Girthir Norsethrust: The Trial of the Sex

  Copyright 2017 Nicholas Everritt

  Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

  I’d be interested to hear your thoughts, comments and feedback on the book – please send to [email protected]

  Chapter One: Girthir and Wise King Fekk

  Upon the wind-blasted isle of Hyrdyrgyrdyr, within the mighty hall Skargarmjal, wise old King Fekk lamented to his assembled huscarls.

  “Woe and lamentation! Curses and qualms!” he railed, clutching at his white beard. “What a weight rests upon my weary shoulders. What terrible times indeed, terrible tidings, terrible troubles!”

  The huscarls sought to assuage their king, but wise King Fekk would not listen.

  “I am beset on all sides by monsters and ill tidings. The terrible Grabug drags off my warriors to its lair in the swamps. The maddening Jibberjabber molests my huntsmen in the forest. And the foul Krayken assails my ships in the fjords. And there is not a man in my entire household who is manful enough to best these mighty she-beasts. Curses that such terrible times should befall my rule!”

  The huscarls shuffled their feet and looked at each other awkwardly, though none offered their swords to the king. None volunteered to see off those terrible beasts, for they all knew that they were not manly enough for the task, for it was a task only the manliest of men could hope to achieve.

  Many others were in attendance besides those bashful huscarls. Servants, serfs and attendants filled out the great hall, lit by a roaring fire, along with many comely maiden-wenches. The King’s wife, who was the Queen, sat at his side, and she was most comely also. All were crestfallen to see their beloved king beset by such ill tidings.

  The brave huscarl Swordswain could no longer bear to hear his king’s lamentations. “My King,” he declared, striding forth, “I offer my sword to you, and I shall undertake this quest on your behalf. Though I fear that, though I may be fairly manly by most standards, I am surely not manly enough to succeed. Nonetheless I pledge my life to this terrible labour…And shall no doubt die in the attempt.”

  “Stay your blade, fair Swordswain,” spoke wise King Fekk, “you are a brave lad and strong-limbed too by all accounts, but as you say your manliness falls short of the standard required to defeat these she-beasts. It would take such a man, of such masculinity, such length and such virility, that I doubt there is any man manly enough in all of the Norselands!”

  As King Fekk spoke his world-weary words the doors of the great hall swung open, and a chill wind and flakes of snow blustered in. All eyes turned to the mighty silhouette of the man who entered, one manly step at a time.

  Those in attendance gasped as they set eyes upon Girthir Norsethrust. He was a tall and muscular man, battle-scarred and ripped. He was long of hair and full of beard. He had brown eyes, wild like the sea, and yet brown instead of blue/green. He wore nought but a horned helmet and a loin cloth which did little to conceal his tremendous manhood. A sword, no less manly than his member, was at his side.

  To look upon him, all the women in the hall would surely have wanted to make sex with him, and most of the men too, though Girthir would surely turn down their advances, for as we shall soon establish Girthir was entirely straight, that is he had much sex with many women but did not have sex with men, and indeed had never even contemplated doing so, not that there’s anything wrong with that.

  Following him into the hall was his dogsbody Barry, though nobody would have noticed him beside manly Girthir. He was a scrawny homunculus of a man. If he had a penis at all it was surely very small, and if he’d ever had sex with a woman, which was a far-fetched prospect indeed, she would surely not have enjoyed it very much.

  Girthir maintained a masculine silence, and so the less-manly, yes undeniably wise, King Fekk addressed him.

  “Who are ye, warrior, and what brings you to my fair, though ill-fated, isle? Speak!”

  “I am Girthir Norsethrust.” he said. His voice was deep and manly, and so it stirred the ladyparts of those in attendance who had them. “I heard tell of a quest which only the manliest of warriors can hope to accomplish.”

  “It is so…Oh, such a terrible quest…” said the King, his head in his hands.

  “I shall complete this glorious quest.” declared Girthir, and as he did so he stared broodingly into the middle distance.

  “Avast and avail!” said the King (