"LEFT!" Half-born yelled. I ducked under a boulder just as the ground I had been standing on was turned into a ten foot deep trench. The thirty foot giant lifted his club and swung for my boulder. "RIGHT!" Half-born yelled. Not wanting to be made into a pancake, I leaped to the right and landed behind a tree. The giant stepped toward me and I knew it was hopeless. "SIDEWAYS!" Half-born yelled.

"What?!" I looked around and saw that I was surrounded by stone. "I CANT GO SIDEWAYS!" Just as I said that, a burst of red splattered me in the face. I heard some slashing, slicing, and dicing. The thud of of metal on flesh sent chills down my spine. Then a tremendous 'Thud!' Shook the earth.

"You can open your eyes now," Half-born said, "but you may want a washrag." I opened my eyes and saw what my berserker friend had done. I brought my hand to my face then looked. My hand was tainted red as...blood. Great, I thought, utterly disgusting. I looked at the giants corpse.

His feet had literally been hacked off and his throat was slit. "Not bad," I noted, "but next time, can you avoid getting blood in my face?"

He chuckled. "Come on. Let's set up camp."

After we set up our tents and got a nice fire going, night had fallen early, as it often did in Jotunheim, and the temperature had dropped deeply. Half-born pulled out his battle axe and slowly drew Bolverks whetstone across the blade.

I noticed his only shirt had been shredded during the battle, and he hadn't seemed to care. I looked over his chest and saw a lot of scars. There were to many to count. "Where did you get those scars?" I asked using my super powers of hiding what I actually wanted to ask.

His shoulders tightened and he set down his axe. "Battle scars." He said. He stroked his beard wistfully. "I told you I died fighting in a viking invasion if east Anglia. I took twenty arrows to the chest protecting my thane Ivar the boneless. I didn't die early into our invasions." I noticed he had tens of other scars. He pointed to a deep scar on his bicep. "Axe blade," he ran his fingers over the scarred skin, "It was an invasion on....France I believe." He noticed my skeptical look. "Yes the vikings also invaded France."

"OK tell me more." I said. He chuckled deeply and flicked the tip of his axe blade.

"We had made camp after a successful raid on a French village. One of the free survivors made his way to the capital and main kingdom. I don't remember what it was called. It might have been Paris but I'm getting sidetracked. The survivor alerted the king and the king launched a group of about thirty men. When I was sleeping, one of the scouts gave a battle cry. I woke up and ran outside my tent. The French didn't expect there to be so many of us but they didn't want to die."

He looked me in the eyes. "I ran to Ivar's hut and fought off the French fighters that were trying to bust down the door. They all charged at once and I didn't notice one sneak up and use an axe he'd stolen from one of our scouts, and slashed my arm deep. I roared in anger and swung my axe blade in an arc. Red, dead, bye bye heads."

I shuddered. "What about the other scars?" I asked. The firelight made Half-born's seem to glow fire red. He tossed a twig in and watched it burn.

"You'd be surprised how much you learn in battle." He said to me, "Like never trust a snake. Also how to not trust some people to much, you never know who may stab you in the back." He put a piece of meat over the flames. "I never knew how horrifying battle could be. One time, I told a friend my berserker weakness. Berserkers had only one weakness. Each of us had a different spot. If you were hit there you were temporarily stunned. I told this man who I trusted with my life where mine was."

He wiped away a tear. "It was a big mistake. He turned out to be an enemy spy. He knew I would try to stop him from killing Ivar. So he found me and I realized he was not a friend. I exposed his secret and he grinned. He clarified that I was right. He fought me. He fought hard and well, but when I put my gaurd down for one second, he leaped and kicked my weak spot. He laughed and ran off. Just as I was falling I had just enough strength to throw my axe and kill him."

"Oh," I said at a loss for words. "I'm glad you told me big guy. Its getting late let's hit the hay." I lay down in my sleeping bag by the fire. Half-born stayed sitting on his log.

"The back of my knee cap." He said.

"What?" I asked I was baffled at his words.

"My berserker weakness. I haven't told anyone ever, afraid they'd betray me. But I trust you Magnus. I give you my word. In all battles you fight, I will fight beside you." He made a fist and tapped his chest. "Good night Magnus"

"Good night Half-born." I watched as he lay down in his sleeping bag. I turned over and the last thought I heard before slipping into the bliss of slumber was the most disturbing I'd felt in days.

Is there a traitor in my new family?