Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 22 - Doing What You Must to Win (Patreon)

“That is a dangerous game you played today,” Reinn informed Magnus as the group sat in the corner of the Berserkers’ Den, celebrating the three wins for the young boys.  “Do not be too cocky of your own skill.  One false move, one slip, anything can end your chance of earning a rune and catching the jarl’s attention.”

Bobbing his head, Magnus knew why his Lendmann was sharing the Wisdom, but there was not going to be an easier opportunity to earn money than right now.

“I’ll do what I can to be safe,” he replied, trying to ignore the frown Reinn didn’t try to hide.

“Why do I even bother?” the man asked as he moved from the table the three teens were sitting at, going to where all the adults except Arngrim were.

“I still can’t believe we all won!” exclaimed Osvif.  “Guat’s the only one with a bad matchup.”

The Lendmann’s son nodded, slowly turning his mug in his hand, lost in thoughts.

“You okay?”

“I am,” Guat replied, answering Magnus’s question. “Just trying to figure out what tomorrow will be like.  Knowing we made it through the first round is good.  Everyone who fell today is either headed home or stuck waiting till the end, all dreams of joining a war band crushed for a while.  Two more rounds.  We need to make it past day three.”

“And you’re worried about tomorrow’s matchup?” Magnus asked.

“Yes.  Going up against someone with two axes is not the matchup I hoped for.”

Osvif started to say something, but the bench he was sitting on moved as Arngrim appeared and scooted in next to him.

“Good news, boys! I have your odds for tomorrow!” exclaimed the tired-looking rune crafter.

He saw the looks on the three and looked upward, groaning loudly.

“Do I need to take each of you out back and beat some sense into you?” he asked.  “You’re all here, and you’ll get through tomorrow.  Odin has told me, so stop worrying and enjoy yourselves.”

Guat’s temperament changed immediately at the proclamation from the old man.  

“You’re not lying, are you?”

Shaking his head, Arngrim put a pouch on the table and pushed it toward the Lendmann’s son.

“The three of you are about to learn a valuable lesson tomorrow.  Today was nothing. The real fighting will take place on the third day.  Those who know that won’t hold back from making it there.  In that pouch is how you’ll win against the boy, Hegg, from the southwest.”

Picking up the pouch, Guat opened it up and peered inside.

“It’s just sand.”

Cackling like a goat, the older man shook his head while he played with a stick in his beard.

“No, you fool, it’s magical sand!  Tomorrow, you’ll toss that in the air at Hegg’s face.  When he breathes it and gets it in his eyes, you’ll have the chance you need.”

“Cheating?” Guat asked in shock.  “They won’t allow-”

A fist came down on the table, cutting off his words.

“They allow almost anything, and it will only get worse, trust me,” Angrim replied.  “More than you realize will use stuff like that tomorrow and in the coming days.  Soon, you will see boys with liquid in their mouths spitting at you, expecting it to do the same thing that sand will do.  Give them an opening.  Others will grab dirt from the very floor of the dueling fields, not bothering to use a bag.”

“And some will bring out the two-handed weapons,” Magnus added.  “Hrein already mentioned that.”

Chuckling, Arngrim nodded and stole the mug Guat had not been paying attention to and downed it in a single gulp.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“Another free lesson,” the rune maker replied. “People will take what is not protected. Be careful what you eat or drink while on the field.  Honor is important, but when a Viking fights, they understand that winning is everything.”

“He’s right,” a very familiar voice came from behind Guat and Magnus.

They turned around, and Guat finally noticed who was behind his friends, having been focused on his empty cup.

“Avitue!” Magnus exclaimed, standing up so quickly that the bench almost tipped over.

“Slow down!” Guat shouted as he grabbed onto the table to keep from falling backward.

Her helm was under her arm, and Avitue was in her full shieldmaiden attire.  A shield was on her back, and the leather armor she wore had a cat painted on it.  Her long red hair was in a braid, running behind her.

Magnus didn’t wait, though, holding out his arm, and when she clasped his, he pulled her in close, patting her shield.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispered before stepping back, having heard the loud steps of a massive man coming toward them.

“My shield!” Hrein shouted loudly, shoving Magnus out of the way and grabbing his daughter in his hands, lifting her off the ground before pulling her in for a hug.

“Please, Father, let go,” she managed to get out as he squeezed so hard the shield might be snapped in half.

Laughing, he let go and took a step back, staring at her and smiling.

“Praise be Freya, my daughter is one of hers! If only your mother could be here to see this!”

Avitue’s smile changed, and her eyebrows sagged slightly at the mention of her mother.

“Shieldmaiden Avitue!” Reinn called out. “Come join us at our table!”

She nodded and smiled at Magnus and the other two before moving to join the others from Kroppr, Hrein right on her heels.

“She looks good,” Guat said as Magnus sat down.  “For a moment, I thought she might have blushed when you said something, but her father chased that moment away.”

Osvif and Magnus laughed while Arngrim stole Guat’s mug, drinking it without delay.

“Forget women for now!” the older man said, pulling out a piece of paper he had tucked in his robes.  “Let me share the odds on all of you!”

***

Valgard sat there on the stairs next to Magnus, neither having spoken for a minute after the younger one explained his plan.

“You’re certain you want to do this?” Valgard asked.  “The reward seems great, but that means you cannot fail.”

“Do you believe in me?”

Magnus watched the man who he had honestly started to feel affection for wince at those words.  Valgard was filling a role he never had in his father. For three years, the man had supported him in every crazy thing he came up with.  Even when something sounded completely outrageous, the man never faltered.  The greatest change had been in the house, with laughter and conversation taking place at night around dinner.  Thora had even commented how much happier the man she had married out of necessity had become.  There was a love between the two of them now.

“I would have thought that my actions proved that I do.  Yet… if something were to happen and you didn’t make the top ten, all the money we have would be gone.”

“And if I do make the top ten like I plan, you and Mother would be able to live comfortably for a long time.  You could hire multiple thralls and build another place for them.  I’m certain—”

Valgard put a hand on Magnus’s knee and squeezed it. 

“You can stop.  I would have done it regardless, but please don’t sell me on the idea of Valhalla just yet.  Your mother will still want me to get my hands dirty occasionally.”

Chuckling, Magnus nodded and let out a sigh of relief.

“You can go downstairs and sit with her and enjoy a little bit of the celebration.  I don’t mind being up here. It gives me time to think.”

“I won’t argue with a few drinks,” Valgard said as he stood up.  Turning on the step, he reached over and rubbed the blond braids Thora had made.  “You might need a haircut soon.  Just the sides, though.  You’re too pretty, just like your mother.”

They both laughed as Valgard went down the steps, the older man’s laughter drowned out by the noise from below.

Thirty to one odds I make it to the final ten.  All I need now is for you to help me get there.

With his eyes looking up at the ceiling, the light of the single lantern on the floor cast shadows all around.  Pulling out his axe and a whetstone, Magnus slowly started to sharpen the blade.  Tomorrow, he would let the other contenders know who he was.

***

“Those axes are longer than usual,” Magnus informed Guat as they both studied the red-haired teen across the circle.  “Maybe four or six inches, but it’s a whole hand length.”

“I hope I don’t screw up this bag thing.  Do you have any idea how hard it is to hold this axe with just one hand?”

Nodding, Magnus understood the need to put a two-handed weapon in Guat’s arsenal today.  There would have been no real way to throw the sand Arngrim had given him if he had to worry about a shield and axe.  

“You’re good with this weapon anyway against someone with two weapons. How many times have you destroyed Osvif with one?”

“And how many times have I lost against you?” Guat asked.

Both of them grinned and knew the answer.  Neither of them needed to say he had never won.

“Go get him, and then we can watch Osvif win as well,” Magnus said as he poured the bag into his friend’s hand, using his body to block the view across the ring.

As Guat moved into position, the two-handed axe resting upon his left shoulder, his left hand did most of the work, keeping it in position while his right hand rested under it, applying pressure to keep it balanced.

“Fight!”

The red-haired teen rushed toward Guat, not wanting to give him a chance to get the two-handed axe into position to fight.  As Hegg moved across the dirt in a straight line, Guat finally tossed the sand as Arngrim had shown him, most of it colliding with the boy’s face.

Immediately, when it hit, Hegg closed his eyes yet took a deep breath. Coughing happened instantly as Guat rushed backward, getting his weapon into position.

The boy started to choke, blinking, and rubbed his eyes with the back of one hand, waving the free axe in the air.  

A couple of boos came from the stands while most of the others laughed and cheered.

Seeing that Hegg was struggling to see and unable to defend himself, Guat lunged forward, the massive axe coming across his body from left to right.

Hegg’s right axe managed to get partially up to try and block, but the stance he was in didn’t help against the power behind the strike.  The blade cut into the handle, and the boy’s arm gave way, taking a full swing to the side.

Blood flowed from where the edge had cut into his right arm, now hanging by his side.

“Yield!” Guat shouted as he brought his weapon up, ready to strike again.

Dropping his left axe, Hegg fell to his knees and held up his hand, coughing still from the sand.

Healers rushed to where the boy was, starting to work on his arm and vision.

Cheers came as Guat held the two-handed axe above his head and moved to where Magnus was waiting for him.

“That felt dirty,” Reinn’s son stated. “I don’t want to do that again.”

Nodding, Magnus motioned to where Reinn and the others were in the stands.  He watched as his friend searched for the Lendmann.

The tiniest smile appeared for a moment before Guat put on a serious face again.

“At least he doesn’t seem too disappointed.”

Taking the weapon from his friend, Magnus chuckled.

“Your father has only one thing on his mind, and that is you making it through tomorrow.  Right now, I doubt he would be upset if you bent over and shot a lightning bolt from your ass.”

Both began to laugh, moving to the stairs, ready to join their family and friends.