Fucking Finn.
Sigvid should never have allowed the Timber Queen out of sight with anyone other than himself. This upstart swore him a blood oath, which he now feels well within his rights to collect.
His roar sends the horses rearing back as his legs tear across the circle, closing the distance between him and his traitorous Drengr.
“Commander? You got here quickly.”
His berserker mode is at full strength when his shoulder meets Finn’s chest, sending him flying back, gasping for air.
“Wait, wait, wait!” Finn waves his hands in the air. “It is not what it looks like!” They are far beyond reason. The young man sealed his fate when his fucking sword kissed her neck.
Sigvid clutches Finn’s blade by the edge. Blood oozes along the slice, forming in his palm.
He barely notices the sting.
The younger warrior throws punch after punch that bounces off Sigvid’s corded muscle. He narrows his eyes, done with this shithead. In response, his fingers close around Finn’s neck.
Without a word, Sigvid slams him against a tree, raining bark onto his body. Sigvid takes his sword and stabs him just below his sternum, taking care not to hit his spine. He needs him to feel the pain. Sigvid leaves him hanging on the tree by his sword.
“Anyone?” Sigvid gestures around, pleased to see he has everyone’s full and undivided attention. “Tell me my explicit instructions on the treatment I expect from someone marked in Drengr seed. A rule I allow at your fucking request.”
Some recoil at his outrage. His berserker power gives him a baritone voice, which is valuable in times like this.
“You marked her, sir. You have claimed her,” one of the younger Drengr at the front of the circle hollers.
“In my thirty-three winters, have I claimed a woman?”
“No, sir, you have never claimed anyone.” Helga’s voice carries over the area.
He snaps his fingers and nods toward Grim and Kar. At his back, he can hear Avina groaning as they release her from the position.
Finn tried to hurt her. And, as promised, heads are about to fucking roll.
Sigvid slams his fist into Finn’s face. Like a red grape, his blood bursts against his hand.
“Stop! Stop!” Finn’s now nasally voice begs.
Sigvid does not stop.
He seizes Finn’s left leg and, in his berserker power, tears it off his body, leaving jagged gore and veins hanging from the gaping, bloody wound. Even those in the Timber Province can surely hear Finn’s ear-piercing shrieks. Someone retches behind him as he drops the bloody leg along the pine needle-covered ground.
He has committed atrocious acts on countless enemies, yet never someone he once counted among his own.
Sigvid unsheathes his second axe and flips the handle in the air once before catching it. Finn sobs uncontrollably.
“We are just getting started, Finn Ormsson. Your father is churning in his grave.”
Using the razor edge of his axe, he skins the top layer off Finn’s arm.
“Stop!” He wails. “I am one of your Drengr! Why are you choosing this bitch over me?”
Sigvid halts with his axe over the next section of skin. “You disobeyed my direct orders. The Timber Queen is marked, and Helga can attest. I have allowed all of you this way of communication for your women and whores. And this is what you do to mine?” Sigvid’s voice now feels larger than life as many hunker away from the scene.
Snarling, Sigvid clutches him by the throat and rips him and the sword off the tree. Finn flies through the air, thudding onto the ground in the circle's center.
Finn tries to crawl towards Sigvid’s discarded axe, but he stomps on him before he can extend his fingers.
“You will not use my weapon against me!” He plucks the axe from the ground and sheaths it before kicking Finn in the mouth. Blood and broken teeth tumble out onto the ground.
