Margret ordered: “Now, when Grendel slides, everyone knows what to do!”
“He’s not sliding!” yelled Grum and indeed, Grendel’s long claw-like toenails dug through the thin slippery ice, only momentarily slowed its headlong pace.
“Grum!” yelled Margret. “Strike Farling’s shield as hard as you can! Everyone, stop your ears.”
Weeks of training paid off as without question Grum struck Farling’s shield with his war hammer using all his strength.
Farling was unfazed, as was Grum, but the sound was like the largest thunderclap ever heard.
Grendel however howled in pain throwing his hands over his ears as he seemed to be in terrible pain. Even the audience cried aloud in shock and pain.
Margret ordered: “Grum, Farling, strike Grendel hard!”
“Strike his head,” yelled Farling. “I will go for his heart!”
Grum nodded as he raised his war hammer over one shoulder and struck Grendel squarely on the top of his head. At the same time, Farling plunged his sword deep in Grendel’s back trying to find he creature’s heart.
Grum’s blow caused Grendel’s chin to slam into his chest. Black blood gushed where Farling stabbed the troll.
But as Grum raised his war hammer for another blow, Grendel flailed and twisted his body. Grum tried in vain to bring his war hammer down in time on Grendel’s arm but was too late as Grendel struck Grum squarely in the chest. Grendel’s blow lifted Grum throwing him backwards.
Farling barely held on to his sword when Grendel twisted. He backed away, his shield raised, as he moved over to protect Grum who lay on the ground, stunned.
Grendel stood and stared at his attackers. Where Grum had struck, a huge welt appeared. Grendel gingerly touched his injury. His eyes focused on Farling and Grum.
Farling raised his shield in time just stopping Grendel’s savage attack. Farling swung his sword at Grendel’s claw-like fingers and managed to cut one of Grendel’s fingers, severing it at the knuckle.
Sweat poured off Farling’s face as he watched in amazement as Grendel, unfazed by losing part of his finger, merely picked up the severed digit with his other hand and reattached it. He flexed the injured hand, and the injured finger was now fine. Even the welt on his head seemed to be quickly subsiding.
“I forgot,” said Farling, “he regenerates.”
Grum had now recovered and stood behind Farling. “I think he cracked several of my ribs,” he wheezed.
“Then do not laugh or sneeze,” advised Farling.
As Grendel loomed above Farling and Grum, an arrow suddenly appeared in his right eye.
Margret notched another arrow.
“Towards us!” she cried. Farling and Grum backpedaled towards her and Arastead.
Grendel tore out the arrow, black blood streaming down his face from his ruined eye socket.
“What’s the plan?” yelled Farling.
“We burn him,” said Margret her eyes ablaze with their own fire. She loosed another arrow at Grendel but missed his other eye, striking the monster in the cheek.
Grendel howled in rage and hurled himself at the group, his long nails raking the air.
Arastead pointed his quarterstaff at the monster and screamed his spell. Fire shot out of the end of his quarterstaff like a geyser, striking Grendel full in the chest.
Margret cried: “Grum, strike Farling’s shield again!”
The sound affected Grendel worse this time as if it was somehow louder. He threw his head back in pain, his hands over his ears, his howls piercing the air. The skin on his chest still smoldered and ribs could be seen as charred flesh peeled away.
Margret loosed another arrow and this one did find its mark making Grendel completely blind.
“Now what?” cried Grum. “His eyes will grow back if we give him enough time.”
Grendel pulled the other arrow out of his eye. His face was now gruesome to behold. He stopped screaming and began sniffing the air loudly.
“He is looking for us by smell,” hissed Farling. “Arastead, burn him again!”
“I cannot,” whispered Arastead, “as it was too powerful a spell and I am spent.”
“Princess,” said Farling, “can your arrows reach his heart?”
Margret nodded: “Yes, as Arastead has burned away his flesh, my arrow should now be able to reach it,” she said.
Grendel had stopped sniffing, and now ran towards them, his hands groping wildly.
Margret calmly stood her ground.
“Let go your arrow!” cried Farling.
“Not yet,” murmured Margret under her breath.
“Princess!”
“Now!”
Her arrow sped unerringly at Grendel’s chest missing rib bones and sunk deep in the monster’s chest. The pearl in her circlet burned brightly.
Grendel staggered, his legs suddenly weak. He clutched at his chest, but could not pull out the arrow.
“Is he dead?” asked Grum.
“Another arrow if you please, princess,” said Farling. “That was not a killing blow.”
Margret drew an arrow to her ear and as she did the troll leapt up charging the group. Margret loosed her arrow but somehow the troll knocked it aside.
“Behind me!” cried Farling.
The first smash of Grendel’s fist landed squarely on Farling’s shield, causing no harm. But his other fist came around Farling’s shield and knocked him so hard to the ground that he did not rise.
Grum screamed and swung his hammer striking Grendel on a shoulder. The force of the blow knocked Grendel to the ground, but in a heartbeat, he was on his feet again, fingernails raking the ground and the air.
Grum raised his hammer, ready to strike, but Grendel came on like a hurricane. Grum’s hammer swing went wide, and Grendel struck Grum to the ground, unconscious.
As Grendel bent over Grum’s prostate body, ready to bite and tear flesh, he screamed.
“You will not eat my friend!” cried Arastead. Flames poured forth from his quarterstaff, bathing Grendel in fire. But Arastead’s already pale face turned white and whiter by the moment. Peg’s eyes glowed green with eldritch power, but even she too seemed weaker by the moment.
Margret ripped out her new sword and screamed the Aarlund war cry as she bore down on Grendel. Arastead’s flames had now stopped. The pearl in Margret’s circlet glowed brightly as she struck again and again at Grendel. The troll tried in vain to strike her but all his punches just missed as Margret knew exactly where he was to strike next.
Soon, Margret’s breath became labored and her movements slowed.
But Grendel never slowed, his breath never labored. It was just a moment of time before Grendel’s fists would land, and then it happened. Margret sidestepped a moment too slow and Grendel’s fist knocked her to the ground, unconscious.
“No!” cried Arastead. Weak beyond measure, he rushed at Grendel, swinging his quarterstaff, striking the ogre squarely on its back.
Grendel did not even look at Arastead, just merely swung a meaty fist in his direction, hurling Arastead and Peg against one of the arena’s walls.
Grendel now rose to his full horrific height and glared at all the elves watching from the safety of the stands. Then, at the sound of someone yelling at him, he turned.
King Amaliji had leapt into the arena, his Vorpal Blade drawn.
Grendel’s smile was horrible to behold as he gnashed his teeth. When he spoke, a shudder went through the crowd.
“Your throat, I will tear,” began Grendel, “your bones, I will crack. Your skin, I will flay.”
Amaliji said: “I liked you better when you were quiet, troll. Do you recognize this sword?”
Grendel hesitated. Said: “The Vorpal Blade. My kin hid it long ago.”
“Obviously not well guarded. Now say your goodbyes to whatever troll gods you pray to, for your end is nigh.”
While they had talked, Grendel’s regeneration powers had healed all his wounds. He spread his arms wide, flexing
his muscles.
Grendel approached cautiously. Amaliji held his sword low so that it just touched the ground.
“Elf-king, fool,” hissed Grendel.
And with those words, Grendel charged, his arms swinging, his fingernails raking the air.
Amaliji stood his ground, pivoting on one heel at the last possible moment so that Grendel’s fingernails raked only empty air.
The Vorpal Blade hummed as it cut the air, singing its song of battle and glory. Cutting easily through one of Grendel’s wrists, the troll’s hand leapt in the air, landing with an oddly numb sound when it hit the ground.
Grendel stared mutely at the stump of his arm. No ichor oozed from the wound as it had healed seamlessly.
Grendel stopped gnashing his teeth.
Amaliji smiled.
Grendel muttered to himself then sighed as he stared at the sky. Leveling his gaze on the elf-king, he charged once more, this time in silence, his arms at his sides.
Grendel’s head leapt from his shoulders landing on the ground like a sack of potatoes, as the Vorpal Blade sliced through muscle, tendon, and bone without any resistance.
The troll’s body stumbled for a bit, then fell to the ground.
The crowd erupted in cheers as flowers and other offers of appreciation showered the ground.
Amaliji’s smile never disappeared as his gaze wandered over the dead troll, then over the unconscious Farling, Grum, Arastead, and Margret.
CHAPTER 30
Fresh Coffee
Farling woke with a groan.
His hands moved gently over his ribs, feeling the bandages wrapping his body. His fingers gingerly touched his head, feeling more bandages.
He opened his eyes with difficulty as his eyelids had never felt this heavy.
The room looked smoky at first, then swirled into focus.
He recognized the books on the shelves. He was in Mage’s room.
He took a deep breath, knowing that it would be painful to pull himself up into a sitting position—and it was.
A low groan sounded from somewhere deep as his feet touched the ground. He fought the urge to retch.
Mage asked: “Would you like a coffee?”
Farling waved off the offer. Said: “I fear, Mage, that a coffee right now would just be wasted as it would wind up on the ground, a puddle at my feet.”
“I will merely keep it warm then for you, when you are ready.”
Farling looked around the room. His friends all lay asleep in their beds. Bandages covered various parts of them as well.
Farling pushed himself up. He swayed on his feet. This time his stomach didn’t churn in protest quite as much. Somehow, he made it over to the small kitchen, and sat on a stool.
“Do you have any food that can go with that coffee?” he asked.
“Of course,” said Mage. “A hot coffee on an empty stomach would do you no favors.”
“So, Mage, I do not remember much once Grendel got around my shield. Did you have to step in to save us, your favorite students?”
Mage smiled a toothsome ogre smile. “No, I did not save you.”
“Well, it must have been someone, as I do not believe Grendel would have stopped.”
“King Amaliji.”
Farling’s jaw dropped and his mouth hung open. After a few moments of disbelief, he snapped his mouth shut.
“What! How?”
And Mage described in detail everything that had happened in the stadium.
“How was Amaliji in battle?” Farling held his breath in anticipation of the reply.
“Better than I remember.”
Farling exhaled loudly.
“I suppose he is elf-king for a reason. How quickly did he destroy Grendel?”
“First he removed one of Grendel’s hands. And as the cut had been made with the Vorpal Blade, Grendel’s hand did not regenerate.”
“And then?”
“Grendel seemed resigned to his fate. He met his end courageously when his head separated from his shoulders.”
Farling shivered. “A mighty blade.”
“Wielded by an expert swordsman.”
“Tell me, Mage, when the elves invade Midgard, as I am sure they will at some point, it is just a matter of time, what of the battle, which side will win?”
Mage grunted and rubbed his chin in thought. Said: “The elves were the Chosen of Odin for a reason. Their might in battle was unparalleled. Their shield wall yields no ground, truly impenetrable. Their thirst for battle is un-slackened, their desire to destroy Midgard remains as strong as ever.”
“And if they find this Sorceress, what then for Midgard?”
“The end of everything you know.”
CHAPTER 31
Margret Heals
It had been several days since Farling and his friends had fought and lost to Grendel, king of trolls. Farling’s friends had awoken soon after he had, and they had all made their way about Mage’s room tentatively, their injuries still smarting. Only Grum ate as soon as he woke, claiming that it was the best way for him to heal.
Margret was the only healer in the group and as she was injured, had not been able to provide much healing assistance to the others. Mage had bound wounds and provided some healing magic, but his skills paled in comparison to Margret’s. And, since Mage did not wear Freya’s circlet, he was at a further disadvantage.
But now that it had been several days and Margret did feel better, she felt it best to test her healing abilities again.
Mage said: “Arastead was injured the most in the battle with Grendel. I would advise you start with him.”
Arastead had been barely able to walk around Mage’s room, even after three days. His cat and familiar, Peg, had never left his side. Arastead lay on his bed, his breathing labored. Peg’s tail twitched nervously.
“Are you ready?” Margret asked as she sat on a stool beside him. Arastead nodded.
She closed her eyes, moved her hands above Arastead’s chest.
“There is fluid in his lungs, it must be drained,” she said.
“How will you heal his lungs?” asked Mage.
“It is the elements that heal,” she said. “Earth heals bones, water cleans wounds, air stops bleeding, and fire burns infections. It is the runes carved upon Yggdrasil that allows the element magic to appear in the realms.”
“So, which element will you use?”
“I cannot use fire to boil away the fluid as I would damage his lungs. I cannot use air as it would inflate his lungs to the point of bursting. Earth would do nothing, and water of course would merely add more. I will use a combination of fire and air. I will be ever so gentle, so that as the fluid turns to moisture, I will draw it out.”
“There is another way.”
“How is that?”
“Your healing magic, you are used to using it in a positive manner. You can also use it as a negative.”
“How is that?”
“You presently use your healing magic by adding the elements, in various degrees and combinations, to heal wounds. But like any wound, sometimes you need to remove the injury.”
“If I follow you, Mage, then you mean I will remove the fluid using the water rune? I will drain his lungs of the excess fluid?”
“Exactly, so instead of removing the fluid from Arastead’s lungs by boiling it away, as if boiling water in a pot, and then using air to blow it away as by a wind, you will remove the fluid simply by making it disappear. You use your powers to heal. You can also use your powers to destroy. You can use the earth healing rune to weaken bones by removing their strength, you can use fire to burn skin as if by the sun, you can remove air from someone’s lungs so that they struggle for breath, and you can use water to drain someone of their fluid.”
Margret was shocked. “I never thought of using my healing magic to cause damage.”
“Yes, but in this case, it is fluid you need to remove from Arastead’s lungs. You will not damage him by using your water rune healing abilit
ies in the opposite manner from which you are accustomed as he has an excess of water. But beware, you must not drain too much fluid from his lungs else they will dry out.”
“I would prefer not to use new magic when healing Arastead.”
“I am afraid you have no choice, princess. Your idea to drain the fluid from Arastead’s lungs will not work as that is not how lungs work.”
Grum interjected by asking: “And how is it that you know so much of the physical makeup of people?”
“Warrior Grum, the education of an Ogre Mage is quite complete and covers many, many topics.”
“I guess we will need to trust Mage on this,” said Farling. “Arastead appears paler than when we started.”
Arastead chuckled lightly, then coughed. Said: “I fear I will not be able to put up much of a fight, even if I disagree. Princess Margret, I have seen you heal Queen Astrid. I know you to be a healer of incredible power. In this I trust you and am confident in your abilities.”
Margret nodded then said: “And for that, I am glad, Arastead. Yes, I have done great healings even when it was new to me. I do wish Nas was here, though, his support was always immeasurable.”
Now Grum nodded. “I too wish Nas was here, even though he scares me at times,” he said. “Actually, he scares me all the time.”
Farling chuckled, then said: “I think what Grum is trying to say is that we trust you. With or without Nas.”
“Fine,” said Margret. “Tell me, Mage, how then do I create the opposite of healing?”
“You are used to drawing magic from Yggdrasil,” said Mage. “This time, you will be putting magic back into Yggdrasil.”
“Oh! In some ways you make it sound so simple, but it cannot be as easy as that.”
“Indeed, it is, princess. You have been trained to have the magic flow from the source, from Yggdrasil through you in its various elements and combinations. Now, this time, you will not be opening yourself to Yggdrasil, you will be moving magic through in the opposite direction; you will be moving the magic back into Yggdrasil. First, you must shield yourself from Yggdrasil as you do not want to draw magic from it, but you will need to open to Yggdrasil, but this time, the magic flows in the other direction.”
The Prophecy of Asgard Page 22