Unaware.

Sven, Unaware of the happenings in the North, continues his quest.
   Sailing far to the West in accordance with the translations of The Book of the Cup, He lands at a headland marked by the statue of a man, some 5 men high, and marches inland to find the Temple of the Old Ones, inside he finds a gilded metal trunk, but finds it has no lock or other means of opening it.
  Selecting two of his strongest crewmen to carry it, he prepares to return to the ship.

   Outside, as his eyes adjust to the bright sunlight, he sees his crew manning a defensive perimeter.
All is quiet, perhaps too quiet.

Forming two groups they move off through the jungle.

The lead man in Sven`s group feels the earth move beneath his feet, frantically he tries to grab something, anything to stop his fall, but fails. Sven eases forward and looks down to see a hunters trap has claimed his man.
     Years of sailing, raiding and fighting in the shieldwall, ended on a sharpened wooden stake.

Shouting at the flank group to take extra care, and warning the men behind to watch their step.Sven leads his men onward. 

                                                                                                                        

The men nervously obey, and therefore do not see from where a flurry of arrows originates, fortunately only minor wounds are suffered, The benefits of wearing mail in the stifling heat have been proved,

Peering around them, they can see nothing, but arrows continue to rain down on them.

There is nothing to do but move forward,Suddenly around a bend in the track they see a fallen tree defended by a group of spearmen. At first glance they appear to be vikings. A rival band perhaps.

As the lead troops draw closer, they see native faces beneath the helmets, other vikings, perhaps people they knew,have been here before, and never left.

Does this fate await them?

As arrows continue to fall they rush the barrier, whilst some of Svens group attempt to get round the flank

Sword, spears and shields clash,defenders fall.

As the flank attack goes in the remnants of the defenders, retreat, casting aside their spears they continue to fire volleys of arrows at Sven`s men.

The way ahead seems clear, dragging their wounded and the treasure, exhausted by the heat and flies, sweat running down their faces, They march grimly on. Will they ever reach the ship?

        The marker statue comes in sight spirits rise.

A few yards further, and they come in sight of the sea, in the bay below them they see the welcome sight of the furled sail and ships guard, Almost there, they know that the hands of the gods still stand poised to strike.

As they leave behind this cursed land and yearn for the cold crispness of their homelands, only a few do not think of friends and family, and wonder what lies within the chest they struggled so much to find.