“Where is Queen Avina?” Thrain glances around as if expecting her golden curls to materialize. “I am confident she is a gorgeous sight to see this early in the morning.”
He is baiting me.“Mention her again, and I will ensure you need a Healer after this session.”
His warning only leaves Thrain snorting.
“Hey!” Sigvid widens his arms at his sides, “are you stretched and ready? I do not want an easy win because your leg cramped up again.” He jumps up and down to keep up his heart rate.
Thrain throws his head back, cackling. “Let’s go, old man. I have a Province to rule over.”
“Old man? Really? I am barely a year older.”
He swings his fist toward Thrain’s stomach, connecting with the rigid indents of his muscle. “I need a good workout, but I would hate messing up your pretty hair.”
“Strong hit.” Thrain strains, clutching his abdomen. “No berserking in this match. I would hate an unfair fight.”
“I do not need myseidrto defeat you.”
“Sure you don’t.” Thrain grins as he throws a jab, catching his side, then lands a punch on his face.
Sigvid stumbles back only to kick his shin.
“Cunt!” Thrain swears as he hops, clutching his leg.
Sigvid kicks him in the gut, forcing him to fall back into the rope fence.
“You know,” Thrain smirks, “The Queen has spent a fair bit of time in Blackwood. Maybe she can sleep with me when your little dealis over? Share her and see if she prefers riding a real King for a change.”
Sigvid’s eyes flash red, the berserker power threatening to unleash on his brother.
No, not now. The time will come.
He blocks the incoming punch, grabs his wrist, then hair, and slams his brother to the floor.
Thrain takes a deep breath and rolls out of his grip, leaving hair in his hand. In retaliation, he elbows his nose, sending him stumbling into the barricade.
Thrain jumps to his feet and charges him with a fury of fists. He blocks most of them but still takes a few hits. An unnerving thought comes to him.
That Thrain may be able to best him in combat.
He lands a few blows, then catches his brother off guard with an uppercut.He takes advantage of Thrain’s momentary pause. “I know it was you who ordered Sven’s death,” he thunders.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.”
He lunges, but Thrain catches his arm, pulls him in, and smashes his nose with his forehead.
Neither brother relinquishes the fight despite the bloody fists thrown across the ring.
Thrain nicks him in the jaw, knocking him to his knees. He kicks his chest, laying him flat on his back. He then slams his knee into Sigvid’s chest with all his weight and leans down to his face.
“Your little Drengr in training had his nose where he shouldn’t have.”
The Drengr army is a sore spot for Thrain since Sigvid initiated their conception ten winters ago with his warriors. Especially since Sigvid also controlled the entire Salt Army. Regardless, Thrain’s actions are inexcusable as the fucking King of the Province.
Thrain pushes harder into his chest and lands a blow to his face.
“You can play pretend with your little plaything, Sigvid. But I have worked too hard for too long for you to fuck everything up.” He growls, spitting in his face.
Sigvid manages to slam his fist into Thrain’s crotch, teetering himoff balance. He sits up, spitting blood while Thrain is gasping, holding his bruised member between his legs.
