Eric defeats Detlef Lindberg

Eric defeats Detlef Lindberg 5012 OTT Eric Olafson, Neo Viking Chapter 9 Fat Man

While waiting in the First Keepers office, Detlef Lindberg attacks Eric with a sword. Eric throws his knife and wounds the fat man.

The door behind me opened, and I heard steps and labored breath. "Whatever he said, First Guardian is a lie! He is known to be a liar, and I shall gladly take him outside for you." I recognized the pitched voice as that of the fat Keeper. "He has not spoken a single word, Keeper of the Cellars .  Why have you been in the Halls and know he is here?" "I was bringing scouring sand to the apprentices and students when I saw him come in here.   He is well known to me, our clans are old allies.  Do you want me to take this offender now and punish him or should I simply take him to the outside for you?" "Why are you so eager to take on duties that are not yours?" the Head Keeper then made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "Do not answer! I heard enough lies from you. " Before another word could be spoken a new voice said with great alarm in his voice." The Nephew of the Cellar Keeper has fallen off the scaffolding in the Halls and is dead!"

Hearing this shocked me to the core and I turned to stare at the newcomer. A keeper I had not seen before stood there out of breath, "Before falling, he cried out speaking of failing his chief and the Cellar keeper.  And sir, he did not look as a body that slipped and fell."

I felt guilty for not thinking of that possibility and wondered if the Lindholm clan chief was as bad as my father and made the boy end his life or did he fall because he was afraid of heights and made a mistake while climbing down. The First Guardian spoke." You stay here Eric. I shall attend to this grave matter.  We still need to talk so wait here." He walked by me and said. "I know what transpired earlier!" To the fat man, he said." You, however, shall come along."

I was suddenly alone in the Chambers, there was no time for me to rest and sort out a solution. As soon as I started to see some light at the end of the tunnel something new would happen. Maybe I should have not been so eager to come here. The evil doings of my own father and his schemes had caused the death of that boy, but I was the reason. I did not know him, but I felt ultimately responsible for his death. Was I worth all this? Would my mother be still alive if she didn't have me? Or maybe instead of me, she had a girl that meant nothing to my father, since a girl could not inherit. Grandfather most certainly would not have made a girl his heir. Who else would have to die before my father reached his goal?

Maybe I should simply abandon my desire to kill him and kill myself instead. My death now, before majority, would most certainly end my father's quest of the Ragnarsson riches. Also being dead I would not dream of my mother and how she died. I still had the knife, a quick cut across my throat would only be painful for a few moments and nothing in comparison to the pain he inflicted on me with a single whiplash. "Don't even think about it." Said someone and as I turned the Old guardian stood there. I did not hear the door open or close. He was definitely a ghost, one that could read minds. "You are a ghost, Old Man. You can see inside my mind. Tell me do the dead see other dead? Would I be able to talk with my mother and hold her hands?"

"Seeing you standing there, with the knife to your throat does not take supernatural powers to deduct what you wanted to do.  I have no knowledge about after death existence, but I am almost certain that those who commit suicide do not go to the same place as those who got murdered.   That is if there is such a thing as life after death!" I had not realized I had the knife already pulled. I lowered it. "If you are no ghost why is it no one knows about you, there can't be two First Guardians, and what about the empty house we used last night!" "I am not a ghost Eric, and I am well known here."

There was a loud crashing noise that made me turn. The door flew open as the fat man came in, his face deep red and full of anger. Breathing heavily, holding a sword pointed at me, and he yelled breathlessly, "Before I am thrown out of here, I'll make sure you are dead. It was originally a deal for riches, now because of my nephew's death, it is personal!  Do you have any idea what it means to be thrown from here?   Why couldn't you just die as we had planned?  Never minded, I will remedy that once and for all now!"

I had about enough being pushed around by others and shoved into situations I didn't have control of, I just wanted to be left alone, but I hissed at him, "I frankly don't give a damn anymore.  You big, fat, excuse of a man!  A coward, who sent a boy to do your dirty work.  So fat you could not get that sorry ass of yours up the scaffold. I bet you don't need to walk those stairs back down, you'll roll just fine!"

He was fat and lumbering however he was armed and a grown man, he howled in anger, "I don't know who you are, old man, but I am going to kill that unwanted Olafson brat!" I threw a heavy chair in the way of the approaching sword-wielding keeper, looking over my right shoulder I yelled, "Then if you're no ghost Old Man, you better get behind me."

The fat keeper stumbled and slammed the sword into the chair splintering precious and expensive wood. I glanced beyond him, I could see down the long corridor, and the white-bearded Keeper, accompanied by three others, was hurrying toward us. The Fat man hearing them also lunged forward while screaming and cursing at me, "I kill you now, you stinking brat!"

Backed up against the big desk with no escape route, he would reach me before I could get around the corner of the desk. One sweep of the sword and I would be mortally wounded, knowing how sharp and strong it was from the destroyed chair. By pure instinct and reflect, I pulled the knife and threw it underhanded. It flipped once hitting precisely with it point buried deep in his right chest. It was death-dealing, as it pierced his tunic buried to the hilt, there would be no saving him.

He gargled, his momentum carrying him forward but his sword missed me, striking the surface of the desk as he sank to his knees right before me. He dropped the sword and clutch at the knife but failing to pull it from his chest. He looked at me with an expression of pure unadulterated hate and sheer pain. I heard the Old man speak behind me. "Your aim was fast and true young Eric.  Stand easy and relax.!" At the same moment, the white-bearded Guardian and his companions reached the Chambers and stormed inside. The fat man, still on his knees turned and whined," I am hurt! The cursed Olafson spawn has stuck me with his knife!"