Summary
A semi-short historical/fantasy about a half-human, half goddess (A Halfenwraith) goes looking for a human hero to marry. Takes place in a mythical Viking-like world.
“I have but one riddle left for thee, Erlot One-Eye. Would thee list to it afore thee pass on to meet your fate? Or, like an eager young lover, are you too randy and hot for the kill?”
Erlot snorted out a laugh, handed a servant his axe, turned aside and fumbled with his leggings. “I need to piss, old woman. You have as long as my stream continues to riddle your riddle — for when both it and you are finished, I go to crack a young fool’s head!”
Hagatha made a dry, cackling sound, then a brief, finger motion in the air. A blessing or a curse, only she could say. “Then list well, One-Eye, and pray your brain is as sharp as your axe.” With that, the old crone stepped into the late afternoon sunlight streaming in through the open door. And I and everyone else there strained to hear her words:
‘What is the thing that no-one can buy,
Be he a beggar, priest or king?
What is the thing that no-one can see,
Yet everyone feels its passing?
More precious than love,
It slips through our door,
Yet in the end —
We still cry out for more!’
But Lord Erlot’s stream had already run dry and he was stomping away long before Hagatha finished — just as she had known that he would! ‘Go then, old fool,’ she thought, inwardly smiling, ‘for with one eye or two, you have always been blind to the ways of the gods, who love to mock mockers such as thee! The riddle’s answer of course is ‘Time’ — something I believe you have run out of. Go now, Lord Fool, and meet your fate — for it has been overlong in coming!’ She made one last strange finger motion. A curse or a blessing? Only she and the Fates could say.
***
A ‘Ring of Wands’ had been set up — wooden stakes driven into the stony ground, making a rough circle ten paces across. An ‘Honour Ring’ where duels, grudges and long-nursed hatreds were settled — one way or the other. In reality, the loser of the duel had only three choices, and none of them pleasant: Death or a wound that could lead to death — surrendering and publicly admitting his guilt — or banishment & ridicule by deliberately stepping outside the circle.
Lord Erlot One-Eye, a large, circular shield in one hand and Skull Splitter in the other, had no intention of doing any of these. Sober enough to know that he was still partially drunk, he planned to kill Halfdain quickly.
He had seen the younger man fight many times, even watched him with a sullen envy as Halfdain easily bested others in the daily training sessions and in mock battles and tournaments. Erlot knew well his captain’s strengths and weaknesses. Of the latter he had few — but one that the older warrior planned to exploit to its fullest!
Halfdain often attacked not with his sword, but with his shield, punching the central iron boss forward into his opponent’s face, knocking the man off balance and then finishing him with an overhead sword stroke, usually knocking him senseless.
Erlot would be ready for the shield punch and block it not with his own shield, but with his great axe —hooking the bottom part of the blade over the top of Halfdain’s shield and dragging it down, thereby exposing the guard captain to a sweeping blow from Erlot’s own shield — then the killing blow from Skull Splitter!
Victory in three quick moves — followed by a long night of pleasure with the dark-haired bitch!
That is not, however, how things turned out.
***
