What the fuck did this mean? And how was it connected to Astrid?
Chapter 10
The Norse warriors’ armory had always been a place where Astrid could find peace and tranquility, but this time the repetitive motions of cleaning and polishing did nothing to soothe her agitation. She’d been restless ever since they left Denver two days ago. Her berserker paced endlessly, and her body ached as if she was running a low fever. Which was unusual, since the immortal Vikings and Valkyries didn’t succumb to regular human diseases. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and slid the whetstone along the edge of her smallsword once more. A perfectly sharpened sword needed to be sharp enough to pierce flesh, but if she overdid it, the too-thin edge would dull quickly during a fight.
The door opened, and Ulf walked in. “So this is where you’re hiding.” His blond crew cut’s lines were as sharp as ever, and his blue eyes glittered with mischief. Although it was only April, his face was already tanned.
“I’m not hiding.” She was just avoiding certain individuals. Smart-ass Ulf included.
“The king wants to speak with you.”
And the king was definitely another person on her to-avoid list. “What does he want?” Astrid asked.
Ulf raised one eyebrow. “You really have to ask?”
She sighed. No, she didn’t have to ask. The king wanted to discuss disciplinary actions for going rogue while retrieving Scott from Denver. Actually, discuss was not the right word. Declare fit better. “What time?”
“He said to give him about an hour to finish up some emails, but then you better have your ass in one of the chairs in front of his desk.”
Astrid wiped off the blade of her smallsword with a soft cloth. “How angry is he?” She regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth and couldn’t look at Ulf. She didn’t want to see the gloating in his eyes.
Instead of the flippant comment she expected, Ulf put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Hey,” he said. “Are you okay?”
Startled, she looked up. “I’m fine.” She could tell from his eye roll that he didn’t believe her any more than she did herself. Ulf and she were not friends though, more like competitors. They never had heart-to-hearts where they shared their feelings. More like fist-to-fists with shared blows.
He pulled his hand back. “You can talk to me, you know.” His eyes were solemn. “I know we’re not close, but you’re one of my battle sisters. I worry about you.”
“Okay,” she hedged. This was weird. Did he mean he worried that she wouldn’t be able to hold her own in a fight? Or, was he actually concerned about her mental and physical health? “But there is no reason to worry. I’ll be fine.” Provided the king’s punishment wasn’t too severe. They’d never had a warrior breach protocol as badly as she had. She had no idea what to expect. She debated asking Ulf what he thought the king might do, but changed the topic instead. “Are Naya and Scott still catching up?” When Astrid and Scott arrived a few hours ago, the queen had immediately pulled her brother away for a private talk.
Ulf rolled his eyes again. “They are. And there’s some crying too, mostly from Naya. They’re in the game room. I had to leave the computer room because I could hear the queen sobbing through the door.” The computer room door was at the back of the large game room, which was filled with big-screen TVs and every game console imaginable. Astrid wasn’t much into gaming, but the male warriors spent hours killing pixelated soldiers and mythical creatures. She thought fighting creatures in the real world was thrilling enough.
“Is the queen going to be at my meeting with the king?” Eventually she’d have to sit down with her friend and apologize for her behavior. But she wasn’t ready to explain why she hadn’t called the fortress for help when she couldn’t find Scott. Wasn’t ready to explain that it was easier to trust Holden than to admit defeat to her fellow warriors. Wasn’t ready to talk about Holden at all.
“I have no idea,” Ulf answered. “You look like you could work off some energy though. Care to spar while you wait to see the king?”
His abrupt change of topic confused her at first, but exercise would help her with the restlessness she didn’t seem to be able to shake. “Swords?” she asked. Ulf wasn’t likely to go for her suggestion. Her former fencing master and lover, Henri, had been one of the very best. He had shown her how the smallsword was a weapon perfectly suited to her natural fighting skills. The sword was a cousin to the more famous rapier, but shorter and lighter. Henri had taught Astrid to use it during its most popular time in history, and she’d had two hundred years since then to practice her skills.
Ulf cocked his head, a slow smile stretching his lips. “Sure, but only if we pick broadswords this time.” Last time they’d fenced with smallswords, Astrid had beaten him soundly, and he’d lost a bet in the process. Apparently he’d learned his lesson.
The heavier two-edged broadsword was not one of Astrid’s favorites. She’d rather fight with fists or knives, but Ulf’s challenging tone of voice made it impossible to back down. “No problem,” she said and put the sharpened and polished smallsword away. Each of the warriors had their own weapons cabinet, and Astrid had three Viking broadswords in her arsenal. Even if she preferred not to use them in a real fight, she used them in training. The heavy blade built up arm and wrist muscles in no time. She retrieved her favorite broadsword from its stand.
The sword had a hilt large enough for a two-handed grip, and she swung it through the air to test its weight.
Ulf’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? You want to fight with real swords?”
Astrid hid a smile and shrugged. “If you’re not man enough, we can use training swords. Do you want wooden bokkens or synthetic ones?”
“Synthetic,” Ulf threw over his shoulder as he strode to the communal cabinet that held a wide variety of practice weapons. He pulled out a black sword made out of heavy polypropylene. About two-thirds of the weight of a regular sword, the weapon still simulated a good approximation of the heft of a regular sword because its center of mass was close to the handle. Although it didn’t cause as much damage on contact, it still hurt. Astrid had received more than a few bruises during sparring, but at least the weapon wouldn’t maim or kill.
She took the sword Ulf handed her but shook her head when he held up a padded vest. The garment would protect her but also slow her down and make quick maneuvers harder. She did pull on some gloves though. Wielded with enough speed, the practice swords could crush knuckles and fingers.
The armory connected to a large barn used as the training arena and gym. Half of the area was covered in floor mats and designed for combat sparring. The other half contained punching bags, a boxing ring, and treadmills for use when the track outside was covered in snow.
Astrid followed Ulf to the floor mats and took her position across from him. They bowed to show their respect for each other and their weapons. Astrid then held back to see what Ulf would do next. Ulf had died back in the mid-1000s and trained with the rest of Odin’s warriors in Valhalla until he’d been returned to the human realm only eighty years past.
Although he’d picked up additional weapon skills and hand-to-hand combat techniques since entering the mortal realm, his swordsmanship was the same as when he’d been a marauding Viking. Basically, he had very little technique and relied mostly on brute strength. The problem with training in Valhalla was that time passed differently there. Centuries could feel like only a few weeks, and each of the Vikings and Valkyries who trained together had died in the same century, so they reinforced only the fighting skills they already knew.
Even before she died and became one of Freya’s Valkyries, Astrid had relied on speed and agility to win against more massive opponents. And since her opponents were mostly male, she always had to be faster and more agile. She swung the sword in a circle, switching her grip from hand to hand. Even if the heavy blade wasn’t her first cho
ice of weapon, it still felt familiar in her hands. She was confident she could match Ulf’s skills and even beat him.
Henri’s training had enhanced her natural skills, no matter which blade she fought with. Thinking about Henri always made her angry, and she swung the sword with more power. She’d felt deeply for the French fencing master, and when he chose war and glory over their relationship, the betrayal had cut deep. Henri had been a soldier through and through. Maybe that was why she’d recognized the warrior nature in Holden so quickly during their rescue mission. He had the same intense focus as Henri. Would Luke also choose duty over her?
Wait, where did that thought come from? She and Luke didn’t have a relationship. There would be no choices.
She forced thoughts of both Henri and Luke out of her mind. She needed to concentrate on only one male at the moment, and he was standing right in front of her.
Ulf held his sword loosely in his left hand, which was his dominant and another reason it was tricky to fight him. It was like fighting a mirror image of what she expected from an opponent.
Astrid held the hilt of her weapon in both hands by her right hip, the blade raised at a thirty degree angle. She’d placed her left hand below the right so that her dominant right could control the power of the sword while the left could twist and steer.
“You’re different since you returned from Denver,” Ulf said.
She kept her gaze on his eyes, watching for the tiny flicker that would broadcast an attack. “How so?”
“Your berserker has been intense, close to the surface, for several months.” He cocked his head and sidestepped to his left. “I can still feel her, but she’s not as erratic.”
Astrid moved with him and briefly checked the mental connection she had with her berserker. “My inner warrior is focused on its opponent and the upcoming fight. That always calms it.”
Ulf shook his head. “No, it’s more than being battle ready. I can’t quite describe it, but it’s as if she is more present.”
“You’re just trying to distract me. And stop calling it ‘she.’”
He slowly twirled his sword by rotating his wrist. “What gender do you think your berserker is?”
“I don’t care.” She hadn’t actually thought about it that much. Her inner warrior had always been an “it” to her. She knew it was technically part of her person, but it felt more like a burden. Like she had a beast inside that wanted to get out. Her own Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She mentally shook herself. Now was not the time to philosophize about the weird dual nature of her personality. She needed to concentrate on her opponent instead.
“The only other time I’ve experienced the same intense presence of a berserker was when our king first met his själsfrände.” Ulf kept twirling his sword in slow circles, a lazy smile on his lips. “His inner warrior recognized his destined soul mate before he himself did. Is there something you’re not telling me, sweet Astrid?”
His words made her skin feel cold and clammy all over. Her berserker couldn’t possibly have honed in on Astrid’s soul mate. It supposedly happened the first time the people destined to be together made physical contact. And she hadn’t met anyone she didn’t know from before. Unless Scott… No, Ulf was just trying to distract her. Besides, the berserker had first talked to her before she met Scott. She had been with Holden—she cut off that train of thought quickly and shook off her unease. “Stop yapping and concentrate on the fight.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Sounds like you don’t want to face the truth, but if you say so.” Ulf leaned forward, holding his sword in front of his torso with a slightly bent elbow.
Astrid watched his eyes carefully and caught the exact moment their focus became more intense. Ulf lunged, thrusting his sword at her torso. She easily parried right, blocking his blade, and then counterattacked with a downward thrust.
He sidestepped but wasn’t quick enough, and the point of her blade hit his right hip. “Fuck,” he hissed as he took a step back.
Astrid smiled as they circled each other again. Ulf would have a nice bruise where she’d made contact by tomorrow morning. She planned on giving him a few more.
He lunged again with a center thrust, but then feinted at the last minute and turned it into a cross. She swept her sword up to parry center and protect her stomach, but his strike had too much force. Although she slowed it down, the flat side of his heavy rubber blade hit her, and a thud of pain reverberated through her body. She hissed in a breath but kept her brain from acknowledging the hurt. She’d been hurt much worse in combat, and the adrenaline rushing through her body made it easier to ignore the pain.
Ulf attacked again, this time with a thrust toward her heart. She parried again but moved her sword outward, forcing his blade to slide down the length of hers instead of making contact with her body.
His momentum carried him forward while she sidestepped, quickly turned, and immediately counterattacked. Ulf had managed almost to twist around so he was facing her again, but he was slightly off balance. She used that to her advantage and executed a cross to his neck.
He threw his body back, and although she made contact, her sword hit his collarbone instead. Ulf stumbled and she attacked again. This time, she used a basic lunge to his center of gravity, and when he parried center, she twisted her hands so she could trap his blade. The two hilts tangled, and with a flick of her wrist, his sword flew off to the side.
Ulf swore under his breath but quickly stepped backward and widened his stance. Balanced on the balls of his feet, his arms hanging loosely by his sides, he was ready to fight her with only his fists as weapons.
“Want me to lose my sword?” she asked.
He smiled slightly, intently watching her eyes. “Wouldn’t want you to give up your only advantage. After all, you’re just a woman.”
As always, he knew exactly how to push her buttons. Anger quickly welled up inside her, and her first instinct was to immediately throw her blade to the side.
Punish, whispered her berserker, startling Astrid so badly she stumbled back.
Ulf’s nostrils flared, a sign his berserker was awake and alert. “She’s surfaced. Just like I knew she would.” Triumph laced his voice.
Astrid shook herself and raised her sword in front of her, grip steady and feet far enough apart to give her balance but close enough for fast footwork. “My inner warrior is awake and alert, alright.” And the beast was absolutely right. Ulf needed to be punished. He’d manipulated her enough for one fight. Any other time, his verbal challenge would have made her ditch the sword, but not this time. This time, he’d get to know her training sword really well. Especially what it felt like to be hit with it repeatedly.
She feinted left and then sideswiped from the right instead. Hitting his waist with the sharp edge of her sword, she made sure she put extra strength into the cut as she pulled the blade toward her. It would burn his skin even if it didn’t draw blood.
Ulf groaned and gripped his side. She quickly struck at his knuckles with the edge of her sword. Although he yelped, the gloves protected his hand and he was quickly back in his fighting stance.
Astrid grinned. “You’re such a gentleman. Thank you for allowing a weak girlie like me to keep her weapon. I do enjoy using it. Hopefully I won’t break a nail as I kick your ass.”
“Shut up,” he forced out through clenched jaws.
She cocked her head. “You ready for another beating, courtesy of me and my berserker?”
Ulf straightened. “Bring it.”
She raised her sword and lunged as if she’d execute a downward swing. When he raised his fists to block, she adjusted her balance to her back foot, brought back her sword, and instead hook kicked his chin. Ulf fell and landed on his back. Before he could jump back up, she pressed the tip of her blade into his Adam’s apple. “Are we done yet?” she asked.
His blue eyes blazed with so much a
nger it startled her. “Not yet,” he said, gripping her blade with gloved hands. He pushed it sideways away from her, and before she could let go of the hilt, the motion had her off balance. Ulf swiped out with his leg and toppled her.
She landed on her back, the air knocked out of her lungs. As she struggled for breath, Ulf quickly twisted his body so he straddled her hips. He placed his hands on her biceps, pushing them back into the mat and trapping her with his body weight.
Wrong, the berserker yelled, and Astrid had to close her eyes to shut out the noise in her head. She forced her body to relax.
“I do like sparring with you, Astrid,” Ulf said.
She opened her eyes to find him grinning down at her. She so wanted to wipe that grin off his face. She widened her eyes. “Are we done, then?”
He frowned as if he didn’t understand the question, and in his confusion, he eased his grip on her arms.
Astrid bucked her hips, and as he slid forward, she raised her knees and dug her heels into the mat. Using her new leverage, she quickly twisted her body and pressed with her shoulder to throw Ulf off her.
He landed on his side and twisted to raise himself on all fours.
Already on her feet, Astrid kicked him in the stomach as if she were hitting a soccer penalty kick.
Ulf went down again with a loud groan. She pushed on his shoulder with her foot until he was lying on his back, panting with pain. Putting her foot back on the mat, she crouched down beside him and pocked his chest with one gloved finger. “I like sparring with you too, but we’re definitely done now.”
He glared at her, shaking his head.
She laughed at his obstinacy, but the sound turned into a curse as Ulf grabbed the back of her neck. She tried to twist free, but he’d startled her and his grip was strong.
Viking Warrior Rebel Page 11