The Steele Wolf Page 13


“Stop it!” I yelled. “Save it for the tourney.”

Fenri started to lower his weapon but a knife appeared out of the drunk’s sleeve and in an instant he had it at Fenri’s throat.

“Tsk tsk. Seems the warrior got distracted by his lover and let his guard down. Not a smart move.”

I was at an impasse with the knife at Fenri’s throat. The drunk had surprised us both, but that just showed us what a smart adversary he was. Before I had a chance to act and try to save Fenri, the Stahler pulled his knife away from Fenri’s throat and backed away. He tucked his knives back into his furs and turned his back on us in a gesture of good will or as an insult to us.

“Slow, both of you are slow. I was expecting more. I don’t know why I keep expecting more from the Valdyrstal, but I’m a bit let down. Tomorrow should be an easy win.” He turned and pointed a hand at Fenri. “If you’re not going to share her, then get her home. Don’t want my prize ruined. And as for you,” he pointed to me and smiled crookedly, “It’s okay, love, I’ll just claim my kiss tomorrow after I win the tourney.” He stepped backwards into the darkness of the forest and was gone.

Chapter 10

The next morning we headed over to the meadow.  Various fighting rings were set up around the field, with a rope circle hammered to the ground. Tents were spread throughout for the clansmen that traveled here and didn’t have any family in town. Other tents held varying aromas of stews and meats that were cooking. A medical tent had been centrally set up close to the fighting rings.  I ducked into a small tent that was the farthest from the fighting arena, the one I had asked Odin to set up for me.

“Thalia, my girl, this is the daftest plan I have ever heard,” Odin said as he greeted me inside the tent. I quickly stripped out of my ceremonial outfit into my pants and shirt as Odin began to buckle me into light fitting leather armor.

“Do you have a better one?” I called back to him cattily.

“Nah, it’s just so crazy it might work.”

I already felt hot as the leather covered me.  I was aiming for light.  Some fighters had dressed themselves with so much armor trying to impress or to look intimidating that it would be their downfall. It would also slow them down and bake them in the sun. I was actually counting on it. When I was outfitted from head to toe, I tucked up my hair and put on my helm, and then began to have serious doubts. I had never fought while wearing armor.

“What’s your plan?” Odin asked me, his face serious as he grabbed my shoulder to stop me from leaving the tent.

“Truthfully?”

“Yes, truthfully, how do you expect to win?” he asked again as he handed me a sword, one that I had become familiar with since I had spent the last week practicing with it whenever Bearen was absent.

“I plan to cheat!” I grinned and then ducked into the crowd. I felt a small pool of sweat begin to drip down my back at the thought of being caught using magic among hundreds of my clan members. It was worth the risk. I was planning to enter the competition and try to win. If I could win, then I could declare myself the Kragh Aru winner and choose to stay single. I would have proven my strength and no one could deny my right to lead or wed when I wanted to. If I somehow couldn’t win, then I would hope that Fenri would.

Making my way towards the fighting arenas, I hung back so I could get a good view of my competition. There were over forty fighters that had shown up to compete for the title of Kragh Aru.

Various shields, swords, axes, and bows were displayed on wooden stands and the fighters were grouped into three groups. Each group would be pitted against each other with the loser being eliminated and the winner moving on to the next round. The winner would need to achieve three points in any combination: one point for disarming the opponent, one point for breaking a shield, and one point if the opponent steps across the rope. I positioned myself so that I wouldn’t be in the same group as Fenri. I didn’t want to be the one to fight him in the first round, or even the second. I hoped I would never have to. I was counting on someone else taking him out, I didn’t know what I would do, if I was actually pitted against him.

We were paired off and I watched as the first set of fighters paired entered my group’s ring. Two very large clan members faced off against each other. One giant of a man with long, braided red hair and beard with a two handed sword was paired against an equally sized blonde clansmen with an oversized battle axe.

The earth shook as they ran towards each other screaming, weapons clashing and the sounds echoing through valley. I did everything I could to not give in and place my hands over my ears at the noise they made. Teeth gritted in determination, spit flying, the two were equally matched. My heart pounded as I realized I couldn’t possibly hope to match them for strength. My rounds would have to be won through speed and agility.

My eyes caught a flash of red fur and I moved so I could watch Fenri’s fight in the other ring. Fenri fought a much larger opponent and danced around him and used quick maneuvers. I saw him feint high and turn and bring the handle of his sword into the gut of the man. The man doubled over in pain and his sword dropped.

Fenri kicked him and the man stumbled backward over the rope. A roar went up from the crowd. Pieces of a broken shield on the ground had indicated that Fenri had already scored one point earlier and it was two more for the win. Another roar went up as the red haired barbarian broke the wooden shield of the blonde fighter in the other ring.

What was I thinking? I couldn’t do this. Faraway had positioned himself with a few other stock horses as close as he could to my arena. I had made sure that he was pampered, well fed and rested before this day came. He deserved it for participating with my crazy plan. And when the day was over, we both would be sore and tired.

When my arena emptied, I was paired with a fighter who actually was shorter and stockier compared to the previous two fighters. It was the one bald headed Stahler. Today his head glimmered with sweat in the sun and he chose to forgo a helm.

I bit my lip in trepidation as I saw the bald one’s weapon of choice. It was a large battle-axe. My sword was half the size of the axe and I stilled in fear. How was I to evade that edge? I hadn’t fought against an axe that size even in training. I almost turned and ran. I now regretted not staying and practicing that day at the Citadel when I refused to fight with a battle-axe.  I’m sure Kael would be laughing now.

My opponent grinned at me and began to bark challengingly. Walking to the stand, I picked up a heavy wooden shield and prayed that I would survive my foolish plan. I tried to calm the beating of my heart and concentrate on reaching for power as I stepped into the ring. The Dømari, or game master, started the games and kept score. When he yelled out the begin command, my opponent rushed me, swinging his heavy axe.

Jumping to the side, I rolled to my knees and brought up my wooden shield just in time to block the downward blow at my head. I grunted in pain as the weight of the blow reverberated through my arm, and I could hear the first crack of my wooden shield. I almost dropped my sword to use two hands on my shield. Stupid, stupid, stupid, I chanted to myself.

Pushing up with both hands against the shield, I tried to push my opponent back a foot or so. I barely won that ground when he came at me again. This time I used the shield to deflect the axe blow to the side of me and I swiped my sword downward, intent on trying to break the handle of the axe. The sound of wood being hit was the only succession I got, as the handle was far thicker than I had anticipated and I didn’t have enough strength to break through it. I pulled back on the sword to feel it stick in the long handle of the axe. I heard a bark of laughter, and I looked up to see him land a kick on my stomach and I flew, releasing the handle of my sword as it stuck fast into the wooden axe handle.

Prev Next
Romance | Vampires | Fantasy | Billionaire | Werewolves | Zombies