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Rated: ASR · Fiction · Action/Adventure · #1941994
A father's tale of himself to his child in a Viking-style fantasy.
         Listen, my son, to how your father fought a king's war . . .

         It was years ago; long before you were born. I was young then, but strong and just bloodied. Skill with the sword and the ferocity of my rage won me many great trials early on. So, I became a berserk and slew many powerful foes. However, the thrill of combat soon grew to taste like ash and I fell in among a sea king's host. They were few but strong and the raiding we committed was profitable. Yet, our king, Hjroli became too arrogant, and though I was made his Axe-bearer I could do nothing to persuade him. When he heard that the Jotunnland was far to the North of the Green Isles, he sailed all of his twenty ships there to ravage its coasts. So, listen my son to the tale of a foolish king's war.

         It was midday on the day of Njor's birth. The sun had risen high early that morning, so the Jotunnland was clear to even the farthest of our longships. I wore a hauberk of mail, an iron cap and had fastened to my back a long handled axe.The prow of the ship divided the sea water like a bird soaring through the air, and the wind rippled the sails like a beating drum. I took my rightful place at the figurehead of the ship, making myself ready for the combat which would come. For days, all of us had been lamenting the aspect of fighting the Jotunn; giants fabled to reach the height of pines. But we readied our hearts and frequently did I boast of human strength and of how Njor had slain a thousand Jotunn. Out of our twenty ships, we had fifty men per. As Axe-bearer, my ship and I were at the forefront. Behind us, was Hjroli and his other retainers. I will not lie, I did not relish combating giant-folk for I had seen smaller giants crack open helm-bearing men's skulls. However, I was and am no coward.

         As our ships reached ever closer to the island, I could see exactly where we would land. A densely wooded beach covered only by the debris the sea and the closing forest. In no way was it the best spot to land but it was ours. Within an hour of hard rowing and the shifting of the wind, we finally made it. Our oaken vessels made a sound similar to a sharpening blade when they flew onto the sandy beach. Launching myself off the figurehead I was first to stand on the land of giants. And to my dismay it was no great honor.

         From a path out of the forest's edge came a great host of the giants. Know what we did not at the time; that giants can not only strike better than us but see and smell as well. I knew immediately that they had known of our coming and prepared such a host. Turning I saw my brothers clench their teeth in fear. Throwing the lead out of my heart, I went and met their charge head to head and my brothers took heart in my bravery and followed my action. Now the giant folk were great in size indeed, but their height varied between seven and ten feet. Sadly, according to legends they were indeed great craftsmen as each one wore a splendid hauberk of mail made from shining steel, the color of silver. Whilst, however, many of us wore only leather or cloth.

         The combat started poorly for our number as when we crashed against them, shield to shield and blade to blade, twenty of our men passed under their onslaught. In the initial contact, I slew two of the Jotuun; one with a stroke through the neck and the other with a back swing to the thigh which cut all the way to the groin. The first seconds of battle rang with such a thunderous bellowing that many of our brothers were cut down distracted by the deafening sounds. The great sprays of blood drenched even the farthest combatant and the clotting liquid made the sifting sands become like stone. The arrival of our others gave respite to many as fifty at a time came to join the fray.

         In time it seemed as though we could not only win but turn the tide completely. Hjroli, in his once magnificent white cloak now completely red, advanced and took the fight to the Jotuun. Bashing his shield and biting his blade, he cajoled them, and out of their ranks came a mighty warrior. Eleven feet high he stood in shining hauberk, helm and hardened leather. A mighty shield forty inches in diameter and a sword as many long were his armaments. A great, red beard flowed from under his helm and his glowing eyes pierced the hearts of all who gazed upon them. Hjroli, though, was not daunted. Advancing he clashed with the giant warrior, shield to shield and blade to blade. However, with one stroke the giant flew asunder Hjroli's sword and dashed his shield to a thousand pieces. Naked of both sword and shield, Hjroli was slain with the second strike; so fast and powerful that he did not know of it and it split him head to toe.

         "I am Gunnvaldr," the giant said. "cower in fear those who cannot die fighting. For none shall I spare, but instead shall I feed you all to the demons of this land." And my brothers were deeply afraid. Hjroli was thought to have been one of our strongest and he was laid low without a sigh from his slayer. Seeing them, my brothers clenching their teeth in fear, I took the forefront position as was my role and challenged Gunnvaldr. He spited me and answered my challenge by lunging as a berserk would.

         Taking my time, I waited and stood to his right. As he came upon, he swung his sword down wide to my right as to how I was positioned. But when he swung his sword, I squatted down so that it only knocked my helm off and then I gripping my axe tight by the head hacked at his right knee. The bone cracked loud and the leg fell dismembered. The giant screeched in pain as he fell over and I jumping upon him cut off his head.

         My brothers were alighted to see my victory, while the giant's kin gnashed their teeth in anguish. But the battle was not done, as grief turns to rage the giants advanced with a terrible fervor The respite of the duel had, however, gave us the time to mass all of our soldiery together and, though pushed back to the ships, we held firm a mighty shield wall. The battle would continue for many hours later as time and time again our shield wall was tested by their strength of size and number.

         However, as midday turned to evening and the sun's light still shone somewhat, the might of the Jotuun host was fully realized. With one great charge our shield wall was broken and our fighting turned into a brawl of flesh and steel. In this instance I found myself surrounded on all sides by the Jotuun. They encircled me and closed fast my escape, so I stood and whirled my axe around me. Striking out at all that encircled me, I created a whirlwind of heavy iron which bit and chewed flesh. Entrapped, I struck to and fro, never failing to make a back-swing against my next foe. Finally, my brothers, inspired by the tumult which I made among the giants, brought together the line and succored me with a renewed shield wall.

         As the day finally came to an end and the last of the sun's light nearly diminished, the fighting stopped. Out from the giant's ranks, came an elder of their kind. Though dressed in their armaments, and he grizzly in appearance and very frail from age. Speaking, he said to us, "You vikings from afar lands have indeed brought much admiration to these old eyes. Pray, will you cease this conflict before all of you are slain." And it was then that I understood why the giants had stopped. Looking around, I saw that only fourteen of us were still alive.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1941994-Helmundr--Part-One