Vollsanger had arrived fairly late, and been welcomed to the fire after an initial challenge. The lute clearly slung over his back and the long walking staff providing a well known silhouette for many in the region. His long hair (platinum blond not white as he would be quick to remind you) and the distinctive head band with the wolf calling at the moon... Yes a Bard was often welcome at the fire and food and mead had been exchanged...
"A Tale, Bard!! Give us a tale !!! "
It was a common cry after a meal, and the group settled down.
"Tell us of Thorvald" called one ... a popular story. Everyone likes stories of heros.
"Ahh... " mused Vollsanger "Thorvald!! Of course, He was not always a hero !!"
The statement caused consternation around the fire, as the old Bard knew it would....
"I will tell you of The Humiliation of Thorvald - Or "the man who would not lie down and die"...
It is rare to hear a story of Thorvald that does not include his successes, his prowess, and his heroic exploits…. Even in his later years when Bards tell of his haunted flight from shades beyond the grave, we only hear of strength and honour….
But the rarest tale of Thorvald goes back to his earliest days .. and few are the skalds who can recite the ley of the “man who would not lie down and die…” for Thorvald himself made sure that few knew of his early days, and he, Champion of Norsca, Scorner of Magics, Scourge of Albion never spoke of the days of his youth…But I, Vollsanger, Skald of the Mountains, teacher of the Oral Lore, confidante of heroes, heard this story many moons ago, told to me by the descendant of a lady who nursed him back to health – I deem she loved him well so I have no reason to believe that there is any falseness in the telling… Though they have never been writ at large… there be no Morkinskinner in my words…. So set your mead, and listen, and perhaps you will live to tell your children of those who made Norsca great…
Thorvald was an impetuous lad … full 16 summers and sure that he was a man …
He had grown fast and true, he was strong in arm and fair in countenance, fleet of foot and many a local lad had found himself at the wrong end of his fists for teasing him about his fiery red hair….
But Thorvald was restless and wanted to prove himself in battle…
He practiced with his weapons – but did not distinguish himself as a scholar – his tutors threw up their arms in exasperation as he failed in his writings, and mages and shamans declared that they had never found any Norscan so incapable of managing the powers that surround all creatures.
But Thorvald did not care.. he knew that his destiny lay in battle - not in study.
Daily he would try to find a warleader that would take him into his host – and he knew that in time he would be the greatest warrior of Norsca …
But daily he was rejected, as being too young, too untried, and told to “wait till you are full grown” …
Until Thorvald found Uthgar by the docks one day .. and hearing that Uthgar was short of men for an attack upon the Albion Shores – presented himself before that Captain of Men …. Now it is true that Uthgar was past his prime in age, and many did say that he was a little too fond of his mead, and there are few to lay testimony to times where his judgement was sound, and it is rumoured that his eyesight was not as keen as an eagle – more akin to the mole which scrabbles through the ground… and it is said that Uthgar had misgivings about taking this young lad into his warhost and setting him as part of his crew… But Thorvald swore that he was a full man of 21 years, had battled many times in the past and offered to best Uthgar’s finest warrior with an axe as test of his strength…
Well, be it right or wrong, Uthgar was in need of men and short in his pocket and needed a successful raid of the Albion shore – so he took Thorvald into his crew and told him to be ready for the early tide the next day…
Thorvald was overjoyed, but was not one to brag… He returned to his room and spent an hour sharpening the blade on his axe.. before sauntering out into the night… He thought himself a man .. and with the prospect of the morning tide taking him away – he sought out Lifa Jorrrensdottir, a lass as fair as the spring, and left at dawn knowing himself to be a full Norscan Man…
Thorvald was not well accepted by the crew – they were old and set in their ways and unwilling to accept the young upstart who claimed to be a warrior but looked like a child, and many a day at sea was spent as Thorvald fought with bullies and tried to keep himself to himself … knowing his day would come….
The Albion shore came to view and Uthgard prepared to land at Sheer’s End
Rumour had it that this area of Albion was well held by a local Albion Lord – who was well versed in battle and magics… but Uthgard had little fear – he was well schooled in the art of pillage and had a crew which had many of the forces of the land at their beck and call … Thorvald stood on the deck with his axe in his hand…
Dawn came .. and Uthgard led his band ashore .. into the morning mists and filed towards the settlement – which was hardly astir, sleepy in their ignorance…
But unbeknown to Uthgard – the sails of his drakkar - dragon ship - had been sighted by the keen eyes of an Albion lookout – high on the hill tops – and even now Lord Albion rode towards them with a full band of his militia… descending upon the Norscans – and Uthgard – in his arrogance had not even put out skirmishers to check the land ….
As Uthgard and his men entered the town square – Thorvald cried to Uthgard “ It is too quiet – it is a trap” but Uthgard would have none of it and cuffed the young red haired lad around the ears saying “Fear not little one… It is only the anxiousness of battle that affects you .. “ We are the masters here – and soon we will be masters of their gold and jewels and their monastery will be burning …”
But as the words left his lips – the early morning mists lifted and Uthgard and his small band found themselves surrounded by Albion forces .. well armed, confidant and supported by priests and wise men……
“Let me at them “ Cried Thorvald – lifting his Axe .. but Uthgard said “ No!!!. Our wielders of power will defeat these …” An he commanded his magic wielders forward…
Great was the battle that ensued… Fireballs rent the air, and bolts of sheer terror ripped the air - men were struck down on both sides – but slowly it became clear that Uthgar and his men were outmatched ….
“Let me at them “ Cried Thorvald – I will cleave their heads from their shoulders .. but around him the men of Uthgar were falling - and Uthgar held onto him as if to keep a shield between himself and the enemy …
Struggling from Uthgar – Thorvald lifted his axe – and found that he was faced with an Albion Mage who muttered incantations and he found his axe ripped from his hand and saw it soar over the heads of the enemy – almost slow enough to catch – but out of his reach …
Lord Albion reached out with his sword and struck Thorvald upon the head with the hilt and all became darkness…
Thorvald woke.. he knew not how long he had been unconscious….. but as he regained consciousness – he saw about him that his comrades had all been slain – in horrific ways….
Uthgar lay by his side ….
He knew not why he was still alive… but groggily he raised his head to see his tormentor…
“And now we test you with the test of Albion “ said his captor…. And brought out two potions in small vials and placed them in front of the two …
One is poison – one has no affect .. Choose life or death !!”
Uthgar – anxious in his pain to ensure that the youngster could not steal his right to life – grabbed for the nearest vial and downed it in one ….. sadly – he retched and fell to the ground … Thorvald looked Albion in the eyes – daring him to be a liar in his words and though he had no need to prove – he drank the vial ….
“So – young pup!!! What magic have you ??” asked his inquisitor ..
“I am Thorvald – and I scorn your Magics!!” spat Thorvald in words that would one day become so well known…
“give me my axe and your best champion and I will show you who is a pup.. “
Lord Albion laughed aloud.. “ So – the pup has spirit !! Well – let us teach him the ways of Albion - until you cry to serve the Gods of Law…”
“The Gods of Norsca are greater than the petty Gods of Law” cried Thorvald – and staggered as they started beating him …
“Give me my weapon you cowards – and I will show you who has the greatest Gods” called Thorvald – but instead they continued to beat and kick him till he was almost dead…
“Leave him for the animals of the forest “ said Lord Albion and they stripped him and left him for dead – amongst the rotting bodies of the warhost of Uthgard… and Thorvald was so near to death that it is no wonder that they thought him so …
But hidden deep inside the young Norscan champion, grew a burning thought,
a burning hatred of those of Albion who had denied him a death with weapon in his hand – but had seen fit strip him and beat him to death like an animal
a burning hatred of those who use powers of the elements instead of fighting with weapons
a burning hatred of those who channel the spirits to bend the mind instead of facing man to man
a burning hatred of those who corrupt the fountain of life to inflict pain and suffering
a glowing pride in himself – who would fight back and make them sorry
a pride in Norsca – and the land that he would return to…
Naked, Beaten, Humiliated, weak … but not defeated!!!
Slowly – he struggled to his knees – and knew that he would return to one day to have his vengeance..
He found his way to a crofters cottage and collapsed against the door ..
There the lady took him in and bathed his wounds and later he found his way back to Norsca…
This is the tale that I heard from the descendent of that lady who took Thorvald in and nursed him to health –
I did not say she was Norse…
The fire had dwindled... each went to their sleeping blankets .. to dream of the greatest hero of Norsca and like the Gods themselves, perhaps his failings....
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