I don’t know why she dislikes me. Maybe it’s because two of her men sacrificed everything for me even though I never asked for it.
Whatever the reason, it’s time to settle old scores. And I will leave here the victor.
I follow Inga as she leads me to the square, prepared for battle.
The Vikings holler in excitement, sculling their cups of ale as I can imagine they’ve not seen their queen fight another queen. But they don’t realize I did not get to where I am by being senseless.
I got here because I fought dirty.
I lied.
I cheated.
And I killed, and I will happily do so again.
Inga cracks her neck from side to side, eyes never wavering from me. I simply smile in response before getting into a fighting stance.
Norse is spewed around me. Inga’s men are riled up and demanding my blood, but Inga knows this fight won’t be easy. She extends her sword in front of her, peering down it at me.
“Now is the time to retreat to your kingdom. You do not belong here. You never did,” she says, baring her teeth.
“I do not take orders from you, Inga,” I reply, circling her and mimicking her movements.
It’s a death dance as such.
“Are you angered that I had their love, and you did not?” I ask, using my words as fuel, as I know they harm her.
And as anticipated, a guttural cry leaves her before she charges for me.
The force of her first strike is brutal, but I raise my sword, blocking her. I shove her backward with all my might, and she stumbles.
“I believe the answer is yes.”
She screams, charging for me once again.
I read her moves, however, and dodge her attack by sidestepping her. Her back is turned to me, so I use this to my advantage and kick her to the ground. She scrambles desperately, but I don’t give her a reprieve and push my foot to the small of her back, pinning her down.
“You do not fight like the warrior I remember you to be,” I mock, pressing down harder onto her spine. “Mayhap your arrogance will finally be that of your demise.”
Inga has always fought dirty, and now is no exception. She turns over her shoulder and throws a handful of dirt into my face, blinding me for long enough for her to squirm from my clutches and swing her sword.
I frantically rub the soil from my eyes, but it only makes things worse. Inga drives the butt of her sword into my stomach, winding me.
“No, princess,” she sneers. “I will be the reason for your demise.”
I stagger back, almost losing my footing, but I remain upright, blinking past the grit prohibiting my vision. Inga kicks my leg, and I buckle to the ground, poised on one knee. She slams her fist into my face, splitting my lip open.
The sharp metallic sting trickles down my throat, and a surge of excitement courses through me from the taste. It almost animates me back to life.
Inga charges at me with a war cry, but I spring up and turn, avoiding the sharp end of her sword.
Our audience hollers and bellows for Inga to finish me off, but they underestimate a queen scorned.
The soft rustle of wind blows over my face, amplifying the blood pumping through my ears. I focus on it and allow the universe to guide me, just as Skarth taught me.
Inga is a skilled fighter, but she’s passionate and, therefore, vocal. I hear her attack before I feel it, which is why I close my eyes and fight blind. I shut out the background noise and concentrate on Inga’s feet in the dirt and the small intake of breath she takes before she strikes her sword.
Her sword whips through the air, intent on taking my head, but I duck low and drive my sword into her leg. I quickly withdraw, listening to the drip…drip…drip of Inga’s blood as it trickles into the earth beneath her.
