Iron Fire

IX

Brenna and the women charged outside, forming a tight knit circle around the safe hut.

The invaders we're big and barbaric looking. The scout came running back with an arrow sticking out from her back.

Blood dripped onto the snow as she collapsed.

"Elva!" One of the women cried out at the loss of her younger sister.

"Stand firm, women. Remember who we are fighting for. The children."

The women were a group of only twenty. The invaders had at least had thirty. Whichever it was, they were outnumbered.

The archers shot flaming arrows into the crowd of invaders. Some of them hit their marks, others did not.

The shield maidens ran forward with a rallying battle cry. They dueled with the men, holding back as many as possible.

The axe maidens tossed axes. Brenna watched as they expertly hit the men in the chest, stomach or cut their head clean off.

Astrid and Brenna charged forward into battle.

Brenna swung her mighty sword and lopped off a man's head. It fell to the ground and rolled a few feet.

The next man came at her and she blocked his attack with her shield.

She yelled as she ripped her sword upwards across his abdomen, spilling his entrails.

She stabbed another man through his heart. With a burst of adrenaline, she yanked it from his chest and used her shield to knock over a couple invaders.

One of the fallen stabbed her in the leg on the way down.

Brenna cried out, but held firm. She brought her sword down on his head and it went rolling downhill.

She could feel the blood rushing from her wound, but she was determined to defend her people.

She had slayed three more beasts before she looked around. Her women were on the ground, blood pooling around them.

The snow was now tainted a dark crimson color.

Only two remained besides her and Astrid. Not counting Ingrid with the children.

Just then the men of the village ran from the shore, weapons in hand. They were back.

And they were ready for a fight. In her haste she had forgotten the number one rule. Do not get distracted by your opponent.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a sword charging towards her.

At the last second, she spun. The tip of the sword grazed her ribs and she hissed in pain.

Brenna brought her sword down on top of the man's head, splitting his skull vertically.

Blood splattered over her as the men took out the last of the invaders.

By this time, Brenna had lost large amounts of blood. She fell down in the snow.

"Brenna!" Someone called out.

She had already lost consciousness before the person made it to her.

***

Torsten had recognized her immediately by Asmund's description.

She was indeed beautiful. Her long white blonde hair shone in the moonlight as she swung her sword at her attacker.

Blood had pooled from her calf and her eyes flicked to him. In her moment of weakness, her attacker charged at her.

Luckily she saw him just in time. She twisted and the sword grazed her side.

She held a face of pure anger as she brought the sword down on his head, splitting his skull in two.

While the other men were fighting the last few of the invaders, Torsten saw her fall.

"Brenna!" Torsten yelled.

She collapsed in the snow.

He picked her up and cradled her limp body in his arms as he ran to one of the huts.

The clashing of swords had ceased, telling Torsten the threat was eliminated.

Asmund ran after him and entered the hut. Torsten lay her on the bed and yelled at him to bring him some clean water.

He ripped her dress from her body and wrapped her calf tightly in linen cloth. Blood quickly soaked through the thin linen.

Torsten pressed his hand to the wound on her side to stop the blood flow. He could see her ribs. She would need to be branded to close the wounds.

Asmund came back with water and ale. He doused her wounds in ale to cleanse the wounds.

Then he picked up a steel sword from the glowing fire. The blade glowed bright orange.

He mumbled a curse as he pressed the glowing blade against her ribs. He could hear the hiss upon contact, searing her pale flesh.

He was grateful she was unconscious for this as it would be excruciatingly painful.

He wrapped the wound in clean linen and moved on to her calf.

Asmund stood motionless with bated breath. Torsten worked on the gouging hole in her calf. He set the blade back in the fire and waited a a few moments for it to heat up again.

Torsten pressed the blade to her flesh again on each side. He was not sure how it would heal since it was a deep wouund. His worst fear was infection. She would not survive it if it became infected.

He mumbled a prayer to Thor as he wrapped her leg tightly and pulled the covers over her.

He started a fire in the fire pit and sat beside her, waiting.

It was morning when she woke. She stirred and moaned in pain.

"Do not move, my love." He whispers in her ear.

Without warning she springs from the bed and grabs her spare dagger off the floor. She shoves him against the wall and presses the dagger to his throat.

A single drop of blood falls down his neck. She stares at him with anger masking fear. She thinks he cannot see it, but he can.

"State your name!" She yells.

"Torsten Gunnouf." He says as he puts his hands up.

She does not seem to care she is naked. Either that or she does not know.

Her eyes widen in realization as she steps away from him. Her frail body loses energy as she stumbles back.

Torsten catches her in his arms. He lays her tired body back on the bed. The burning pain from her wounds was excruciating. She had no energy left.

Her forest green eyes stare into his blue ones and she immediately feels a fire burning in her heart.

However, she was no prize to be won. And she intended to prove it. She would make him work for her.