The longboat moored flush against the river bank, and tied securely in place by two thick ropes to a couple of large oak trees, Ert had to now catch up with the rest of the crew who’d wasted no time in disembarking.
They’d headed upstream toward the tiny hamlet Modlinium, a fortified Roman village that seemed totally out of place with the surroundings. Ert could hear his fellow travellers through the thick mist that had suddenly descended ahead, as they sang and shouted to each other, but as soon as he stepped into the thickening fog all he heard was silence.
The freezing moisture around him chilled Ert to the bone, so he pulled his skins closer and walked forward, although he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face; he was sure he was nearing the wall to the village, but didn’t seem to get there.
Regardless, he trundled onward, goatskin boots squelching through the muddy track beneath his feet, when a sudden bright light ahead caused him to tightly close his eyes and stop moving.
When he opened his eyes, the light, the fog, the track, the riverbank, and the village were nowhere to be seen… replaced by strange brick buildings, many storeys high… although Ert didn’t have time to comprehend where he was, as a large metallic bird roared overhead, snapping his consciousness back to the sodden riverbank and the shouts from his fellow shipmen.
Denise’s chosen word for this week’s Six Sentence Stories is Flush. The image for this post is an AI created image, which links two times together nicely, and was the inspiration behind this short story. Maybe we’ll see more of Ert in the future… time will tell.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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