Battle Through the Nine Realms - Chapter 35 - Joining a Warband (Patreon)

Two gold coins found their way into the hands of Vikings, who were smart enough to pace themselves this time on their next visit.

“Rumor had it you were going around shaking things up, but I had no idea what exactly,” Hersir Torrad stated as he watched Magnus give two of his men a coin.  “I take it since we are the last of the four, you are done with this challenge?”

Taking a few deep breaths, Magnus shook his head.  

“I still have the jarl tomorrow to stop by, which is why I asked you to not share what we have done.”

Chuckling, the shorter of the four Hersirs nodded.  His green eyes almost sparkled like emeralds at the thought of Magnus tricking Bior.

“Would you tell me if any of the warbands have managed to secure either of you three?”

“I’ll tell you what I told the last one. No one has gotten a promise from one of us yet, but we are always open to hearing an offer.”

Torrad closed his eyes and flicked his tongue against his teeth for a few seconds.  Magnus could see his eyeballs moving around behind the eyelids.

When he opened his eyes, the Hersir smiled and displayed most of his teeth.

“What if I offer a five-silver-a-day rate if it's Guat or Osvif? I’m certain the going rate for you personally will be much higher, and I cannot pay the amount, especially when I know the next two years will be spent training.” Groaning, Torrad pointed at the men lying on the ground. “As much as I and the others would want to get you into the field and be used, it would be foolish until we knew for certain you were ready.”

Osvif and Guat both did their best to hide their excitement at hearing a number like that listed.

“Of course, for that rate, I would expect certain other guarantees on performance and require them to take part in daily training to make up for their inexperience with weapons.”

Nodding, Magnus had recovered and motioned to his two friends.  

“Either one would be open to discussing that with you.  If you want, you can meet with them next week at our ale house.  The day after bath day, we will be resting there.”

Extending his arm, the Hersir shook all of theirs and chuckled once more.

“I knew when I saw your eyes the first time that most had you pegged wrong.  I made a few coins off your early success.”

Grinning, Magnus chuckled and heard Osvif mutter, so did we quietly.

“If you are okay with it, we need to retire for the day.”

Nodding, Torrad turned and congratulated the two warriors who earned a gold coin, proudly proclaiming to the rest the importance of using their brains.

***

“Teit, I’m certain my father mentioned to you how great your food and drink are, but do I want to know how much it would cost to stay here for the rest of my life?”

The one-armed man rolled his eyes at Guat as he shook his head.

“You’re not allowed to stay here past the date your father paid for.  He told me if you weren’t gone, I needed to throw your sorry brown-haired arse outa my place and onto the street.”

Magnus and Osvif started laughing as Guat sat up straight and stared at the man in disbelief.

“Surely he didn’t—”

“Listen, boy, I don’t lie, and your father and I have known each other a long time.  He might talk shit about me, and I’ll surely talk shit about him but know if the month ends and you’re still here, those guards who protected ya will just as easily toss ya out.  Understand?”

From the frown and glare Teit was giving him, Guat nodded, sighing as he leaned back in a chair.

“I guess my father really does love me,” he muttered.

“I’m just glad he paid for the three of us,” Osvif said. “Of course my father mentioned how much they all earned off Einar, so it really wasn’t that much of a dent.”

Nodding as he spun his cup on the table, Magnus already knew Thora and Valgard were going to buy two thralls and build them a room to live in.  The idea of slaves wasn’t the greatest thing in his head, but in this world, he had one mission to deal with, and that wasn’t part of it right now.

“So what are you thinking, Einar?” Osvif asked.  “Which warbands should we join?”

“I think Torrad is a good choice for either of you.  He’s smart… much smarter than the other three, and that should say something.”

Both boys nodded as all three knew the Hersirs weren’t just powerful warriors but had brains in their heads as well.

“Hallfred and Mord weren’t bad, but both seemed content even when none of their men defeated me.  I think they're a little bit stuck in the older way of fighting and a little bit of physical work.  While it helps, there is so much more than occasionally moving a log or pushing a cart.  You two have seen my system, so you’re well aware of it.”

“Oh, we’re both well aware of how much it sucks,” Guat replied.

“That means depending on what Bior offers will determine where I end up.”

“So in two years, when we’re all eighteen and done with the training years, then what?” Osvif asked.  “We’re really going to potentially change warbands?”

“They do allow it sometimes, but probably not. The goal is for one of us to lead a pack, and as the leader, we form our own men. At that point, we can recruit outside our hall.”

Guat took a long drink from his cup and then chuckled.

“So what Einar is saying is that in four years, you and I should expect an invite from him.”

The three of them laughed as they drank their mead, enjoying a few more days together before life changed drastically.

***

“Forgive me that I couldn’t see all three of you,” Bior said as they walked along the courtyard where his own housecarls trained.  “I have heard about you making waves with the Hersirs, and rumor has it that you typically challenge all his men and beat them in some kind of workout.  Do you plan on doing that with my men today?”

Magnus shook his head, his eyes having studied the men who fought under the banner of the jarl.  These men were different, stronger, faster, harder, and tougher than most of the men in the other halls.  

“I think I would lose a lot of gold coins to these men,” Magnus replied.  “Yours are a different breed. There are still some things I could offer for advice on maximizing their Strength and Endurance, but I doubt they would want to listen to me.”

A single corner of the jarl’s beard raised as the man smiled slightly underneath it.

“You might be surprised.  Many of them were impressed by your actions.  Most served as a guard during that time, working as a normal one but there in case it was needed.  Especially after the attempt on your life.”

Magnus could see the frown by the way Bior’s beard shifted.

“I won’t ask if they spoke, but I can’t imagine how that went.”

“No, it is better not to speak of such things.  You will become immune to the blood and carnage in time, but I would prefer to wait another day.  So tell me, Einar Sibbison, what would make you want to join my warband?  We raid the realms far less than the others and mostly deal with the threats at home.”

“Beyond what I see you offer your men?” Magnus replied. “Surely you must know that the day will come when I seek to form my own pack and then a warband, and I’m not sure if it would bother you that I intend to heavily raid the other realms.  Someday, I hope to stand before Odin and be told I helped prevent Ragnarök through my actions.”

Bior stopped, his hands clasped behind his back, and turned to look at Magnus.

They stood there, not paying attention to the sounds of fighting or the shouts of instructions from the men nearby. Each attempted to read the thoughts of the other through their eyes, peering into the soul of the man just a few feet away.

“Do you know how long it has been since I have heard those words spoken?” Bior asked after a period of silence.  He signed and turned, slowly walking again along his training area.  “The king… he has not supported such a thing in so long.  Not since his son… terrible thing that it was.

“You weren’t around, and you have no idea how it has impacted relationships and our power.  Now, so much of our rune materials go to supporting barriers to keep our enemies out instead of outfitting our warriors for battle.  My men right there,” the jarl said as he pointed to a group of ten doing drills of five on five, “they could easily cross over into Jotunheim and defeat a giant.  I might lose a man or two, but they are some of the best.  The things they could bring back would allow us once again to make runes that would propel men like you to greatness.”

Sighing, Bior didn’t notice he was fidgeting with his fingers behind his back, but Magnus saw it.

“I would offer you a chance at greatness.  Did you open your gift from me?”

Nodding, Magnus smiled.

“It seems hard to say it’s too much, but Reinn told me that every champion gets that offer.  An advanced rune for my stomach would be appreciated.”

The tiniest chuckle came and then was swallowed by Bior as he discarded the smile that had appeared for just a moment.

“My hope is that whoever wins those runes will become the warrior we need.  You, Einar, are the first warrior I have seen in over a decade that is truly worthy of that rune.  With your earnings, I could help find you another one, perhaps for your arm.  It would take most of what you acquired, but I have no doubt that in time, it would easily be replaced.”

“Are we haggling on me joining, or is this where I tell you I planned on it from the start?”

Unable to hold back, Bior laughed, letting himself go, and allowed the sound to carry across the field.

Hardened men stopped their training and turned to see their jarl laughing and smiling as he delivered a slap to the back of a warrior they all recognized.

Each man allowed themselves a moment to smile, having seen a rare real expression of joy on the man they served.

Almost as one, they all cheered.

Bior raised his hands after a moment and motioned to them all to return to training.  The sounds of their weapons and shields seemed to connect with new vigor, the moment of life they had experienced just now reminding them why they train.

“I won’t show much favoritism at the start, but if you accomplish what I think you will, I can help you reach whatever height Odin and Thor must have for you.  How does that sound?”

Magnus took his axe from the loop on his belt, knelt on one knee, and laid it at the feet of the man who was just a few steps away.

“I offer my axe to serve in your warband, Jarl Bior.  If you have me, I will always give my best so that one day, our people may be safe from that which threatens it.”

A hand stretched out from the massive man, his blue eyes sparkling, yet surrounded by waters that were held back from cascading over the skin that surrounded them.

It came to rest on Magnus’s head and gave a gentle squeeze on the blond braids.

“Einar Sibbison, I accept your axe and pledge to train you to be the greatest warrior Odin has seen in ages.  Rise and join my guard.”