched in sorrowful awe as the fire consumed the barge.
The king's spirit was on his way to Valhalla.
.
End of 1.
.
A/n: So? How was it? Please review.