Day three, sunrise – Magnus was out, down by the shipyard appraising the defenses, making sure the pits were camouflaged well; checking on the archers with blunt rounds, ensuring they are clear of each other, and that ship components have been moved so they do not interfere with the shooting lanes. Lastly, ensuring the archer warning pits are prepped and loaded for torching when the time is ripe.


    Is?lde has come down to watch Magnus prepare for the upcoming battle. She notices his eyes looking and darting from one spot on the shore, up toward the village road, back to the shipyard proper, back, and forth...like he is walking through different outcomes, covering all of the possibilities in his head. She sidles up next to him, arms crossed and nestled across her ribs. "What are you thinking, Magnus?"


    "Oh" he drawls out, "just looking around to make sure we will have coverage for defense, in the rare instance any one from Sigurds gaggle of fools make it past me and the shipyard team. Unlikely, but plan for the best, prepare for the worst. That''s one of grandfather Bj?rn''s tenets. Sound advice. How are you – what are your thoughts?"


    "Well, one question – how do you know when the Jarls'' and his men will arrive?"


    Magnus grinned, "See the large pit at the edge of the shipyard, the one nobody is standing around?"


    "Yes"


    "We have a series of archers set up in the treetops, lined along the coast, that are watching the likely landing spots for any good, bad, or indifferent people. The archers are the best in the village, and when someone lands, the first archer to notice shoots an arrow to the next archer, who shoots an arrow to the next archer, and so on – the last archer shoots a fiery arrow into that pit there, to light the wood dowsed in oil. Once that is alight, we know that something is coming. If Sigurd lands where we think he will, the archer warning will give us over an hour to be ready for his arrival. How is that for genius?"


    At that moment, a fire arrow landed in the pit igniting the wood...shortly followed by one more fiery projectile. "30 minutes folks, Sigurd will be here in a half hour!" Magnus moved toward the shore to stand on the scaffold, next to one of the boats under construction, so he could get a better view of the shoreline. The rest of the village dropped whatever tasks they were performing and moved into position. All of the tools of the war trade had already been put into position. The blunt archers strung their bows and double checked their arrow stock. The blunts were arrows weighted with small, metal, flat plates instead of broadheads. The plates had just enough surface area that they would not normally pierce the skin; and the bows were set up with a lower draw weight, but they could still kill if they hit you right. They definitely deterred most people, as the enemy could not tell that the 35 archers looking at you, did not have broadheads loaded in the weapon.


    The pit markers were moved...under normal circumstances, the pits were covered with stout wooden lids...so you couldn''t fall in. When they were to be used for defending the village, they were marked with some small stakes, just as a reminder that the pits were primed. These were not anything except empty holes, about eight feet deep – not sharpened stakes dipped in feces or anything like that. They were just used to keep people out of a fight after they fall in, to be released after the invaders get their asses kicked.


    The final piece of the force du jour (look it up...) were the trained warriors. Bo staffs, mallets, and shields all prepped to break bones in case the archers did not scare the attackers off – which was normally the case, some Vikings are not very bright. The highly skilled operators were the last line of defense, but of course, in the nearly impossible chance that anyone made it past them, the veterans and the trainee warriors were more than likely to dispatch any of those perpetrators.


    "Gunther" Magnus shouted, "get my heavy Bo staff and tell everyone else...we'' going for blood. Sigurd and many of his men are possessed. This has escalated, get the children and non-combat trained out of the village, we are initializing plan B."


    Is?lde ran over to Magnus, "What in the seven levels of heaven is going on Magnus?"


    "I can see the smokey auras, Is?lde. Sigurd is the darkest, and a lot of his men have the lighter fire...at least twelve or fifteen of them.  Uh, it seems like I am going to have to instigate single combat as soon as I can. I am sure our best warriors can take out all of the lesser demon''s, no problem...but I can''t take any chances, and I don''t want the demon to use his demon powers to hurt any of my family."


    "How do you know Sigurd''s demon will accept single combat, Magnus?"


    "Through the ages, the tales speak of demons, requesting single combat, because they presumably aren''t patient...they like to fight one on one. The demon requests single combat of the Odinsson leader – but in the end, they clearly didn''t know who they are fighting with, the demon gets killed and the minions turn to smoke...or something – it always seemed to work out. The caveat here, Odinssons'' have always been the attacker, never the attacked. The demons seem to have a strict code, that if single combat is proclaimed, there are rules that must be followed, otherwise they will probably be destroyed by the All Father. I gotta'' feeling, this is what I need to do."


    "Okay Magnus, if you do have that feeling, you need to call off the evacuation. If you have that feeling in your guts, and it''s the All Father talking, if you evacuate, it is like you are not trusting in Him...call off the evacuation and fight Sigurd – that is what you need to do."


    "Oh, Is?lde I know what you are saying, but it hurts my spirit to know I am not being cautious...Gunther" Manus shouted, "call off plan B but hurry the hell up an get me my heavy Bo staff!"


    Magnus was keeping his eye on the coast, watching the western side of the shipyard – slowly edging toward the village, angling toward a large open spot between the ship scaffolds and his little hut. It was flat and mostly compact sand, a great spot for a fight. Gunther came running down to the shipyard with Magnus'' heavy Bo staff as the first of the enemy heads were peaking up over the sand dunes. This mammoth Bo staff was a seven-foot piece of Ash hardwood with veins of iron running up the shaft, every 90 degrees. The ends were set with heavy iron spikes, perfect for stabbing.


    Magnus turned and looked at his family, a scowl running across his brow, he gave the family a head nod, saying ''I got this''. "Is?lde, please make sure my auntie is kept calm – she tends to get a bit agitated. I''ll be back shortly." Magnus moved away from Isolde and Isolde moved toward auntie Hilde. The electric tension was about ready to blow.


    Magnus could now see fully the forces that Sigurd had brought to bear. It was clear that Oskar had gone, and full blown sold his soul. Magnus witnessed Oskar next to Sigurd, the two demons bickering under whispered breath, he could see the smokey aura and the creepy eyes that now peered from Oscar''s brutish brow. The force was fifty yards away and closing, the demon''s bickering coming to an end - and Oskar''s impatience was clear as he broke away from the formation, charging Magnus with his short sword and shield, poised for bloodletting.


    Sigurd pursed his lips and shook his head in dismay at the apparent defiance of one of his minions – but he also did not stay the possessed man either. Oskar moved across the ground at speeds much greater than a human could attain, with his short sword raised in his right hand and shield bound to his left arm, his intent clear. The moment Oskar was within reach of Magnus'' heavy Bo staff - he simply swept the staff to his left, pushing aside the sword, spinning counter clock-wise and moving slightly to his right, and as he drew back for a swing, letting the staff slide up his grip so he had the force of the entire seven feet of hard wood, and swung the staff so the iron tip hit Oskar right at the base of the skull, severing the spine, and dropping him dead, d – e – d dead. The look on the demon''s face, Sigurds face – confused and priceless.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    Magnus finished with a short spinning flourish ending with the staff in his right hand, running parallel to his forearm, behind his back. "Sigurd" Magnus bellowed, "this ends here...you and me, quie est homo – single combat."


    "Oh, ho Magnus" Sigurd mused, "so, you think you are going to call me out? I really have no idea what you are talking about. Your village must learn it''s place – you are nothing Magnus, you are here to serve your betters, and we are going to use your family as an example to the rest of the villages."


    "I know the rules Sigurd, or whoever you are. This isn''t my family''s first "ship build", we''ve been fighting your kind for generations demon. I call on the right to single combat. Your ass hattery will end here, today."


    Demon Sigurd''s face twisted into a rictus of confusion and anger, he was now twice as befuddled and confused as before. "So, you can ''see'' me?" the demon asked, his eyes squinting, like he was asking a painful question that he already knew the answer to. "And ass hattery...what in the devil, literally, is that?"


    "Yes, you goat loving shat sack, I can – don''t'' worry about being an ass hat, it''s in your makeup, it''s what makes you, you. Besides, you should have asked around before you started this garbage, even Oskar knows you don''t mess with Odinsson''s. We''ve a reputation beyond these shores, for being able to build boats and the kick ass, folks don''t mess with us – I would have thought you''d figured that out...although something has recently seemed a bit off about you and your village, now I know why. So, don''t give me any shit about not knowing single combat, and bring your sorry, sadistic ass up here for a beating."


    Now, Sigurd was fully annoyed – with himself. Magnus was correct, he, the demon, did not really know anything about his chosen enemy. His mind began churning up some long-lost memories of a northern family that had been wreaking havoc on his brethren...for several generations. Sigurd unslung his claymore from his back as he stalked to meet with Magnus, shrugged off the sheath and his fur''s. As soon as he stepped into the proverbial ring – Sigurd struck with the speed of a puma, and the strength of a bear.


    Magnus was chanting under his breath, praying to the All Father to give him strength, speed, and resolve – as Sigurd moved to strike, Magnus could feel a tingling in his body, urging him to move at just the right time, Magnus pivoted left and swung his staff up to deflect the strike. Sigurd was deflected off and turned to see that Magnus had already reset his position, prepared for the next strike. Sigurd was utterly confused, this demon form had never missed a strike, never, and here was Magnus ready for round two. This was not processing in Sigurd''s mind – he kept waiting for the slo-mo of Magnus'' torso to slide off of the waist...Sigurd had never missed.


    Now enraged, Sigurd was stalking, circling slowly to his left. His claymore was poised low, off of his left hip...circling. Magnus, chanting never ceasing his battle hymn, began to spin his staff. Practiced movements that were as natural to him now as breathing. Even Is?lde had never seen a person with such perfected movements. Sigurd struck again, his telegraphed strike easily blocked by Magnus'' practiced swing, but Sigurd struck again, and again, and again. Magnus watching and feeling the attack angles and speed from his opponent, little nuances giving Magnus feedback of what Sigurd would do next. Another flurry of strikes from Sigurd and Magnus had worked him to where he wanted, Magnus spun his staff across his back and ducked the next strike from Sigurd and turned the tables.


    Spinning to his right, Magnus gave a full swing of his staff across Sigurd''s shoulders followed by a battery of strikes, and a stab to Sigurds throat. Sigurd dropped to his knees and limply grabbed the staff in a futile effort to pull it out. Magnus stepped close, and put his left foot on Sigurds chest, and pushed – Sigurd fell limply to the ground, across his dropped sword – the crowd erupted in a cheer...all except Is?lde, she looked at Magnus, like, ''what are you doing stupid''?


    Magnus turned to see Sigurd pushing himself up off of the ground, picking up his sword, "One" Sigurd croaked out, "I will give you one, now it''s my turn..."


    The brutality of the next set of strikes was nothing short of cataclysmic. Sigurd pounded on Magnus and his staff, strike after powerful strike – Magnus could not gain any ground to build a defensive position, let alone attack, he was in survival mode. Magnus could still feel that tingling – a sixth sense in his body, little impulses to his hands and feet guiding him to avoid or block the oncoming strikes, it was time to let them be his guide.


    Magnus rolled backward after Sigurds next powerful overhand strike and prepared himself to defend. Sigurd, seeing his enemy standing tall, began chopping at him like a lumberjack – chop, chop, chop...but Magnus timed his blocks perfectly, and positioned his staff to take the blows – chop, chop, chop...Magnus'' staff was cut in half! Sigurd chopped again but missed. He raised his claymore, putting all of his strength into one final blow, as he paused at the peak of his strike, Magnus had already flipped the staff pieces around in his hands and staking Sigurds right foot to the ground and planting the other half into his left thigh. Incredulously, Sigurd looked Magnus in the eye, as Magnus stepped around the back of Sigurd, his left arm wrapping around his throat while disarming him with his right.


    Magnus brutally shucked Sigurd to the ground – that was awkward since his right foot had been pinned – Magnus was now holding the claymore in his hands. "No, no!" Sigurd shouted, "this isn''t how this happens..."


    Magnus, eyeing the crowd, he pursed his lips in a ponderance, "I guess you have to cut off the head...who knew? Well, we should probably clear that up with the next generation." Magnus stepped forward and finished the single combat.


    The crowd was not as eager to voice their praise this time – the village felt like they had won, but ya'' know, Sigurd stood up last time he got a pointy thing in his throat - now the tortured sounds of Sigurds demonic minions began to fill the stunned silence. The possessed humans were going through various episodes of writhing as their bodies began to dissipate into smoke. Each one, leaving a greasy spot on the ground where they had just been standing.


    Aunt Hilde was the first one to break the second round of stunned silence – "Magnus, watch those worthless home wreckers...they aren''t all demons, but that doesn''t mean they aren''t moronic brutes."


    Magnus turned to look down the beach to survey the mob. The remaining men and women were all armed, but they were also just as stunned as everyone else. Magnus beckoned over his shoulder, reaching out like he was pulling his lieutenants up close to him. "Spread out guys" he told them, "Take it easy, we are all a bit confused, Sigurds people that are left, more so. Calm them, back pats or whatever – gently sheath or holster their weapons."


    Magnus pointed and shouted out to the big man closest to him, several yards back from the edge of the fight, "Hey there big man, look at me please..." the big man shaking his head like he was clearing a sleepy stupor, "oh, there ya'' go – yeah, what you just saw was real, and it was all real for your friends there." Magnus paused, the big man from Sigurds crew stopped and turned around, his back to Magnus. The crew were in turn just simply looking at each other, not quite believing what actually happened, even though there were more than just a few witnesses.


    "Uh, okay now guys, not really sure what to tell you – but Sigurd, this Sigurd was a man that sold his soul to the devil, you know Helheim, devils, and all that?" Magnus was trying to explain, and yet still not instigate additional violence. "What''s your name big man, turn back around, let''s have a chat, okay?" The big man sheathed his sword, "I am Jonas. Magnus, what was that?  Sigurd had changed some time back, getting all weird and crazy over the smallest things. Then, when we heard he wanted to raid your village, we...apparently the ones not possessed, were too afraid to say anything to him, for fear of death. Sigurd had already killed many of our friends, brutally. We are sorry to come here, but we were all so afraid of that brutal man – thing, whatever, we just went along with the madness hoping to survive."


    The big man, and his companions looked both relieved and afraid, not sure what to do next. Magnus signaled his people to stand down and eased his way over to Jonas, facing him, put one hand on each shoulder. Magnus looked up to the others, and signaled for them to circle around, and proceeded to explain to them the truth – demon''s, the All Father, all of it.


    Meanwhile, Aunt Hilde began to bring the village back together. The pits covered, weapons stowed, food prepared – all the important things that needed to happen when people have just found out the world, they thought they knew, was really not. The people of Elg Hjem would do what they could to ease the burden of these other villagers, their brothers, and sisters, as they welcomed them to the truth.


    Magnus briefly explained to the people of Deep Wood what they had witnessed. He did not have time to personally explain everything to them, so he sent a contingent of lightly armed warriors and some warrior priests with the small fleet, back to their home. It would not be easy explaining a lifetime of belief and culture was not what it really seemed.