Chapter Ten #2
Despite my worry over her, I couldn’t help but be impressed with her courage and self-confidence. I could only hope it implied she was as good with a blade as legends claimed.
“Verra good then.” His anticipation unmistakable, Alexander nodded with approval. “’Twill make our journey today most interesting indeed.”
After that, we spoke of other things while eating, yet all the while I thought of this battling the king wished to see out in the woodland, where it would only be Astrid and a host of the king’s men.
While I loved Alexander and typically trusted him without question, I worried about how close Gustav and he had become, given Gustav’s true intentions when it came to the Norse. To Astrid herself.
“You shouldnae do it,” I said to her under my breath a while later as she did one last check on the wounded before we departed. “I dinnae trust Gustav’s intentions.”
“You need not fear,” she assured me, speaking just as softly lest someone overhear us.
Her eyebrow swept up when she looked at me.
Challenged me. “Unless, of course, you doubt my abilities despite hearing my stories last night. Despite my word that I will be able to hold my own against any warrior, no matter their expertise.” Her gaze turned fiery.
“I might have laid down my shield and blade for my father, but the warrior still lives on in me if need be.”
It was the first time she had spoken about her father on such a personal level, and though I wondered at the hurt I heard in her voice, now was not the time to probe further. Yet I would, and soon, intending to learn everything about her I could from here on out and well into the future.
“All right, then,” I murmured when every fiber of my being wanted to rail against her going up against Gustav. “If it doesnae go well, I will protect you,” I vowed. “As I promised Da, no harm will come to you if ‘tis the last thing I do.”
Where I thought she would be grateful, if not loving in her response, she instead narrowed her eyes and issued a small smile.
Not one of gratefulness, but one that bespoke the cockiness of a warrior who knew their self-worth.
“Whilst thankful for your vow, I will assure you, one last time, ‘twill not be needed.” The corner of her mouth curled up higher.
“If anything—” her gaze raked over me— “prized warrior of King Alexander, it could very well be the other way around.”
Before I could respond, she didn’t stalk out of the tent but sauntered with confidence, ordering me to follow if I were so desperate to protect her.
When I looked at Oksana, who sat calmly by my side, I swore I saw the same amusement in the husky’s black-rimmed pale blue regard when she looked at me.
“She is confident, is she not?” I remarked.
Offering me a little howling sound of agreement that was by no means a bark, she stood and stalked casually after her mistress, flicking her bushy tail as if telling me I had no idea what I was in for.
Somehow, I suspected that was true as I followed them and we were en route north a short time later.
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 most invigorating 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 do not think 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.