Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 31 - The Fight Everyone Wants (Patreon)

Teit and Reinn had changed up the way people could approach Magnus, creating a small barricade with two permanent guards at the edge of it.  The booth he always sat in had been a decision he made from a lifetime of never leaving his back exposed.  Now even his sides and fronts were guarded.

Everyone who came to congratulate him gave Magnus a token of their appreciation for winning again. Each understood that they would be limited in how close they could get after news traveled through the city about the failed attempt.

“Has Reinn told you how much money people have given you?” Osvif asked as a man dropped two silver coins into the small wooden cask.  The sounds of coins clinking came from inside, a quarter of it already full.

“He hasn’t, but it doesn’t matter.  As of right now, only two houses are accepting wagers, and it’s only on a fight between Skardi and me.  Arngrim wasn’t happy about that, but apparently, I ruined any chance after today.”

Guat chuckled and drained his cup, smiling and smacking his lips as he stared at the emptiness inside.

“All I can say is I’m not certain I’ll ever be able to go back to the normal swill we were given after drinking this mead.  Of course, my father told me how much it costs, so I’m certain it will happen soon.”

Scratching his head, Magnus nodded and then gave a bow of his head to another who deposited coins in the cask.  He was grateful Teit had the guards outside telling the mothers and their daughters that no more flowers needed to die, as young Einar was not focused on finding a mate at this moment.  

“Tomorrow might be the day, though. You can bet on that match.  Any thoughts on how it will go?”

Magnus sighed and drummed his fingers on the table.  The three of them sat on the same bench, a table between them and the cask and the barrier.  

“Only way I’ll know is when the fight ends and one of us is dead.  My problem is his axe.  I could play the long spear, but he is quick, and one mistake would let him get close.  If he connects one time, it will be all over.”

“Not going to play any of your tricks?” Guat asked quietly.  “You still have a few you showed back home.”

Frowning, Magnus had considered all of them already.  Everything was too risky against Skardi.  The boy was too fast.  Most of his tactics that involved trickery didn’t work on Reinn and Hrein because they simply accepted the damage, retaliating instead of trying to block. He couldn’t expect them to work on the teen who was bigger than both of them.

“I did think about going out there with just a shield and a dagger again, but I’m not foolish enough to believe I could win that fight.  In the end, I’ll play my strongest defense and do what I can from there.”

Both boys nodded, each feeling the pressure that Magnus seemed to be able to shrug off.

“Maybe you’ll get the pass,” Osvif said a minute later.

“I’m not sure Odin loves me that much,” Magnus joked.

***

There wasn’t a place to sit or stand in the seating area of the dueling fields.  Every square inch was covered, and people were standing at the gates, prepared to relay information as it happened to those outside.  

Three boys stood in a row, Magnus, Broddi, and Skardi.  None of them spoke, but you could feel the tension between the two teens at the end.

Bior had spoken with all three of them before he allowed them on the field.  Any problems would result in a disqualification before the match even started.

A bee might have made more noise than the crowd as Jarl Bior walked by the three, holding the metal jar and letting each of them put their token in it.  A metal-on-metal noise came from the jar each time one of their names was dropped in.

“Today, we are one step away from ending this journey!” Bior shouted, holding the jar high into the air.  “Let us see who Odin grants a chance to watch and rest, and let us see who shall spill blood today for all of us!”

The crowd roared, and the jarl let them celebrate for a moment before lowering it and hovering his hand over the mouth.  He turned the jar away from him and reached inside, moving the tokens and creating a clinking sound.

A token was retrieved, hidden in his massive hand, as he gave the jar to a servant.

Everyone held their breaths, ready to hear who would be granted a pardon.  More importantly, everyone waited to see if the grudge match they all desired was to take place.

Bior turned the token over and looked at it.  His eyes said nothing, and his face was like stone.  The jarl took a massive breath, preparing to bellow out what everyone wanted to know.  Thrusting the token into the air, he finally broke the silence.

“The warrior Einar has been granted a pass!”

A wave of relief flooded Magnus as he heard the cries of the people.  Some were excited for another fight to come, while those who weren’t certain they could get in tomorrow bemoaned the loss.

Outside the stone walls of the dueling fields, another cheer came as word traveled.

Bior started to reach into the jar when Broddi stepped forward and dropped to his knee.

The Jarl frowned, and the crowd went silent.

“I forfeit my match against Skardi, My Jarl.  Odin told me in a dream last night that if I did not get the pass, I should stand aside and allow these two to fight for the crown.”

The relief that Magnus had felt vanished in an instant, feeling his lower extremity pucker up at the knowledge that something like this had just taken place.  

A smirk was on Skardi’s lips, and the warrior’s eyes sparkled as the jarl studied the three of them.

Roars and cheers came as word spread that there would be no need to fight tomorrow.  If only two remained, then surely it had to take place right now.

Bior moved forward and leaned down, glaring at Broddi, who held the jarl’s gaze.

“You’re certain this is the path you want to take?”

Nodding, the boy raised his hand toward the sky.  

“I cannot argue with the All-Father, no matter what that might cause for you and the others.”

The man’s beard looked like waves on an ocean, rolling from the way his jaw muscles clenched and unclenched.  The noise from the crowd drowned out any chance Magnus might have had to hear the jarl’s teeth grinding against each other.

“Very well,” Bior said.

Standing up, the man moved back a few steps and held up his hands.

“I will need silence from you all while I ask these two warriors if they will fight. They are granted an extra day if they desire to prepare and pray, or if both wish it, we can end this event today.”

Bior glanced at Magnus and Skardi, aware of what each teen would say.  

“Einar, what is your desire?”

“I will fight to the death today.”

Magnus expected the crowd to erupt in celebration, yet no one said a word.

“Skardi, what is your desire?”

“I will kill this boy today!” 

The crowd couldn’t hold back anymore.  No one was silent, and a city celebrated that soon, a champion would be named.

“I warned you,” Bior growled, pointing a finger at Skardi, who realized his zeal might cost him everything based on how his face reacted to the Jarl’s voice.

“Forgive him, Jarl Bior,” Magnus called out over the noise.  “We need to end this.  It is the only way he will learn.”

The anger faded from the man’s eyes as he stared into Magnus’s blue eyes and saw the fire in them.

“Very well.  Thirty minutes.  The circle has already been drawn.  Let someone’s blood make it an offering to Odin.”

***

“Any last words of wisdom?” Magnus asked as he stood at the edge of the circle.  His shield and the small axe he carried were both painted red, a symbol of what was to come. Across his back was one more axe, ready to be called upon if needed.

“Don’t die, and don’t be stupid,” Arngrim replied.  “You can win this.  Fight your way and not his.  He pretends to be smart, but he’s reckless. His Strength is his weakness.”

Nodding, Magnus gave the older man a smile and stepped over the white line.  

When his first step touched the tan dirt inside the circle, part of the crowd celebrated, cheering their champion on.  

Skardi held up his massive axe and roared, stepping over the line on his side.

Neither cared about the noise around them. All they cared about was the person they walked toward, each knowing someone was going to lose their life and grow weaker.

“Did you bring a toy children play with?” Skardi asked, scoffing at the size of the axe Magnus had in his hand.  “Surely you don’t expect to reach me with that!”

Smiling, Magnus shrugged, not replying. Instead, he began waving his shield and axe in the air, making sure he was loose and ready for the fight.

Bior stood between both, and the man’s face carried the same expressionless look as earlier.

“You both understand that one of you will die.  If you attempt to leave the white circle, someone from the other group may attack you.  We will not stop the fight until we are certain the spark of life is gone from your body. Do you understand?”

Each of them nodded and moved back as Bior pointed for them to move the marks on the dirt.

The circle had been widened.  It was now about fifty feet across instead of the usual thirty.  

When the jarl was outside the circle, he drew his axe and held it high above his head.

A silence fell once more, and when the axe fell and the horn sounded, a cacophony of noise erupted in the stands.

Skardi charged, axe held high, and roared, as he always did.

Magnus turned, running toward the edge of the circle, keeping an eye on the giant.

The massive teen gave pursuit, like a dog chasing a rabbit.

“Don’t run, ragr! Hel is calling for you!”

Magnus ignored the taunt and the crowd, getting a feel for how fast Skardi really was.

Those long legs covered ground, but when he needed to turn, he slowed down, unable to maneuver with the massive axe like Magnus could.

Around and around, Magnus led the giant, sweat on both teens as they continued the chase, the smaller one staying just out of reach of the larger one with the massive axe.

Another roar came from Skardi as he grew impatient, running harder as they circled around again.

Magnus saw Arngrim’s hand, and he planted his feet, turning and facing the boy who had lowered his axe slightly. 

Realizing his prey wasn’t running, Skardi grabbed onto his wooden shaft with both hands and began to pull the axe upward.  

Magnus charged forward, and as the Dane axe reached its pinnacle, he threw the smaller axe at the giant.

Skardi saw the smaller axe twirling through the air, realizing now why the axe wasn’t as long and that he was too close to dodge it. He didn’t care it was going to hit. His prey was right there before him.

Swinging downward and across, Skardi put every ounce of power he had into the swing. The sound of metal on metal rang out over the dueling floors, and sparks flew up as metal bars bent and popped on the shield.

Magnus stumbled from the impact, the blow striking far harder than he had expected. Even with his right hand supporting the shield and his legs bent, he was driven to his knees.

Skardi stumbled himself. The axe blade had hit his left arm, slicing the meat to the bone above the elbow.

His grip failed with his left arm, and his right hand struggled to control the impact of the axe against Magnus’s shield.

Rising from his knees, Magnus reached for his axe on his back and felt pain as he lowered the shield.

Even with the metal supports, the wood had broken through, burying wooden shards into his forearm.  The slightest shift in the shield made his whole arm radiate in agony as the wood moved through his flesh.

Both teens tried to recover, Magnus struggling with his shield hanging by his side while Skardi’s left arm poured blood out from the massive gash.

The giant grabbed his axe with just his right hand, shifting his grip, and raised it into the air, swinging it at Magnus.

Rolling to the side almost made Magnus puke when he dodged the attack, the massive blade burying itself in the sand.

While Skardi worked at pulling the weapon free from the grip of the soil, Magnus used his axe to cut the leather strap, freeing the shield.  A squelching sound filled his ears as the wood pulled free, and the shield tumbled to the ground.

Blood flowed upon the ground, creating a work of art around both boys, signifying life leaving bodies.

The cacophony of noise continued as the crowd cheered on each of the young men, seeing their agony and pain, knowing one of them would die.

With his arm free and in no better condition than Skardi’s, Magnus charged, swinging his axe at Unnulf’s son, who had just pried the axe free.

Twisting his body, Skardi brought the axe to bear, getting its curved blade in Magnus’s path, requiring him to halt his attack.

Each of them was now being cautious, both knowing that one wrong move would open them up to the other and an attack that could end everything.

“You’re bleeding pretty badly,” Magnus said, motioning to the river of blood flowing from the massive arm.  “You might want to try something before the Valkyries take you away.”

Scowling, Skardi glared.

“Stop being a coward and fight me like a Viking!” 

Laughing, Magnus slowly backed away, trying to reposition his opponent.

“Going to run away again?!”

“No, just getting closer to your father so he can see you die like a coward!” Magnus shouted over the crowd.

His taunt struck a nerve, and Skardi began to approach, taking steps in the direction Magnus was leading him.

Pretending to trip, Magnus watched as his foe darted forward, the axe length now halved so that Skardi could balance it in one hand and swing it with the speed he needed.

Dodging backward, Magnus feinted an attack, watching as the giant moved to the left, trying to get the two-handed axe back into position.  With that trick done, Magnus raced toward his real objective this whole time, sprinting past the confused Viking.

It hurt when he transferred the axe from his right hand to his left, but scooping down, Magnus grabbed the throwing axe that was on the ground, the blood on it matching the color of the paint.

Massive steps sounded from behind, seeming louder than the crowd. When Magnus whirled around toward them, holding an axe up, he saw his opponent slowing down. Skardi saw he was too late to overtake the man who had taunted him all week.

It took every ounce of Strength Magnus had to maintain a grip on the axe in his left hand.  The weight of the axe was almost too much, even when Magnus shortened where he gripped the wood to help offset the balance.  

Driving his feet into the ground, Magnus charged at Skardi, rearing back his right arm to throw the axe.

The tall teen raised his weapon, trying to prepare to block the incoming throw.

As the right hand came forward and the smaller axe hurtled toward the giant, Magnus’s left arm flicked forward, pain lancing up his entire arm as he sent the other one flying.

Skardi tried to react, one blade getting deflected that came for his face by the axe head.  His eyes saw the larger one coming, and he raised the axe flat, hoping to block or slow down the weapon.

It was too late when Skardi saw that Magnus never stopped running toward him.

With his left arm unable to assist and his right arm and weapon out of the way, Magnus drove his right hand into Skardi’s nut sack, not caring about honor or anything else.  

A squeal like a pig came from the teen's mouth a second before the wooden shaft bounced off his upper body harmlessly, the blade having missed him.

As the giant’s right arm came down toward his tenderized jewels, Magnus kicked the teen on the inside of the knee.

The crack that came, followed by the scream, was only matched by the grunt Magnus made when the axe head slammed into his right shoulder, sliding across part of his chest.

Skardi had managed to hold on to the weapon and connected the weak swing, but the weight of the axe head and the sharpness of the blade did their job, cutting into Magnus’s flesh.

Crashing to the ground, the giant struggled to breathe; the pain of his balls radiated through his body while the crippled leg made it so he couldn’t stand.

His massive axe fell to the dirt, and Magnus was wavering on his feet.  His pec muscle was sliced open, and his right arm failed to obey his command to move.

The crowd was cheering, and yet silence seemed to fill his ears.  Adrenaline was trying to help, but he needed to focus.  Breathing was hard, and it felt like a rib had punctured his lung.

Near him was the smaller axe he started with.

Skardi was struggling to focus as well.  He shook and rolled on the ground, unable to hold both his knee and the crotch that begged for attention.

Staggering to where the smaller axe lay, Magnus picked it up with his left hand, grunting through the pain.

Blood cascaded down his chest as he hobbled toward Skardi.

Sensing Magnus coming, the teen rolled to his working knee and raised a hand to stop him, but Magnus swung, hiding the pain in his arm behind a wall in his mind.

Three fingers went flying, and blood spurted out.

The boy cried out, “I yield!”

Magnus ignored it, hacking at his hand again, cutting off more flesh.

When Skardi was smart enough to pull back the arm, his eyes saw the fire burning inside the blue gaze locked on him.

With no way to hold a blade or defend himself, the giant fell to the ground and rolled his neck to the side.

“Make it quick,” he gasped, closing his eyes.

Roaring, Magnus fought through every bit of pain that came from his lungs, shoulder, chest, and arm.

He drove the axe down.  Blood squirted from the impact as he sliced into the exposed flesh.  The blade was still sharp enough for this task, even after having impacted the massive axe head.

A shudder came from the fallen giant once as the axe cut part way through the spine.

Still roaring, he chopped again and again, only stopping when a blast of air knocked him over, and the axe flew from his hand.

As he lay on the ground panting, Magnus swore he saw the golden-haired woman high above, smiling at him from the back of her winged-white horse.

Then he closed his eyes.