The warrior spun and stared at her with hatred. His eyes were glazed and he stumbled slightly. “Why did he come for you, Katarina?”
“To guard me,” she answered.From you.And she was deeply grateful for it. There was no doubt in her mind that if Arik had not come after her, Leif would have raped her.
Arik’s stare met hers, and she saw him nod toward the door. She needed to leave as soon as possible. “Go outside, Katarina.” He moved toward the table and placed the oil lamp upon it. The gesture seemed to confuse Leif, and she used that moment to drop the wooden stool, fleeing outside.
The night air was frigid, but it was her heart that had gone cold. She was terrified that Thorgrim would die. If she turned her back on him, she feared it would happen. Leif was unbearably strong. She couldn’t believe she had been soft-headed enough to think that he would never harm her.
She hurried back to where Hrafn had fallen. She needed to know how badly her brother had been hurt, and someone had to help Arik Thorgrim.
Even if she found a warrior willing to come, he might not be strong enough to save Arik. The thought bothered her deeply, for he had risked his own life for her sake.
And yet, it might already be too late.
Eric moved toward the open door, thankful that Katarina had escaped. Seeing this man trying to hurt her had provoked a primal side to him. Never had he felt such fury, seeing a man attack an innocent maiden. Rage filled his veins, boiling his blood. If he’d had a pistol, he would have shot Leif without a second thought. The man didn’t deserve to breathe.
But there were no pistols, no advanced weapons to bring down this enemy. All he had were his wits. And somehow that would have to be enough to defeat this Goliath.
Leif swung the battle-ax downward in a violent blow that could have cleaved Eric’s body in two, had he not moved. He should have been petrified at the sight of this berserker.
Instead, he held out his own ax. At least he had the advantage of being mostly sober, unlike the Viking.
You’ve gone half-potted,his brain warned.Why would you think you can fight a man of this size? Leave now while your head is still attached.He knew that was the logical course of action—but a darker side of him was warming to the fight.
This man had tried to attack Katarina, and that could not go unpunished. He wasn’t a coward who would run away in fear or shy away from a fight. Right now, he wanted to avenge her honor.
Eric took a step closer to the table. The oil within the lamp was flammable, and if he used fire as a distraction, it might end the fight.
Leif tightened his grip upon the ax. “I’m going to kill you, Thorgrim.”
Not if he could stop him. But Eric knew better than to attack the man with a battle-ax. His weapon was a distraction, a means of buying time while he determined how best to use the fire. There was no doubt that if Leif managed to seize him, the Viking would snap his neck.
Eric’s gaze shifted back to the lamp oil and a piece of wood burning in the hearth. It might be possible to seize the wood and ignite Leif with the oil. He kept the ax held high, while Leif stared at him with amusement. It occurred to him that there were only two means of winning this fight. Either with a physical maiming, or he had to invoke fear within the Viking.
His mind tried to recall knowledge of Norse mythology. Superstitions and the threat of magic were all he had.
“I have been to Valhalla,” he told Leif. “And I have seen the face of Odin.” But the proclamation sounded forced and had little effect upon his enemy.
“You were sent back because you were unworthy to dwell with the gods,” Leif taunted.
“No.” He thought quickly, searching for a means of protecting Katarina and himself. “Because Katarina is a chosen maiden of Freya,” he finished. “She cannot belong to you.”
Leif snarled, “And who will stop me? You lack the strength, Thorgrim. It was taken from you.”
“Strength, perhaps. But not wisdom.” Again, he commanded, “You will end your betrothal to Katarina and let her go.”
“Think you I will allow you to claim her?” Leif stared down at him, trying to use his height as intimidation.
“I will keep her safe,” Eric answered quietly. “By any means necessary.”
At that, Leif’s gaze shifted to the open doorway. Katarina had returned, and behind her stood Valdr and her brother Hrafn. He was glad to see that the man was able to stand, though blood matted his hair and face.
Valdr moved inside and stood near the hearth between them. The oldjarlappeared furious, and he faced Leif. “If there is a disagreement, let it be brought among the leaders to be resolved. You may not slay my son because you’ve drunk too much ale.”
“He intends to take Katarina from me,” Leif remarked.
A change came over the young woman, and she lifted her chin. “I am ending my betrothal to Leif. He tried to force me against my will, and Arik saved me from that.”
Her brother’s face turned thunderous at the confession, but before Hrafn could intervene, Leif lifted his ax. Eric seized the fallen stool to use as a shield. Just as Leif swung the blade, he braced himself against the impact. The iron blade caught within the wood, and Eric jerked it hard, pulling the weapon from Leif’s grasp. Without hesitation, he reached for the lamp and tossed the oil on Leif. For a moment, the man appeared surprised as the liquid dripped down his tunic. Then Eric seized the burning stick from the hearth and ignited the fuel.
