Bothvar Beorcolsson
Shimmering eyes are as blue as the deep sea that seem to glow even when there is no light. Golden hair that shines brighter than the sun. She’s a pure goddess with a touch as warm as a hearth of a burning flame. The way she looks at me is of pure love and devotion. The sun slowly peeks through our balcony as she snuggles up in my arms, kissing me softly. She’s my beautiful wife, my love, my heart. I would give her all the realms even if it cost me everything else. She’s everything to me. Her kisses give me life. They are what fill me with purpose. She’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted in life, beautiful children and her love most of all. With it, I feel like I can take on anyone. Not even giants are a match for my hammer because her love gives me the strength to defeat them all. Even the storms will bow before me when I have the heart of such a strong woman. With her by my side, there are no impossibilities.
I open my eyes and see nothing but the dark cave, feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt without Arngunn’s deep blue eyes to look into. It was only a dream, but it felt so… real. That woman, I know it was Arni… She shared the same face. The same smile. Why do my own dreams give me hope only to take it away when I awaken? What could’ve happened if I had only stayed home? If I had just let go of my hate. My need for revenge. Would she still be here? Would our son grow old? Would we have had more children? These thoughts haunt me. The strange thing is it felt more like a memory than a dream. It felt like I lived it. How could that be? Could be what is to come when I reunite with her in the halls of the gods? I must earn my worthiness so I can make that my fate.
The morning came, and I met with my father’s friends at the gates. They followed me up the mountain to the cave where the others trained. Einar wasn’t too keen on taking orders from Aldam and being put to work. Koll and Throst didn’t complain, however.
While Aldam pushed them to their limits, he fashioned thin bracelets for them all to wear. That’s when I noticed his hammer is made out of the glow metal as well. Not the same hammer he went to battle with, but a simple blacksmith’s hammer.
I left them to Aldam to fetch my siblings and Thora. It is time she learns to truly fight and grow strong. If my brother and I knew of this type of training, who knows how things could’ve gone.
I meet with my father, who’s overseeing the construction of our harbor, pulling him away from any ears that might get back to my mother. “I am going to train Bodvar, Svala, and Thora.”
He shakes his head. “As much as I’d like to, your mother will not agree.”
“If Thorkel and I trained at their age, do you not think things would’ve gone differently? Maybe Thorkel might still be alive. Maybe our wives and children would still be here,” I say.
He scratches his beard as he turns to look over the town. “You may be right. I’ll talk to your mother. In the meantime, take Bodvar and Thormar up to train.”
“I will take Thora. She’s my responsibility,” I say with no room for argument.
“Your mother won’t see it that way,” he says.
“You have to make her see it. Thora will not be weak like Thorkel and I were.”
“My son, you think strength comes from the body?” father asks, his eyes meeting mine.
“Where else does it come from?” I ask.
He places his hand on my shoulder. “You need a strong mind and a strong heart before you could ever have a strong body. Strength comes from your will and your heart. Make them strong and your body will be strong as well. I’m surprised you don’t know that seeing how strong you’ve become.”
“You’ve always been wise, father.”
He nods. “Now, take your siblings and show them the way.”
I nod and walk away to find my brothers inside the hall, pelting Thon with a thousand questions. Thormar beams with utter excitement. “Is it true that banshees exist?”
Thon nods. “They’re spirits of the dead who come to herald their descendants.”
“Have you killed one before?” Bodvar asks, his eyes lighting up.
“Can you kill the dead?” Thon asks.
“I don’t know. Can’t you just bash ’em?” Bodvar asks.
“Bodvar, don’t be a complete and utter fool. You can’t just bash a Banshee, they’re a corporeal spirit. Physical weapons won’t work on them. Or so I’ve heard,” Thormar says.
Bodvar turns and gives him a good kick in the shin. “Don’t call me a fool! I’m not a fool.”
“You bloody bastard! What was that for?” Thormar hisses as he practically jumps up and down on one leg while rubbing his shin. I can only snicker. These two will never change.
“Banshees aren’t necessarily evil and you’re right, you can’t just bash a spirit. It takes magic to kill them, but I wouldn’t kill a banshee, for they only seek to protect their descendants. It is those who they warn of that need killing,” Thon says.
“Alright, you two. Stop annoying our honored guest and come with me. I’ve got work for you,” I say, grabbing them by the collars of their tunics and dragging them away.
“Hey! I’ve got loads more questions,” Thormar says, struggling.
“Father’s orders,” I say.
They grumble and complain as they follow me out the side gate that, oddly enough, doesn’t have a scratch on it compared to a few paces down where the entire wall has been destroyed. We make our way up the mountain again.
“What are we doing?” Thormar asks.
“You’ll see,” I say.
“Will mother be mad that we’re going into the mountains?” Thormar asks.
“No questions. Just come,” I say.
“Will we get to fight a bear? I heard you fought a bear and killed it. I could take one on,” Bodvar says.
I turn and eye him. The boy is hardly big enough to fight a hare. I turn back and continue on. “You’d make an excellent supper for a bear.”
“I would not. The bear would be my supper.” He puffs his chest out. I don’t doubt he’d try to fight a bear. Bodvar has always been fearless. I think he must’ve been born a few ore men short of a full boat. Stupid boy.
We head down the path and arrive at the cave where the others work hard. Solmund, Griotgard, and Skardi are making good progress. They’ve got the wristbands on and are out in the cave swinging pickaxes. Koll, Einar, and Throst are still working with the pebble. Aldam continues to pound his anvil, making more materials for the village. He looks up at me. “Boy, if you go back down to the village, take these fools with you and have them carry down the nails and get more iron. I don’t have a lot left, so you’ll have to go out prospecting.”
I nod. “I already know where some veins are and coal as well.”
Aldam smiles with a hint of pride. “Good lad. I figured as much. You spent a whole winter up here. I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“Here’s these two more, put ’em to work. Come on, you three. Let’s head back. I need to convince my mother to let Thora and Svala train up here,” I say.
The three of them look ready to collapse. Griotgard bends over and rests his hands on his knees, heaving for air. “Strike me dead and send me to Niflheim. It could be no worse than how I feel now. I need a quick breather. How did you do it, Bothvar? I can barely move.”
“Come on brother, you’re acting like a Southerner,” Solmund says before he nearly stumbles over.
Skardi is drenched in sweat and teeters back and forth. I can’t help but smirk. My time here was far different and more of a war than work. I nod towards the cave. “Get some cave water that has the glow rocks in it and eat a mushroom or two and you’ll feel better.”
The three stumble over to the cave. Aldam gives my brothers both a little pebble. Or at least sets it on the ground for them to pick it up. Neither of them succeeds at it. Aldam only smirks. “You boys are weaker than a rotten board. Now go in there and drink the water and eat a shroom. We’re going to need to find another cave at the rate we’re going.”
“Well, hopefully after I fetch Svala and Thora, it’ll be it for now. I suppose after Koll, Einar, and Throst finish, their children will be next. Then our crews after that. We need to be careful who we train. The wrong people could be truly devastating. Especially Grom, Thrain Haklangsson, and their lot.”
“Aye, you see the dilemma now, don’t you? The more people who have this strength, the less of an advantage it becomes. That’s why the dwarves hoarded it for so long. Our Iron Mountains are full of this metal and the shrooms with large caverns of pools glowing with it along with. However, only those who’re deemed worthy can mine it and gain its strength. Being the brother clan of the royal line of succession gave my clan access to it. But not all dwarves get it. You can tell who the royal line considers worthy by who shares our iron skin. That’s how the Ironhammer’s got their name. Of course, when your lot arrived, or I suppose the southern lot, we helped them because they were the enemy of our enemy, the Wood Elves.”
“What did you mean when we arrived? Or the Southerners? Where did we come from?” I ask.
“Goat’s blood, boy. Do you not know where you come from?” Aldam asks.
“I heard we’re not from this land, but our home has been long forgotten. We don’t know much beyond our ancestor, King Bjorn the first king. They say he was the first to arrive with an army of settlers. Of course, they also discovered that humans, as you call us, were already here. The southern Saxons and the ones south of them. But later did we realize they were different from the people south of them. The Tyrants. King Vandil’s people who worship different gods.”
“Well, I don’t know much about the Saxons, as you call them. But I know Vandil’s line. It was his ancestor, King Alexander, the first great king who arrived here. He brought an army and made the mistake we dwarves made when we left the mountains for the first time.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“They started chopping trees down. The elves don’t like that, bunch of tree huggers, the lot of them. They think Trees are alive and the pointy-eared bastards think they can talk to ’em or something. A crazy bunch of bush fuckers, if you ask me. But to them, chopping a tree down is a reason for war. That’s how our war began with them. And that’s how King Alexander and his men got themselves mixed into it. They weren’t a strong lot. Rather weak at the time. This was a couple of hundred cycles ago or more. I was but a wee lad at the time.”
My jaw drops. “How old are you?”
The dwarf counts on his fingers. “Let’s see. I was born only a few cycles after my cousin Nesley was born. It was oh… about 1104 Dragon time. What cycle is it today?”
“What are you talking about? What is Dragon time?” I ask.
“For the love of the gods, boy, how do you not know what dragon time is?” Aldam asks, holding his hands up in frustration.
“For us, it’s the 272nd summer since we have arrived here. Give or take a cycle. The wise one keeps track of these things. To most it is not important,” I say.
“Well, Dragon, time started when the Dragons arrived and formed the world into their image. Of course, they weren’t the first ones here you see. The Gronns and the Giant Titans were fighting over the land before the Dragons arrived. Neither could stand against the Dragons though. The Dragon Lords are gods in their own right and killed many of the Gronns and Giants. Of course, the elves will tell you this Lady of the Forest of theirs came and made peace between them, breaking the land into many different lands scattered throughout the seas. But that’s just what the elves say. They worship this forest lady as if she were Hreitharr himself. But she ain’t no builder god. She’s some witch, if you ask me. However, it’s said that she made the elves and the orcs. Or at least the elves we have today. They used to be little savages who were shorter than us dwarves who huddled in small tribes throughout the forests. Cowering from the Dragons, Gronns, and Giants. But then she made four elves out of them. Their names are Deker, Alluin, Syphire, and Saria. Two boys and two girls. And made orcs out of Gronns. Two orcs. Sharogg and Barathogg. Maybe she mated with them, I don’t know. But dragon time began when the Dragons first came here.”
“How do you know when they came?” I ask.
“The dragons told us,” he says as if that were obvious.
“You spoke with the dragons?” I ask.
“Well, not me personally, but my ancestors did. I have only seen one dragon in my entire lifetime. It was large enough to black out the sun. You do not want to meet one of them. They are smart and cunning, but they’d sooner eat you for breakfast than tolerate your presence. We’re just but mere mortals to them,” he says.
“Huh…” I say scratching my head. This is a lot to know. Griotgard, Solmund, and Skardi walk out of the cave. “Well, let’s get to it then. Come on, you three.”
They seem to have recovered some. The water and shrooms really are something else. They take turns pushing the cart down the mountain as we head back to town.
Once we arrive, I split off from them to find my father. He’s in the hall talking to my mother. They’re with the leaders of the Valkyrie tribe and the Builder tribe. Among them are Dasyra Ragnarsdóttir, Amalgunda, and Amalasontha, along with the old chief of the Builders Trefor Treharne, and his head carpenter, Aethelwin. Thon also sits in the corner. This time, Svala and Thora pester him.
The three Valkyrie leaders give me a nod in recognition. I return it with respect. “These giants will return. We need to prepare for them and have a plan of action when the time comes,” my father says.
“That we can agree upon,” Dasyra says. I still can’t believe she is the Valkyrie’s matriarch. She looks far younger than Amalasontha and Amalgunda and yet they refer to her lead. It’s not that Amalasontha and Amalgunda are old. They’re not young either. About the same age as my mother even. “We’ll need to strengthen our walls.”
“I’d suggest adding ballistas throughout your walls,” Aethelwin says. “We can come to some agreement by installing them.”
“Yes, that would make the giants think twice,” father says with a nod.
I step forward. “May I make a suggestion?”
“Your advice is always welcomed, Bothvar Beorcolsson, friend of the yeti and bone breaker,” Amalasontha says, but the smile she wears is one of sadness. Bone breaker? I never heard that title before. The other doesn’t surprise me. However, mother and father seem to look at me with curious expressions.
“I think we should train our warriors on how to fight these giants. Shield walls and the other tactics we use against the Southerners and the elves will not work. They can break the shield wall as easily as a twig.”
“Do you have any suggestions on how to fight them?” Dasyra asks.
“We need to fight like wasps and swarm them. Chop at their feet and bring them down to their knees so we can take their heads or go for their hearts. That worked well, even though it might take four or five men for each giant,” I say.
“That is good for fighting them one at a time, but what if they match our numbers?” Amalasontha asks.
“If we can make walls strong enough to withstand their attacks, we can drive them into a narrow passageway to force them to fight us one at a time,” my father says.
“Might I add a suggestion?” Aethelwin asks. Everyone nods. “What if we make crossbows with rope attached to bind their arms and legs? Or even rope with weights attached to snare their wrists.”
“It’d take several people to restrain them. A giant can pick up even the largest of our men as easy as picking up a stick,” my father says.
“We need spell swords like Thon. He was the most effective against them,” I say.
They all look over at the spell sword, who meets their gaze. “I cannot stay. In fact, I’ve stayed too long. I should be on my way. I have my own journey.”
“Very well, then we shall reward you for your aid, friend,” father says as he shows Thon his treasure. “Take what you think is worth your service.”
Thon looks over the treasure, and he picks up a glowing orb. “You have a shielding orb? You’ll want to keep this on your ships. It’ll shield your ships from magic. You’ll need it more than I will.”
He sets the orb down. Then looks at a particular, rather ugly, necklace and meets my father’s gaze. “This will suffice.”
“Thank you again, for all your service. If you’re ever in the North, you’re always welcome here at Stormfront.” My father holds out his hand and Thon takes it in a shake, nodding.
I walk over to him and hold out my own hand. “It was an honor to fight alongside such a warrior as yourself.”
“I say the same, Bothvar, Giant Slayer.” He shakes my hand and nods.
I laugh. “If I am the Giant slayer, then you are the bane of them.”
“Then so shall it be. From now on, Bothvar will be known as Giant Slayer and Thon will be known as Giantsbane,” Sigvor says. He nods once more before he turns and walks away.
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