Ilvar's Redemption: A Short Story

Ilvar’s Redemption
Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I duck under my opponent’s sword. The blow nearly misses my head. I bash him with my shield and go for a powerful overhead blow with my weapon. He blocks my strike, and quickly counters with a piercing stab at my stomach. I block the attack just in time, but hear a harsh crack coming from my shield. I absorb the blow and parry his sword and attempt to counter with a backhand slash. I hit the enemy’s arm, but no permanent damage is done. I am immediately smacked by the shield of my opponent and slammed to the ground. An overhead strike of my adversary’s sword approaches me at a furious speed. I block the blow in a futile attempt to stifle my opponent. My shield explosively splits in two

as my body recoils from shock. I hear the blaring of a goat horn, and my opponent lowers his weapon.
“Alright break it up, don’t kill him Jurgen.”, said Grimlock, the village battle chief.

“What was that Ilvar? Your new shield already broke? You made it only 12 moons ago!”, Jurgen said, as he picked me up off the ground. “I will say that you gave my arm a good thrashing, probably would have chopped it off we weren’t using these stupid wooden

swords.”
“You need to work on your form Ilvar, you shouldn’t be getting knocked off guard so easily. What’s going to happen when we go to war?”, said Grimlock.
“Not like that’s happening anytime soon, the kingdom of Northumbria has been at peace for many seasons.” I said.
“A prepared warrior always expects battle.”, said Grimlock.

“Yes sir, chief.” I said half-heartedly.
I make it back to my home, still bruised from training, staring at my broken shield. Not my best work. But after my humiliating defeat I am determined to make a shield fit for a true warrior. I manage to cut a fresh piece of wood from the forest before dark. I drag the timber to my house right as the sun sets. I lay the wood on my workstation and light the fire pit, ready to begin my night of work…
The wood has been cut into planks, 20 inches in the center, and strapped together with leather. It is sanded all around, making a perfectly circular shape. In the center is a forged iron plate from my old shield, still strong even after the incident this morning. Around the plate is an ancient Celtic Knot of my ancestors, which symbolizes the infinite cycle of life that God created. Around the outside there is a painted brown ring that symbolizes the earth and soil. In the center around the iron plate it is painted blue. The deep blue color symbolizes the waters of life. I admire my newly crafted shield and delight in the perfect shape the shield

forms.
Suddenly I hear the sound of men screaming just outside, towards the shore. They sound like battle cries. I then hear a battle horn’s tone roar across the village. Our village is being attacked. But by who? We aren’t full of riches. We aren’t York. What could the tribes want with us? These thoughts race through my mind as I swiftly gear up for battle. Soon I am fully equipped. Body wrapped in chainmail, sword on my side, and my pristine half-painted shield in hand, I sprint outside, and investigate the disturbance. My heart sinks into my I look towards the shore and see thousands of foreign vessels on the water. The ships aren’t from any surrounding tribes. These ships are from the Vikings, the powerful heathen warriors from the Western lands. I’ve only heard stories of their ferocious conquests. My heart beats in my chest with powerful force as I sprint toward the shore and draw my sword, ready for battle.