The Hallway Confrontation
As Aiya adjusted the strap of her mother’s sword across her chest, her eyes flicked to Adia, who had removed her cloak. Twin iron axes hung from a finely braided leather belt at her hips. These weren’t ordinary weapons—they were masterfully crafted, their polished silver blades reflecting the firelight, while sapphires encrusted the hilts, shimmering like stars. The grips were wrapped in pale cream leather, their elegant design betraying their deadly purpose.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” Adia said with a sly smile, gesturing toward the door. “Shall we?”
Aiya returned the smirk, the tension in her chest easing. “Let’s.”
Together, they stepped into the dim corridor, their footsteps purposeful.
---
Indride's Treachery
Indride leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes narrowing as he observed Ragda across the Great Hall. The firelight danced along his weathered face, deepening the shadows of his scowl.
“She is an impostor, Ragda. Your father was as blind as Einar and Aiyowind before him,” Indride sneered, gripping the edge of the table. “Do you think I’ll step aside for some girl claiming to be the heir? She’ll die—just as her mother and father did.”
Ragda’s jaw tightened. “My father was not blind. He believed in the will of the gods, just as I do.”
Indride’s lip curled, his voice rising. “Open your eyes, nephew! She murdered your brother—my dearest nephew—and yet you sit here defending her?”
“It was Dagr who killed my father,” Ragda shot back, his tone sharper now. “Aiya acted justly. Her actions were honorable.”
Indride leaned forward, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Perhaps you’ve been bewitched. Has she warmed your bed, nephew? Is that why you—”
“Enough!” Ragda’s fist slammed into the table, the sound echoing through the hall. “She bears the mark of Einar. The gods have spoken. There is nothing you or anyone else can do to change it.”
But Ragda didn’t see the subtle signal Indride gave his guards. Two of the men slipped from the hall, their movements unnoticed in the rising tension.
---
An Ambush in the Shadows
Adia halted suddenly, her hand tightening around Aiya’s arm. Her eyes flicked toward the end of the dim corridor.
“We’re being followed,” she whispered.
The faint echo of quickened footsteps grew louder, and Aiya turned just in time to see two massive men barreling toward them, axes raised.
The women drew their weapons in unison, steel singing as it left its sheath. The first man swung his heavy ax at Aiya’s head, but she ducked, the blade burying itself into the wooden wall behind her. She pivoted, kicking him hard in the back, sending him sprawling forward. Adia was already locked in a fierce dance with the second attacker, her movements swift and precise, evading each deadly swing.
Aiya barely had time to recover before her opponent regained his footing, snarling as he yanked his ax free. He swung again, a wide arc aimed at her ribs. She dodged, the force of his swing throwing him off balance. She seized the moment, slicing across his back with her mother’s sword.
The man let out a guttural roar, spinning to face her with murderous rage. Blood seeped through his tunic, but he showed no signs of slowing. He lunged again, his ax aimed for her chest. Aiya sidestepped, her blade flashing as she slashed his abdomen. His momentum carried him forward, his body crumpling to the floor, entrails spilling onto the cold stone.
Aiya knelt, staring at her mother’s sword, the blood glistening on its edge. Her chest heaved as she processed what she had done, the scent of death heavy in the air. Despite the gore around her, she felt an unexpected calm—like this was what she had been meant to do all along.
---
Interrogation and Revelation
“Who sent you?” Adia demanded, her ax pressed to the throat of the remaining attacker, who knelt before her.
The man spat blood at her feet, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “You won’t live out the night,” he rasped. His gaze shifted to Aiya, his yellowed teeth bared in a cruel smile. “She won’t, either.”
Adia didn’t flinch. She kneed him hard in the stomach, and he doubled over, coughing violently.
“Now send me to Valhalla,” he snarled.
Without hesitation, Adia stepped back and swung her ax with brutal precision. The blade split his skull with a sickening crack, his body crumpling to the floor.
Aiya flinched, the sound making her stomach churn. “We needed answers!”
Adia wiped the blood from her ax, her expression unyielding. “We already know, my sweet.” She turned, her gaze steady and resolute. “Indride.”
Aiya’s blood ran cold. “Indride?”
Adia nodded grimly. “He’s the one who let the Norwegians into the castle the night your parents were murdered. And now, he means to finish what he started.”
---
A Race to the Great Hall
The two women broke into a run, their boots echoing against the stone floor as they made their way to the Great Hall. The weight of their weapons was a comforting reminder of their strength, but Aiya’s heart pounded with a mix of fear and fury.
As they neared the hall, Adia’s voice rang out, firm and commanding. “Stay sharp, Aiya. This is only the beginning.”
Together, they pushed open the heavy doors, ready to face the traitor who had set everything into motion.
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A Viking's Rage
Historical Fiction[2018 Watty's Shortlist] In a brutal world ruled by cruelty and power, Aiya is nothing more than a slave-her life defined by servitude and pain. But when her ruthless Lord betrays her and Northumbria falls under siege by Norse invaders, Aiya's life...
