Chapter 22: How to Wield a Sword

"And you, young warrior," continued King Hrymr, turning to face Grim squarely. "What brings you to our lands?"

"I'm just passing through," answered Grim honestly. "On my way home from hunting."

He paused, wondering if he should tell them about his encounter with Draugluin yet. Then again, perhaps that would make things complicated. He decided to wait a little longer.

King Hrymr pondered Grim's words for several moments. Finally, he spoke up. "If you're merely traveling, I won't ask why you've come here. However, if your purpose is to fight for me, I will require an oath of allegiance first."

"Of course," replied Grim without hesitation. "But what sort of terms does Your Majesty desire?"

Hrymr smiled knowingly. "An interesting question indeed," he murmured, tapping his chin thoughtfully before answering. "You see, my kingdom has faced many battles recently. Our enemies grow bolder every year, and I fear they mean to invade soon. My own men have grown weary of warring, but I cannot allow such weakness to threaten my rule. Therefore, I intend to send my army south next spring, to meet the enemy on their ground. If we defeat them, then peace shall be ours forevermore! What say you? Will you join us?"

Grim considered carefully. On one hand, joining the king's forces meant abandoning any hope of finding answers regarding his brother. Yet, on the other, did he really want to return to Bifrostheim empty handed? Perhaps there was still some value in trying to save his family. Besides, he couldn't let Hrymri suffer needlessly. And if he didn't help defend his homeland… well, Grim wasn't sure exactly how much trouble it could get into alone.

The prince sighed deeply. He hated disappointing his parents, especially since they expected so much from him. Still, even though he knew it might cost him dearly, he finally came around to agreeing to serve the crown.

"Your majesty, I am yours to command!" declared Grim solemnly.

***

A few days later, Grim stood in the center of the training yard surrounded by dozens of soldiers clad in shining steel breastplates. Around him, the guards practiced swinging swords, firing arrows, or hurling spears. All wore helmets shaped like ram horns, which protected their heads as well as allowed them to hear clearly over the din of clashing metal. The noise echoed off the walls of the stone fortress surrounding them all, making Grim feel as if he were standing inside a giant bell jar.

After receiving his orders, Grim took position near the back line of the formation. He held his shield high above his head, using it both offensively and defensively. His spear hung loosely in his right hand, ready to thrust forward when needed. As he waited patiently for the signal to begin, Grim gazed out at his fellow warriors, each of whom looked far more skilled than himself.

This isn't going to work, he realized glumly.

Despite this realization, Grim remained where he was, determined not to give up. After all, these were his countrymen, albeit ones he'd never met before. Surely, they must understand the importance of defending themselves against invaders. Even if none of them seemed interested in learning how to use a sword properly, surely they wouldn't mind being taught the basics.

As Grim watched, however, he noticed that no matter who raised their shields to protect themselves, the blows rained down upon them mercilessly. When someone tried to dodge out of the way, another soldier immediately slammed into them from behind. One man attempted to strike his opponent's legs while simultaneously blocking the attack coming from three different directions at once. Another simply dropped his weapon altogether, instead wrapping his arms tightly across his chest. But no sooner had they done that, than two of the attackers struck them simultaneously from either side. They fell backwards onto the hard-packed dirt floor, barely able to breathe beneath the weight of the force pressing down upon them.

"Come on now," called the sergeant commanding the squad. "We don't have time for this nonsense! Pick up those weapons and move forwards!"

Still, nobody complied. Instead, the crowd began shouting angrily at one another, until eventually the entire group turned away from the training yard entirely.

For a moment, Grim felt as if he'd failed completely. Then, something occurred to him: maybe the others just wanted to learn about battle tactics, rather than actually practice with them. That would make sense; after all, most people weren't born knowing how to swing a sword. It certainly made sense to him.

That decided, Grim stepped forward. With his shield held low, he approached the front row of troops and waved his arm towards the sergeant. "Excuse me, sir," said Grim politely. "I believe I speak for everyone here when I say our minds are quite occupied. Could we perhaps take a break?"

The sergeant stared at the young warrior suspiciously. Finally, he shrugged. "Fine by me." He gestured to the door leading outside, then walked through without further comment.

Once the rest of the men followed suit, Grim breathed an audible sigh of relief. This was better than he'd hoped for. Now he could teach his fellow soldiers what little he knew about combat, and hopefully bring some peace to their hearts as well.

"All right, listen closely," he instructed. "When you're facing your enemy, remember—"

Before he could finish speaking, however, there was a loud crash, accompanied by screams of terror. Everyone turned toward the sound, only to see several dozen armored figures pouring into the courtyard. Each figure bore the same helmet design as Grim's own, but otherwise appeared identical to every other guard present. Their faces were hidden within the shadowed recesses of their helms, yet somehow Grim sensed that these men had evil written plainly on their features. And judging by the sheer volume of footfalls echoing throughout the fortress, he guessed that many more enemies were still approaching.

Grim glanced around nervously, wondering where to run next. If he ran straight ahead, he'd be trapped between the approaching army and the open gate. To his left, however, lay a large pile of rubble—a section of wall that had collapsed during the initial assault. Perhaps he should go that route…

Just as he started moving in that direction, however, he heard a familiar voice cry out from somewhere nearby.

"Halt!" commanded the officer holding aloft his banner. The soldiers surrounding him quickly obeyed, forming ranks along the sides of the courtyard.

A second later, the first rank of guards charged past Grim, heading directly for the entrance to the fortress. At the very last instant, Grim dove aside, narrowly avoiding being trampled underfoot. He landed flat on his backside, staring upwards at the sky in shock.

It didn't look like they'll let us leave, he thought grimly.