Tyr found, not entirely to his surprise, that Odin had picked only gambeson wearing einherjar to be trained by him. They stood in a dejected mess, as they had been beaten a few minutes ago. Nevertheless, Tyr greeted them with a smile.

“Hail brave warriors of Asgard! I am Tyr, and for the next month, I have been allowed to train you to be greater warriors…”

“What’s the point, we won’t be able to beat those who have better arms than we do.” Someone softly spoke in the back.

“To the disparager in the back who thinks weapons are all that determine the outcome of a fight, I respectfully disagree, and encourage him to either keep his thoughts to himself while others talk or learn to speak softer. In fact, why don’t you step forward.”

Tyr watched the group act a little shocked that he called the man out and watched as the man slowly walked forward with his head down.

“What is your name warrior?”

“Brjann Haraldurson.” The man, said, looking up now with defiance that he did not show before. The man was a bit on the bulky side, but there was no doubt that it was muscle rather than simple fat.

“Why are you so certain that the only thing that keeps you from winning is that your opponents have better weapons?”

“Because we are einherjar. We are the best warriors that ever lived and only Thor can surpass us.”

“Is that so? Oi, you on the end, bring me a pot lid and an iron spit as quick as you can please.”

As the man ran off Tyr turned back to Brian and continued talking.

“What if I told you I know of mortals that could beat you? That even with what I saw in the field today, getting better weapons would not increase your chances of victory by even one fifth?”

“Were you not a jarl of the Aesir, I would say that you were an arrogant liar that needed to be taken down a peg.”

“And at this point we are nearly at an impasse. That is until the young man reaches us with what I asked for.”

The einherjar ran up to Tyr and held the objects out.

“I grabbed what you asked for my jarl, as well as a piece of rope so as to tie the potlid to your arm.”

“You guessed my intentions, well done.” Tyr said kindly. Then, Tyr tied the potlid to his right arm and took the iron spit in his left hand testing the weight.

Wouldn’t want this unbalanced thing on the battlefield, but it will serve for this occasion.

Tyr then presented the items for Brian to look at.

“Tell me Brjann, are your weapons superior to these?”

“Yes.” Brjann said hesitantly.

“Then let us do a quick match, you with your weapons and me with these items.”

“But…your taller than I am.”

“Let us just fight and see who will emerge victorious.”

Tyr stepped back a little way from Brjann and raised his iron spit in a salute before Brian made a move towards him. Brjann had shifted his Gambanteinn into a sword before he swung his arm in a wide downward slash, throwing his shield arm as for behind him as possible. Tyr caught the swing at angle with the potlid and thrust the spit from underneath to impact the nose guard of Brjann’s helmet. Brian took a step back, dazed from the blow, and Tyr finished him off with a diagonal strike to Brjann’s shoulder which forced Brian to his knees.

“The battle is mine.”

“It wasn’t fair. Like I said you are taller.”

“And that is supposed to mean what exactly, that I am supposed to be stronger? This is counterbalanced by the fact that I am a bigger target. And perhaps you all have forgotten why you’re here? Ragnarök. You remember that it is coming, but do you remember who your enemies are? Who you are supposed to fight? No doubt there will be a few mortals there, but most will be the Jotunar, the giants of who I am in considered small when standing next to. Will you avoid them come time to fight? True, there are supposed to be draugr as well, but draugr can be larger with the average mortal, whose height you guys share. As einherjar who will face the Jotunar come Ragnarök, you should have been more prepared to face a larger opponent, not less.”

Tyr looked over the einherjar as he spoke, some looked dejected, others angry at him, but a few were intently listening.

“You all are here because I believe that with proper training, your chances of winning against your enemies in your will improve. Furthermore, you all have forgotten the ability to fight as a group. If this can be restored, even an einherjar equipped with his custom gear will struggle to win.”

“Jarl Tyr, this is all well and good, but what is the point? If we can defeat those who stand against us, which is skeptical at best, will we not simply turn on one another to get the reward?”

“For special purposes, Odin has agreed that if you lot can win, you will all be rewarded as if you had won that mess you fought earlier today.”

“And if we lose?” Brjann asked.

“Then you will go about your business as before and will not be required to do this again.”

This got the attention of most of the einherjar, their thoughts were plan as day to Tyr: they would use those around them to their benefit.

Well, it’s a start.

“There is one more thing dear sirs, and that is that I will be training you lot personally. I will not be asking of you what I would not ask of myself…” Tyr saw many roll their eyes before they perked up when he finished “…If fact, I will be training alongside you. I will eat when you eat, and you will rest when I rest. Now, if there are no further questions, then we will start at once: Ten laps around Valhalla, move!”

Tyr dragged a few to their feet and soon got them all running, with he himself moving between the back and the front to keep them in rows. After they finished running their laps Tyr had them do combat training which he took great pleasure in correcting their forms.

“If you throw your shield behind your back, then it will be of no use to you. Keep it right next to your sword when you swing to protect yourself, like I did in my fight with Brian.” He told one einherjar, who nodded and corrected his style. Tyr smiled as he walked away from the young man who continued to train.

They really were good warriors, so they are quickly returning to their former skill. So why were they so bad in the match?

“You two, take a quick break and Red, come with me.” Tyr said to the einherjar closest to him as he walked past. Once Tyr and the einherjar he had called Red were a ways away from the group, Tyr turned and asked the einherjar.

“First, I would like to apologize for simply referring to you as ‘Red’. May I ask what you name is?”

“It is Roth.”

Tyr blinked in mild shock.

“That means red.”

“I know.”

“Yes well, anyway, do you know why the einherjar fought the way they did this morning? You guys are catching onto this training rather quickly, so I was wondering the fight was…the way it was.”

“When many first come to Valhalla, they try to keep training, but once they are defeated in their first several matches, they simply don’t see the point. Their death will be temporary and there is a chance that the higher geared will simply wipe each other out first so someone like us could get a lucky hit in. Other than that, Odin switches up who are in what groups, so there is a chance that there will be no better geared.”

“So that is how it is.” Tyr mused to himself.

“What is on your mind jarl?”

“The armor I have seen used by the ‘higher’ einherjar have been scale and chainmail, are there any other types used? I mean that use metal.”

“No, in fact I didn’t know there was other types of metal armor.”

“May I see your Gambanteinn for a moment?”

Roth handed the wand to Tyr, who transformed into a sword. Tyr examined the sword’s type, a common design for the swords Vikings wielded, but not exactly ideal for facing an armored opponent. Tyr return the Gambanteinn to its original form, then, with some concentration, turned it back to a sword but as one with a thinner blade design. Tyr then turned the Gambanteinn into a staff and pushed to see how long it could become, which was for Tyr about the maximum length of a pike.

“Roth, do you think you all could make the Gambanteinns as long as this.”

“No sire, the Gambanteinn forms are designed to match the size of their wielder. Ours would be of a smaller size but perhaps similar in appearance to us as it is currently to you.”

“Let us return to the others, Roth. It is time to call it a day and get some food.”

Tyr returned the Gambanteinn to Roth and once the einherjar began to stop training and begin to move to the feasting hall, a thought struck him.

“Hold it men!” Tyr called out to the group as he walked to the front.

“It has come to my attention that many of you may take this opportunity to get drunk on ale. That will interfere with the training that we are doing and as such you are forbidden from getting drunk until after your fight.”

A loud cry went up among the einherjar, with one walking forward and jabbing his finger at Tyr.

“First you force us to run, then to do mock battles consisting of swordfights, now you will deny us the pleasures of our meals? What is next, force us to go without a lover’s comfort?”

“Not if said lover was your wife when you were alive. Look, I am not going to say you cannot have a drink of ale, I am only saying that you can’t have more than three, after which you will need to quench your thirst with water or milk. Drunkenness will cause you all not to be at your best, so it cannot be tolerated, and there will be punishment by doubling the training. Furthermore, there are two facts you should be aware of, the first being that since you are learning to fight as a group and are to be rewarded as a group, you will also be punished as a group.”

“What is the other fact?”

“That as of right now, you all have only done half a day’s training. Tomorrow, you will get a full day’s training. Dismissed.”

Tyr watched them go, practically all of them grumbling and wondering what they did to upset Odin to have him put them under Tyr’s command.

“Excuse me, jarl Tyr?”

One of the einherjar broke from the group and walked up to Tyr. Tyr greeted him and gestured for him to continue.

“My name is Haraldur Tryggson. I am Brjann’s father.”

“Your… your form is a lot younger than your son’s.”

“I died sooner than he did. I was wondering if you were serious about allowing those of our group who are married to spend time with our wives. See, my own wife is counted among the einherjar as well, but she did not fight today and…well…”

Tyr offered Haraldur a small smile.

“I currently see no reason to keep husbands from their wives for the sake of this training. Know however, that this is only for now. If problems arise, I will try to correct them. But for tonight, let the married men find blessings in the wives of their youth.”

Harold gave a small bow and went to join the rest.