Blasphemy [Finan the Agile]

CHAPTER xii. 'His Choice'

ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

CHAPTER xii. 'His Choice'

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            Freydis' arms weighed heavy as she carried her sword with one hand and her shield with the other. Both herself and Finan had been practicing swordskill since the early morning, now it was well past lunchtime and the Irish Lady was heavily regretting her decision to negotiate with the virtuous bastard. Freydis side-stepped as Finan swung his sword in her direction, she turned in the mud with her foot catching on a stone as she then blocked her back-end with her shield and swung her own sword back at the Irishman. He caught it in his shield and tugged it to the point that Freydis was hastily unarmed; before she could have a moment to prepare, she felt the point of a blade pressed against her jugular to which she angrily sighed.

"Dead." Finan smirked, "What did yu' do wrong?"

Freydis lifted her foot out of the mud, losing her shoe in the process, "I agreed to practice swordskill with a bastard."

"Ha-ha," Finan mocked, "yu' kept yu'r foot in the mud to avoid splashing mud on yu'rself, Lady. In a swordfight yu' cannot worry about such atrocities."

Freydis rolled her eyes, hopping on one foot as she leant down to retrieve her boot from the sunction of the mud. "Good to know , I'll be sure to apply this knowledge to our practice tomorrow."

Finan shook his head, "No, we keep going. We may not be here much longer, we must practice before Uhtred gets back and tells us where to go next."

Freydis sighed, "Fine, Finan," she said, strapping her boot back around her foot. "But after all this I must be the greatest warrior to ever live."

The Irishman smirked and stood at the ready with his sword in his left hand and shield in his right. Freydis, equally, cracked her wrists to relieve some pressure before mimicking his actions in a ready stance. Over their course of training there had been many onlookers, most of which had been intimidated men subjugated by the concept of a woman wielding a sword. Finan took a step forward, swinging his sword backward as Freydis lifted her own protectively to counteract his attempt. She drew back her sword, allowing his to collide with her shield as she swung the blade at his legs. Finan jumped, knocking her sword out of her hands with the smack of his shield and placing his blade, again, against her neck. He laughed, "How did yu' survive the battle, Lady, if yu' are so easily defeated?"

Freydis' face flushed red, "Quiet, soith." Bitch. "I'm tired, Finan. I cannot fight well if my arms challenge to deceive me!"

"And what does that matter?" He inquired, "do yu' think a warrior has never grown fatigued in battle? Do yu' think I  have never grown fatigued in battle?"

"If you had I would be particularly rested as of right now."

"Ouch," Finan mused, clutching his heart. "Sinful, Lady. Truly."