The roar of a bear shook the leaves of the nearby bushes as it charged at a bloodied human figure. Its opponent held a thick dagger in his right hand, staring at the charging beast with his light brown eyes. A deep breath slipped away beneath the bear’s roar as the bloodied figure began to rush towards the beast himself. The enraged bear lounged forward with its claws swiping through the air, but they hit empty space as the figure leapt upwards with a slight spin of his body. He struck downwards with his dagger, sinking it into the side of the bear’s neck, pulling himself downwards using his stuck blade. The bear roared out in anger and pain as it tried to throw off its attacker from its back, but a hammer-like strike from the stranger’s hand bashed it on the head to stagger it for a moment. That moment was enough for the man to tear the dagger free, only to sink into the beast’s skull through its earhole. It jerked and roared out as the blade was twisted in its skull before it collapsed on the ground. The bloodied man rolled off the beast’s back, vomiting blood himself between heavy breaths.
“Curse you, you bloody cowards!” His tired and pained voice filled the sudden quiet of the forest as he tried to stand back up.
As he straightened himself, he towered over the bear’s carcass with his six-and-a-half feet height. A deep breath and a bloody spit later, the brawny young man crouched down and grabbed the carcass, slowly lifting it up. He crouched beneath it, letting it rest on his back as he pulled its front legs over his shoulders and began to drag it away like an overgrown mill sack. His slow and heavy footsteps left deep imprints on the spring grass of the forest as the man moved towards his goal. He stopped from time to time to adjust the carcass for a better grip before moving on once more. A good hour later the thick fir trees parted ways as the sight of a valley spread out in front of him. The sun was already falling from the sky, painting the dale in a dark golden red. Longhouses and huts sparsely filled the land, the rocky dirt path in front of him leading down the hill. A crowd gathered at the edge of the village, loud laughter and cheers filling the air as the older generation patted the youngsters on their backs and the youths boasted about the prey they’d hunted.
“Look!” a sharp feminine yell broke the merry gathering. “Einar is back!”
The crowd turned towards the youth, watching in awe as he dragged the bear carcass through what counted as the finishing line of that day’s challenge. He let the corpse fall on the ground as everyone cheered even louder, but there was no joy on the youth’s face, only anger. The people who wanted to congratulate him had to jump aside as Einar broke into a run.
“Father save...” A squeaky voice tried to call for help in the crowd before a thundering boom filled the air and a bloody-faced figure flew through the air.
“Einar!” The guards yelled as they rushed towards him as he lifted a black-haired girl in the air by the throat.
“You dare raise your hand at the Jarl’s children? You’ll...”
“I raised my hands at a pair of cowards!” Einar answered as his grasp tightened around the young woman’s neck.
“Einar, let go of my daughter or you’ll lose your arm!” A voice of authority pulled everyone’s gaze towards a man in richly adorned armour.
The man walked closer with measured steps as he unsheathed his sword.
“I’d like to see you try, Gunnar.” Another heavy voice challenged as the crowd parted ways for a mountain of a man.
This figure was slightly taller than Einar and bulkier as well. His features were similar to the youth, his braided beard and the twin axes in his hands both swaying with each step.
“He attacked my son and daughter, Björn. I am within my rights to...”
“He also called them cowards,” the giant cut into the man’s words. “There ought to be a good reason for that. Don’t you think?”
After earning the Jarl’s silence, he turned towards the youth with his axe still pointing at the Jarl.
“Speak up son! What happened?”
“I was hunting down a great black wolf when these two appeared out of the forest with that bear right on their heels. They ran past me, leading it right towards me. The cowards even yelled back that they hoped I’d have a heroic death as they ran after the wolf I already injured and vanished back into the forest. They managed to anger the bear so much that it only saw blood and it nearly ripped me apart.” He pointed at his slashed-apart vest.
“Well,” Björn grinned with a murderous glint in his eyes. “Are you still within your rights, Gunnar?”
“Father, he’s lying!” The young man with the bleeding lips said as he got up from the ground.
“Ingrid and I would never...”
“Check the inner thigh of that wolf’s left hind leg! one of my knives got stuck in it when I fought it. If nothing else, the wound is still there.”
Not knowing what to say, the jarl nodded and one of the hunters stepped beside the giant wolf carcass. The man raised the beast’s leg and he soon pulled out a small dagger from it.
“That’s my son’s knife. You can ask Sven if you don’t believe me. He forged it not that long ago.”
The crowd of people turned towards the local blacksmith for confirmation. Sven, as tall and hardy as he was, still seemed to be an ordinary fellow compared to Björn. The blacksmith nodded in agreement, his light flax-coloured hair swinging in a slow rhythm. His nod earned a new wave of murmurs in the crowd as they looked at Einar and the twins.
“It seems like your brats broke both the rules of today’s festival and the laws. They must pay the price for their deed.” The giant of a man stated as he gripped his twin axes.
“Don’t you dare berate me about the law,” Gunnar growled. “God-marked stand above the common folks. Even if they did what your son claims. If anything, you should be...”
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“The God-marked might have a higher standing than a commoner,” a gentle yet firm and commanding voice broke the argument. “But today they stand as equals.”
A woman wearing a colourful robe walked forward through the crowd, carved bone ornaments clinging to her clothes. She walked closer to the tall youth, circling him while scrutinizing him with a discerning gaze.
“Take off that ruined shirt, boy!” The woman said and the youth did as told without hesitation.
He dropped the somewhat purple-faced girl and pulled off the remains of his shirt. Once his torn upper clothes were taken off, the woman grabbed the scraps of cloth from his hand and used it to wipe the blood from the youth’s injured chest. A set of still-fresh claw marks were revealed, along with a faintly glowing tattoo. A serpent biting its own tail formed a circle where the young man’s heart was.
“The Great Serpent’s mark.” Björn stuttered as he stared at the sigil on his son’s chest.
“That’s impossible,” Gunnar said as he stumbled back. “He wasn’t born with a God’s mark. This must be some kind of...”
“That’s enough!” The woman called out to the jarl, her face darkening.
“But Helga, that’s...”
“Did you forget to whom today’s challenge is for? Today is the day of the Proving. Today’s hunt is meant to be an offering to the gods and a proof of the younglings’ readiness to become adults. Defeating a full-grown black bear with nothing but a knife is a deed worthy of the blessing of the gods. Today Einar fought a great foe and was blessed for his bravery and skill. He is a God-marked now, and the winner of today’s challenge. His is the right of the two sacks. As is the reparation you ought to pay for the misdeed of your kin. The Proving is hereby over. Tomorrow morning I shall open the gateway to the Field of Broken Blades. Now rest, young ones.” Helga stated as she turned and began to walk away towards the village shrine.
“You heard the priestess,” Björn said with a gleeful smirk. “See you tomorrow Gunnar. And don’t forget to bring along what’s owed.”
The jarl’s face switched between several different shades of red and purple, threatening to make his eyes pop out of his skull. Björn couldn’t care less about the man’s rage as he and a few others grabbed the dead bear, taking it to the skinner’s workshop. Einar was told to head over to the local healer, his wounds needing to be taken care of. The tall youth earned several pats on the back from the people as he walked through the village, his eyes wandering amongst the thatch-roofed houses.
“Einar,” a soft voice called out to him from a nearby building. “Granny Eira is already waiting for you. Hurry up and get inside!”
“She’s waiting for me?” The young man asked as he stared at the shapely girl at the door of a large hut.
Kari was a pretty girl, beautiful even. Her hay-coloured hair encircled her oval face, making her dark-brown eyes and slightly freckled cheeks more appealing. If there was one girl in the village that could make even this giant of a lad’s heart beat faster, it was her.
“I saw what that bear had done to you, so I came back to tell her about it. I knew you’d come here first.”
“Clever.” Einar praised her briefly as he was ushered inside the healer’s cottage.
The smell of herbs and ointments floated thickly in the air, several different plants hanging from the ceiling.
“You look like a mess,” an aged voice greeted him. “I’ll have to stitch those claw marks close. I hope that you’re ready for it.”
“Greetings, granny Eira.” The young man greeted the old healer as he sat down on the wooden stool she pointed at.
The woman cleaned his wounds with some foul-smelling spirit, using a bent needle and some horse hair thread to stitch the wounds shut. Einar sat through the process without so much as a sound, earning a nod from the old woman. She smeared some kind of ointment on his injuries before touching the snake tattoo on his chest.
“Congratulations on becoming a God-marked. And it only took you a brush with death to earn it. Alright, you’re done. Come back early in the morning tomorrow and I’ll get the threads out. God-marked heal fast, especially with my ointments. Now go and tell your mother that I’m still waiting for that basket she promised.”
“I will, and thank you!”
The large youth headed towards the door, only stopping when a voice called out to him once again.
“Einar,” Kari stepped beside him. “Will you come to tomorrow’s feast?”
“I’ll have to now.” He pointed at the tattoo on his chest.
“Then, I’ll meet you there!” She chirped with a sunny smile before scurrying back to her grandmother.
Einar couldn’t stop himself from shaking his head as he left the healer’s hut, making his way to the edge of the village. A large stone-walled house stood near the line of trees that followed the left side of the village, smoke puffing out of its chimney. As the young man neared the building, its door opened and a gentle-toned woman greeted him.
“Welcome home, son!” The red-haired woman ushered him closer, circling around the youth to look for injuries.
“I already heard the news about your victory at the Proving,” she sighed as her fingers brushed against the ointment on his chest. “You had me worried. Your father arrived a few minutes ago, telling me that you were attracted by a bear.”
“It did leave me with a farewell gift.” Einar noted as he looked down at his sewn-up wounds.
“I still can’t believe what those shameless twins did! To think that they would...”
“It’s alright, mother.” The youth tried to calm down the fiery-tempered woman as they walked inside.
“If anything,” Björn’s deep voice resounded from one of the rooms as he joined them. “We should be grateful for the chance those cowards brought towards his way. After all; we finally have a God-marked in the family.”
“Björn Arnessen, you callous oaf!” The woman started to wind up her fury once again, only to be pulled into a hug as the giant man stole a kiss from her.
“Astrid; can’t you be happy for our son? He’s a bloody God-marked now! He broke the edict of that bloody old tyrant and can finally leave the island. We’re finally free. All of us.”
“I know,” the woman let out a deep sigh. “I’m just worried. Tomorrow’s the day of the Gathering and the God-marked would be granted a calling as well. What if he gets something that will make everyone despise or envy him?”
“The Gods found him worthy of their blessing,” Björn let go of his wife and sat down beside the table that was filled with a sumptuous meal. “They will know what he needs more than the two of us. Now let’s eat. Tonight we celebrate!”
The giant of a man let out a hearty laugh, his loud voice prompting a pair of younger children to appear from one of the rooms. A boy and a girl, varying in age, both less than ten winters now hung on their father’s arms. Laughter and singing filled the house as the dinner passed and night took hold of the land. Once the small family celebration was over, Einar washed down the blood and dirt of the day before collapsing on his bed.