The Bright One with the Strong Hand

The crowd hushed when the Wildman appeared. He looked nothing like them, matted, shaggy hair and beard and covered in filth but with the eyes so blue even those in the top tier stopped speaking to marvel at their shine. Opponents fell meekly before him. First one, then two, then three, until the corpses formed a hill high enough for this blood covered savage to climb and look the emperor in the eye. Declared a free man and hero, the Wildman left the city, leading two heavy-shouldered oxen dragging a creaking cart heavy with food, steel, furs, wine and gold.


Prompt courtesy of the Friday Fictioneers. Read more stories here.


9 thoughts on “The Bright One with the Strong Hand

  1. Dear Craig,

    Here’s what I see. The Wildman returns to Germania and rallies the disparate tribes there and eventually they bleed their former conquerors until the empire falls. Tell me I am wrong.

    Fantastic story.



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