The brooding Elhir patriarch was trying from keeping a smile of his face. "The office had green carpet back then!"
The slightly taller Elder looked down to the blue carpet. "In my time it was red!" Then he said. "Speak Erik Gustav; there is no one here that does not value your judgment!"
Grandfather smiled and said. "Since I declared myself advocate of my Grandson I am unable to take any official position and give recommendations, but I envision a scenario where the principal addresses the entire school with the Elders present standing with him. It will show everyone that School and Elders are of one mind and that will have more weight on this planet than any statement or word. The Principal would then restate the rules and why it is important to keep them. Eric declines all celebrations because a true warrior does deeds not because of their public rewards.
The Circle of Elders however may mark this feat in honoring our traditions and send my grandson this Summer break to the Halls of Hasvik were he receives proper training and serve the Faceless Seven. He will clean and scrub the halls, steps and yards of the Halls , both the loss of free time during summer break and the hard work that awaits him there should be acceptable punishment for the school."
Grandfather looked the Elhir patriarch directly in the eyes. "I also envision that the School sees the deeds of Sigvard so severe that it decides to let the Elders of this world judge over it. The Elders will then accept a Challenge between Sigvard and Annar. Whatever Outcome of this challenge will be should satisfy the Traditions as well as the concerned Clans without the need for ages of Clan feud."
Everyone except my father smiled. The Elhir Clan Chief slammed his hand on Peerson's shoulder." This is a judgment I could live with. Our sons fight according to the rules before the Elders, regardless the outcome win or loss. This is the Honorable way and even if Sigvard loses or dies, there shall be no more feuds among us!"
Annar's father returned the shoulder grab." We are chiefs and we can make feuds and wars, but we can also end it, our feud has ended! The words of the Ragnarsson Elder are wise and full of honor."
The two Elders walked stately to the door and the left one said. "Principal Valthim, you say the word and the Circle of Elders shall stand behind you in person for this matter and we invite you to come to us with anytime you might face a challenge like this one."
The other Elder nodded. "We have been pupils here at one time. We defend our Traditions but we are not Enemies or against the Union."
It was the principal that sighed but also with a deep grin. "There is nothing else for me to do then to completely agree with that vision and make it the official conclusion to this matter. I must say having the Circle of Elders standing behind me will make all the difference."
The Elhir and Peerson Clan Chiefs said to my father. "Will you join us, Isegrim? We are going to Peerson's Burg and sample his excellent Mead and bury old axes."
"I shall do no such thing! As long as I live there will be no peace between our clans and now that the Peerson Clan is your ally, they are our enemy as well!"
Grandfather shook his head." You are more poisonous than Ouroboros the serpent and I am on my way to visit you, my burg and my grandson personally. It is not proper to speak such things before others but I expect to see my Grandson there alive."
Father took in his breath deeply; I saw it took every ounce of his will to control his rage. "If there is nothing else. I shall leave now with my son!"
The principal sighed. "Mr. Olafson there isn't anything else; you and Eric may leave now, but tomorrow is a regular school day."
Father grabbed me by the hair and dragged me with him.
My fear returned, grandfather was a projection after all. He could not follow us, and he could not protect me for what would happen now! Father kept dragging me through the corridors merciless and without looking at me but he growled. "Your grandfather will pay for insulting me before my peer! His words and his advice mean nothing. He delivered it not in person but by Off-Worlder-technology. The Elders should be ashamed to even look at a projection. A mere picture, less than a shadow! It is not tradition to do business with a shadow!"
Unlike the corridors the school yard was filled with students. It was the usual din of voices but as we appeared it became silent. Lars Igvarhein a local celebrity and radio show host came over however and said with his booming voice. "It is Isegrim Olafson, whose legendary strength flows in the veins of his son!"
This seemed to please father and he stopped and also let go of my head and said."There is no other explanation indeed! Only Olafson blood carries the strength as we revere in our traditions!"
Lars who looked exactly as Off-Worlders thought a Neo Viking should look: reddish blond hair, tall in stature. A square jaw with a perfectly trimmed beard, flashing blue eyes. I knew Midril swooned for him. He had arms no less impressive as these of my father and he clasped his right hand around the arm of my father. "How do you then celebrate this feat? Not to mention the credits a double kill will earn!"
I realized looking at him, that my father had not thought of that, the fish belonged actually to me but that would not stop him of course. Father now actually smiled.
"Celebrate? I expected nothing less. It is the hallmark of all Olafson to perform feats of strength and heroism and accept these labors as tests of the Gods! Celebration would be in order if he had died in battle and earned the right to sit in Valhalla. Instead I will send him to the Nameless Seven so he might learn humility."
Lars who smiled into some recording device behind us took my father's shoulders and turned him around. "Nilfeheim have a look, this is the face of a real Nilfeheim Warrior, Clan chief who lives our ancient ways!"
Then he said to me." What are you going to do with all the money you get from this double kill?"
To avoid an even more severe trashing at home I said. "I am but one servant in the clan and whatever my father deems right."
I was not certain but there might have been a glimpse of approval in my father's face. He nodded to Lars and we went to our skimmer. It would be the first time I would fly in it.
Harkun my father's man servant sat behind the controls and wordlessly engaged the engines as soon as we were in.
Father sat down in a broad leather seat in the back, carefully coiling his whip and then said to me. "You are only alive because I need you to be alive till you are sixteen, then you will accept the Inheritance of your Grandfather and give it to me. After that you are no longer welcome at the Burg."
He no longer paid any attention to me but worked the radio communicator and I heard him say "Clan leaders making peace and doing clan business in the presence of minors and those not of this world, they are despite able! However, they gave me plenty of ammunition for the next Clan leader gathering."
Chapter 14: Ghosts and Death
It turned out Greifen was right. The Elhir, who were the mortal enemies of the Olafson Clan dropped the Fangsnapper from the deck of a Cargo Floater into our back yard. How this was found out, I did not know, but there was word that someone did see an Elhir flyer, just moments before the Fangsnapper attack. Father went before the Elders and made the accusation since open Clan wars were outlawed. The Elhir Chief countered that there was no evidence that it was them, but he suggested that if a single Fangsnapper made such trouble for the Olafson Clan, they would gladly train the Olafsons in real combat...
Everyone expected father to challenge the Elhir Chief, but he did not. My father had beaten me as soon as we had returned to the Burg, but the business of sending boats and men to recover the Tyrannos distracted him and he left me bleeding in the courtyard.
Midril had Greifen bring me into the still room where she tended to my injuries with ointment and bandages. Since she had come back from the Union Hospital with a brand-new arm they had grown her, she often tended to my wounds despite father's command that no one was supposed to show me any form of kindness. She had never spoken about the incident, but she took care of the little girl now and she made sur
e I got a share of the good things that went to the Family Hall. Two days later, a hushed rumor was spreading that a son of the Elhir clan and two of his companions were found lying in front of the Gate of the Elhir Burg. It was said that the companions were dead and the brother to Sigvard had been beaten to within an inch of his life and had the marks of a whip all over his body.
***
On our Burg, nothing changed and I counted the days until grandfather would finally arrive and take me to the Halls of Hasvik.
Nilfeheim seasons never matched Old Terran Time and instead of a season, Earthers called Fall, it was the last year of Longnight and the ice was already gone around our Burg. On our world, it was perhaps the most anticipated time, when the shipwrights took off the ice slides from the keels of the fishing boats and the Tyrannos really came alive and started their migration to the Uhim grounds to mate and feed.
According to our old Earth calendar, today was the Seventh of October 5011, my 12th birthday, but instead of celebrations, I was beaten by father right after breakfast. The reason this time was that Lothar demanded to see me eat out of a Nubhir Wolf bowl under the table, I refused and Gretel demanded that father would do something about it.
He did by pelting his steel cable across my chest and back. I could feel my blood running almost like water and wondered if one could actually get used to pain. I smiled, raised my hands and said "Thank you father, for killing me, now Odin will receive me and I will be with mother!" The Clan Elders of Ragnarsson and of the Olafsons stood and raised their fists and as I slumped to my knees I started to recite the Warriors prayer, hoping the Gods would give me enough time to finish it. Ancient lore promised great favor with the Gods if one died as a warrior and I wanted Odin to look with favor upon my arrival.
"Gods of war I call upon you..."
Kveldulf was a grizzly old but well known warrior of the Ragnarsson clan, with more gray than black hair and a distant Uncle of mine. His face was tanned and wrinkled by the steady glare of Solken, frosty winds and spending a lifetime outside, on the oceans or on the ice. He said, "There is a Viking son without fail. He dies, aye, but Isegrim, with his passing, you lose all rights to this Burg and my oaths that bind me, shackle me no more. I will be the first to challenge thee.
“Let us see how well you stand against a warrior with a sword!" Father yelled. "Greifen, get him to the still room and dial for the Union Doctor!"
It was the last thing I heard and I hoped and prayed silently now as my eyesight faded and my lips no longer wanted to move, that Greifen and the Union Doctor would be too late.
I cursed the doctor, seeing his gentle face on once again rising out of the darkness of oblivion. "No Ergil, cursed are thy skills and cursed is thy Off World Tech. Is it my fate to remain in this world where I am not wanted?"
He shook his head but his smile remained and he said to someone in the room, "He is well enough to insult me." To me he said. "Eric, you almost got your wish but my oath prevents me from letting it happen when I can do something about it, but you got to lie still until the blood replicator has completed the transfusion."
"Curse all oaths and let Hel embrace me!"
The other person in the room was old Kveldulf as I recognized his voice. "You will survive Eric. You are strong! The Huldufolk have their eyes upon you, that is
certain."
"The Hidden people, the Aesir are not with me or they would spare me such a father," I said.
He replied "Warriors are not born in comfort, revenge flows out of the woeful tears of the maimed and tortured, you are the Grandson of my liege and I am bound as he is by oaths and the unbreakable bonds of a warrior's word. You Eric, you are not!"
The doctor paid little attention to what was said, checked his machine and then he said. "I will send the flyer in the morning to collect the equipment. I personally hope the day of Union Law coming to this cold barbaric world is soon. Then no child will have to suffer such cruelty." With these words, he deactivated the GalNet Avatar projection and blinked out into nothingness.
Kveldulf, arranged his Fangsnapper fur lined cloak, with a sweeping gesture of his sinew bulging underarm and sat down on a stool next to the gurney I was on.
He checked the machine and tapped it with his finger. "Marvelous little thing, it replaces your blood. You know you left almost all you had on the stone floors of the Great Hall."
"I had not intended to be there nor did I have much to say about the bleeding part."
"Aye a heavy load you carry, child, but there was not a dry eye nor a throat not stricken with pride and guilt in that hall as you, twelve years old, smiled instead of screaming and raised your arms to Odin. Oh lad! it will be told within these walls for many Longnights to come."
"I doubt Gretel or Lothar, or my father felt any such things and he will whip anyone who dares to speak of me."
"Even though, horrible is his temper and evil are his deeds, your Stepmother saw her future run away with your blood. Evil can never stand against valor and it is by the hand of vengeance, that this Burg will be cleansed."
"I could not stop him from killing my mother and I can do nothing against him, I am weak!" He put his strong hand on my arm. "Today on far distant earth they would celebrate your birthday, but we are Norse. We are Vikings we do not celebrate the day we are born. Nay we celebrate the day we receive our name. I was there when you received yours."
I looked away. "I wish I was never born, then, mother would not have died protecting me." "Your mother wanted you. She wanted nothing more on this world than you; her fate was sealed when the pact of the Clan chiefs was made. One kept quiet about the failings of his son and the other was blind to the signs and warnings given."
"But your name day, it was a grand day. The entire Burg was decked out in Olafson red and Ragnarsson black. A son, a first son was born into the world. The Conjurers and Seers that travel from Burg to Burg to cast the runes and see the signs, they all came. Clan lords from as far as the Green Eastern Sea came. The Lord Keeper of Hasvik itself made the trip from the Halls of the Faceless Seven. All the Elders even the Eldest of them all came, for your grandfather is a mighty man and the Ragnarsson Falcon is a standard feared and awed. "
"You, Eric, are the one combining the blood of ancient Clans. One of which, must fade into oblivion as no male heir is left, but it will not die, as you hold the power to resurrect the Ragnarssons once you have sons and decide to break the Seal and raise the Falcon standard once more."
"Do you know, it was the Eldest, whom they say is a Wizard of great age and powers beyond those of men, who took the Cup that was called Blotbolli? A cup, made of the skull of a long vanquished foe, filled with fresh blood of a Tyranno slain and doused you with it, then your name was spoken by the Elders, by the Keepers and all who were present and they raised the name Eric with mighty bellows to the rafters of the High Hall."
As he spoke, the old man raised his right hand against the vaulted ceiling, "Eric Thor Olafson, the Keeper of Hasvik himself, insisted your middle name is of the mightiest of all Aesir. It was Alrik Eric Olafson, who was the first of thy clan to set foot on this world.
It was Erik Thorsten, who did so for the Ragnarssons. Erik Gustav is thy Grandfather's name and now it is your name." He clenched his fist with a fierce proud glare in his bearded face, "The Eternal Seer, the Hermit of the Pillar himself came to your crib.
They say he is a Necromancer, a Wizard who knows secrets not of this world. Secrets not understood by all the science of the Union. He threw the rune stones for you and explained to all that the name Eric is of Scandinavian origin, an old name from Earth and the meaning of Eric is 'ruler of all'. It is also of Old English origin, where its meaning is 'eternal ruler.'
The Old Seer said that the runes told him that you would make the meaning of your name come true!" I listened to the tale of the old man and I did enjoy these old stories, but I was certain it was just that, stories and nothing more.
The Blood machine was not done and neither was he.
"In the Great Hall it was when your father held you high above his head and yelled 'Behold my Son!' there were many axes and swords lifted in thy honor. Then, like the Queen of Nilfeheim itself, your mother came down the stairs, her hair as golden as the sun, in a dress fit for the Elfenkind. With her, was your grandfather and he proclaimed his sacred vow, that all that is Ragnarsson on this world and all worlds beyond the skies shall be yours on the day you are a man." I turned so he would not see my tears, I missed her so much. I whispered, "Why has it turned out like this?"
"Because evil stalks this rock, evil disguised in red satin and velvet, using witchcraft and trickery that is not of Nilfeheim, for nothing else can turn a man such as your father into the lackey of a woman, Eric." He patted my shoulder. "Now it is time you find some rest."
***
It was only a few days after that, when I came home from school, there was a big crowd in the yard of our Burg, men stood around a bier propped up and on it lay the body of Old Kveldulf. Greifen pulled me back into the shadow overhang of the kitchen wall and whispered. "Don't be seen now!"
"What happened?" I gasped.
"They say he fell on the steep stairs to the Sub Den and broke his neck, just as the Old chief, Volund Olafson did." I heard father's strong voice.
"Throw him to the fishes, he dared to speak against me on my table and now he has robbed me of the chance to teach him a lesson." He made a vulgar gesture. "Let Hel take care of him now. There is much work to do so get to it!"
Even from where I was standing, I could see his smug grin and the triumphant glare of his eyes. I was only 12, but I was convinced Kveldulf did not die of an accident. However, I heeded Greifen's advice and slipped into the under crofts and hid in the deep old basements for the rest of the day.
***
Death was not done and Hel still had her hand over the Burg, because, the very next day, Geirhild, one of the Free women working in the Tanneries, threw herself off the Northern ramparts, where the Duro Crete and rock walls of our Burg clung to the very edge of the sheer cliffs. Nobody told me why she did it. Midril said this was something I should better not know, yet, I heard one of the kitchen helpers whisper that she saw Harkun, my father's manservant with her on that wall, just before she jumped.
Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 6 (The Galactic Chronicles Series) Page 165