DIVINE [HVITSERK RAGNARSSON]

7: A STRANGE FEAST

CHAPTER SEVEN - 'A STRANGE FEAST'

"Okay, okay, I need a break." Asta hugged, huffing out a breath as she sat down on the edge of a rock and threw her sword down.
"Are you going to say that in the middle of a battle, farmer girl?" Hvitserk scowled down at her.
"Stop calling me that." Asta furrowed her eyebrows in annoyance as she stared up at him. She was surprised that Hvitserk actually had some kind of nickname for her, even if it was slightly annoying. He had always been somewhat cold towards her and Asta felt that the nickname was a small step in the right direction.

"Stand up." Hvitserk said firmly to the girl as he turned his back to her and picked up a spare sword that one of his brothers probably trained with. A confused look clouded Asta's face as she slowly rose from the rock.
"You're going to fight me. With a proper sword."
"Fi-fight... With a proper sword? You told me I have to train with a wooden-"
"I think you're ready." There was no kindness in his voice as he spoke but Asta wanted to grin. Hvitserk had been training her for weeks now and she could hardly wait for the day when he let her move up to a sword - let alone fight him. It was that part that made Asta slightly nervous.

Hvitserk handed his trainee the spare sword as he unsheathed his own and took up a position opposite the girl, studying her intently to work out how best to fight her. It was Asta that made the first move, her stronger leg lunging forward as her sword reached dangerously for his side. They moved effortlessly around between the trees as they dodged each other and lunged for each other, their swords clanging loudly as they collided in the sky.

"Here," Hvitserk spoke suddenly, ending their sparring and dropping his weapon on the leafy ground. He moved his body behind Asta and her eyes followed him, confused. "If you position your hand like this, you have a much stronger grip."
His fingers took hold of hers as he positioned them on the swords handle. Hvitserk was taller than her, but she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck as he leaned from behind her. He was so close to her skin that she couldn't look up at him, but Asta wasn't even sure she wanted too. Instead, she stared down as their hands touched, before Hvitserk moved away suddenly and retrieved his sword from the ground. Again, nothing. Emotionless.

Asta shook a strange feeling from her chest and moved the sword around in her hand.
"See," Hvitserk nodded toward the weapon. "It is more secure."
Asta nodded in agreement. They fought each other for some time, Hvitserk noticing the improvement in Asta since the day she'd asked him to train her. He didn't point the fact out to her, of course - he didn't want her getting too ahead of herself and making a mistake in battle.

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"I heard your father is going to England. And Bjorn is heading for the Mediterranean." Asta said to Hvitserk as they ended their days training. Usually, he ended her training abruptly, telling her what to work on by herself and leaving her stood in the Ragnarsson's training area alone. However this time the girl was determined to hold some kind of conversation. Hvitserk had a built-up wall, and Asta was determined to find at least a crack in it.
As she spoke, Asta saw Hvitserk's face cloud over instantaneously and she mentally sighed. He didn't respond to her.
"Are you sad? About your father?"
"You know nothing about my father or my relationship with him." Hvitserk grumbled, almost angrier than Thor's thunder strike.
"I wasn't—"
"Just leave it." He mumbled, turning his back to her and picking his sword up from the ground.
"Well, are you going to the feast? For Bjorn?" She tried to calm him down slightly.
"Of course," he answered, still not looking at her, "I'm travelling with him."
Travelling with him. What did he mean?
"You're what?" Asta sounded slightly dumbfounded and she didn't know why. Hvitserk hadn't even noticed that the girl seemed shocked.
"I'm going to the Mediterranean with Bjorn." He finally locked eyes with her.
"You'll be gone for weeks..." Asta breathed out. She didn't know why she cared so much. "What about my training?"
"My purpose in life is not to train you." He almost seethed, and Asta couldn't work out why he was always so angry. "I am a warrior. I'm going to raid. You will have to train by yourself." He snatched the training sword from her hands and stalked into the trees, disappearing in the direction of Kattegat and once again leaving Asta in the clearing alone.