30 Pick up the sword

*Big thanks to Charlie Puente-Duany for your continuous support*

There were no cheers with that declaration but rather the people began to speak amongst themselves. The murmurs grew until eventually one man stood out, "What is the meaning of this Harwood?!"

"What it looks like, I am proclaiming my son high chief of the woodlands!" Harwood was firm as he turned to face the man. "This is madness!" "Madness? do you not see the new additions around you all sworn to my son" Harwood pressed on now glaring at the man.

The man matched Harwood's glare and continued, "I see them, everyone here with eyes has seen them. No one is denying the boys achievement but you are proclaiming him as not just our chief but as that of the entire Woodlands. His feet may be noteworthy but do no let that draw you away from truth, our numbers as they are now are still nothing to the true peak of these lands!"

His words were met with the agreement of many who began to murmur amongst themselves. Arthor seeing this step forward, grabbed the sword and flung before the man who had spoke out the sword burying itself before the man. All went silent as their eyes focused on the blade.

"Pick it up" Arthor's voice carried over the deafening silence, "If you believe in the filth that just came out of your mouth then pick it up. Let us settle this in the traditional way, if you believe I am not up to such a task then pick up that blade and prove it" Arthor turned around to address all around him, "that goes to all of you if any one of you believe that then pick up the damn sword!"

"But I will tell you now who ever picks u that sword will meet their ancestors today", with that declaration the people looked at one another. Lagertha who stood amongst the crowd had a smile on her face as she witnessed Arthor's actions, the man who had spoke up looked down at the sword seemingly contemplating picking up the sword before he eventually turned around and walked back into the crowd.

"Anyone!" Arthor screamed out after seeing this.

"Then today with the gods bearing witness I am your chief" Arthor moved forward and pulled the sword out giving everyone a once over, "but I am not just your chief, I am the High Chief and I intend to claim all my lands. Tell me are you happy being confined to such a small space, barely eating wondering if tonight would be the night you attempt to spare your babe the cruelty of winter"

Some of the mothers looked at the babes in their arms, " We are Skagossi, this is our land we should not be starving on our own homeland. And the only way we can have the time to obtain food is if the are no more enemies at our doorstep."

"Aye!" some of the men called out in agreement, "So tell me are you going to starve?!"

"No!"

"Are you going to cower and wait for our enemies to come for us?!"

"No!"

"I will march upon their doors and bring my blade upon all who refuse to acknowledge me, I will bring them down from their thrones and offer them to the old gods! so tell me! are you with me!"

"Arthor!" Lagertha was the first to shout and soon enough the rest were repeating after her chanting his name. "Arthor! Arthor! Arthor!"

*****

"I had thought you saw him as nothing more than a crazy boy" Harwood walked up to Lagertha as the watched Arthor fall to his knees before a weirwood tree, with a reluctant Shyra in her ceremonial outfit with a blood painted over her eyes in a straight line, sang the songs of the old gods.

"I still think he is crazy, but our ancestors never achieved anything by following sane men. If he can truly do it, achieve his crazy dreams then I will be willing to die for him" Lagertha spoke with conviction causing Harwood to smile, happy his friend had finally acknowledged his son.

Shyra finished her song before grabbing a hare and slitting its throat causing its blood to fill up a bowl, she went on to perform the last rites before turning to look at Arthor. She had not forgotten her visions of the boy, she was certain this boy would kill an untold number of people in the future. He would be a certified devil.

The only question in her mind was if the tribe needed such a devil right now, after another minute she dipped three of her fingers into the bowl before moving them to draw three vertical lines on Arthor's forehead and completing the ritual by draping a wolf fur coat over his shoulders, "rise Arthor, high chief of the woodlands."

The people let out loud cheers as Arthor made to his feet, turning around Arthor rose his sword causing for the shouts to rise even further.

This moment would be one of the most important one in the legend of Arthor.