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Born of Valar
Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Tyr continued to train the einherjar and found that the final two weeks flew by rather fast. Their movements were precise, and they had begun to watch out for one another, even forcing a group of higher einherjar to back down when they came to cause trouble. Upon the day of the fight, Tyr roused the einherjar before dawn and had them follow him to the field after breakfast.

“Why did you bring us out here, jarl Tyr?”

“These last few days, I have been rather hard on all of you. I know that many are still upset by what I asked you to give up while training. I am sorry that it caused you some discomfort, but at this moment, you have a greater advantage than the einherjar you will face. You are sober while they are hung over. Your food will have settled in your stomachs by the time the fight started, and more than anything you are ready for this fight. It is rare for Asgard to be invaded, but if it were, I would feel a little bit safer knowing that you would be here to defend it should the need arise.

“However, the time has come to put all the training you have received to the test, for out there you will have three opponents. One is the many einherjar that you will fight on this field, and there may even be a few more than usual, so their numbers may seem indomitable, but you are worth roughly fifteen of them. the Second, and perhaps greatest, is fear. This field and your opponents may bring about bad memories, and some of you may fear that even with all your training the result will be the same. Rest assured that it won’t, for you all are not the same einherjar as you were a month ago. You are more skilled and courageous than before, and you have within you a drive to push forward. It is not for me to guarantee a victory for you, nor is it likely that all of you will survive to the end of the fight. Believe in yourselves, have faith in the ones standing next to you, and if all else fails, dig down deep for some meanness and take down as many of the enemy as you can for the sake of sheer spite. Finally, there is Odin himself, for while Odin may not be participating directly in the fight, he will undoubtedly have a few tricks on him. Keep your wits about you and your heads calm, for that will help some…”

“My jarl, I hate to interrupt but I can see the Aesir, Vanir and other einherjar are starting to approach.”

“That quicker than I anticipated. Alright a few pieces of parting advice. First, the shield wall technique I taught you is not invincible, as there is a wedge formation called the Boar’s Head that can break it, look for that and be prepared. Secondly, I had a reason for having you learn how to make thinner blades: they can pierce chainmail and slip in the openings under scale and plate armor. Thirdly, though I have often gotten onto all of you for being too flashy in training, you are welcome to do so here provided you remember to have each other’s backs.”

“Is that all jarl Tyr?”

“No, there is one more thing: I want you all to know that regardless of what the outcome of this fight is, I am honored that I got a chance to train you and am very proud of who you all have become. Thank you for your time and effort.”

Tyr smiled fondly at the einherjar. Then, energetically, Tyr threw up his fist.

“For the glory of Valhalla!”

“For the glory of Valhalla!” the einherjar shouted then swiftly marched in unison to their position, while Tyr walked over to where the other Aesir were.

“Ah Tyr!” Shouted Thor, waving Tyr to his side. “This fight will be rather interesting, there are already bets placed on how the fight will go.”

“Oh? How did you bet?”

“I bet five silver coins that your gambesons will last for fifteen minutes before they fall, and three silvers that they will defeat nine armored opponents. My wife bet four silver for ten minutes and four silver that will defeat about twelve opponents.”

“What did Hermod bet?”

“He skipped betting on how many they would take down and bet ten silver coins that your einherjar will last more than twenty minutes. What did you bet?”

“Aside from the one with Odin, nothing. For I have at this moment nothing to bet nor a desire to do so.”

Tyr nervously looked at the einherjar that they would be facing.

Nearly two hundred einherjar with a mixture of gear, shambled drunkenly towards the ones Tyr taught. Tyr’s einherjar in turn had stopped running and were now slowly advancing via shield wall formation.

The enemy group hasn’t turn on each other yet, how did Odin convince them not to?

As the first of the einherjar reached the shield wall, blades quickly darted out from behind the shields and pierced the chest of runners. From the moment the rest of the einherjar reached those trained by Tyr, a one-sided battle commenced, with the einherjar trying to find an opening in the shield wall only to die when they got too close after supposedly finding one.

Tyr smiled proudly as he watched his group cut through their enemies with ease, turning to Thor who watched with mouth agape.

“What do you think of this fight Thor?” Tyr asked innocently.

“This is no fight Tyr. Tis but a boring slaughter. Your group cuts through the other so quickly and efficiently that many of their enemies are dead before the sword is raised. There are no impressive moves either.”

“I acknowledge it lacks showmanship, but tell me Thor, if Ragnarök was tomorrow, which out of these two groups would you want to fight beside you?”

Thor grew silent at this thought and Tyr turned to see Odin approach them.

“Greetings Tyr, it seems as though you are about to win our bet.”

“I will wait for the fight to end first my king, but in truth victory will belong to the einherjar and Asgard, not me.”

Tyr looked back at the field and saw that all that was left of the opposing einherjar were a few archers that were slowly hunted down.

“Kind words indeed Tyr but it occurred to me after our deal that this was going to be our largest battle yet when one did the numbers.”

Odin then whistled loudly, and a thunder noise began to rise from where Tyr group had descended from before. Tyr stood up and saw the flashes of metal in the sunlight.

“What are you doing Odin?”

“Well, you see Tyr I at first thought that this was going to be 100 vs 200, then I remembered that, in all other matches the einherjar were to fight their own group as well, meaning that if I wanted to be fair this would need to be 100 vs 399, then I remembered that this was what each would face individually, so I would need to increase the 399 by a hundredfold. The field is too small for those numbers, and after considering how many of the little gambesons die before fighting, I decided that to properly have them face the number they would usually face, you einherjar would need to fight 2199 of the regular einherjar. They just finished with the first 199. And in fairness to those who placed a bet, this is where they will count rather than before.”

Tyr shot a disgusted look at Odin once Odin had finished gloating, then turned to the approaching mass. No mixtures among this group, they were all covered with armor and wielding true weapons alongside the Gambanteinns. What's more, they were now advancing towards Tyr’s group with a shield wall formation. Tyr sank to his knees and put his head in his hand.

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Large-scale battles have always been a competitive factoring of quality and quantity between two forces. Those I trained are better quality warriors, but the quantity of the others offset that. That is why I trained them to fight as a group to lessen the effect of the numbers so long as it was within reason, and twentyfold is beyond reason.

“Boar’s Head!”

Tyr’s head shot up as he saw his einherjar form a wedge like formation and begin to rush the larger group. The moment the smaller force hit the larger one Tyr saw two things happen. The first was that the einherjar who was at the tip of the Boar’s Head, Roth, was killed by the enemy’s swords. Secondly, the smaller force that broke through turned their Gambanteinns into thin bladed pikes and back as fast as they could while moving forward. Tyr felt a smile come across his face as the larger force retreated in surprise.

From this point the fighting became more individual, with the higher armed trying to attack the gambesons, with numbers and armor to aid them. Yet despite the better gear of their enemies, the gambesons of Tyr were slaying scores of them a minute individually and more when they could team up with one another. They began to pull moves that Tyr knew they must have been practicing in secret because of how showy they were, but they were serving them well here.

It is good that the battle is taking place between these hills, as it restricts the movement of the larger force.

Still, as the battle worn on the gambesons began to fall, and some of the larger force ran past them to the farther side of the field. Upon surrounding the gambesons, the larger force began to compact them together, as if to try to crush the gambeson under their own weight.

The gambesons have lost nearly half their fighting force. Still, to think that more than a thousand of the larger force has been lost is mind baffling.

“They have done better than I expected. You should be proud Tyr.” Said Odin not unkindly.

“Tell me Odin, had you just made it three hundred instead of these numbers, would they have won?”

“Perhaps, but you wished to train them for the last battle of these realms. When Ragnarök comes, the einherjar will fight against draugr and giants, neither of which will give the einherjar a fair fight. This is perhaps the best way to show the results of your training in the long run.”

“You cannot deny, however, that mine a of greater quality of fighters than yours.”

“Pride doesn’t really suite you Tyr. I will admit they have greater training, but often it is the quantity of the army and the quality of the armaments that decide the war, not the skills of the individual soldiers.”

Tyr looked down towards the einherjar once more. The larger force was pulling itself back, as though they wanted to give the gambesons time to breathe before crushing them, and it occurred to Tyr that the watchers were very silent now of this, as though they were preparing for a grim conclusion. It was at this moment that Thor bellowed from the top of his lungs.

“Come on Gambesons skewer them like pigs!! Rip them out of their fishy armor!”

“Thor…” said Tyr in surprise.

“Show the courage that earned you the right to be einherjar!” Thor cut him off. “Let the blades sing while drunk on the blood of the slain! PUSH THEM BACK!!!”

“But Thor.” Tyr finally getting Thor’s attention. “You bet against the gambesons.”

“That was then! Now those little wolves are showing some teeth and tearing through.”

“But…you will only get paid if the gambesons lose.”

“So I won’t have eight silvers anymore. Easy come, easy go. You can’t win all the time. In the end its just money, and what’s important is the fight itself. Give no quarter you woolen coated demons!”

Thor’s shouts had appeared to cause some confusion among the einherjar on both sides of the fight, but the gambesons recovered before their opponents did. The outer shield wall expanded out, and five gambesons of the center area were launched skyward. Those airborne did not have any Svalinns but had four Gambanteinns, two in each hand, instead. They then transformed one Gambanteinn in each hand to a thin bladed pike, and then the second Gambanteinn into a pike as the first was transforming back. The ground force did a similar tactic by holding their shields in one hand and two Gambanteinns in the other. The close packing of the enemy force resulted in the pike going through several of the higher-ups at once as well as sending them into disarray, which added to the success of the blitz.

By the time the higher-ups recovered, they numbered only 300. Still, their new tactic of forcing the gambesons into smaller groups and attacking them that way showed some success. However, the gambesons were unwilling to yield, and fought to their last breath, with some making their final act to skewer an enemy on a quickly transformed Gambanteinn.

Tyr stood up, staring at awe at the brave men even taking a few steps closer to where the fight was happening.

It seems they took my comment on meanness to heart, and by Illuvatar they are showing it in droves.

Tyr could’ve almost smiled, had the fight not continued. At last, the fight was at its final bout. Twenty of the higher-ups stood, with only one gambeson remaining, and Tyr realized that it was Brjann.

The one who spoke against the training first is the last to fall. Still, I suppose if one of the einherjar of that group was going to have enough spite to survive to the end it would be him.

Brjann stared at his opponents, keeping them in front of him at all times, before shouting to them “You waiting for invitations you troll-born cowards? Where is your courage that you had when you mocked us in the mead hall? Come on!”

Brjann drew his two Gambanteinns and rushed forward. As the higher-ups quickly tried to form a shield wall, Brjann extended one Gambanteinn and launched himself over the higher-ups, then pierced through one higher-up with a thin bladed pike variation to the other Gambanteinn. Before hitting the ground, Brjann had retracted and extended the Gambanteinns again, striking down two more, and then ran sideways to keep the others off balance. As the group turned, some tripped over the bodies of their fallen allies, which gave Brjann an opening to take down two more.

Tyr watched Brjann move around the higher-ups like a dancer twirling around bystanders, as well as using the various Svalinns that were strown across the ground to launch from one side of the group to the other, delivering cuts and stabs, and even causing two higher-ups to slay each other. Unfortunately, one of the higher-ups saw Brjann’s pattern and delivered and deep cut on Brjann’s leg as he sped past. The pain caused Brjann to stumble, though he angled his Gambanteinns behind him and turned them into spears, skewering the einherjar that was coming to strike his back. it was clear he wouldn’t be zipping around no more.

Still, thought Tyr, there are now only five enemies left.

As one higher-up rushed Brian in a premature whoop of victory, Brjann sidestepped and stabbed his neck, then twisted to throw the higher-up to his nearest allies. As two higher-ups struggled with the corpse, another began to move towards Brjann slowly. As the higher-up reached a certain distance, Brjann extended one of his Gambanteinn and struck a Svalinn on the ground near the higher-up’s feet, activating the wind magic in the Svalinn and launching it at the higher-up’s legs and causing him to fall over, to which Brjann stabbed him before he could rise. The fifth higher-up came up behind Brjann to slash at his back, but Brjann managed to turn his Gambanteinns to stab that one’s neck and launch himself away, so the blow merely grazed his skin.

By now, the two remaining higher-ups got free of the corpse and were now circling Brjann. Brjann tried to keep them where he could see both, but his wounds and the length of the battle had begun to take their toll, for his breathing was heavy and Tyr saw that Brjann was starting to sway. Then, one of the higher-ups lunged at Brjann. Brjann dodged and stabbed the higher-up in the right chest, only to have the other one come at Brjann with his sword raised. Brjann extended his Gambanteinn and stabbed the higher-up in the neck, only to cough up blood himself.

Looking down, Brjann saw that while he was focusing on the other higher-up, the one he stabbed had drawn his own Gambanteinn and extended it as a spear through Brjann’s chest. Brjann summoned the last bit of his energy and tried to stab the higher-up’s heart, but the strike was too low. As the higher-up threw Brjann to the ground, he grabbed his discarded sword and struck Brjann’s neck. The battle was now over.

Tyr stared at the field glumly as some the Aesir began to cheer uncertainly and was about to speak to Odin when the last higher-up alive fell to his knees. The Valkyries also saw this and rushed down as the man fell, but soon flew to Odin and Tyr.

“What happened?” Odin demanded.

“It was his wounds Allfather. Both final stabs had pierced his lungs, and he has now died of it. In fact, he was dead before he struck the gambeson down.”

Tyr turned to Odin, who looked to be in a mild state of shock.

“Congratulations Odin, you won the bet.”

“Hey, wait a minute Tyr, what do you mean Father won? You heard the Valkyrie your man was the last one alive.”

“The bet Odin and I made was as to see if my training would grant the einherjar victory. As Odin’s group had survived long enough to kill all of mine, the victory belongs to the einherjar he chose.

“As I said before, congratulations Odin, you won the bet.”

Odin then turned and stared at Tyr for a long time, as though there was something about Tyr that he was having trouble understanding.

“The bet.” Odin repeated, then looked out at the field as the Valkyries began to revive everyone.

“But not the battle.”