The Viking's Captive

by Quinn Loftis

  Instead, very calmly and quietly, I took another step up the stairs, and then another. I saw the Viking standing at the rail of the ship, looking out over the water toward the beach. His back was to me. Another silent step brought me onto the deck of the ship. I took one more step and raised the bar above my head, judging the distance between us. I hesitated. I knew if my aim wasn’t true I was done for. With a deep breath, I gripped the bar as tightly as I could and swung.

  Just as the bar came whooshing through the air, an explosion rang out on the beach, causing the ship to shudder.

  “What the hell?”

  Ragnar leaned forward over the railing to see about the commotion, and my bar landed, not on the back of the man’s head as I’d intended, but squarely in the middle of his back. He let out a yell and spun around, fury in his eyes.

  “You bitch!” he spat. “You stupid, stupid, bitch!”

  Still brandishing the pry bar, I held it out in front of me in a vain attempt to protect myself, though it might as well have been a dead goose for all the good it did me. Ragnar let out a roar and lunged. The force of his huge body overwhelmed me, and I fell beneath him. Had I not recently fallen down a flight of steps, I might have tried to dodge out of his way. As it was, I simply crumpled. As I fell, the iron bar clattered across the deck somewhere well out of reach, not that I would have been able to defend myself with it, anyway.

  Ragnar’s strong hands clamped around my throat and squeezed. My airway was immediately cut off. The pain was immense; it felt like my windpipe was being crushed. I could feel my face turning purple and my eyes bulging as Ragnar steadily cursed me, spittle flying from his lips and flecking my face. The clouds and the beautiful, bright-blue sky I had noticed earlier were blotted out by his terrible, contorted face.

  This was it. Ragnar’s face was the last thing I would see on this earth. So much for my iron will and mental toughness. There would be no prophecy. There would be no Torben. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying my best to picture Torben’s handsome face. I wanted that to be the last thing I saw.

  The world began to fade for the second time in the span of a few minutes. Then, without warning, the man shuddered, his eyes went wide, and his grip on my throat slackened. I sputtered and choked as sweet, life-giving air flowed back into my lungs, burning as it entered. It was a welcome burn; I savored it because it meant I was alive.

  Ragnar was still staring into my eyes, and I saw complete and utter shock there. He opened his mouth as if to say something to me, and then, without warning, a stream of blood splattered from it onto my face. I tried to scream, but my voice was hoarse and my throat burned like fire where Ragnar had squeezed it. The Viking collapsed, his full weight landing directly on top of me, pinning me again to the wooden deck. Once more, the air was forced from my lungs.

  What in the bloody hell? I thought. Is there no end to the damage my body will take? I thought I might suffocate at any second, but mercifully, Ragnar’s body was quickly rolled off me and I found myself looking up at yet another fierce Viking warrior.

  “Are you okay?” I thought I heard the man say, though it felt as if the words were coming from the inside of a barrel. I merely stared at him. “Allete, Allete, are you okay?” he asked again.

  The warrior appeared on the verge of panicking, so I forced myself to nod.

  “Good,” he said as he let out the breath he must have been holding. “Just relax. Wait one second, and I’ll help you up. Don’t move.”

  He sprang up and grabbed a long weapon that had been tucked against the gunwale of the ship. It had a long wooden handle with an axe blade bearing a sharp point at the end. I hadn’t noticed it before. If I had, I might’ve used it to run Ragnar through and saved myself a lot of trouble. The man tied a white cloth to the end of the weapon and held it high in the air, swinging it back and forth. It appeared as if he were signaling someone on land. Torben, maybe? Was this man a friend? He must be if he saved me from Ragnar. Turning my attention back to my surroundings, I saw Ragnar lying next to me. A short sword protruded from my attacker’s side, and his eyes were lifeless. A large pool of blood was forming beneath him, some of it running along the deck of the ship. I really wanted to get up and move away from the dead body, but I wasn’t sure if I could stand on my own without falling right back down. Knowing my luck, I’d land face-first right on top of Ragnar.

  “That should do it,” my rescuer said. After he put down the weapon, he knelt beside me. It was then I noticed he was soaking wet. He had to be freezing. Though winter was not here, the fall air was cool enough that a dip in the ocean would be extremely ill-advised.

  “What is going on?” I asked. My mind was still a bit foggy from being oxygen deprived for so long.

  “I’m Rush,” the man said, “of Clan Hakon. Torben is my jarl.”

  “Torben is not yet a jarl,” I said, confused.

  “Maybe you should take a look at what is happening on the beach,” he replied and extended his hand.

  A cowardly man thinks he will ever live, if warfare he avoids;

  But old age will give him no peace, though spears may spare him.

  ~ Hávamál, Book of Viking Wisdom

  A few hundred yards down the beach, smoke rose in a pillar from where Thomas had set off the gunpowder I’d given him earlier. The shock of the explosion had shaken the beach, and now everyone faced that direction. Several of Magnus’ men made as if to run toward the noise.

  Now came the most crucial part of the plan. It all depended upon Rush. I had to keep Magnus from making a move before I knew Allete was safe. Once Rush gave the signal, Magnus’ reign as jarl of Clan Hakon would be over for good.

  “Hold!” Magnus yelled to his men before turning back around to face me. The fear in the man’s eyes when he turned back to me and found the point of my sword at his throat filled me with a sense of sick satisfaction. The time I’d long waited for had finally come, though I’d never envisioned it happening like this. I wasn’t sure what I’d imagined—a public challenge in the middle of the clan meeting circle, I guessed. Regardless, either Magnus or myself would not leave this beach alive.

  I didn’t take my eyes off Magnus, but I felt Brant step away from me. This was my fight, and he knew it. If the clan was to follow me, I had to beat Magnus on my own. Brant wouldn’t interfere, even if it meant he had to watch his best friend get cut down. He wouldn’t get involved, but he would also do his best to make sure none of Magnus’ men got involved, either, and the thought of him watching my back gave me a measure of comfort.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Magnus nearly bellowed as he quickly regained his composure. “Do you have a death wish?”

  “I do not,” I answered. “Neither do I wish to see my clan die under the rule of a madman who puts himself above his people. And I think all of Clan Hakon feels the same.”

  “Oh, do they?” he sneered. “You hear that, boys?” Magnus shouted to the warriors standing around him. “Torben here doesn’t think I’m fit to rule. Does that mean you are challenging me for Clan Hakon?”

  “It does,” I answered. “Your reign is over. As is our custom, I offer you the opportunity to step aside without bloodshed. Otherwise, the fight is to the death.”

  I took a step back and lowered my sword. Though I was filled with hatred for the man and wanted to stab him through the heart before he said another word, I wouldn’t cut him down without an offer of mercy. That wasn’t our way. Despite everything that had happened and how I felt about him personally, I had to show my clan that we were no longer savages. We no longer killed and maimed without purpose. We would fight to the death to defend our clan, but we no longer harmed innocents.

  “You don’t understand, Torben,” he said. “You never have. I am Clan Hakon. These men behind me? They are Clan Hakon, not that pathetic rabble of women and children you’re trying to protect. Clan Hakon is strong, and they are strong because of me!” he yelled, banging his fist against his chest.

  “No, you don’t un
derstand,” I growled at him. “Clan Hakon is strong in spite of you. Clan Hakon is strong because of its people. We are strong because of the shieldmaidens who protect our village while we are off on your foolish raids. We are strong because of the wisdom of our honored elders, those men and women who can no longer take care of themselves, but who’ve made us the clan we are today and still guide us when necessary. We are strong because of our clan’s young ones, who are learning every day how to be strong men and women of Clan Hakon. Those young men who are learning how to treat their females with love and respect, protecting and providing for them. Those young women who are learning how to be caring mothers and suitable helpmates for their men. They are the indispensable bond that holds our families together. Our clan members give strength to their leader, not the other way around. The jarl should be one who serves the clan, not one who demands to be served as you have done.”

  “Pretty words, Torben. But that’s all they are—words. Clan Hakon will always follow action. It will always follow strength.”

  “They will follow the one who is worthy, as they always have.”

  “And you think you’re that man?” Magnus challenged.

  “It doesn’t matter what I think,” I replied. “It matters what they think.” I gestured at the men and women behind me on the beach. Magnus stared past my shoulder at his former clanmates. I could see the hesitation in his eyes. Then I saw something else. Past Magnus, standing on the deck of the longship, I saw the signal I’d been waiting for. Rush was waiving a white cloth attached to the end of a long polearm.

  “I’ll ask you one last time, Magnus. Will you step aside?”

  “I’m done playing games, Torben. Stand down now, or I’ll give my man the signal and that longboat sails away.” Magnus again raised his hand high in the air.

  “No, you won’t. Take a look.” I grinned as I pointed my sword past him.

  Slowly, he took a step backward and glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Rush pitch Ragnar over the gunwale of the ship. His lifeless form splashed into the water.

  “You coward!” Magnus charged at me, swinging his axe wildly. I stepped aside, dodging the blade easily. He spun in a flash, though, and I was forced to duck low to keep my head. I brought my sword around in a counterstrike, and Magnus held the axe up just in time to block my blade. Steel met steel in a vibrating clang that shook my arm all the way up to my shoulder.

  “You cannot beat me,” Magnus roared, pulling his axe back and swinging it once again at my head. Again, I stepped aside, but this time I didn’t counter. I merely circled him. I knew the longer the fight lasted, the better chance I’d have to defeat him. Magnus was larger than me, he had the advantage of reach, and his axe was longer than my sword. I wanted to cross weapons with him as little as possible. There was a good chance my sword might shatter under the impact if that very large man swinging a very large weapon blocked my strikes too many times. Neither of us wore armor, and our leather jerkins would offer no protection. One solid blow from either of our weapons in a vital spot would end the battle.

  “I’ve already beaten you,” I said. “You just don’t know it yet.”

  “You’re too confident, Torben. You forget that I trained you. I know your moves before you make them.” He twirled the axe deftly in his hands and shifted his weight from side to side. Despite his bulk, the man was incredibly agile.

  “Perhaps,” I replied, continuing to circle him, “but you’ve grown lazy. My men and I train harder than ever, while you sit comfortably in your hall, drinking and womanizing.”

  “I will show you how lazy I am,” he said, charging one again. Again, I dodged without countering. Magnus roared in frustration and redoubled his attack. This time, I was forced to block his blade with my sword. We became a whirlwind of limbs and blades as we swung, feinted, and parried each other’s attacks. The bright sun glinted off our weapons and sweat poured from both of our faces as we fought for our lives, neither of us able to gain an advantage. I could feel the surrounding warriors holding their collective breath, waiting to see who would be victorious. Would they have a new jarl, or would they continue under Magnus’ reign of madness?

  Magnus pressed forward with a particularly strong frontal attack. He was trying to use his size and strength to overwhelm me. I parried as best I could but was forced backward. A second too late, I realized there was a large wooden beam behind me, a blackened piece of timber left over from the ships Cathal had burned. My heel caught the wood, and I toppled backward. Magnus sensed his opportunity and leapt, bring the axe down from overhead. His shadow blocked out the sun as the axe head came swinging down at me.

  Rolling away as fast as I could, I expected to feel the thud of the blade landing in the middle of my back, but the axe whizzed past me and landed in the sand where I’d been a second before. I scrambled to my feet, grinning at Magnus to mask my own fear. That was close. I couldn’t afford to be that careless again.

  I dimly noticed in my peripheral vision that my warriors had crept from their defensive places of shelter and stood next to Magnus’ men. They were all watching with bated breath, anxiously awaiting the outcome. The sight of my clansmen and women gave me strength. This was how a clan should stand—united. Magnus had splintered us with his tyrannical leadership. I would bring us back together. It was time to press the attack.

  I rushed at Magnus as he pulled his axe out of the sand, but he blocked just in time, stopping my blade inches from his face. Then he did something unexpected. In a flash, he dropped his axe and grabbed me in a huge bear hug, pinning my arms at my side. I tried my best to break free, but he was too strong. My sword was useless, pinned against my side.

  “You aren’t strong enough,” he snarled at me.

  I only grunted in reply. He was trying to crush the life out of me, and it was working. He pushed me backward, attempting to take me to the ground. There his sheer size and weight would certainly give him the advantage. My first instinct was to try and kick out with my legs. If I could connect with something soft, it might break his hold. But I’d been in enough grapples to know that was a fool’s errand. If I tried to kick him, it would unbalance me, leaving me precariously perched on only one leg. That would inevitably lead to him toppling me and landing on top of my body. Then the fight would be all but over. Instead, I utilized the last weapon that was left to me. I pulled back as far as I could and then brought my head swiftly to his, connecting my forehead with his nose. The effect was instantaneous. There was a sickening crunch, and blood spurted from his nose. He loosened his hold just enough for me to break free. I pushed him away and backed up, sucking in life-giving air.

  Now we stood a few feet apart, his axe lying on the ground between us. We moved toward each other instantaneously. I swung my sword, trying to take advantage of his momentary defenselessness, but he dove for the axe, narrowly ducking my sword strike. He hit the ground, snatching up the weapon and rolling out of harm’s way. I had to admit, I was impressed he could still move so nimbly.

  I didn’t give him time to rest. I pressed my attack again, resisting the urge to swing wildly. I knew better than anyone that efficiency and precision were needed in battle, not reckless attacks that would lead to fatal mistakes. Blood poured from Magnus’ broken nose, but no pain registered on his face.

  Again, and again, axe met sword and sword met axe as we struck and parried, struck and parried, neither of us gaining an advantage. The battle was exhausting. My arms were growing weary. I was sucking in huge gulps of air as I fought to stay focused. One lapse of concentration could spell my doom. Magnus was faring no better. I could see he was tiring as well, but each time I thought his defenses might break, he fought me off. I was certain by now he would have tired enough to make a fatal mistake, but still he fought effectively. I had no idea how long we’d been dueling, but it felt like hours. The crowd around us was silent, except for the occasional gasp when one of us seemed about to finish the battle.

  We paused for a moment, sizing up
one another, each catching our breath and trying to spot a weakness in the other’s defenses. The respite didn’t last long. Simultaneously, we swung at one another again. Our blades met, and then, with a sickening crunch, my worst fear was realized. The sword shattered, breaking apart and falling to the ground, leaving me holding nothing but the hilt. The blade simply wasn’t strong enough to withstand repeated blows from the heavier steel of the axe. I stepped away quickly, staring down at my weapon, which was now just a handle. Then I heard Magnus laughing.

  “It is over, Torben. Yield, and your death will be swift.”

  I laughed back at him. “My days of service to you have passed. I will never yield to you again.”

  “You always were too dumb to know when you were beaten,” he said, advancing. “Have it your way.” He lunged forward and swung the axe. I dodged out of the way, narrowly avoiding having my arm taken off. He swung again and again, and I continued to dodge, but I knew my time was short. I wouldn’t be able to run forever. Eventually, without a weapon to defend myself, he would get close enough to catch me with his blade.

  On and on this dance went, an attack by Magnus, a dodge by me. I could feel the tension in the warriors surrounding us. They were no longer watching a battle for leadership of the clan; they were watching the inevitable demise of their former clanmate at the hands of their vicious jarl. Clan law forbade anyone from intervening to help me. They couldn’t even offer me a replacement sword. To them, the fact that my sword had broken was simply the gods’ way of choosing Magnus as leader over me.

  I searched the ground for anything I might use as a weapon. I had an idea, but it was desperate. It would take perfect timing and a serious amount of luck. I feigned exhaustion, which wasn’t much of a feint at this point. If this battle went on much longer, I would collapse where I stood. I slowed my movements, letting the axe get closer and closer to me before I dodged. I could see on Magnus’ face my actions were having the desired effect. He was grinning now, stalking me like a mountain lion. He knew he’d won. Now he was just savoring the victory. Still though, try as he might to catch me with his axe, I was always just out of reach.