The men move to their positions on opposite sides of the circle.
“I wasn’t expecting to fight a man armed with a toothpick,” says Njord.
Ari ignores him. Ari ignores me. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, swaying his short blade back and forth. If only I had said goodbye. If only I could jump between them. But I made this happen. This was my choice. I should have known.
“Ari was challenged,” says Sigurd. “He gets the first strike, then we begin.”
“I accused him,” states Ari. “He had no choice. Njord may strike first.”
A whisper ruffles the crowd. Sigurd looks surprised but turns to Njord, who shrugs and gets into a battle stance.
Ari does the same.
“Njord strikes first,” declares Sigurd.
I consider turning away. Ari gutted is the last thing I want to see. But I will not disgrace him. I am the cause of this. If Ari does not falter in his bravery, neither will I.
Both men stand low, shields raised, blades ready. Not a bird in the sky.
I hold my breath.
Njord swings. A shattering blow that sends splinters flying from Ari’s shield. Ari falls to one knee. Before he can recover, Njord swings again. Ari blocks it. Njord is fast, much faster than his size suggests. Ari doesn’t have the time to regain his footing.
Njord swings yet again, crushing Ari’s shield in two. I gasp as Njord’s blade cuts into Ari’s thigh. Instantly blood gushes out of the wound. Ari grunts.
It’s over.
Njord thinks the same, taking a step back with the smug smile of victory. He lowers his shield and blade as his grin grows.
Everything happens in a blur. Ari drops his shield and shoots forward. He strikes like a snake, a cat. Fluid. Faster than I can blink, he is standing next to his cocky opponent, with a hand holding down Njord’s shield. The short sword is flipped in his hand.
Njord swings his sword, but Ari is too close to him. It’s too late.
Ari presses the blade into the massive warrior’s neck. In and out, swift as lightning. I could swear I saw the tip show on the other side. This is why he chose a shorter blade.
Ari darts back. Njord looks confused for a split second as he raises his hand to his neck. His smile melts away. A torrent of blood floods from between his fingers.
The crowd gasps, me included. A woman shrieks and covers her face as she turns away. The girl he was courting, maybe.
Njord stumbles back a few steps before he collapses on the ground. No time to speak. No time for goodbyes. It’s over.
A buzz fills my body as I realize what just happened.
Njord is dead.
Ari did it.
Eidunn is safe.
The smell of hot blood fills the air.
Sigurd closes his eyes. Vidar’s face is a furious red. Ari stares at his gushing enemy.
He isn’t celebrating. But me, I want to sing. I want to pray.
Bless Freya. Bless Odin.
Eidunn is safe.
