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half price for a week.

The innkeeper was only too happy to do so, the extra income was welcome in an empty

inn. The three changed into their new armor and weapons. Then they got the wagon

and started moving towards the gate house. As they approached the gate house, Tyler

observed a group of rowdy men, some practicing and some seated on benches around the practice area.

“Men from the Champions of the Oak, my lord,” Jorund told him.

“What is that?”

“They fancy themselves to be Thor’s champions, the oak being Thor's sacred tree. But

only Helgi there is a true champion of the god. He has a blessed war hammer which

sends a small lightning bolt upon contact with an enemy. Haughty, as one would

expect. Though a good fighter and conducts nice marriage ceremonies.”

“Marriage ceremonies? What’s the relation of that to him being a Champion of Thor?”

“Thor is also the god of hallowing. So if one needs a marriage officiated or a place

blessed or hallowed, you find a Champion or priest of Thor.”

“Huh?” Tyler never imagined Thor to be such an advocate of marriage. His legend as a

womanizer was established. Or is it? Or maybe that's the popular or comic book version

of the god.

As they got closer to the gate, the man Jorund called Helgi noticed them.

“Hail the wagon! Stop!”

They stopped and waited for Helgi to come to them. They were the only wagon headed

for the gate house. They were bound to be noticed.

“Where to?”

“The Gap, my good friend. We intend to do some survey of the coming field of battle,”

Tyler answered.

“Are you a warrior?”

“No, a mage.”

“My lord, the Champions of the Oak don’t like mages,” Jorund whispered, “Their

primary deity is Thor. Mages belong to Odin.”

Oh, shit.

Helgi turned to his companions.

“Hear that, my friends? A MAGE! A great and powerful mage!”

The men stopped what they were doing and gathered in a group. Clearly intending to

watch Helgi’s current source of amusement.

“How about a friendly match, mage? A simple practice match. My war hammer against

your magic.”

This asshole must have a serious magical shield to consider fighting against a mage. Or

he’s really just an asshole with a thing against mages.

“Do we need to? One of us may be seriously hurt. That wouldn’t do with battle upon

us.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, mage. Or is it because you’re scared? I have met some

mages who were actually cowards. Or maybe you’re really just a seidr mage. We’ve got

plenty of them around now.”

“My lord, he insulted you! Honor demands you accept his challenge,” again whispered

Jorund, this time in an urgent and angry manner. Habrok was quiet but his eyes were

livid. Tyler noticed Habrok had already gripped the hilt of his sword. Jorund also had

removed his battleaxe and had lowered it to the floor of the wagon, within easy reach.

Tyler exhaled. He didn’t want or need this testosterone fight. It’s a waste of time. But it appears he'll have to accommodate the man.

“Okay. A friendly match then. Let’s go there,” he pointed to the practice area, “And let

them clear out a bigger field.”

Tyler walked to the field. Helgi took his position with his back to Scarburg’s wall.

Spectators began gathering around, Jorund and Habrok among them. Though Habrok

watched from the wagon as he kept an eye out for its contents.

“READY, MAGE?” shouted Helgi. He made the word “mage” sound like an insult.

Tyler thought about the situation. He can’t kill the man, he was needed by Scarburg.

Not to mention killing him would give rise to more complications, not only with the rest

of the so-called champions but also with the deity. He decided to just batter him into

submission. With that lightning empowered war hammer, he couldn’t allow the man to

get close to him. Tyler raised his staff to signify he was ready.

Helgi exploded in a burst of motion. A zigzag course towards Tyler, war hammer in

hand. The man didn’t even bother with a shield. Tyler observed him. As Helgi was

turning into another deviation in his course, Tyler hit him with an AWAY! spell. With some degree of control over the ability, Tyler was able to mitigate the force exerted.

The armored man slammed into the wall in a cloud of dust. Helgi was stunned but was

recovering fast. Tyler didn’t give him the chance to move any further. As with the Greek

demigod, he raised him with the LIFT! spell. But this time, he tried to hold on to the

man and released him when he had risen to twenty-five feet in the air. The man

plunged back to the ground, the noisy clatter of armor overwhelming the sound of the

impact on the dirt. The man’s war hammer had already fallen from his hands and his

helm also was gone. Tyler repeated the process but limited the height to only fifteen

feet. After that, only a gurgled moan could be heard.

“Healers! Take care of him!” shouted Tyler. Three men separated from the group of

spectators and ran to Helgi. Everybody was quiet while Tyler walked back to the wagon.

Jorund was already there.

“Let’s go to the gate house. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

As the wagon moved towards the gate house, the spectators’ attention were still

centered on the unconscious Helgi. Though few did watch them.

The gate house commander didn’t give them any trouble. After reading the letter given

by the war-mage, they were allowed to pass. A guide was sent with them to safely get

them across the trapped field. Signals and passwords to be exchanged when they are

returning were also given. They passed the deadly field without incident. After clearing

the barricades, the guide left with a large silver coin in his pocket.

“It’s your call now, Jorund. Take us to the site. But keep to the side of the Gap,” Tyler

told the man.

Jorund took the reins. The two were silent after the one-sided match. Tyler could see

Habrok looking at him when he thought Tyler wasn’t watching. Jorund’s reaction was

different, he noted. He clearly didn’t expect Helgi to be a good enough challenge for

Tyler. Like Tyler, he saw the match as a distraction. But it was the insult that mattered.

If anything, Tyler could have sworn Jorund thought the Champion as

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