Tur: An Elsker Saga Novella

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter One

BREATHE, INGA. YOU’VE got this.

An angry god was coming at me from across the clearing, legs pumping with decent speed. He was a blur of red hair and clenched fists, the visible embodiment of rage. Thick, blue veins pulsed beneath muscular forearms, and I could feel the fury seething from every pore. I managed to avoid the first series of punches, but the livid deity landed a fast uppercut that sent me flying. My ears rang as I shook my head, evicting the stars behind my eyes. It wasn’t like me to miss a sucker-punch.

I jumped to my feet just in time. The god charged at me like a Celtic dancer -- head down, arms at his sides. Interesting approach. I sidestepped him, but he circled around, hooking my neck with one arm and forcing me down. He pounced with outstretched hands, clearly aiming for my throat. I tucked my knees over my head so he landed face first in the dirt. He came up, spitting bark and angrier than ever.

“Good,” I murmured as the god started circling. “Now I’ve gotcha.” When he lunged again, I caught his fist between two hands. His eyes widened as I squeezed. Hard. When I heard his knuckles crack, I bent my knees and pushed off the balls of my feet. I threw my arms across my chest, hurtling my opponent off the ground. He landed on his back, the air leaving his lungs in a painful sound. I left him clutching a complete set of broken fingers.

“Nice effort, Christian.” I tilted my head and offered a hand to help him up. “You nearly got me a few times there. Do you know where you went wrong?”

My student glared as he hoisted himself up with his good arm. “Nei. But Odin knows you’re going to spell it out for me.”

“It’s not my idea of a good time to teach you basic combat skills on Sunday morning. You’re the one who almost got himself killed in Jotunheim last week. Not me.”

“That wasn’t my fault, the--”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care if they shoved starkweed root under your fingernails and used voodoo to make you sprout a second head. Your commander asked me to get you up to speed so you don’t get anyone else in your unit killed. And it’s my day off. So hurry up and tell me what you did wrong.”

“The guys were right about you. You’re a nightmare.” My charge cradled his broken hand. What a baby. While I normally enjoyed my job as Fight Choreographer and Chief Tactical Advisor for Asgard’s warriors, some days, it could be a royal pain. Since Christian had neither stopped whining nor improved his attack in the past ninety minutes, this morning garnered a royal pain checkmark.

“Thank you. Now, tell me where you went wrong.”

“Uh…” Christian glared at me. He was probably wondering how a girl just beat him at hand to hand. They were all like that the first time we worked together. Seasoned warriors cherished private sessions with me. Greenhorns loathed them.

“Where was your head two minutes ago?” I probed.

“I wanted to kill you.”

“That’s good.  But you were coming from an emotional place. Combat’s all about strategy. If you’ve got too much going on here,” I tapped his chest, “Then you can’t focus on what should be going on here.” He ducked before I could tap his head. Touchy little bugger.

“Fine. Let’s go again.”

“Can you stay in your head this time, or do you need to cool it for a few minutes? If you’re going to last more than a week at this job, you better learn to shut down your emotions. Find a little switch inside and just--” I flicked my finger in the air. “Turn it off. You have to want to kill me for the right reasons. And those reasons aren’t here.” I tapped his heart. Christian grimaced.