Twenty-One Years Ago...

The darkness was interrupted by a cacophony of sounds. There were a number of dull thuds, raised voices, an almighty crack followed by more voices. Then one voice drifted through the darkness. A women's voice, full of love but urgent. His mother's voice.

Coren opened his eyes, but it was still nighttime and dark in the bedroom. He could hear a noise coming from downstairs, loud sounds of things breaking. He turned and saw his mother next to him, her arm on his shoulder shaking him, her voice urgent and afraid.

"Coren. Wake up. Please wake up", she whispered desperately, the air rattling and whistling through clenched teeth. "You need to get up and hide. They're coming Coren. Please, hide for your mother. Before it's too late".

Coren opened his eyes wider, his sight becoming accustomed to the gloom. He looked more closely at his mother and saw the obvious distress and utter fear in her face. He scrambled out of the sheets.

"What is it, ma?" Coren asked keeping his voice low. He could hear footsteps on the stairs; numerous dull thuds as whoever had entered their house came nearer. He could also hear harsh, deep voices shouting and calling out.

"Please Coren love" his mother replied, not explaining anything. Coren knew something was wrong, that someone was attacking their house. "Under the bed, son. Hide underneath before they come in".

Coren wanted to ask more questions, wanted to comfort his mother, but for now did what she asked. He nodded and quickly scrambled under the bed. And just as he had pulled himself under, the door to the room burst open with a crash.

From under the bed, Coren could see the light of a torch flicker on the floor and the bottom of the walls. A pair of black, ragged leather boots was illuminated in the dull light. The boots slowed as they entered the room, approaching the bed but not quite reaching it.

"Ahahaha!" cackled a voice, probably from the wearer of the boots. "Arr, now. What 'ave we 'ere then? Let's see. A fair maiden, eh? A lass fit for a sailor?"

The voice sounded harsh and cruel, rasping with evil intent. The boots moved around the bed a little and approached his mother.

"Get away from me, you bastard!" his mother swore. Coren had never heard her use such words nor speak in such a forthright, venomous manner. Her threat was punctuated by a smash as she threw something at the man.

"Come 'ere, bitch" the man's voice spat. There was a brief scuffle and his mother gasped out loud. The brawl subsided a little and the man called out.

"Cap'n! I've found a woman 'ere!" he yelled.

A moment later, another pair of boots entered the room. These were of better quality and brightly polished. The gleaming boots walked slowly across the room and stopped at the side of the bed.

"Ah yes" the new voice said. This voice had a smoother, sleeker, deeper quality to it that reeked of authority. It resonated in the small room.

"A strong woman. Feisty. Well done on finding her, Ragnar" he said. His mother mumbled something, her voice smothered by something, but Coren could not hear what she said.

After a short pause, the voice of the 'captain' then added, "But I think you've missed something Ragnar".

Suddenly a face and then a strong hand appeared under the bed. Coren tried to shuffle away from them but the hand shot out and grabbed him. It then yanked Coren out from under the bed, lifted him up and held him by the throat.

The man who had hold of Coren was a tall man, with a small, dark beard and a patch covering his left eye. He wore a long dark coat over shirt and breeches. A gleaming cutlass and a number of long daggers hung from a sturdy weapons belt. The man's grip was very strong, so strong in fact that Coren had trouble breathing.

Still, Coren tried to thrash about to get out of the man's grip. He swung his short arms at the man and tried to kick him. But it was to no avail. The more Coren fought, the tighter the grip, and the less breath entered Coren's lungs. He was beginning to get light-headed.

"Well, well, well" said the man with the eye-patch, carefully scrutinising Coren with his remaining eye. "What have we here? A young, healthy boy. A strong one at that. Very strong. And a fighter too".

The captain chuckled. His free hand darted out and grabbed Coren's two smaller fists. "Now, now boy", he said quietly, "stop fighting me or I'll snap that bullish neck of yours".

The captain looked across the room. Coren followed his gaze and saw a smaller, rougher man in gray holding his mother. The man's left arm was around her neck and his right hand held a long thin dagger to her throat. The other man was also holding his mother so tightly that she was having trouble breathing.

"So, Ragnar" the captain spoke up suddenly, "do you think the Dragonlords, with their needs and vices, will have a use for a strong, young boy like this?"

The other man laughed raucously. "Aye, Cap'n", he answered. "They'll get a lot of uses out of 'im. But what about the woman?"

The captain glanced at Coren briefly and then looked across at the other man and his mother. He seemed to consider things for a moment before coming to his decision.

"You and the men can do what you want with her", he replied. "But be quick. There is nothing more of value here".

The one-eyed captain shifted his grip on Coren and pulled him out of the room. Pushing him in front of him, the man forced Coren down the hallway towards the stairs. And as he began down the steps, Coren heard the last thing he'd ever hear from his mother - her choked scream screeching out his name.