TRONDHEIM SAGEN: Earth Shattering

by Andreas Hennen

  "My King, wouldn't it be more prudent to use the vegetation as cover and travel through the Tendard forest?" asked the dark skilful equestrian armiger.

  The answer was not long in arriving. Quick and decided, the serious voice King Godwin affirmed:

  "I wouldn't go into that nauseating greenery even if it were the last possible solution. It would be just as bad as trying your luck at the Arcane Fort, creeping through the black tunnels to follow the Rotten Way under the Gloomy Mountain! Righteous turned around and looked for his own glass to drink another drop of milk and reflect.

  "My Lord of the South, as things stand at present, the risks are more or less the same. Perhaps the fetid vegetation would hide your body more effectively than the muddy lands of the Long Plain," commented Prince Saxon.

  "Don't insist! The forest would be our tomb, with sharp sniffing snouts and large tusks dominating its green foliage. The intricate undergrowth often tangles the legs of both men and horses, turning them into hearty meals for the beings that live there" was the satisfactory response of the Lord of the South.

  "I totally agree with King Godwin!" Titus exclaimed on his return, after having personally sent the hawks, not finding the Chamberlain. "The Long Plain must be taken at a gallop without hesitation or rethinking, straight towards Hal Barat. You must travel at breakneck speed, but not only three in number, however valiant you may be!" Titus stopped again for a moment and, approaching the Lord of the South, asked, "My King, would you be annoyed if my soldiers accompanied you as a small escort?"

  "Certainly not! To tell the truth, I didn't dare ask you for such a sacrifice, given your problems," Godwin answered with a smile, satisfied by the generous offer.

  "So if you will allow me, father, I would like my men to be the escort! I remain blocked here, but they are great warriors!" proposed Saxon with a dash of pride.

  "If your soldiers come of their own free will, I would be happy to enjoy their protection!" Righteous answered with gratitude.

  Titus sat down in his place, finished the bread and meat, he had previously grabbed before going to send the hawks, and reported:

  "The hawks are flying. I thought it was right to warn King Grigor as well, but I did not mention our meeting or the hawks sent elsewhere. Trusting an honest person in these times is already a serious risk, but Sire Grigor is sure death."

  The joke against King Grigor just a few days ago would have caused a beautiful smile on Godwin's face. But now the cogs of war had been set in motion thunderously. It seemed too late to stop the course of events, because every blade of grass seemed to offer a new hidden horror, and every lost moment tore a shred of happiness from Godwin’s heart.

  Chapter 14

  Seventeen blades and a Nordic hammer

  After they had finished breakfast and it was time to mount their horses. The three travellers thanked Titan for his spartan but very welcome hospitality. They would surely feel the lack of such a welcome for many moons. On the square, in front of the large window above the portal, twenty soldiers in white armour arranged in a circle were talking among themselves. Their armour was similar to the beautiful protection worn by the son and heir.

  Each soldier held a long spear. At the top was a threatening black steel wedge, which did not reflect or seem touched by the rays emitted by the warm sun of that morning. Just under the sharp steel hung, unmoving, a blue forked flag. Beautiful swords shone at the side of each knight, their blades were on display sending out flashes of light. The unusual and impractical decision had been taken to adopt half scabbards. The lower half of the weapon hung free. As was usual for many knights, they all wore a chain mail coif: a sort of hood made of metal mesh. The metal was separated from their skin by another blue fabric hood, lightly padded with wool in order to mitigate the violence of any blow to the head.

  While the knights were debating, Godwin helped Saxon to get to the square. He was in pain and in poor shape, but he was determined to salute the men of his garrison. Walking caused sudden agonising pain in his affected leg, but nevertheless, the prior clung to his crutch like a climber to the rock. His pride made him grit his teeth, never relinquishing his great desire to prove himself strong to his subordinates. He wanted to be the object of admiration and pride in the eyes of King Godwin. Titus was intent on following him, silently worried.

  The men in black armour lined up as soon as they saw their King and prince crossing the threshold of the Abbey.

  "My brave soldiers, my brothers, I am still with you!" Saxon was forced to stop and hold back a grimace of pain.

  "My Commander, my King, my guests, we wish you a good day! I am Fulk, Vice Commander of the Guardians of the Faith, First Guard of Honour of the Abbey Prior Fortress and these are my most talented and daring brothers, we are all at your command!" The not-so-young Commander who appeared was well known throughout warrior chronicles. He enjoyed great fame as a man and no less as a soldier. The storytellers had for some time been spreading stories of his remarkable war deeds during his debatable past as a mercenary. But the stories about Fulk told of dedication, honesty and defence of the faith, not only dark deeds and blood.

  "My brothers, I only ask for those who wish to volunteer. The task will be heavy, fraught with challenges and dangers!" Saxon stopped in order to hide yet another stabbing pain. "I will not be able to ride alongside you and this fills my heart with sad regret, but the saddle is impossible for me even at a trot. The mission will be to escort King Godwin, Lord of the South, to his possessions, passing across the Long Plain in the direction of Hal Barat. I will not hide from you the arduous path and the certain risk inherent in such a request. Should some of you find this plan crazy and unreasonable, you may withdraw without fear of ridicule or scorn."

  None of the twenty knights took a step back, but neither did they step forward. Their tense and amazed faces showed their surprise regarding the unexpected request, leaving them all astonished and perplexed. The proposal stopped the words in their mouths and any action from their minds. It was Fulk who took the first solid step, saving him and his men from embarrassment and shame. He shouted:

  "I am with the Lord of the South!"

  His cry was echoed by a second soldier who was quite old, but delightedly proud to be wearing his old armour marked by many blows from many battles:

  "I will follow you too, my Sire!"

  The cry of a third warrior resounded strongly. He took off his sword and pointed it to the sky. Amid the admiring applause of those present, he exclaimed:

  "I am Sigfred, son of Euten, never will anyone be able to tell falsehood and lies about me, portraying me as a coward who flies from a challenge in the hour of need!"

  A big man with a square face and a long, red frizzy moustache came forward. He too had participated in numerous battles and was one of the few knights of humble origin. He had made his way with a double-sided axe until he received his title for merit in battle. This man still wielded his huge two-bladed weapon, making it look like a minute toy in his hands. The red man was so large and heavy that he could be compared with of brave Holaf. Not only was this knight famous for his size, but also for the fury with which, brandishing his axe, he eliminated enemies in battle. He enjoyed fame among warriors throughout the Kingdom. The man had been nicknamed the Woodcutter, given the power of his every blow, each capable of knocking down a grown tree.

  A loud metallic noise distracted the attention from Sigfred's growls and shouting, He was full of adrenaline having just volunteered. One of the twenty had just knelt holding a rosary in his hands, reciting prayers in an ancient language that few now understood. One of those few included King Godwin. The kneeling man had a bald head had and fairly friendly appearance. He didn’t exactly look like a rude soldier. He appeared bony and thin in the face with many wrinkles, which made him seem older than he actually was. It was very difficult to guess how many winters he had seen. He had two large chains lying between the stop rib of his shoulder plates and his neck. The chains held to two enormous maces
, whose steel heads were made up of sixteen metal blades. The blades had very long staggered teeth, able to break through any armour with ease. When he had finished praying, the bald man got up and stood beside the other four courageous warriors as he presented himself:

  "I am Melkior. I will dedicate my weapons and my healing arts to you, my Lord of the South!"

  Godwin, applauding like everyone else, was very pleased to learn of the medical skills of the new warrior and exclaimed:

  "A courageous man, a believer and thirdly, even a healer, what more can I expect from a single man!"

  Melkior responded to the compliment with a deep bow. Another five daring warriors volunteered to fill the ranks of the group, but it was the eleventh man who stepped forward who generated amazement.

  "I would like to come with you, my Sire!" the young stable boy exclaimed in a clear voice. He had been sent to welcome King Godwin on his arrival. Now he appeared with the three horses beautifully groomed and rested. He was dressed in complete armour, but still the wrong size. Amidst the uproar of the armigers and knights attending the ceremony, Godwin was quite moved and addressed the young man without hesitation:

  "You know, my child, I'm afraid you will have to resign yourself to allowing more sand to flow through your hourglass before you can take part in a battle."

  "I'm ten years old, my King, and for two I have trained in the art of swordsmanship!" It was a bold and brave response, from that child from the stable to the Great King.

  "Go back to the stables, baby, there's no room for you here!" exclaimed a patrol armiger in the square, laughing and insulting the infant.

  "You, Sire, if only you would step forward, you would certainly have a place among my daring knights!" Godwin provoked him with a hard voice and penetrating gaze.

  "Are you speaking to me, Your Majesty?" asked the armiger, stuttering.

  "Of course, I am referring to you!" The Lord of the South responded shortly.

  "But I cannot, Your Majesty, have a family and also duties towards the Abbey," the whimpering armiger tried to look small and defenceless.

  "He derides the actions of a child, full of himself as an adult! Even if the number of your birthdays makes you undeniably older than this young infant, you are certainly no more of a man!" said King Godwin showing off his considerable lexical ability to express ideas, as well as insults.

  The armiger stood still, frozen by fear and insecurity. From his catatonic gaze it was easy to see the confusion created by Godwin’s articulated reasoning.

  "The King of the Kings of the South has called you a bully with the weak but, when put to the test, you become the weakest of all!" a knight who had just joined the group of volunteers shouted, simplifying the words of Righteous in his own way.

  In the square an unexpected shout of laughter rang out, caused by the unexpected clear explanation.

  "Brother Franz, thank you for your enlightening translation!" Saxon exclaimed, applauding the courage of his companion who had just arrived among the heroes.

  King Godwin, as he finished applauding, gave the child a caress for the adult courage he had shown and whispered to him:

  "I would like to take you with me, one of my twenty children would be about your age, and I'm sure, you would be able to serve him well. However I must beg you to stay at the fortress. The journey is treacherous, and in the near future many will fall, leaving no skilled fighting men in the castles and cities. Your time will come, young warrior, do not be in a hurry, if God wishes, you will have your turn!"

  They were the last words addressed to the great hearted young man. Despite numerous repeated pleas from the child, the position of the Lord of the South did not vary. Three other knights of Terra joined the company as they prepared to leave. There was only one post left, the last place for glory and perhaps death.

  Finally, the fifteenth warrior arrived at a fast gallop, passing through the large portal of the wall surrounding the fortress Deus Ex Terra. He was on the back of a very large steed, protected by armour of intimidating black steel. The newcomer brought the tawny mantled horse to the place where all the other horses waited for their masters. His arrival was thunderous, like a landslide of rocks on a hillside. He was a huge knight of rough appearance. He had a large burnished helmet with a long, flowing red crest that danced at every step the mighty stranger took. His lowered visor allowed nothing of his face to be seen, nor did it offer clues as to his origin. His powerful shoulders, covered with large shoulder plates, as red as fresh blood, did not bear any insignia. The careful workmanship of the entire armour, totally covered in runic signs, indicated a possible regal origin or a lot of money earned on the battlefields. His red gorget had particular workmanship with engravings in a runic language now known by only a few. This was another detail, noted by Godwin, who knew of the existence of this Nordic language, even though he was unable to read it or understand it. The unknown warrior approached the line of soldiers, all beautiful and standing tall in their white armour, staring at the stranger silently.

  "Are you with us, silent warrior of the north?" asked King Godwin with a steady voice.

  "It depends," the soldier replied in an echo without opening his helmet or prostrating himself.

  "And what would it depend on, unknown hero?" The Righteous was intrigued by the mysterious answer.

  "What do you have to offer, Lord of the South!" the Nordic warrior quickly asserted in an icy tone.

  "If you're a mercenary looking for dinars, go back down the road you came on!" Fulk shouted with marked contempt in his tone of voice.

  "I am not speaking to you, you have no power!" replied the unknown knight without even looking at the First Guard of Honour, who turned from him with disappointment.

  The restless Fulk had a peculiar tremor in his right eyelid, a typical manifestation of nervousness. His provocation was given bravely without fear or common sense. His steel blade flew through the air guided by the lightning-fast Fulk and hit the Nordic warrior, who was apparently caught off guard. The colossus quickly retreated to gain time. Then as quick as a cat he moved from retreat to furious attack like someone who only lived from one battle to the next. The unexpected move forced the Commander on his back foot, his sword blade running into the glove of singular design, belonging to the Nordic warrior. The sword got stuck in that strange invention, more like a hammer or a blacksmith's tool, than a normal gauntlet. It took only a second for the icy steel of the north to find the temple of the brave warrior of Terra. It touched and stayed there, without causing damage.

  "Do you, knight, offer to surrender?" the new arrival asked the first warrior to offer his services to the Lord of the South.

  Fulk proudly tried to free his blade from the grip of the gauntlet with all his might without giving an answer and considering, as a last chance, abandoning his sword and taking up another weapon. The Commander of Terra did just this, dodging the enemy hammer and unsheathing a second sword he carried on his belt. The two watched each other for a few moments. Then Fulk was the first to speak:

  "I admit, you are truly valiant and have a great heart in battle, mastodon!"

  "Thank you, Commander, I will take it as a compliment, if you want I will return your sword as a friend," replied the great man with the strange armour and heavy hammer.

  "I certainly revere that sword, but I will take it from the cold hands of your corpse!" the other answered arrogantly.

  During this virile demonstration of force, the soldiers on the square would have intervened if only Saxon had not ordered them to stay where they were. Godwin was also curious regarding the abilities of that warrior, and did not dismiss the idea of testing his strength: He seemed to float on the wind despite his size and weight. The champion from Terra was shocked once again by the unusual Nordic battle tactics. The nameless warrior pressed the Commander, this time without a weapon, but only with a powerful shove. He pushed so hard that his opponent lost contact with the ground for a moment, flying through the air. Fulk didn't realize the e
xtent of his flight until forced by gravity to return to the cold ground of the square. He was stretched out for the entire length of his body.

  "You've stumbled, Sire?" asked his monolithic adversary, bringing the hammer closer to Fulk's face, while striking with the second sword, sticking it into the ground.

  "Give me back at least my honour, knight, allow me rise before striking me or killing me!" The Commander of Terra shouted proud but despairing.

  To the shock of all those present including the King, intent on ordering the cessation of hostilities in the name of God, of the Emperor and of anyone else who could have a minimum of influence, the hammer withdrew.

  "I will not kill you, my friend, you are not my enemy. I had no wish to duel with you!" exclaimed the upstanding warrior. With gentle manners he extended his hand to his adversary with great sincerity.

  Fulk, a proud man, was wounded, not in his body but in his morale, refused help in a rudely. The colossal Nordic man opened his visor, revealing a sweaty face because of the effort, and with great anxiety he headed toward the Lord of the South, offering him a half bow. His face was young, marked by a scar, which carved a furrow from his upper lip to his left cheekbone. It showed signs of being poorly treated.

  "Let me introduce myself, my King!" exclaimed the young man with the scar, bowing again before the crowned heads, "I am called Gotthard Gotzson, son of Gottwald, Lord of Stahldorf. I go from city to city in search of glory! Can you promise me I will earn such a reward, my Lord?" the strange young man with an exuberant temperament asked.

  "Our way is fraught with trouble, my brave lad! I have no power to grant what I don't possess, but I can certainly guarantee you an abundance of enemies. Perhaps not the size of your hammer nor of a type that would appease your craving for blood," the Lord of the South responded by approaching the Prince of Stahldorf to inspect the singular gauntlets of his impressive armour. After inspecting and being astonished by such warlike ingenuity, King Godwin commented, "Prince Gotthard, we would certainly all be delighted to be able to count you among our ranks. If a tenth of your brother's strength flows through you, we will all be saved!"