Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 11 - The Cost of Death (Patreon)
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Magnus found himself a sweaty mess from all the games he had been playing, trying to downplay the attention everyone had been giving him.
Guat had seen him once and glared, but Magnus had said nothing, a simple nod of acknowledgment, and went on. He had ideas on how to possibly try and win the boy over to his side, but if he proved impossible, learning how to make Guat submit within the Viking culture was the next step.
An area in the open space that filled the city was set up with young and old men and women playing a game called Hnefatafl. It was like chess but different, with a strategy of trying to capture the hnefi, which Magnus had learned was the king. He wanted to spend more time watching and learning, but Osvif kept pulling him around like a trophy to show off.
Sooner or later, I’m going to have to have a talk with him.
The idea of a friend and one who was committed was great, but if all they wanted was to ride his coattails, he wasn’t for it.
Valgard had seen him and called him over for a moment, introducing a few older men in town who gave the congratulations and shared their disbelief at the story going around.
Everything was all celebration until a horn sounded.
It blew for about ten seconds and then stopped. Then, a shorter blast came from a different one, and everyone started moving to a giant stone in the middle of town.
As Magnus got closer, doing his best to see over the others gathered, a hand pressed against his back and pushed him forward toward the center.
“Stop hiding and get up there,” Brennor said from behind. “I don’t like having to have to find you.”
People scattered out of the way, smiling as the pair moved ahead.
Near the stone was Reinn, Valgard, Thorketil, and Hragnelf. Multiple bodies were lying wrapped in cloth, and one stood out with red hair showing from around the head.
Hrein’s corpse…
Knowing he was about to finally see how the whole coming back to life happened, Magnus moved to where Valgard was motioning to and stood by him.
Brennor gave a grunt and nodded at Reinn, who turned to the people as he raised his hands.
“Vikings! We come to see our brothers who have died returned to us. Odin has gifted us with a life and power that comes from our runes. Those of you who have been gifted, show the mark!”
All around the center of the town, men and women lifted sleeves, raised shirts, or pant legs. Most only had a single tattoo, and a few had two. Valgard had two he saw, one on the man’s right shoulder and one on his left quad. Each tattoo on everyone was different. Some looked like runes, while others depicted animals, weapons, or something else entirely.
Reinn had a tattoo on his chest, both arms and his back. Brennor had one on his chest and on each arm as well.
Hragnelf, the healer, dropped the robe he wore. Only a pair of white cloths covered his waist, but the man had a tattoo on each leg and arm as well as one on his back and chest.
As everyone gazed at one another, Reinn nodded at a man with a horn who blew a blast on it, everyone returning their clothes as they had been.
“We know the cost of dying. As such, each man who died fighting shall be compensated for the strength they have forever lost.”
The Lendmann turned to Hragnelf, who had finished putting his robe on, and grunted.
The older man stroked his white beard, and those blue eyes of his scanned the crowd.
“Who will provide cover for those who have fallen?”
People began to move forward, carrying a white cloth or robe. One of the ones coming forward was Avitue. Her eyes locked on Magnus for a moment before her gaze, like everyone else’s, fell on their healer.
“Move to your family or friend. The moment has come when their souls will be rejoined.”
Each person moved, and Magnus saw that while there were six wrapped corpses, two smaller ones he guessed were the men who had gotten crushed, two other people stood by with robes.
The sun was bright, and light began to fill the area as Hragnelf turned and put his hand on the stone in the center of town.
Magnus’s eyes saw the runes on the bottom of the stone and could read them.
‘All-Father.’
This must be a carving to represent Odin… but it looks nothing like the man.
A shimmer of blue and then yellow came from Hragnelf’s hands as he pressed against the stone. Lines appeared on it that hadn’t been there, covering the piece with a weird set of runes that overlapped. A high-pitched hum started to exude out of the stone, and a low hum rose from everyone in the crowd.
Doing his best to imitate those around him, Magnus copied Valgard's actions, humming loudly.
The noise got louder, rising to a crescendo. When it did, a wave of blue and yellow went out in a circle from the stone, traveling through the open area and all the way to the edges of the people. Magnus wasn’t sure how far it would travel before it stopped, but that wasn’t what his mind was focused on.
The corpses wrapped in linens on the ground started to move. Those two that had been smashed into a paste made cracking noises as bones rejoined and pushed together. Two shapes started to appear from the dirt, bones, and flesh knitting together as they formed from nothing.
It was impossible to watch it all at the same time, but Magnus tried. Some corpses like Hrein’s moved first, tearing off the bandages from his eyes, sitting up and shouting loudly. It was a horrible, piercing yell, one of pain and suffering.
When the red-headed man’s eyes fell on the crowd before him, he started to weep. His daughter came up and put the white cloth she had around him, and he looked up, saw her, and smiled.
Whatever they said to each other was lost in the humming that the gathered assembly continued to make.
Others moved and rose, the same yell of angst and pain coming as they tore the cloth from their eyes and saw where they were. Some cried longer, while others barely cried at all.
The worst was the pair that had formed in the dirt. It was a man and woman, the husband and wife, who had lost their home and two children who were not coming back.
Magnus could see tears on some of the people’s faces as they felt the pain of a lost child. Thora had some on her face, his mother's eyes locked on him. Knowing that each family usually only ever has one or two children only made things harder on him.
Even having been lucky to have three children, those two are gone for eternity.
When all the people who had died could be brought back to life, the humming of the crowd stopped.
A sound behind him made Magnus turn, and if Valgard hadn’t shaken his head, he would have been helping Hragnelf up. The man had fallen over, looking exhausted from the effort of what he had done. Two people in white robes wearing black and white face paint came and led him away.
“We honor those who have died. For those who have lost, we cannot comfort them any more than by offering a gift. Bestow upon them the gift.”
A stout blond-haired woman came from the crowd and started giving what looked like a coin purse to each man who had died. When she didn’t go to the husband and wife, pain lanced through Magnus’s core.
They’re only worth anything if they die in battle… yet losing a child means nothing in the way of getting help during a difficult moment like this?
Once Bolla had returned to the crowd, another horn blast came, and those who had been returned to their bodies moved to join the throng.
Every eye now felt like it was upon Magnus.
“Vikings! Yesterday, a troll invaded our land, and I took two warriors and my son and rallied the call for men on the southeast side of our town. Many came and offered. Some, as you saw, died, but those who stand beside me fought shoulder to shoulder against the creature!”
A cheer came from the crowd that went on for a moment.
Another horn blew, and the sound of a cart announced its presence before Magnus saw it. Slowly, a pair of horses that didn’t look happy pulled a large cart. In the back of it were pieces of the troll. It had been hacked apart and loaded and now was on display for all to see.
Murmurs of shock and amazement came as people saw the size of the creature and how full the cart was. Others stomped the ground or pounded their chest.
When it came to a stop near Reinn, the man moved to the side and reached for a massive head that had been removed completely at some point.
“Every Viking knows the danger of a troll. This one was strong enough and determined, pushing itself through the barrier and enduring that pain. It killed, and it died.”
The crowd was silent as Rein held the head up in the air.
Magnus watched as Reinn turned and locked eyes on him for a moment. There was a hint of something inside that gaze that told him things wouldn’t be as great as Valgard had hoped.
Moving to where Brennor stood, Reinn offered the head to the man, and the large warrior took it.
Staring straight ahead but glancing from the corner of his eyes, Magnus saw a slight frown on Valgard’s face.
“Behold the champion of the fight! Brennor Hrosskellsson!”
Applause and cheers came as the warrior held the head up for everyone to see. He turned, showing it off, and refused to look at Magnus.
When the noise settled down, Reinn went back to the cart and pulled out both hands. He handed one to Valgard and one to Thorketil.
Each man lifted the trophy, and their applause was almost as loud as the one Brennor had gotten. Magnus could see Osvif whistling and making a fool of himself.
Holding up both of his hands, Reinn waited for the noise to end. He moved to where Magnus was and motioned for him to come forward.
As Magnus came to him, the Lendmann leaned over and spoke quietly in his ear.
“One day you will understand… for now, this is all the honor I can give.”
Turning to face the crowd, Reinn put a hand on the teen’s shoulder beside him and flashed a smile at all those gathered.
“This young boy, along with my son Guat and Thorketil’s son, joined us yesterday. All three played a role in our victory. Today, I give honor to this one because he managed to make the troll bleed. Such a thing is not easy for any warrior, especially one who has not even received a rune. As such, I will grant him a gift and pray that Odin helps him to become a thegn that protects us all!”
The crowd cheered and clapped, some louder than others, but it was muted compared to what many had come to expect or believed would be said.
When a few seconds passed, Reinn motioned, and the horn blew once more.
Silence came as it ended, and their Lendmann didn’t miss a beat. “Now, come to the Longhouse and collect your pay. Tonight, we will celebrate with a meal worthy of such an event!”
Everyone cheered, and the crowd started to disperse.
Without waiting, Reinn moved off, leaving Magnus there.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and a voice as gruff as the beard that was pressed against his neck spoke over the din.
“I owe you. Find me later, and I’ll pay to get out of that debt.”
Magnus nodded, not needing to turn around to know Brennor had just spoken. People rushed by to congratulate the man who showed off a trophy he knew wasn’t his.
The worst part was the man wrapped in a white cloth around his waist whose green eyes bore into Magnus’s skull.
Always the girl with the crazy dad…