Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 27 - The Ultimate Challenge (Patreon)

“What? Who would—” Magnus stopped his line of questioning and immediately looked at where Jarl Unnulf and his son Skardi were standing.  “You can’t be serious?”

Nodding, Arngrim motioned to where Hrein was standing nearby.  

“Jarl Bior sent word just a little bit ago to Reinn.  Word has spread through the city that anyone who attempted such a thing would find that the penalty would result in deaths over and over until they were so weak, a hoe might be impossible to lift.”

“I’m assuming no one has asked the jarl anything?”

Shaking his head, Arngrim motioned for Hrein to come toward them.

“Rumor has it might not be them but instead someone trying to make them lose reputation.  The game that is being played right now is dangerous and has vast implications. If the Jarl took this before King Erik, nothing good would come of it.  This is why some wonder if it is a Lendmann making a move.  The problem is you’re one of the pieces on the board, and the game of Hnefatafl that is currently in motion isn’t one you’re prepared to play.”

“Let’s go,” Hrein said once he heard Arngrim finish talking.  “Reinn has a spot for you and Guat until it is time for your matches.  I shouldn’t need to tell you to stick closer to me than flies on stink.”

Shaking his head, Magnus moved beside the man and motioned to Guat to come as he looked on with a confused expression.

“Should I ask?”

“You can,” Magnus replied as they walked behind the large man.  “Just wait, though.”

***

When it was time for the matches to start, Magnus was surprised to find that Jarl Bior ordered for little shade areas to be built on the inner area of the dueling floor.  Nineteen of them were scattered evenly around the field.

“Perks of making it this far,” Guat said as he walked next to him. “You’ll notice some of the other boys have families with them as well.  It’s the best seat in the house.”

Bobbing his head, Magnus scanned the crowd, finding Thora and Valgard, along with Osvif and his father.  The rest of the group was down in the dueling area, already under the tent and reclining on chairs in the shade.

“Good luck, you two,” Bolla said, giving the brightest smile Magnus had ever seen on her face. “Bring honor to our village.”

“I will, Mother,” Guat replied as he moved close and gave her a kiss on the forehead.  

“Any problems?” Reinn asked.

Hrein shook his head, and the Lendmann’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

“You two rest on the bench,” Reinn said.  “You’ve got six matches before either of you are up.”

Neither teen spoke but nodded and moved to where they had been directed, grateful for a bench and, more importantly, the shade. 

All they could do now was wait and study someone they might end up fighting against tomorrow.

***

“Finish him!”

Reinn’s face was red as the Lendmann shouted from the edge of the carpeted area.  Guards stood at the edge of each tent, making sure that none of the families attempted to leave their designated area.  

Magnus watched as Guat struggled to finish off Ufi.  

The fight had gone better than he had originally believed it would.  Guat had held his own, using the two axes to block and control those spear thrusts.  He managed an early scratch on one of Ufi’s arms when the boy overextended, using his axes to block and direct the spear thrust.  It gave him a clean shot at his opponent, yet as Guat closed the distance between them, the black-haired boy spun and adjusted his grip, using the momentum to push away the incoming attacker with the back end of the spear.

He only suffered a minor cut, and while it affected his thrusting ability, it also made him more cautious and prevented him from making the same mistake again.

Guat had two minor wounds as well, but it was the one to his right leg that was impacting him the most.  His side had been sliced open, yet both boys were about equal in the blood loss.

Each was covered in sweat from the minutes they had been maneuvering and trying to land a hit.  Both boys realized that soon, the fight would come down to who either caused another injury or which one of them bled out first.  

Ufi appeared to be getting tired as his thrusts continued to weaken, the injury to his left arm taking its toll.

An overextended thrust came, and Guat pounced on the teen like a hungry predator.  As he blocked the spear shaft with his right axe and forced it to the side, the Lendmann’s son charged forward, arm raised back and ready to deliver a blow.

Magnus tried to cry out, but it was too late.  He saw that Ufi had laid a trap, but neither of them had noticed it.

The boy let go of the spear with both hands, grabbing the two daggers on his hip and pulling them out faster than Magnus could have believed possible.  For such a move to be done with that kind of speed and finesse, the teen must have practiced it countless times.

In Ufi’s left hand, the blade came up, catching the axe and deflecting the incoming attack aimed at his head.  

Guat’s weapon scraped across the dagger, slicing off three of the fingers that held it, sheering them off completely.

Yet amid all that, Ufi managed to bring the other dagger up, putting every bit of Strength he had as the blade sliced across Guat’s armor, right for his neck.

The judge called the match as Magnus’s friend grabbed his throat, the blade having filleted open the soft flesh of his neck.

Blood squirted out between Guat’s fingers.

Hragnelf and another healer raced for the Lendmann’s son, knowing the injury and the limited time they had.

Reinn was charging onto the field, breaking free from both guards who had attempted to stop the father trying to get to his son.

Guat’s eyes were wide as he turned, facing his father, who had called out his name.

Odin, don’t let him die!

***

“He’ll be fine, Einar.  You need to focus on this next fight.”

If it wasn’t for all the years of training and the ability to block things out, Magnus wasn’t sure how teens at this age would handle seeing something like that happen, especially to their friends.

“This isn’t a game,” Magnus whispered.

“Of course it isn’t!” exclaimed Arngrim.  “Don’t tell me you thought it was!”

Nodding slowly, Magnus finally admitted to himself that he had partially believed that.  

Osvif’s near-death almost broke him out of that thought, but after seeing what Guat had just gone through, there was no doubt in his mind that this wasn’t a game.

“You need to see that death is real.  How many boys have died this week so far?”

“Five.”

“Correct,” Arngrim replied.  “Dozens of other boys have come close, but our healers are right there on the edges.  I don’t believe Ufi meant to kill him.  It was a win-or-go-home moment, and he did what needed to be done.  Now it is your turn.”

I’m suffering from PTSD! Focus! You know death is real.  Don’t let this shake you!

Magnus was staring across the field at Orest, watching the boy smirking at him.  The dark-haired boy could see he was rattled and expected that would make this fight easier.

“I’m going with just the spear.”

“You’re certain?  You know he’ll go two axes.”

Mangus nodded and held out his hand.  

“Don’t worry, Arngrim.  That boy is going to learn who the hunter is.”

***

“I’ll give you a chance to surrender,” Magnus shouted as they waited for the judge to start the fight.  Currently, the announcer was doing his best to get the crowd going as always.

“Please, we both know you’re going to fall like your friend!” Orest shouted back.

“I swear by Odin, if you don’t, I’ll kill you.”

The dark-haired boy’s eyes went wide, and even the judge turned to see if he had heard Magnus correctly.

Gone were the normal eyes that simply told people Magnus was watching.  Instead, there was a glint to them of malice.  The glare he gave made Orest glance at the judge and then back at the one who had thrown down the challenge.

“Are you challenging me to the death?” Orest called out.

“I am.”

The judge immediately threw his hands into the air and motioned for the Jarl to come.

Everywhere around the dueling field were whispers and conversations as people knew what had just been done.  It didn’t happen often, but for two boys to agree on this meant the Jarl had to come over and be near the circle during the fight.

Both teens watched as the jarl left his larger tent and shade.  He walked as a man who was not excited about what might take place.  For boys to do this on the fifth day was rare.  Typically, it was reserved for the last two days when someone wanted to make a statement.  

Every step the blond hair, blue-eyed man took reminded Magnus of the power he felt when watching the troll they had fought years ago move.

Magnus could see that even though the man had an air of politics and civility, there was death waiting at any moment.  His body glided across the dirt floor until he stood between both boys and motioned them to approach.

His piercing blue eyes studied them both, and he frowned, pulling on the massive single braid of hair from his chin.

“Do you two really wish this fight to go to the death? Surely, you both know that it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“He called for it,” Orest said first, pointing an axe at Magnus.  “I accepted.”

Frowning even more, the jarl studied Magnus and saw the look on his face.

“You’re certain you want this? No one needs to die to know you are gifted in battle.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but you’re wrong,” Magnus replied.  “I need to kill someone now, so when I face Skardi and tell him he will suffer the same fate, I can watch fear creep into his heart.”

Orest coughed and took a step back. 

Slowly, Bior brought both of his hands to the ridge of his nose and rubbed it.  

When he had done that for a moment and lowered them, gone was the frustration and angst of what stood before him.

“Very well, Einar.  I have rarely heard a reason for calling for a fight to the death that has merit like that.  Orest, do you still accept?”

The dark-haired teen saw the look now coming from his Jarl and realized that he was only one of the three people standing there who believed he could win, and even his own confidence was quickly fading.

“I… I…”

“If you forfeit, I will do my best to lessen the impact such a thing will have on your standing,” Bior replied, his sole attention now on the boy who was trying to not take another step back.  “Know that if you die, it will hurt your chances even more because of the impact it will have on your potential Strength.  Dying this early can weaken your overall power.  Do not throw your potential away unless you are absolutely certain you can win.”

Bior pointed at Magnus’s face without turning to see the teen behind him with the spear.

“Look at his face, Orest.  There is no doubt he will win.  I do not mean to belittle you, but yours tells me a different story.  Decide now.  Fight to the death or forfeit, but you have only a moment to decide. If you do not have an answer by the time I reach the edge of the circle, this fight will start and not end until one of you is dead.”

Orest started to sputter as the Jarl turned and slowly moved toward the white line.  He glanced at Magnus, whose face hadn’t changed, his blue eyes locked on the black ones he had.

Two steps before Bior reached the line, Orest dropped both axes and raised his hands.

“I yield!”

The crowd was silent as the jarl turned and nodded.  He moved back toward the pair and, when he got there, put a hand on Orest’s shoulders, trying to steady the teen, who was trembling at what he had done.

“I believe Loki granted you wisdom in making the right choice.  Return to your father.  I will speak with the Lendmann later and discuss how you should not be punished or mistreated.  At the end of all this, you shall come to my home, and we will talk.”

Life returned to Orest’s face as he heard the words of his jarl, and he gave a deep bow.  

“I am grateful for your kindness.”

With that, the boy looked at Magnus once more before shaking his head in disbelief and turning, leaving his axes on the ground as he walked to a stunned group of people in a tent.

Jarl Bior faced Magnus and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“You are dangerous, Einar Sibbison.  I have seen the eyes of many men, and today, I have no doubts you would have toyed with him and then killed him.  Trying to teach someone else a lesson to come through another.  Do not give in to that too much, or you might find yourself no better than them.”

With those words spoken, Jarl Bior grabbed Magnus’s free hand and lifted it into the air.

The crowd went crazy, cheering the name of Einar, a boy who made another surrender without swinging a weapon.