He went to the right and moved out of the trees like a breeze on the pine-scented air.
One hefty swing that snatched the breath right out of him removed the head of one. No time to refill his lungs, for the other three were beginning to react. He brought the blade around, angled his arms and wrists, and jammed the blade into another man’s neck. It came out on the other side and flashed crimson in the sun. He didn’t have time to pull it back before someone else swung his sword. Fin ducked low to avoid losing his head. He closed his eyes and swallowed, hoping for his balance when he opened his eyes again. He was thankful that Wolf had made him practice from a young age and hadn’t shown him mercy. He came back up, closer to his opponent and punched him in the chin. He heard a crack and watched yet another man crumble to the ground.
Someone hit him from behind. He shook his head to keep from passing out.
But he felt himself going. He was too weak to stand.
Someone screamed behind him. He turned and fell to his knees. He saw his brother yank his heavy blade out of a Saxon’s skull. Fin fought to stay awake to watch Wolf kill the remaining Saxons like a beast with no soul.
When he was finished, it took him a few moments to stop chopping and gather his wits.
When he did, he hurried to Fin’s side. “Brother! Bring me water!” he shouted to someone. The men. The other half of their regiment was there, looking concerned over Fin since there was nothing else to do and no one left to fight.
“Wolf,” he managed. “The Saxons have…Camelee.”
“No. I have her,” his brother corrected.
Fin opened his eyes and tried to see without everything being blurry. “You?” Was this truly Wolf. Yes. No one fought like his brother. Not even him. “That is good news.”
“It is.” Wolf smiled. “You look as happy as if I just told you there were three more wars to fight.”
Fin chuckled softly and closed his eyes. “I am happy you are reunited with her. My neck is saved.”
“Well,” his brother said while Fin drank from the skin Wolf offered him. “We shall see about that. We will speak about where you were when the Saxons came. Can you rise?”
Fin tried and almost went down gain, but Wolf held him up and helped him to his horse. “You will ride back with me. You are too weak to sit in the saddle alone.”
Fin didn’t argue with him on any of it. He had been about to die at the hands of the Saxons. His brother saved his life, just as he had many other times before. What would become of Fin when Wolf returned to Denmark?
“Get him a blanket!” his brother called out. “What happened to the buttons on your jacket?”
“The Saxons cut them off.” Fin looked down at the jacket. The one Genevra had given him. He thought of her. True to his nature, when he’d first considered her, he thought of her countenance, but, in truth, he liked her motherly nature. He’d never had a mother.
“And Genevra?” he asked Wolf. “Is she with you, as well?”
“Yes. She gave me the message you left with her.”
“I see.” Fin wondered what she’d told his brother, anyway. But he wouldn’t ask. He didn’t have enough breath in him.
After a moment of rest, he turned slightly to his brother. “Once they realized who I was, they wanted to bring me to two chiefs, Aethelwold and Leofric.”
“The first is already dead,” Wolf informed him. “He had Camelee. I killed him. Leofric will come to me I am told.”
“I will be at your side.”
“I know, Brother.”
“Do you?” Fin put to him. “Did you doubt me when you discovered I was gone but not dead?”
“Yes,” Wolf told him candidly. “We have grown apart.”
“That does not mean I would betray you,” Fin replied, insulted and brooding.
“You are correct, Fin. Forgive me, Brother. You see? I am not this superior being you have created in your thoughts.”
“You saved me today.”
“God’s intervention. I had no way of knowing where you were.”
