Astrid said little while we set out with Stewart and Oksana by our side, and I wished she would. I understood her hesitancy, though, given we were entering more dangerous territory for her kind. Where the south had bigger metropolitan areas like Edinburgh and Glasgow, the north was more scattered with warring, rebellious clans. Around midday, we came upon a woodland clearing that the king felt would be good for resting the horses, eating, and most especially, fighting.
After explaining to his and Declan’s men what would be taking place, he ordered our scouts to fan out and guard the area, proclaiming that we three would battle, then we would eat.
“Ja, my king,” Astrid said loudly enough for all to hear, swinging down from Wyvern and tying her off.
Following suit, Gustav and I did the same.
His gaze was as locked on her as mine, as she draped her white bear fur cloak over her horse despite the frigid wind and began sheathing several daggers she had pulled from her satchel. After striding to the center of the clearing, she turned our way and held her shield and sword at the ready. Narrowing her eyes at us, she was an impressive sight despite her slight stature, her well-sharpened blade shimmering in the sunlight streaming down through the trees.
While I meant to keep an eye on Gustav, I, like everyone who had formed a circle around the clearing, was taken by her. She called to my inner warrior in a way I had not expected from such a gentle healer. Mayhap because of the challenge in her gaze or how expertly she held her weapons. It was hard to know.
All I knew was I had to fight her.
Had to feel her blade against mine as I would someday feel her skin against mine. Her mouth. Every last delicious inch of her inside and out.
It seemed Gustav was just as compelled to fight her, given how we gathered our weapons without another word and faced off with her, as we had on more than one occasion, a Norseman or Sassenach together. Was he thinking the same thing as I? Was he imagining feeling her in battle as much as I knew he wanted to feel her in bed? Somehow, I imagined he was, and it fueled me to stay alert to his every move.
At least at first.
At least until she came at us when we thought she was going on the defensive and soon proved just how magnificent, if not superior, she was with a blade. After that, I realized keeping an eye on Gustav as we toyed with her until she grew exhausted was impossible.
If anything, we would be the ones growing exhausted as she spun, twirled, ducked, and even leapt at times, using some moves we had seen before and others we had not. She possessed an envious finesse with her shield, which we lacked. While I had feared the brunt force of our blades against hers would be too much, never was I more wrong. She was surprisingly strong for such a slight lass and held up well, finding methods to lessen direct contact while wearing us down in different ways.
She was so good, in fact, much to King Alexander’s praise on more than one occasion, that she managed to turn my and Gustav’s blades against each other. So good that I forgot I was supposed to be protecting her and sometimes fighting him back so that I could have a go at her. He, in turn, did the same.
Where I had been eager to feel the clash of her blade, now I found myself mesmerized by it. How she tested my skills rather than the other way around. Fighting her was one of the mostinvigorating things I had ever experienced, and it seemed Gustav felt the same…until he did not.
At first, he was clearly intrigued and taken by her skills, yet when it became clear she might be gaining the upper hand as the two went at each other especially hard, something in his demeanor changed. Though slight at first and barely discernible, I suspected she sensed it too when she went more on the defensive.
He whipped a dagger.
She ducked and flung a blade.
He evaded.
The next thing I knew, he raced at her before I could stop him, ducked low, tackled her around the waist, and slammed her to the ground. Terrified for her, I raced that way only to skid to a halt when she kneed him hard in the ballocks and brought the sharp tip of yet another dagger to a point beneath his ribcage that, if she thrust up, would pierce him through the heart.
“Yield,” she seethed in Gustav’s ear as he groaned in pain at the hit to his groin while still atop her. “Yield, my friend, or I will drive this blade straight through your heart, and donotthink I won’t.”
As it turned out, King Alexander spoke before Gustav could, dictating what would possibly happen next after seeing just how fierce his enemy could be, and it more than unnerved me.
Chapter Eleven
-ASTRID-
While I could admit to being frustrated when I realized Declan didn’t entirely believe I was a capable warrior back in the tent at Largs, the moment I began battling him and Gustav in a clearing later that day, I felt exonerated. Free at last to wield my blade, and nothing felt more glorious, given it was not to kill over and over, again and again.
Instead, I found it more cathartic than I anticipated.
As I slashed, the images of the sadness on my sisters’ faces when I was pulled away by my father’s plans to endure the bloodshed and hatred not only of my countrymen but of the Scots flooded my mind. I slashed at them like I slashed at Declan and Gustav’s shields, until I realized I battled not them, but my past and the rage that I hadn’t been able to shed since first leaving the shores of home.
As my rage slowly drained, I felt the fight of words Declan and I had shared for months clang in our blades and reverberate in my soul. A cleansing of sorts. Our swords clashed, and my anger turned to exhilaration at how worthy an opponent he was.
At how clearly he could see me now, too.
He saw not just the gentle healer but the fierce shield-maiden, as we danced with metal and sweat in an erotic ferociousness that we would bring to bed together, and how I longed for the moment.
In fact, I craved it so intensely that I didn’t see Gustav coming until it was too late. Or should I saynearlytoo late when he raced at me and used his overwhelming size to slam me to the ground. Having been in this position before, I drove my knee into his ballocks and brought a dagger to his chest, warning himas nicely as I could that I would end him and very much meant it.
