“I don’t know,” I replied. “The guys at the gym showed me clips on the internet. Nothing looked all that complicated to me.”
The crowd of men groaned and jeered.
“This isn’t the internet, boy. And these aren’t your typical games. This is Castle Gunnach,” Connall said, stepping up to a white chalk line that had been sprayed onto the grass. “So, please allow me to show you how we do things around here.”
I backed up and joined the others a safe distance away. If there was such a thing.
“A competition hammer is typically around seven kilos,” Kade whispered. “Ours weighs twenty-five. And those flags out there mark distance,” he said, pointing.
“How far will he be able to throw?”
“The human record is around seventy-five meters.”
“That’s almost two-hundred and fifty feet,” I said.
Kade smiled wide. “Our closest flag is three hundred feet away.”
Connell began swinging the hammer over his head. His feet digging into the earth below him as he spun. Once he’d completed five revolutions, he released the hammer and it sailed through the air with ease, landing well over five hundred feet away.
Cheers erupted from both the spectators and competitors alike as Connell basked in the applause of a spectacular, and clearly unhuman, throw.
“I can see why you don’t let the Cauld Ane compete in your games, Kade.”
“Remember what Haddi told you,” Kade said. “Your increased strength will come to you as you need it, but you can’t force it. You must let your powers flow through you.”
I nodded, then walked out to the pitch, passing Connall as I did.
“Did I not mention this is my best event?” he asked with a smirk.
“Thanks for the lesson,” I replied, in a polite and respectful tone, of course.
“Careful not to hurt yourself,” he called back.
I knew nothing could break the bond between me and Isla, but I was fairly sure shoving what was likely an ancient Norse relic up her father’s ass would make family dinners awkward, so I said nothing and toed the line as I began psyching myself up.
How hard could this be? Sure, the hammer’s heavy, but you’re a strong guy, Arric. In fact, you have magic fuckin’ powers just like these guys. Maybe even more. Yeah. Fuck these Scottish arrrrrseholes. What kind of way is that to say ass anyway? Arse. It sounds stupid.
I gripped the leather strap tightly and began my wind up, quickly finding I had the needed strength to whip the hammer around my head.
One rotation.
My feet began to slip up from underneath me, so I dug deeper into the earth as I pick up speed.
Two rotations.
My chest burned and the hammer began to feel lighter as I picked up even more speed.
Three rotations.
As I swung around for the fourth rotation, I thought about the timing of my release when my feet came out from under me, causing me to completely eat shit in front of everyone.
I hit the ground with a thud, face first. The hammer went the opposite direction, flying straight up into the air before landing inches away from my rattled skull.
My ears rang and I struggled to decipher the sound I heard all around me. After a few disoriented moments, I recognized the sound as the laughter of a dozen Scotsmen and looked up to see just that. A dozen laughing Scotsmen. They weren’t laughing, so much as crying with laughter, but at any rate, no one seemed particularly concerned about my well-being, so I figured I must be okay.
I got to my feet and looked to the stands to see a horrified Isla. Her hands were to her mouth and I could sense her deep concern for me.
Are you okay?Isla demanded frantically in my head.
