3 book of the series
Feeling the anger well up, she slowly rose from the table, " No one will come and save us! Alfred will marry a Mercian lady, and they will form a strong alliance to overthrow these heathens" -her eyes bore deeply into Elfreda's...
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He pulled out his sword. A squeak left Aethelthryth's lips as he charged towards her, slicing at her. Arne jumped from the table, throwing the knife at the attacker's shoulder. The man hissed and quickly turned. Soon both of the soldiers charge at Arne, clearly seeing him as the biggest threat. Arne hid behind the table, his hand grabbing the wooden plate and smashing one of the attacker's head with it. Aebbe yelled at him to stop while slowly backing into the wall. Aethelthryth guessed that she didn't like them attacking soldiers of her kingdom. Aebbe might've offered help, but that still didn't change the fact that she was loyal to Northumbria, not Danish barbarians.
Arne pulled out one of the chairs before smashing it with might into another attacker's head. He jumped over the table, kicking the man that picked himself from the force of the plate. His hand grabbed the attacker's wrist, and Arne twisted, making an echoing snap of bones resounded around them. He grasps the sword that the man let go with a painful yelp before rotating it and pushing it into the man attacking him from behind. He pulls the sword out, twirling around, still holding the other man's wrist, and slicing the already bleeding man across his throat.
Blood splatters around them, making every woman in the room scrunch their noses. Arne pulls the last man closer to him, by his already broken wrist, and forces his sword into his gut. The man cries out, his eyes widening before he slumps forward. Arne pushes him off with a scoff of disgust.
"How could you do this!" Aebbe's voice breaks the silence. Arne looks at her, his hand tightening on the sword, and takes a step forward. Elfreda gasps, making Aethelthryth turn around. Just in time to watch as Ronja pulls the woman by her hair and slices her neck open with a knife. Aethelthryth is left gawking, horrified.
Elfreda whimpers, "Why would you kill her?!" Ronja gives her a hard stare, "She would've told the next soldiers where we are heading" —she turned to Aethelthryth with a blaming look— "I could see her eavesdropping on your conversation outside. She clearly knew we wanted to head to Newcastle. Better kill her then have her point to us!" She turned to Arne, giving him a nod of appreciation. Aethelthryth kept quiet. Why did she know something like this would happen?
Ronja staggered, supporting herself by the wooden wall. Arne nods at them, "We'll put Ronja in the cart and take some food." He quickly sweeps Ronja into his arms, and Elfreda puts Ragnar into her arms. Aethelthryth looks around herself for the last time before making her way to the cart. Wherever they've gone, blood followed.
*
They've ridden for hours now with small breaks for bathroom. Aethelthryth could tell that it was taking them longer because of the cart. But Ronja was still weak to walk. Even though she said she wasn't. Baby Ragnar cried only for a few minutes before calming down. Arne said it was because he screamed the whole night after he was born. Aethelthryth looked at the fierce killer. Ronja was sitting up, holding her child, she was smiling at him, and her finger trailed over his face. Elfreda sat next to Arne at the front of the cart, helping him reign the horse. She sat at the back of the cart, one leg hanging over.
"We should reach Newcastle tonight," after Aethelthryth's words, silence followed once more. She swung her leg in boredom. By now, Gorm might've reached Newcastle. After all, he was on horseback and ridden alone. Everything was eerily calm until she heard whistling. She turned around, looking into the trees. There was no one there. With furrowed brows, she turned to Ronja, who was watching the trees calculatingly. Another whistle. Her head snapped to the woods. She still saw no one.
Suddenly arrow hit the wood of the cart, and the next thing she saw were men running from the woods. Thieves. Arne sighed, pulling out his axe and the soldier's sword that he conveniently stole. Ronja took the other axe, one hand clutching the babe.
Aethelthryth shook her head, "You shouldn't go there. You are still weak." Ronja growled and stepped forward. More men came from the forest, and her eyes widened. A large group of thieves wasn't uncommon, but around twenty was a lot.
Ronja scowled at her, "Keep my baby safe. I'll deal with these bastards." With those words, she pushed the baby into her arms and slowly climbed out of the cart. Arne twirled his sword before jumping off, and advancing towards the incoming group. Ronja gripped the handle tighter, her face distorting in pain. Elfreda grabbed the other sword from the dead soldier. She stood before the opening of the cart, grip tight, but her eyes shone with determination.
Aethelthryth felt her heart quicken as the group pushed forward with vigor. Soon even Elfreda was occupied slicing the sword from side to side. Not that she knew any other moves. Aethelthryth cradled the child as one of the men clambered onto the cart from the horse's side. He hissed at her, almost like a deranged animal. She grabbed the thing closest to her, which was the bag with bread. She scoffed at the bag before focusing on the man who started slicing at her.
She swiped with the bag pushing the sword out of the way, her left hand feeling weird. Then she balled her hand into a fist and struck. She punched the man straight into his jaw. Both of them hissed at the impact, and Aethelthryth gritted her teeth. The baby in her arms started wailing uncontrollably. She gripped the man's head with all her might and pushed his face into the cart. The man cried out, his nose probably breaking.
Her grip tightened on his hair, "I'm holding a baby arsehole!" With an angry scoff, she smashed his head again, ignoring the pain in her hand. Suddenly blood splattered all over her, and she was suddenly holding only the man's head.
She shrieked and threw the head away. Her head snapped to the person who was standing behind the man. Ubbe stood there with blood all over him being, hit less since he stood behind the man. Her eyes slit over him in a heated stare. He looked delicious. She turned to the louder noise of swords clashing. Ivar was pulling Ronja from underneath another man, and other Vikings were slicing left and right. It looked like Gorm got there much sooner than expected, and now their rescue party was here.
