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Hilda chuckled dryly and swept a handful of hair away from her face. “If ye think that, then ye really dinnae know anything about our clan. I know ye dislike stories, but we are a clan of proud women. There hae been generations when our women hae been warriors.”

Maxwell looked at all the men around them. “Then where are they?” he asked.

Hilda grimaced and huffed. “In times of peace, they focus on the things only women can dae, but I’m here tae make sure the memory of the warrior women never dies, and if ye would like tae test whether I can be truly safe, then we can fight,” she said, walking away from the fire to a quiet, more private area of the clan. As she moved from the fire, the air grew cooler, and her breath swirled as it left her lips. Maxwell followed, intrigued. She had no sword to draw, and he did not attempt to draw his either.

“What dae ye propose?” he asked.

Hilda smirked. That was the only invitation she needed.

Without saying another word, she ran forward and punched him in his stomach. She had pulled her punch, for she did not really want to injure him, but when her fist met his torso, she almost cried out in pain. It was as though she had hit a house. Maxwell was unmoving, and she only just managed to evade a sweeping blow. She ducked and twisted around him, sinking low to the ground before rising up, trying to use her momentum to add to the power of the blow. She struck with both fists and at least made him stagger back. However, she wasn’t sure the net gain had been worth it as the impact made her arms ache.

Maxwell turned as though he was a huge bull trying to swat a fly. Hilda used her speed and agility to evade his grasp, but even she could sense it was only a matter of time. The shadowed darkness aided her as her fists moved in a flurry, jabbing against his thick skin. She peppered him with blows, hoping that if she couldn’t harm him with one huge punch, then she might be able to whittle down his stamina with hundreds of lighter blows. Not that it seemed to matter. Maxwell was as tough as a gnarled tree.

He reached out with his huge palm, and Hilda felt the air rush above her head. Her momentum took her to the ground, and she decided not to fight it. The grass was soft as she landed with a thud and then rolled underneath Maxwell. He lurched, and his arm hung like an arching branch as he tried to grab her, but then she realized that she might be able to use this to her advantage. She wrapped her arm around his thigh and rolled into his legs, trying to skittle him over. If he had prepared for the motion and dug his heels in, then perhaps he would have been able to root himself to the ground, but as it was, she dragged him down with her. His arms flailed by his side as he came crashing down. He was so tall it seemed to take long moments before he actually fell.

The ground trembled under the impact, and Hilda managed to avoid being crushed. As soon as he fell, though, she slithered over him and looked triumphant as she had a hand to his throat and a fist clenched by his face. His chest heaved as she straddled him, and she could feel the hot strength coursing through his body. She had wrestled like this with her brother before, but this was different. Something stirred within her that she didn’t understand. It was all hot and sizzling, and her chest was heaving, but not just from the exertion. Her heart raced as she looked at this man from a new angle.

He didn’t seem so frightening or intimidating when he was on his back.

Because she was no longer trying to defeat him, she offered no resistance as he pushed her off.

“Aye, well fought, lass. I can see ye hae been trained. Perhaps I was tae hasty in assuming that ye could nae take care of yerself,” he admitted.

Hilda smiled at this, feeling proud that she could live up to the traditions that had been passed down for generations.

“I’m nae like other women,” she said, and as she rose from the ground, she touched her necklace, wondering if the feelings she experienced would stir again. When she reflected on the bout, it wasn’t the image of taking him onto his back that she remembered, it was the look in his eyes when he looked up at her. She wasn’t sure what she saw in them, but she knew that it wasn’t just a warrior.