Thundershield

Chapter 1

'No little brother. Ya don't hold an axe like that' Olaf said to his little brother Ragnar. 'Ya have to hold it wit a stiff wrist. Look.'

Olaf took the hand axe from his little brother and showed him exactly how to hold an axe, adding in a downward swing deep into the old fence post next to them.

'See? Now if I ain't of been holding the axe tight I coulda damn near broke me wrist so ya see Ragnar?' Olaf said looking down at Ragnar with a huge grin on his face.

Olaf was a bear of a man even though he was only eighteen winters old. He chose to have his head shaven bald even though it was custom to have at least shoulder length hair by the time of entering manhood.

Though Olaf often retorted to this saying 'Kord's balls to it! I've more hair on my face than any of the tribe!'

This was in reference to his massive, blond and braided beard which was rare for someone so young to be able to grow. Though everything was usually larger than average when it came to Olaf, were one to believe the rumours. He was Ragnar's eldest brother. Born youngest in a family of three boys didn't make life easy. However, like any Northern family they were utterly loyal to each other above all else. When he wasn't busy, Olaf would regularly teach Ragnar the ways to becoming a warrior. He was a rough teacher in the way an older brother only could be, yet even as young as Ragnar was he knew it was better this way and appreciated it as it made him stronger.

'Yeah yeah I see how it done. Now gimme it, I wanna try!' Ragnar answered hopping from foot to foot with the impatience of a child.

'Ha ha, Kord's blood really does flow in your veins little brother' Olaf laughed. 'But that is enough for the day. The sun draws near the horizon and you Ragnar must go help mother with the supper.'

Ragnar frowned and crossed his arms, 'Why do I always have to help mother? That is not the job of a warrior!'

Olaf grinned and replied, 'Cause LITTLE brother, while you may now know how to hold an axe properly you is still away off from being a warrior.'

'And' Olaf added with an even broader grin 'shit rolls down hill now get going before I kick you in the arse.'

Ragnar puffed out his chest challengingly and said, 'Pfft! Like to see you try ya big ogre!'

Olaf took a sudden step towards Ragnar. The younger boy startled, turned and then ran towards the family stead.

Olaf shouted after him laughing, 'Seems ya are smarter than ya look!'

Laughing to himself for a moment he stood watching his baby brother running up towards their mother who was outside their stead already preparing the evening's meal. He took a deep breath before pulling out the axe from the fence pole and following in his brother's wake towards their stead.

***

Several months had past and Ragnar was out collecting firewood with his other brother Vilgrid. Vilgrid was the middle child and it seemed Olaf got all the mass and muscle of Ragnar's two older siblings.

Vilgrid was fourteen winters old yet was tall for his age. However, he was quite scrawny when compared to his fellow Northmen. This meant he had to rely more on speed, technique and skill when it came to the petty fights and spars a boy had to endure growing up among the northern tribes. He had long black hair which he always wore down and unkempt. This made him not so popular with the young maidens of the tribe, but this did not seem to bother Vilgrid, too much.

Due also to his lack of bulk he had decided to train more with a bow rather than the traditional option of a sword or an axe. The bow was seen as a lesser weapon among the Northern tribes so Vilgrid took to his training with such zeal the he was, even at the young age of fourteen winters one of the tribe's greatest shots.