A Dance With Death- The Shield Maiden

Chapter Five Freya 875AD

I don't know why it had bothered me so much, that I had upset the strange man, Eadwold. Or why I had apologized to him. I had never apologized to anyone before, not even mine own family.

I don't know what possessed me, but over the coming days, I found myself returning to the spot I had met him and actually looking for him.

It may be a sad thing to admit, even to myself, but I enjoyed my short time with him. I never realized before, how I had spent my whole life on the defensive.

I have always had to fight so hard for any kind of acceptance and to prove my self worthy. But never how much of a tole in took.

Yet that short conversation, made me realize how tired I was of it. Always having to sleep with one eye open and a weapon in hand. I sighed heavily, as I sat under a huge tree at the side of that very road.

The sound of a cart had me sitting up straight. Excitement and anticipation coursing through me. But no, I sagged back against the tree, as a feeble old man rushed his haggard old nag past me. Fear evident on his face, as caught sight of me. I paid him no mind and continued stewing in my own thoughts.

The sun was low in the sky, when I heard a hoof beats in the distance, it sounded like multiple horses coming in my direction at a good speed. Leaping to my feet, I had my axe unsheathed and ready, in one swift movement.

They came upon me fast and circled the tree, unsheathed swords in hand. One of the men, in much finer armour than the others, shouted something at me, but I could not understand his language.

He motioned for me to drop my axe, I smirked as I tightened my grip. They honestly thought I would surrender? stand quiet why the cut me down. Did they never learn? I was a northern warrior, a shield maiden and they expected me to stand idle, why they killed me. I laughed out loud at the absurdity.

One man fell from his horse, dead before he hit the ground. With a flick of the wrist, my knife had flown and pierced his flesh, I had learned quickly the weak points of the Saxons armour. I had thrown two more knives before the remaining men even knew what had happened.

Another man fell, choking on his own blood, the other knife missed its mark and bounced of his armour. I rolled and came up swinging my axe, sparks flew as axe met sword. The force of the blow sent a vibration of pain up my arm. I gripped my axe with both hands and blocked the next flurry of blows.

I twisted and turned, as I blocked blow after blow. The soldiers horses snorted and pawed at the ground as they where pulled and pushed towards me.

I used the low tree branches to keep the soldiers at bay. atop their horses they could not force the horses too close.

I felt myself tiring quickly, fighting three on one was taking every ounce of energy I could muster. Sweat running down my face and stinging my eyes, as I blocked blow after blow.

I finally saw an opening, summoning everything I had left, I swung my axe at the man in the fancy armour. I felt my axe sink into flesh and the man grunted in pain. I pulled my axe free, with a shower of blood.

The man in fancy armour, clung to his side, blood pouring from under his hand, as he tried to stem the bleeding. He started to topple from his horse, the remaining soldiers stopped their attack and turned to try and help the wounded man.

I took the opportunity to strike the both, killing them instantly. I watched the wounded man fall. I grabbed his horses reins, before it could flee, it was a large grey, far superior to the other mounts.

I stroked the horses nose, trying to calm it, as I watched the man try and pull himself to his feet. He failed repeatedly and finally dragged himself over to the tree and propped himself against it.

He pulled of his helmet off, his face pale under his short cut beard, his dark hair looked to be curly, but it was stuck to his head with sweat. He met my eyes, as I continued to stroke his horse.

I studied his face, his clothes and armour. He had some drawing and marks etched to his chest plate. his clothes and boots were of a quality no low level soldier could afford. whoever this man was, he was of some standing.

I heard the braying of a donkey, my head whipped round at the sound. There he was the same man leading his donkey and cart along the road.

I saw him take in the scene before him, his eyes widened, as he dropped his donkeys reins and ran over towards me.

He fell to his knees at the side of the man and started pressing his hands down on the man's wound. He paid me no mind, as he muttered to the injured man.