Chapter Two

CHAPTER 2

Under Viking duelling rules combatants were allowed to have a second to aid them. It was the second who had charge of the shield and it was their job to protect the dueller, who was armed only with a sword.. The shields were made of wood, round in shape with a leather hand grip. On the outside of the shield was a domed iron boss to protect the hand.

A piece of cloth, about two metres square, was laid on the ground and pegged in place, and ditches dug around three sides of the cloth. Four hazel wood posts placed at the corners completed the duelling field.

The villagers stood round in a circle and the two boys stood on the cloth, facing each other. Both Ulf and Eric knew the correct fighting position. They had been taught how to stay balanced so they could move easily and were trained in sword craft. They each held their sword with the correct grip, not too tight or too loose to allow the sword to move efficiently in the hand.

“You shall fight until first blood!” called Eithne.

She held up a hand and dropped it to signify the start of the duel.

“Begin!”

The two boys slowly circled. They both knew the rules. Vikings didn’t kill their enemies, they only wounded them, but sometimes the wound was fatal. Ulf held his sword by his leg which made it harder to see, but Eric had luck on his side. On this occasion it was an advantage to be short. He could tell which move Ulf would use, a low rising cut, and as the sword came up, the shield was swung into place and Eric stepped out of the way.

Eric swung his sword and Ulf’s second swung the shield up to stop it. Ulf twisted around and held his sword up, aimed directly at Eric’s face, ready to thrust. Being small, Eric ducked under it. He swung his own sword only to have it blocked again. Ulf swung his sword up above Eric’s head but he misjudged the move and lost his balance. He stumbled but managed to stay on his feet..

Eric brought his sword up suddenly, too quickly for the shield bearer to react. The sword jabbed into Ulf’s ribs. He yelled loudly, clutching at his side where the thrust had caught him.

When he took his hand away it was bloody, just a scratch, but enough for a few drops of blood to fall onto the cloth, a signal that the duel was over.

“The duel is ended” said Eithne. “Eric Ivarrson is the winner!”

Everybody cheered and crowded around the boys. Eithne inspected her son's wound. He would soon heal, and maybe learn a lesson or two. Then she turned back to the matter at hand.

“There is much to prepare”, Ragna told Eric. “You will need supplies, a horse…..”

She paused and looked Eric up and down.

“You can ride I take it?” she asked.

“I may be small, but I can ride as well as any man” said Eric.

“You certainly know how to fight” mumbled Ragna.

She shuffled on again, Eithne and Eric following the wise woman to her hut. It was almost dark inside, lit only by the firelight. Ragna began looking for something, talking all the while she searched.

“You’ll need a sword, a shield, and a battle axe. Can you hold an axe? Put your arm up.”

Eric did as he was told and flinched as Ragna gripped his arm, somewhat surprised at the strength of the old woman,

“You’ll do” she said. “Armour. He’ll need armour, Eithne,”

“I have already ordered everything he needs”, said Eithne. “It is being prepared as we speak.”

The wise woman nodded her approval. She picked up a plant from the table and turned to Eric.

“Pay close attention lad”. “This is huonn. The plant I need is another type, slightly different. It grows only on the banks of a far off river.”

Eric looked at the plant. It had a round head of little white flowers.

“The plant you seek grows as tall as a man but the flowers are pink not white” Ragna told him.

“Where is the river?” Eric asked.

“Beyond the Vesteigen Mountain”, said Ragna. “Listen carefully.”

As she began to explain the route he must take, Eric folded his arms and leaned against the wall.

“You must travel north, across the sea. You’ll need a boat. Beg, steal , or borrow, the choice is yours”

Eric looked shocked. Stealing from another Viking was bad, and he was being told to do so by a wise woman! It was OK to steal things on a raid; then it was called looting.

“I could make a raft” he suggested.

Ragna looked at him sternly.

“You will fail with a raft. It is said that a sea serpent lives in those waters so be on your guard. Go up the Gotefjord as far as you can.”

Eric knew the Gotefjord. He had been there before on a fishing trip with his father. The Gotefjord was narrow and very, deep formed long ago by a river flowing to the sea. Steep mountains rose to the sky on each side.

“From the Gotefjord make your way north-west over the Vesteigen Mountain. Beware Eric Ivarrson” the wise woman warned. “The journey is long and perilous. There are tales of beings who reside in those mountains, beings unknown to mortal man!”

“So, I cross the sea”, said Eric, “and go up the Gotefjord. Then I go over the Vesteigen Mountain.”

“Correct”, said Ragna. Her few teeth gleamed eerily in the fireligh. "On the other side there is a valley, where you will find the plant growing on the banks of the river.” Ragna placed a bony hand on Eric’s shoulder and looked straight into his eyes. “This is very important!” she said. “Be sure to dig up the whole plant. But be wary. The leaves are poisonous. I need only the roots. Do you understand what you have to do?”

Her eyes held Eric’s. Locked in their gaze he could only nod. Eric was beginning to feel scared. What was he taking on? Would he be able to do it on his own?

Eric left the Wise Woman's hut and went home to say goodbye to his mother, Svanhhilde. He found her kneeling beside his brother bathing his feverish face with cool water. Ivarr was very ill and when Eric bent oven him Ivarr did not stir.

“Is he any better?” asked Eric.

Swanhilde shook her head as Ivarr’s body shook suddenly with a violent coughing fit. His mother’s eyes filled with tears.

“I think he’s worse”, she said. She stood up and hugged Eric.

“You are very brave” she told him. “Your father would be so proud of you.”

“Some one has to go”, Eric answered, looking at Ivarr sadly.

“Good luck my son”, said his mother. She kissed him. “May Odin go with you”.

“Goodbye Mother”, Eric said. “I’ll bring back the medicine for Ivarr. For you all!”

“I hope it’s not too late!” said his mother.

“So do I!”

Svanhilde nodded. She could not speak, and dabbed at her eyes with her shawl.

Eric left the house. He swallowed hard and brushed his sleeve across his eyes. Then he squared his shoulders. There was one more person he had to see.

He found Ulf at the edge of the village practising his skill with the bow and arrow. He drew the bow carefully, took aim, and shot at a nearby tree.

“What do you want?” Ulf asked, not bothering to turn around.

“I came to say goodbye”, Eric replied.

“Go on then. Get lost” Ulf ordered him.

He turned then, his bow raised, an arrow nocked and ready to fire.

“The quest should be mine!” he shouted. “I’m the chieftain’s son! Who are you? The stunted son of a farmer!”

Eric carefully took a step back, ready to flee. His small belt knife was not much defence against a bow.

“There’s only one reason my father took yours raiding” Ulf sneered. “He needed someone to clean up after his horse!”

Eric let it pass. He was used to having insults thrown at him, and he knew that words could not hurt him.

“I’m not going to argue with you Ulf”, he said. “I won the duel fair and square. I thought you might wish me luck, but I guess I was wrong.”

Before Ulf could think of more insults, Eric had walked quickly away.

Reviews

[Isemay]

One thing stuck out to me: "were practices in sword craft. " - Should possibly be "were practiced in sword craft." or swordsmanship may sound better.

I'm looking forward to the quest!

[Alice]

Sorry. That was a typing error. I originally wrote this some years ago when my daughter was in school.