by Per Holbo
Chapter 12: Tjalfe vs. Skrymer
The ground beneath Tjalfe began shaking wildly making the rubble on which he stood slide away under him at the terrible sound of Skrymer roaring out his infinitive rage! He had to be lying somewhere deep under the debris and for some strange reason he´d survived the devastation. Tjalfe reacted quick as lightning and slid his way down the mountain of scrap. Fortunately the dust cloud had by now almost vanished and he was fairly able to see his way down toward the floor of Brimir´s throne room. As soon as his feet hit the solid ground, he got up and looked around. Behind him the massive mountain was coming apart and debris of various sizes and shapes came rolling down in his direction from the very top. With a few fast steps he got himself moved away from the danger of being squashed flat under the heavy metal, but the sight of Skrymer´s hand moving out from the heap and stretching out at him made him look for an exit. There! The point of a Farbauter peeked inside the room through the hole it had made in the wall and by its edges it looked as if there was just enough room for him to squeeze through to the corridor. He´d just moved his one foot, when something grabbed hold of his other foot and started to pull. He lost his balance and hit his knee hard on the floor. In other circumstances the pain would have been unbearable, but the adrenaline rushing through his every vane enabled him to disregard it and turn around to look his attacker in the eyes. Here he met the blazing mad eyes of Skrymer, who held on fiercefully to his ankle. Skrymer was still half buried in the rubbles with only part of his upper body free and Tjalfe kicked his other foot repeatedly trying to hit the angry Yetten commander in his face, while tossing and turning his body to losing his attacker´s grip on his foot. Finally he managed to place a heavy boot print on the big Yetten´s forehead and Skrymer unwillingly let go as he put his hand on the red skin above his eye brows while roaring even louder than before. Tjalfe pulled himself back as far as he could with all the strength he had in him and got to a safe distance, but this only made Skrymer even angrier!
His eyes were lightening fire as he fixed them on Tjalfe as if his gaze alone would stop the human child from escaping. Then he shifted his focus to the mountain of metal holding him stubbornly to the ground and now Tjalfe knew he had to move quickly. It would only be a matter of time before he managed to loosen the metal´s grip on his body and there was no way of knowing if and when he would ever get a chance like this again!
Tjalfe´s hands slipped numerous times on the surface of the dusty floor as he frantically tried to get to his feet. He resisted the urge to look behind him to get an idea on how Skrymer was proceeding, got up and sprinted as fast as his feet would carry him. Over heaps of splintered columns and fallen down pieces of ceiling, around the throne that had turned over and landed in the middle of the room and over a couple of lifeless guards, whom he sincerely hoped would not decide that this was the time to wake up and do their duty. He reached the Farbauter and squeezed himself into the crack between the fighter and the opening that hadn´t been there earlier. The adrenaline flooded through his veins and he barely noticed his skin being ripped away by the sharp edges of the ragged wall leaving an open wound to drip stains of blood on the floor beneath him.
But suddenly he was stuck! He couldn´t move as much as an inch neither back or forth.
Skrymer, who had for a second begun to accept the fact that the boy was actually going to get away from the Yetten´s wrath had by now managed to wrest himself out of his predicament. He had gotten to his feet and gone after the boy with a limping, but realizing the tables had now turned and the boy was the one in trouble made him slow down a bit as he smiled viciously at the human child.
“Well, well!” he said with a mad look in his eyes reminding Tjalfe of the look of the Rusen just before they left on a quest and had been drinking mead. A blend of rage, ferocity and mocking that was one of the most effective weapons against their victims. The madness beamed from Skrymer and Tjalfe fought fiercely using every muscle in his body to squeeze his way through.
“Now you´re not as smug anymore, huh?” Skrymer bellowed with a savage like expression on his face, which was smudged in blood and dirt from the scrap heap he´d just managed to rid himself of. He took his time getting to Tjalfe. He wanted to make the most of this joyous moment, where the little rebellious brat would finally meet his destiny and get what he deserved... And he looked forward to letting everyone know that he, Skrymer, would be Tjalfe´s destiny. He, Skrymer, the greatest of all Yetten warriors, would be the downfall of Thor´s favorite pet!
Tjalfe had been trying so hard to get through the gap, but for every wriggle he ended up being even more stuck. The hull of the Farbauter lay heavy on his chest and the flossed edges of the gap in the wall cut him deep in his back and by now he found it almost impossible to breath.
It blackened before his eyes and he felt his consciousness leaving him as Skrymer came close enough to stretch his arm inside the gap in the wall trying to reach Tjalfe with his hand. Like in a dream he saw Skrymers massive paw grow bigger and bigger inside the narrow space and he had to realize that it was game over. He relaxed every muscle in his body, exhaled and waited for the inevitable... Riitsch... to his great relief he suddenly felt himself slip the rest of the way through the gap with ease and fell into the empty corridor.
“Noooo! Aaaargh!”
Skrymer, who had been so sure that he had Tjalfe exactly where he wanted him, cried like crazy as the boy slipped away and out of his grasp. He just couldn´t believe he had once again managed to elude him. He was so close and then all of the sudden, whoosh... he was gone?? It couldn´t be?? It was just wrong!!
In an amazing rage at the stinging defeat, Skrymer stretched his hand and his fingers as far as he could and closed his fingers around... nothing! And then in one final frustrating attempt the giant Yetten squeezed his body into the gap with all of his strength. Then he was stuck...
Tjalfe almost felt sorry for Skrymer as he stood there with his arm all the way inside the gap incapable of getting unstuck. The Yetten´s eyes alternately went from anger to frustration to a state of mind that resembled panic and then he had a remote look in his eyes while slipping mentally into himself as he moaned and cried in a way Tjalfe had never seen with an adult before.
Tjalfe shook his head to release himself from Skrymer´s gaze and stepped back a few paces. He felt both relieved and sad. Even the worst kind of people didn´t deserve to die like that, not even if it was a Yetten bend on taking over the entire galaxy, Tjalfe thought to himself. But there was nothing he could do. If he would even be able to somehow wedge Skrymer free, it would be like signing his own death sentence. No matter how much Tjalfe would treat him well, Skrymer was the kind of person, who would never return the favor and let him go. Tjalfe knew this and despite of his bad conscience eating him up inside, he sighed deeply and went down the corridor without looking back.
