Viking stories are exciting, aren’t they? All that fighting
and pillaging and exploring. And who doesn’t love a Viking ship? Sleek and
iconic, we tend to think of them as pulling into some bay or harbour and
wreaking havoc in nearby villages and settlements. We sometimes forget that
they were also often attacked by others at sea – they definitely lived a
dangerous life! One of the great things about historical fiction is that the
stakes are often so high – with no rescue service, or hospitals, or mobile phones.
Basically, life was a lot more dangerous in the centuries gone by.
A viking ship (Illustration by Annie Glennie)
When my Viking book The Chessmen Thief was sent off
to the printers, I asked my editor: ‘Now that we’re done, can you tell me –
which part of the book do you actually like best?’
She thought for a moment. ‘The action scenes,’ she answered
simply.
‘Me too.’
It’s true: a memorable action scene works like a quick
turbocharge of energy, giving your story new momentum.
I am not suggesting that I am an expert at all – there are
far more talented and experienced authors for children around. But I am more
than happy to share what I have learned so far. Ladies and gentlemen, for what
it’s worth, here is how an action scene should work. I am drawing on chapters
13 and 14 of The Chessmen Thief to show what I mean. 😊
To give you some context, Kylan (my slave boy and
protagonist) is on a Viking longship sailing from Norway to Scotland with his
boss, Jarl Magnus.
Step 1: You need one or two sentences of calm atmosphere.
Then introduce the threat.
When the wind picks up and carries us in the exact
direction we want to go, we step away from the oars and relax. I climb the
first level of the mast where I like it the best. No one judges me there or
asks me questions.
Until I see it in the distance. Unmistakeable: another
vessel, making straight for us.
The Chessmen pieces at the British Museum that inspired my book
Step 2: Take a moment to describe your character’s
reaction. It works best if the other characters do not recognise the danger. This
technique is called dramatic irony – the reader understands more than most of the
characters do, which makes for great tension.
My stomach tumbles and my lungs do something they have
never done before: refuse to inhale and exhale. Instead, a strange kind of
panting is all I am capable of, with the weight of all the oceans in the world
on my heart.
‘Raiders!’ I shout, but all that emerges from my throat
is a croak. The men below are singing and sharing a quick horn of ale before
their muscle power is required again. ‘Raiders!’ I yell, a little louder, but
still no one pays me any heed.
Step 3: Crank up the jeopardy. The reader needs to
understand what is at stake.
As the ship approaches, I can see the straggly beards of
men who have lived long apart from any kind of company. Their swords are rusty
but sharp. There are spears, axes and halberds, and all manner of weapons.
At the front, almost leaning over the hull of their
galley, are three raiders with coils of rope around their bodies, ready to
throw weighted hooks across—and only now do I see what the front of their ship
is made of! It’s not water glistening on the wood—it is reinforced with iron
spikes, and they mean to ram us! ‘TURN THE SHIP!’ I yell down with all my
might.
Step 4: Give your protagonist something to do.
Suddenly, I am pulled off my feet backwards, the huge
hand of the Jarl on my shoulder. ‘Here, boy!’ He thrusts something into my
hand, slicing into my palm a little as he does: a dagger, and oh Lord, it is
sharp!
The beautiful Isle of Lewis where the chessmen were found
Step 5: The best action scenes have a brave protagonist.
With a terrible clang, a huge metal hook lands over the
side of our ship, a rope attached. It tautens almost immediately: the raiders
are pulling our ship towards theirs, weapons in hand.
Our men scatter and take refuge, but something possesses
me to do exactly the opposite. Darting to avoid the missiles and arrows, I run
towards the hooks and slash at the rope attaching the ships to one another.
Number 6: You can’t beat a cliffhanger.
With a final gasping effort, this rope, too, snaps. The
enemy ship is only two horse-lengths away. Soon a warrior of strength and
stature will be able to jump. Oh no: they are readying themselves!
But then something happens that I have not foreseen.
Behind me, there is a commotion; a box is knocked over, heavy footfalls thud on
the deck. And then, right past me, Jarl Magnus raises his shield as he runs,
mounts the gunwale and, literally, leaps into the air over the whirling waves.
Number 7: Know when to stop.
Relentless action scenes can be exhausting to read. Follow
any action scene with a chapter or so of calm – your readers need a break. Let
them have it! Once everyone is safe, my protagonist Kylan is going to spend the
next chapter learning to play chess!
Writing Task:
Now have a go at writing your own action scene set on a
Viking ship. It doesn’t have to be an attack – how about a storm, or a
whirlpool, or a shipwreck? Plenty more dangers to invent. I’d love to see what
you come up with!
The Chessmen Thief is a Viking adventure inspired by
the iconic Lewis Chessmen which you can see at the British Museum, The National
Museum of Scotland and The Museum nan Eilean on the Isle of Lewis. The famous
hoard of walrus-ivory-carved chess pieces was found in the Outer Hebrides in 1831,
but the figures were likely carved in Trondheim in Norway during the second
half of the 12th Century. If they came to Scotland soon after, they
are likely to have travelled by sea in a Viking/Norse ship. Some Viking ships
actually survive to this day and can be viewed in a museum in Oslo.