Iron Fire

XII

Brenna piled pieces of wood onto the fire pit and grabbed a Flint stone and a piece of steel. She scraped the pieces together, emitting orange sparks. The flames soon emersed the dried wood.

She smiled as she picked up her prized sword her father had fashioned for her. She admired the leather hilt made from dried deer skin.

Her finger traced the engraving on the shaft of the hilt. A single design of a noble dragon was etched into it's surface.

It was her father's crest. She carried it with honor as she admired it. She let her finger graze the blade made from pure steel.

She had been so entranced in her beautiful sword given to her when she turned sixteen summers; she did not hear the man approaching her.

A strong hand set on her shoulder and she used the butt of her sword and rammed it into the man's stomach. He doubled over in pain as an 'oof' sound escaped his lips.

She had noticed it was Torsten, but she did not care.

She kicked his legs out from under him and fell onto the hard packed dirt floor.

She placed her foot on his chest and pointed the tip of her sword to his Adam's apple.

"One should know better sneaking up on a shield maiden! You must be as daft as you look!" She sneered.

He stared into her bright eyes and smirked. With lightening fast reflexes, he grasped her ankle with one hand and the other on the tip of her boot.

He twisted her foot, knocking her off balance. She fell on her backside with a thud.

Torsten knocked the sword out of her hand when she was still processing what had happened.

He drove her sword deep into the hard earth. So far he thought no matter how hard she pulled, she would not free it.

A feral growl left her throat as she stood and shoved his chest backwards.

He merely laughed as he gripped her wrists in his large, calloused hands.

She tried to tear her body away, but fatigue was growing as her adrenaline weakened.

She grew aware of the painful searing in her wounds and fought the urge to hiss.

"What was that little stunt you pulled a few minutes ago?" He said with a raised brow.

"Intimidated by a boy whom gained my first kiss?" She asked with a knowing smile as she tilted her head.

Torsten did not anger easily, but upon seeing her blatant disregard for respect, this irritated him. No woman had dared disrespect him in such a way.

"Where I come from, women who commit adultery are stoned for their crime." He said in a low tone.

She laughed cynically.

"As if you have not lain with many women on your conquests, Northman!" She snapped.

His face hardened. He could feel anger coursing through his veins. He remained silent as he tried to curb his anger.

"Ja? Did I hit a nerve? Why must women be virtuous and pure while the men are out horing themselves out to anything with legs?"

Torsten's face burned crimson in rage. It was true. He had lain with many women. That is what angered him the most. She was right.

"Do not dare to speak to me that way, woman!" He threatened.

Brenna gasped as he whirled her around and pressed her back firmly against the wall.

Anger rushed through her like lightning. She freed one hand and struck him hard across the face.

"How do you expect to earn my respect when you have none for me?" She snarled.

Torsten rubbed his stinging cheek. Then, he set his jaw.

"Woman, I swear to Odin-!"

"You will what? Huh? Beat me? Go on, show me how much a coward you really are! I am ready! Strike me!"

He stared at her and furrowed his brows. He had never laid his hand on a woman and never would. Something made him think she had endured abuse before.

"I would never dare lay a hand on my bride. However, I might be so inclined to smack your rump when you misbehave." He said in an even tone.

Her eyes showed pure anger.

"Unhand me or you lose both hands! I do not want your filthy hands disgracing my body!"

He chuckled heartily.

He leaned into her ear and his lips grazed the sensitive skin.

"One day you will be begging to have my hands on you, elska."

His breath tickled her ear and she felt a sensation run up her spine. The electric current ran through her body and spread to her lower abdomen.

She growled and shoved him backwards with all her might. He stumbled a bit, but regained his balance.

To his surprise she ripped the sword out of the Earth and pointed it at his chest.

She pressed the dirt covered tip to his sternum and applied pressure to the skin beneath his tunic.

He felt the sharp pain of the blade cutting his skin. He backed away, relieving the pressure.

She advanced forward until he was outside the hut. She pushed him backwards and slammed the door shut in his face.

With a thunk, she slid the wooden slab into the slot. Now she ensured no one would bother her.

She nearly collapsed on the straw bed and sighed as she felt her wounds aching.

Torsten sat on his rump outside, dumbfounded. This woman was truly something else.

He smirked as he walked away from her hut.