A Quest of Heroes (Book #1 in the Sorcerer's Ring)

to block
Thor’s way. Thor could see he was determined to strike him down, to make a fool
of him in front of everyone, and thereby gain himself advantage over the other
recruits.
    This made Thor furious. Thor had
no bone to pick with this boy, and it was not his fight. But he was making it
his fight, just to gain advantage with the others.
    As they got closer, Thor could
hardly believe this boy’s size: he towered over him, scowled down with locks of
thick black hair covering his forehead, and the largest, squarest jaw Thor had
ever seen. He did not see how he could make a dent against this boy.
    The boy charged him with his
wooden sword, and Thor knew that if he didn’t act quickly, he would be knocked
out.
    Thor’s reflexes kicked in. He
instinctively took out his sling, reached back, and hurled a rock at the boy’s
hand. It found its target, and knocked the sword from his hand, just as the boy
was bringing it down. It went flying and the boy, screaming, clutched his hand.
    Thor wasted no time. He charged,
taking advantage of the moment, leapt into the air, and kicked the boy,
planting his two front feet squarely on the boy’s chest. But the boy was so
thick, it was like kicking an oak tree. The boy merely stumbled back a few
inches, while Thor stopped cold in his tracks and fell at the boy’s feet. This
does not bode well , Thor thought, as he hit the ground with a thud, his
ears ringing.
    Thor tried to gain his feet, but
the boy was a step ahead of him: he reached down, grabbed Thor by his back, and
threw him, sending him flying, face first, into the dirt.
    A crowd of boys quickly gathered
in a circle around them and cheered. Thor reddened, humiliated.
    Thor turned to get up, but the
boy was too fast. He was already on top of him, pinning him down. Before Thor
knew it, it had turned into a wrestling match, and the boy’s weight was
immense.
    Thor could hear the muted shouts
of the other recruits as they formed a circle, screaming, anxious for blood.
The face of the boy scowled down; the boy reached out his thumbs, and brought
them down for Thor’s eyes. Thor could not believe it: it seemed this boy really
wanted to hurt him. Did he really want to gain advantage that badly?
    At the last second, Thor rolled
his head out of the way, and the boy’s hands went flying by, plunging into the
dirt. Thor took the chance to roll out from under him.
    Thor gained his feet, and faced
the boy, who arose as well. The boy charged and swung for Thor’s face, and Thor
ducked at the last second; the air rushed by his face, and he realized if it
had hit him, it would have broken his jaw. Thor reached up and punched the boy
in the gut—but it hardly did a thing: it was like striking a tree.
    Before Thor could react, the boy
elbowed him in the face.
    Thor stumbled back, reeling from
the blow. It was like getting hit by a hammer, and his ears rang.
    While Thor stumbled, still trying
to catch his breath, the boy charged and kicked him hard in the chest. Thor
went flying backwards and crashed to the ground, landing on his back. The other
boys cheered.
    Thor, dizzy, began to sit up, but
just as he began, the boy charged once more, swung and punched him again, hard
in the face, knocking him flat on his back again—and down for good.
    Thor lay there, hearing the muted
cheers of the others, feeling the salty taste of blood running from his nose,
the welt on his face. He groaned in pain. He looked up and could see the large
boy turn away and walk back towards his friends, already celebrating his
victory.
    Thor wanted to give up. This boy
was huge, fighting him was futile, and he could take no more punishment. But
something inside him pushed him. He could not lose. Not in front of all these
people.
    Don’t give up. Get up. Get up!
    Thor somehow summoned the
strength: groaning, he rolled over and got to his hands and knees, then,
slowly, to his feet. He faced the boy, bleeding, his eyes swollen, hard to see,
breathing hard, and raised his fists.
    The huge boy turned around and
stared down at Thor. He shook his head, unbelieving.
    “You should have stayed down,
boy,” he threatened, as he began to walk back to Thor.
    “ENOUGH!” yelled a voice. “Elden,
stand back!”
    A knight suddenly stepped up,
getting between them, holding out his palm and stopping Elden from getting
closer to Thor. The crowd quieted, as they all looked to the knight: clearly
this was a man who demanded respect.
    Thor looked up, in awe at the
knight’s