CLAN FEUD edited

Clan Feud

I could not have been out for very long, as I could hear the yells and shouts of alarm from our rock while I was tossed onto a hard surface.

The wild and angry face of Hilfheim was the first thing that came into focus as my blurred vision subsided. He was bent over me."Don't move Olafson scum!"

I did anyway by kicking him as hard as I could between the legs, whatever I was on moved, my kick and the moving floor made Hilfheim stumble back, while it gave me a precious few moments to orient myself.

I was on the deck of a boat, from the looks of it a sixty footer with harpoon gun and a wheel house.

Two of the other men tended to the wounded Gansbaf.

Not giving them any time to react I catapulted myself forward and hit Hilfheim with a shoulder tackle. The man still fighting the most likely unpleasant sensations caused by my kick in that quite sensitive region, was a full grown Nilfeheim viking, but perhaps the rolling deck added to the momentum of my rage filled attack. Hilfheim went overboard.

In all this madness that had given me no chance to really think, I had to laugh, but the other two men had dropped their wounded friend and what they would do next was not hard to guess.

Whatever possessed me not to jump over board myself was certainly not the smartest thing to do, but I ran and with four or five strides I reached the Harpoon gun swung it around. It was the same model as our boats used. While I never was along fishing, I had scrubbed decks and greased the mechanical parts of these guns. Left lever down floated the magnetic rails. It took only a heart beat and the light became green.

The two men were close, but not close enough to prevent me from pointing the razor sharp point of the barbed harpoon at one of them. "Come closer and I spit one of you."

They stopped. At this range I could not miss and the slightest turn was enough to line it up with either one.

They weren't the only ones. More men scrambled out of the wheel house at the rear armed with harpoon guns as well.

I fired.

The men threw themselves on the deck, while the harpoon designed to kill a Tyranno smacked into the wheel house right where I suspected the rudder control was.

The projectile had an explosive tip and whatever it struck made the boat shudder and change course in a steep angle. Only now, I noticed that we were going at full speed.

Such a drastic course change at full speed tilted the deck and to my delight tossed two more men right over board, and made the rest come to their feet, tumble and slide, unable to bring their weapons to bear. I did not fare much better, but was able to hold onto the gun shoulder supports.

The boat had lost steering and was still making a steep turn.

Holding onto the line the harpoon had trailed to the wheel house, I balanced over the still steep tilting deck.

One of the men managed to shoot his spear gun, but the shaft missed me by a good meter...

A tackle block that had come loose from somewhere slid over the deck. I snatched it up. The thing was used to guide rope or cable over a set of wheels, as part of a hoist.

It was made of metal and had a length of rope, tangled up in it.

One of the men had managed to lunge forward and grab my legs, while he was raising a fighting knife to stab me.

More out of instinct than any other reason I swung the tackle block and smashed it across his head. The thing turned out to be a devastating weapon in close combat, his helmet flew and with it blood and teeth.

Now I heard magnified voices, and turned to look. A second fishing boat was close by and a man with a megaphone leaning over the railing shouted." Cut the engine or you going to plow into the keel rippers."

One of the Elhir men rushed to the wheel house, struggled as fast as he could up the short ladder and disappeared into the smoke belching steering compartment. Moments later the tilting deck righted itself and we lost speed fast. It was too late.

With an ear piercing sound of tearing metal and a harsh jolt that made me hold onto the harpoon line and almost lose my improvised weapon; the boat had hit something.

There were still five Elhir men, including the one in the wheel house. Four of them now had their swords drawn and came rushing close.

There was no talking, no chance of stopping them, their faces pure rage. For some strange reason I was not afraid, "Come ye, I am but a boy and stand firm against Elhir cowardice. I will die before I surrender!"

"Halt!" The booming voice from before commanded.

The Elhir men stopped, not because of me swinging the tackle block but because of the armed men that swung over the side and because of a man in the robe and furs of an Elder. Against the wind he yelled. "Men of Elhir, stand down or ye shall answer before the Circle of Elders. A clan feud ends and becomes a war when abduction is committed."

One of the Elhir protested. "What recourse do we have if the Olafson cowards whip our sons, in the cover of night and masked like cowards?"

"The recourse of challenge! Let the Elhir chief challenge the Chief of the Olafsons. However we witnessed unwavering courage, the hallmark of a true Norse in this young Olafson."

To me the Elder said. "vestu heil ok sæl- Hail the young warrior!"

More men came on deck.

Now I could see their colors. It was a boat of the Holmquist Clan. Staunch allies of the Ragnarsson Clan.

The Elder said. "This is now a matter of the Elders and the Chiefs of Nilfeheim. You Eric of Nilfeheim however will be remembered as warrior born."

"One of the Holmquist men said. "We must evacuate this boat, it is sinking fast."

–

The Elhir boat did not sink. The men managed to patch it with emergency foam and the Holmquist boat was towing it to the Burg.

I was certain almost everyone was up now as I saw the crowd waiting, in the center of course the frightening shape of my big father. The Holmquists had used Nilfeheim Radio to call ahead.

As we came ashore, father did not even look at me, as he clasped underarms with the Elder "Honored Goði, my Isle is blessed with thy presence. Has this failure I must call my son, caused any problems? I shall of course punish him and lay open his hide."

"Your hatred of your own son has even reached the Elders, your Son has bestowed great honor upon the name Olafson today.

Despite his youth he stood against warriors, fought a warrior with a sword and by our laws captured a boat. The details of this clan feud are now subject to the Circle of Elders. Unless you want to settle this manner by an open challenge."

"Nay, I would have lauded the Elhir for exterminating this failure. Their attack was against the Ragnarsson Rock. I wager once its still distant lord returns such a challenge is uttered."

"By slaying two Tyrannos and facing warriors like a true Viking, your son has earned the right to wear the helmet of a warrior. Do you object to this tradition, Isegrim of the Olafsons?"

"How I raise my sons is not the concern of anyone, not even that of the Elders. Lothar is my true heir and this cretin has outlived his usefulness when he turns 16 and inherits. He sneaked out of the burg without my permission and will receive his punishment."

The elder stepped back. "The Elders concern themselves with all matters of tradition as they are our laws. Have you indeed declared Lothar your heir in front of me and Clan chiefs? We could declare Eric adult today, after slaying Tyrannos and fighting like a warrior born. You do know what this means, right?"

It was clear that Father realized what he was about to do and said.

"I will forgo any punishment and allow him to wear the Helmet. Eric is my first born until Lothar  challenges and kills him."

The Elder gave father a long look. "You realize that all this will reach the ear of Erik Gustav Ragnarsson."

Father gasped and his hand dropped to his whip.

"What business is it for Elders to gossip to those who hide themselves on other worlds? There is no need to involve his Grandfather. He did well and as expected." The Holmquists Clan leader said. "We were on our way to bring this Elder to our rock and witnessed your son’s deeds. Eric may come to our shores at any time. He will be welcome with highest honors."

"You, Isegrim took on the ring of the Clan Chief. Now this feud between Olafson and Ehir cannot escalate any further. We Elders have called for all Clan chiefs to attend a meeting at the Thing and your presence is required."

"It was the Elhir who snatched my weak son and wounded my beloved Lothar. What business do I have before the Elders?"

"The business of a Clan Chief. You are hereby summoned to appear before the Elders. You and the Elhir are to come before us tonight."

--""--

Father had dragged me by the hair, all the way to the High Halls. I was steeling myself for the worst.

He had not spoken a single word, but we weren't alone, many of the Clans warriors had followed us.

With an air of importance and dressed in a deep red gown, Gretel appeared with her hands stemmed in her hips. "What is the meaning of all this? Why are you dragging that thing into our Halls?"

"These are matters of war and clan feud and not the realm of women. I am summoned before the Elders and so is Eric."

–

My mind was still reeling from the unusual events. I could not decide what I should make of it all, but this was the first time at least since I could remember that I was recognized as a member of the Clan.

I was sitting across from Father in our Volvo flyer. He was flanked by Gerhard, an Olafson warrior I knew little about and the always silent Orkimg, wearing Ragnarsson black.

Greifen had helped me get dressed, and again for the first time I wore Olafson red and a real leather tunic.

Father clenched his fist and then said. "You will not speak, not open your mouth unless I say so and don't have any hope. Your thrashing is only postponed. Once this is over I will break every bone and tan your miserable hide. I need you alive, but it matters not if you see your sixteenth birthday as a cripple."

Orking resting his hands on the handle of a battle axe grunted with a smile. "Who knows what the day will bring, Sire. The Elders also summoned the Elhir Chief, and Challenges might be spoken."

Father reached for his whip. "Then I add what is Elhir to what is mine."

His voice was strong and matter of fact, but I could see his bluster and boast did not reach his eyes.

Gerhard tugged on his leather gauntlets. "The eyes of Nilfeheim will follow what transpires on the Isle of the Elders, Sire. The Olafsons do not have a voce among the Elders. Your son however does."

Father looked at me. "This is why you are here."

–

The Isle of the Elders was located near the Uhim grounds, a good two thousand klicks from our burg.

I had never been here before and knew very little about this region, other than it was always ice free, and the hunting ground for Tyrannos.

Our flyer had landed before a burg like complex and the first thing I noticed were the many flyers and boats. I recognized many of the colors and heralds, from the looks of it most Clans were represented.

I was told to follow and trailed behind. I contemplated running and hiding. Maybe I could find shelter among the Clans of the East, and I was starting to look for an opportunity to make my idea a reality, but with Gerhard right behind me none was representing itself.

We entered a large hall through an open double door. The ceiling was at least twenty meters above us.

I counted twenty four white robed Elders sitting on an elevated semi circle of chairs.

Behind them on an even further elevated tier eleven more, only one seat, the one in the middle was empty.

Before that elevated assembly stood Leif Elhir, accompanied by several warriors of his clan.

To the each side of the hall were Clan chiefs and warriors standing there with serious faces, decked out in fur, leather, helmets and weapons.

Not even a Nubhir puppy would have found a gap to escape. I silently prayed to Odin to let this be over with and stay cursed Lokis hand who was without doubt responsible for getting me into situations like this.

One of the Elders got up from his seat and his voice silenced the whispered conversations that emanated from all the ones present.

"Now that Isegrim of the Olafson clan is here, let us begin."

The Elder waited a moment and then continued, "We have summoned the Chiefs of the Elhir and the Olafson Clan before the Circle as this clan feud of theirs is escalating fast and since each clan has allies and friends, this has the makings of a new War of Clans."

The Old man's voice rose in intensity and volume. "The last Clan War has brought weapons and evil from the other worlds and escalated fast to a point where the very existence of all Nilfeheim was in jeopardy. You all know what happened to the Uhim clan and its burg. This is why all Clans; new and old ones, West and East have agreed that we no longer fight Clan wars.

We Neo Vikings are too stubborn, too violent and we know no boundaries once our anger is raised, to be allowed to fight war against each other." Many of the men present  nodded to these words.

"That we are not a peaceful lot is evident in our history even before we left distant Earth so long ago and that Clan feuds are part of our traditions no one denies, but there must be a limit."

He pointed his finger at the Elhir chief. "Your clan is mighty and many clans will heed thy call, as there are old oaths. It is not a well kept secret that the Elhir eye with worry to the North, as the Olafson Clan is becoming one with the Ragnarsson Clan.

And no one with eyes and ears knows of thy poison and temper Isegrim of the Olafsons. Who of you has started it, or if it was a boiling condition that has existed before you took on the mantles of clan chiefs, is not the subject of this summons. The potential that it grows out of control however is.

The abduction of clan members, violence and murder in the guise of masks and wee hours is not our way and must cease. Now you may utter challenges, you may draw arms in the open and defend honor and clan."

The Elders rose from their seats and crossed their arms.

The old man that had spoken nodded and continued. "Be warned, both of you. Bring your grief into the open, attack in the open, but cease all this cowardly business or your clans shall be judged and you expelled from the assembly of chiefs."

The Elhir chief spoke first. "I found my own son beaten to within an inch of his life and two freemen murdered before the gates of my burg. Yet I have not given my son Hilfheim permission to attack the Ragnarasson rock or the minions of this cowardly steward. I acknowledge the council of the Elders and declare to abide." Father was next. "Cowards dropped a raging beast in our court yard, causing damage before my son dispatched the Fangsnapper. Cowards landed on our shores bringing a beaten and wounded warrior and to cause whatever mayhem they planned and have been soundly beaten by the least and weakest of my clan. I do not fear open conflict and welcome it. So I too acknowledge the Elders and abide by their council."

The old man that had spoken brushed over his beard. "Now do you want to settle this like chiefs? There is the question of the boat for one."

The Elhir chief gestured to me. "Hilfheim has acted without my consent or knowledge. The son of Isegrim has fought well and by our traditions the boat is his. However it is known that the Clan Chief of the Olafsons shuns his first born and favors others. Declare him a warrior and I shall welcome him in my clan. There is no shame in acknowledging valor even from an enemies son."

The elder said. "True words have been spoken, Isegrim of the Olafsons. What sayest you?"

"I have declared him my first born upon the Altar of Odin, I do not pamper my son and raise him as I see fit. That my way is the right one, is evident."

The Elhir chief and father kept bickering and calling each other names, but neither man went as far as actually challenge the other. It appeared neither man was to certain about their own prowess.

But I was more than surprised by the Elhir's offer and of course my father's admission that I was indeed his first born.

The grand affair was actually fizzling out into another hour of empty threats and speeches.

In all this I was not asked anything and after the last words had been spoken, we went back to the flyer. The on looking chiefs clearly disappointed at not seeing the two men fight.

On our way back Father seemed pleased and he said to the men. "Take the whelp back to the rock. I have business to attend to and tow the boat to the Xchange."