With eyes boring into the man in front of him Ragmar replied, "You have the advantage. But I don't think you have more than one man out there who's sharp with a bow. I also don't think he has enough arrows for all my men...." Suddenly, the sound of arrows cut through the mist and two more men fell dead while a third screamed in pain as a black arrow pierced his shield to pass through his arm. The Aesir Chief now serious retorted, "That may be true, but so far your men either die or get crippled each time they meet with a black arrow."

     The Chief gave a loud whistle and from within the mist torches were lit. Within moments, dozens were lit and one of the raiders gasped, "We're surrounded!" Cocking his head the Chief took in the visage of the man he'd heard so much about from legend. The man was of similar age and had the look of someone with both the force of will and physical might to command a large territory. Alas, for the Aesir people to thrive and his ancestors to be born, everything must play out as the songs said it did. Now it was time to see how much the Vanir Chief would be willing to play his part.

     "Ragmar, son of Edlmir and Chieftain of the Vanir you seem like a smart man. My men surround yours and hold the high ground. You still have longships waiting to unload. We both know they won't be able to with all of you pinned down on the beach by spears and arrow fire. The odds are certain you and most of your men will be slaughtered right here on the beach. Slaughtered before any of my men get so much as a scratch." A black arrow ricocheted loudly off Ragmar's winged helm knocking it backwards on his head. Though the man hid it well, the Chief could tell the Vanir was unnerved. After a moment the Vanir Chief said, "So how do we settle this as warriors?"

     Smiling evilly once more the Aesir Chief replied, "Hmmm, I could but run you through and the song would end here and now. But, your people wouldn't take that well and there'd be endless bloodshed between our people. That would be a pain in the ass. So here's what we'll do; me and you will settle this as Chieftains. The loser and his people will submit to the winner whatever he demands. Period. The duel is lost if one of us yields, cannot physically continue, loses his sword and shield or is killed. Is that enough to satisfy your warrior spirit or shall I just run you through?"

     Looking at the red-skinned man Ragmar's eyes filled with excitement. “'Tis a fine bargain you make. It would be worth it just to have that bowman at my call! But would you have me give my oath with a sword at my neck?" The Chief lowered the sword and said, "Your oath on it." Ragmar stepped away from the Chief and looked to the expectant faces of his men. "You have my oath as a Chieftain." That said, Ragmar whirled drawing his sword and swung in a wide arc only to hit empty air.

     Three paces away, the Aesir Chief grinned and snapped, "You'll have to do better than that if you want a good drinking song to come from this!" Ragmar threw himself at this upstart who called himself a Chieftain and would take territory that was his by right. Using both sword and ironbound shield, Ragmar pressed the attack on the red-haired, red-skinned foreigner. Though the man only bore two swords, he held all of Ragmar's attacks at bay.

     Forcing a break by clashing together a winded Ragmar said, "I have waited many years to fight a warrior who was my equal! I'll have your name before I kill you." Unable to control a deep chuckle the Chief replied, "It's the least I can do to honor a dead man's last request. I am Svengald son of Sljandir and Chieftain of the Aesir." Doing his best to hold the clash Ragmar grunted, "Humph! Never heard of you or these Aesir you speak of. Your swordplay and faerie tales have made it worth staying up late for. After I mount your head over my longhouse door, I'll sing the song of my victory until I am old and gray!"

     The Chief laughed in Ragmar's face as he spun free of the clash. The sudden maneuver caused the Vanir to fall forward and as he tried to recover, he felt the cold sting of a sword slicing his fur and boiled leather armored back. Fortunately, his armor held and he spun round to face the red-skinned Svengald. Ragmar's men were chanting his name and combined with the pain, his blood boiled like it did twenty years agone. Charging forth, Ragmar unleashed a flurry of sword and shield strikes that had brought every opponent he faced to their end.

     Yet this Svengald with his two swords, parried or evaded every strike without pressing an attack. Ragmar doubled his efforts in order to break through the unnatural defense put forth by who was turning out to be his greatest opponent. Little by little, Ragmar's own defenses began to slip. Each time it did, the red-skinned Svengald made him pay for it. Soon the weight of his years of facing far lesser opponents began to take its toll.

     The red demon before him bore no major wound from his numerous attacks and despite the glistening sheen of sweat on his bare arms, he looked no worse than when they began. Desperate, the Vanir fell to a kneeling position allowing his shield to dig into the gravel. The red warrior fell for the faint and Ragmar flung a hail of gravel into the face of his opponent!

     The Chief had grown over-confident in this contest with the Vanir. After his adventure with the God Qatula, a literal 'duel' with Death and sparring matches with the Valley Knight, formidable a warrior Ragmar was he couldn't compare. But the pelting spray of gravel was a tried and true tactic and the one thing Svengald future Chieftain of the Aesir knew best was fighting dirty. Instead of the usual reaction of stopping to clear his eyes, the Chief dove forward!

     As Ragmar started forward to take advantage of his blinded opponent, he drew breath and raised his sword for a killing stroke. Much to his chagrin, the red-skinned warrior dove forward catching him with both sword and shield out of range for attack or defense! With a shock of powerful muscle and bone, Ragmar felt the wind fly from his lungs and his feet leave the ground. His sword and shield were flung from his grasp as he tumbled down the steep gravel shore.

     Ragmar's men watched stunned as their formerly undefeated leader plunged headlong into the chill night blackened water. Never had they seen such a duel! This red-headed stranger with skin of those from the far south had outmatched the great Chieftain of all the Vanir tribes. What impressed the Vanir raiders most was how obvious the ease with which the stranger could have killed Ragmar.

     The Chief looked out among the faces of his enemies and awaited their reaction. As a rule, most warriors don't take it well watching their chieftains get bested in duels, particularly one with such high stakes. The sound of a sword struck flatside against a shield cut through the thick silence. Another followed and then all the raiders struck their shields chanting, SVENGALD! SVENGALD! SVENGALD!

     Bursting through the surface of the water, Ragmar could not believe what had just happened. Whoever this Svengald was, he'd given Ragmar the match of a lifetime so far! Now that he understood the strength of who he fought, this match was far from over.... Ragmar suddenly realized the voices cheering his opponent were his own men! Whatever chill he felt from the cold water was quelled in the fire of his outrage.

     "What in the bowels of Niffelheim is this?" The cheering died down and Ragmar's opponent looked down on him from the steep shore. "You fought well Ragmar son of Edlmir Chieftain of the Vanir, but you have lost. Now with your oath given, will you honor our wager?"

     Ragmar wiped the wet blonde strands of hair from his face and chuckled in disbelief. "What madness are you blathering about? I haven't lost! I fell and got a dunking is all. You got a couple of good cuts in, but I'm still ready to fight! You haven't beaten me yet. I'm Ragmar, Chieftain of all the Vanir Tribes. No man has ever beaten me!"

     Chief Svengald felt a tremendous surge of pride at hearing his name chanted with respect from the warriors of legend. Just as he remembered in the songs, Ragmar was true to the legends as being a petty man who would not accept an honorable defeat. The Chief realized for things to go on their intended path, he must play out the final part in the songs. "So after being felled in an honorable duel and having lost both sword and shield, you do not intend to hold true to the terms of our wager?"

     Incensed Ragmar bellowed, "By the Norns I'd spend eternity in Niffelheim before I admit defeat after getting knocked down by a red-skinned son of a thousand fathers like you!" Pointing to the closest raider Ragmar commanded, "Give me your sword and shield and I'll show this red-haired dog this is not over!" To Ragmar's dismay, the raider didn't respond. Neither did the next nor any other despite vile curses and vicious threats.

     The Chief had heard enough. Speaking to the assembled raiders the Chief said in measured tones, "You all have heard his oath broken. A chieftain who will not keep his word after its given, is no leader of men!" Turning back to Ragmar who was still chest-deep in the chill water the Chief said, "You would rather spend eternity in Niffelheim? I can think of a much worse place than that. Little Fish!" All the Vanir raiders assembled on shore and still in the waiting longships gave a collective gasp of fright as strange multi-colored light suddenly illuminated the water behind Ragmar.

     Oblivious to what his men were going on about, the Vanir stepped forward towards the shore. He would show his men this fight was by no means over.... In taking that step, Ragmar's foot made no contact with the gravel covered bottom. Suddenly, there was no bottom his feet could reach though it had been there an instant before!

     Just as the Vanir started to struggle, there was multi-colored light all around him coming from below the surface. Being a strong swimmer, Ragmar quickly got himself under control and then what looked to be a black-skinned water demon burst from below and embraced him hard about the head and neck!

     All on shore and within the longships stared wide-eyed as something burst up from the illuminated water and dragged Ragmar below. Soon after the light faded, the waters calmed and neither Ragmar nor that which had dragged him under resurfaced.

     "Thus was the end of Ragmar, 'Oathbreaker'. Never shall he reach the halls of Valhalla for he shall be as he wished, lost for all eternity without sword in hand nor honor in his words." The Chief gave the raiders a moment to absorb what they had seen and heard then asked, “Who among you will not honor the terms of the wager? Speak now!"

     Any raider who hadn't been convinced by the fate of their former chief need only look to the dozens of torches born by warriors within the mists who  surrounded the shore and held the high ground. With Ragmar taken to Niffelheim and his second felled by a deadly bowman, the third ranked raider stepped forward and sheathed his sword. "I Sundarrson third man to Ragmar will honor the wager in his place. Does any man challenge this?" With no voice raised in objection, Sudarrson dropped to one knee then looked to the Chief and stoically asked, "What are the terms given by you the victor?"

     The Chief allowed the Vanir raiders several long moments to stew in their fears while he made no outward sign. Right when he felt they could no longer stand the suspense he replied, "Sundarsson and all here stand witness and will abide by the terms of the wager lost by Ragmar and now honored by his third man. First, ten Vanir men and women each of prime age and good health will be brought here in good faith to become the husbands and wives of those who will accept them.

     Second, for no less than ten consecutive years the Vanir will bring tribute of food and tradeable goods of high quality at this time of year. Third, during the bringing of tribute the settlers will share whatever bounty is available in a feast to mark this day. Fourth, a contest celebrating this night will be held at this same time by which one man of the settlers and one of the Vanir will duel for a prize put up by the losers of the previous year. To not honor this agreement will bring great misfortune." The Chief pointed to the calm dark waters to make his point.

     Sundarrson extended his empty sword hand and said, "The terms will be honored Svengald son of Sljandir Chieftain of the Aesir." Clasping the man's wrist the Chief smiled and returned the firm grip. From the songs he knew this man would take Ragmar's place. "You are a wise man Sundarsson. Long may our tribes prosper." As the Chief watched the raiders leave, he thought about things to come.

     When the longships faded into the dawn colored mists, the settlers gathered on the beach around the Chief, the Valley Knight and young Little Fish. Holding Mjarga's hand, Utsgald made their way through the crowd. Standing before the Chief the settler's leader said with tears staining smoke grimed cheeks, "We owe you our lives. There is not much to give you, but you are welcome to whatever we have! Take a woman and land. Live among us as our chieftain."

     The Chief's eyes caught those of several young women but he quickly dismissed the idea. Placing a hand on Utsgald's shoulder the Chief replied, "What, me take over a nameless gaggle of settlers? There's no need for they already have a wise leader in you Utsgald. It was your idea to stake and light every torch you had. The Vanir fell for the ruse thinking we had a greater number of men than they. You will be a fine Chieftain yourself, I'm sure of it."

     Utsgald grasped the Chief's wrist and squeezed hard in expression of his gratitude. "There must be something we can do in payment for what you've done for us? Name it!" His face now serious the Chief responded, "Keep the land, but your strength will come from your mastery of the fjords and sea. Use the knowledge of the Vanir to learn and grow strong. Your wife will bear a son. Name him Egmun and teach him what you learn from the Vanir. Do this and good fortune will follow.

     Looking down at young Mjarga the Chief patted her dirty face and said, "In time, you will come to value the council of this pretty girl. I will take my leave, but I promise you Mjarga we will meet again for the first time." Yawning, the tired girl said, "Remember, you promised!" She then looked at Little Fish and stuck out her tongue. Before Little Fish could respond, the Knight clapped a calloused hand over the boy's mouth and said, "Chief, it's time to go"

     The Chief turned back to Utsgald and placed a palm-sized bundle in his hand and said, "When she becomes of age, give this to Mjarga and no one else. Do not undo the bundle for it is a gift for my men and anyone who will accompany them to find me when they return to this land. Keep it hidden until then." Unsure of what it meant, but determined to comply, Utsgald said, "All shall be done as you command Chieftain of the Aesir."

     The settlers gathered round the pond and watched in awe as the Chief and his demon companions slipped beneath the calm waters. Utsgald gave Mjarga a pat on the rump and said, "I wonder where his people the Aesir are?" With certainty, the young girl replied, "We are right here." Utsgald turned to follow the settlers back to their homes. They had much to do for soon they would have new people coming from the Vanir lands to live here. In the meantime, it was almost time for another new arrival to join his settlement.

     According to the Red Chieftain, a son would be born. 'Egmun' was a fine name for a boy. Utsgald turned back to see Mjarga still standing by the pond. "Mjarga, don't stay too long. Your new brother will be with us soon!" Mjarga could not hear her adopted father for she was talking to someone else. Looking down into the still water the little girl said, "Thank you for sending them to help us. I will keep my promise, I will!  Thank you great lady!" With a great beaming smile, Mjarga turned and ran to catch up with her adopted father.

To be continued....

Go to Part 3

© 2011 H. Wolfgang Porter. All Rights Reserved.

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