“Strian!” Her scream turned into a whimper as her fingers combed through the air grasping nothing.
“Gressa, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I can hear you.” Strian sat on the edge of the bed, holding her hand. She relaxed as the pressure of his hand on hers registered, but she did not say another word.
Strian let her sleep as his mind ventured to the same place that caused Gressa’s nightmare, the day war separated them. The day he lost his wife.
“Stay close to me, Strian. When I run out of arrows, then you can move ahead. Let me pick off as many as I can before you have to fight.”
Strian looked down at the little pixie face set in stone. His wife of three months was not joking. Gressa intended to protect him from the battle that was about to begin. She was just as fierce as any of the other shieldmaidens. She had the same skill and strength as Tyra and Freya, but unlike the other two women, she had something worth defending. Strian knew she would fight to the death to protect him just as he would do the same for her.
His tribe had been tracking a band of neighboring Norsemen for close to a month after they raided his tribe’s home. Strian and Tyra both lost their mothers in that raid, and Lena had almost died while trying to hide the other women. Gressa and Strian, along with Leif, Freya, Tyra, and Bjorn, had been with their fathers on a fishing trip when neighbors to the south overran their homestead, killing any and every one they saw.
“Strian, are you even listening to me?” Gressa pinched his forearm. “Stay behind me. You are a much bigger target than I am. Wait until there are few arrows flying before you charge forward.”
Strian wrapped his large hands around Gressa’s trim waist and lifted her until she was eye level with him. He gave her a firm peck before putting her back on the ground with a spank to her backside.
“I remember it was me who pledged to protect you. Don’t be reckless, Gressa.”
She pinched his arm again before rising on her toes and kissing his chin, the highest part of him she could reach since he was a foot taller than her.
“I would say the same to you. Just because you’re bigger than most warriors doesn’t make you any less mortal. You aren’t one of the gods, even if you look like one.” She grinned as she slapped his backside for good measure.
They heard the call go up from Ivar and Eindride, Strian’s father. They moved into their position in the shield wall and waited for the order to move forward. It was only moments later that the first arrows bounced off their shields. Strian kept his shield locked with those at his shoulders, only pulling back long enough for Gressa to poke her bow and arrow through. The band of warriors moved as one with the shield wall unbroken, creating openings for archers to shoot at their enemy. They made steady progress, and Gressa would soon run out of arrows before the first chink in the shield wall fell. It was like a domino effect after that. One warrior after another screamed out in pain and tumbled to the ground, some to writhe in agony as others turned to stone.
“The shield wall won’t hold much longer. Gressa, get behind me when it does. Shoot over my shoulder when you can, but otherwise stay down!” Strian had to yell to be heard over the cacophony of battle sounds even though Gressa was only inches away from him.
“All right.”
They continued to advance, and Strian could hear his father’s voice from further down the line, booming like thunder. The shield wall gave way, and the melee began in truth. Warriors from both tribes clashed as they wielded their shields as weapons just as they did knives and swords. Blood splattered across Strian’s chest as he used his long reach to block anyone who might try to get past him and get to his bride.
“Strian, to the right.”
Strian twisted in time for Gressa to release an arrow into the neck of a man he had not even seen approaching them.
“Thank you.”
“You can make it up to me tonight. With that thing you do with your tongue.”
“You’re thinking about that right now?” Strian chuckled even though they were amid a gruesome scene.
“I need something to look forward to.” Gressa teased as she threw her knife into the eye of a man who prepared to charge them.
“I will gladly offer that if you don’t fall asleep again while I make love to you. It’s rather insulting.”
“That happened only once. And it had been a long day of riding and then fighting. It wasn’t a reflection upon your skills.”
Strian’s snort turned into a grunt as he lunged forward and brought his blade across his enemy’s ribs. The fighting became too intense to continue talking. Strian would regret for the rest of his life that he had not tried harder to keep talking to Gressa. He might have discovered she was missing far sooner.
Gressa tripped over a body with sightless eyes as she tried to keep up with Strian. A fight with another shieldmaiden, who wielded a sword and an axe, forced her to fall behind. She was a fierce opponent but held too high an opinion of herself if she believed she did not need a shield. Gressa hacked and slashed until her opponent lay waiting for a Valkyrie to carry her to Odin. By the time Gressa could look around for Strian, she could not spot him. She scanned the battlefield, but he was nowhere in sight. She controlled the panic that wanted to take hold as fear flooded her. She was not scared about her own safety but that of Strian. She rushed forward toward other members of her tribe, but she still could not find her husband. She was nearly to where Freya and Tyra fought alongside one another, but fire ripped through her back and into her thigh. She staggered several steps until her leg went numb, and her entire body felt as though it disappeared from beneath her neck. Gressa pitched forward and landed with a thud, her head ringing with the vibration and the sounds of the ongoing battle around her. She looked around, but when she sensed someone stepping over her, she shut her eyes and remained motionless. Later, she would look back and realize pretending to be dead was what kept her from dying. Whoever felled her assumed they had killed her too, because they left her where she lay.
Gressa laid in the same spot, blood pooling around her, for what felt like hours. The battle shifted away from her, and the sun moved across the sky. She forced herself into action and dragged her uncooperative body behind her as she crawled on her elbows until she met the tree line and could hide. It was several hours later that she heard a voice she recognized.
“Gressa!” The voice screamed over and over.
“I’m here.” She could not muster more than a whisper. No one, not even her, could hear her as she tried to lift her arm. Most of the bleeding had slowed, but she was too weak to do more.
“Gressa! Where are you?” Strian’s despair was palpable, and her heart ached to cause him such pain when she was so close.
“Strian, we must go.”
