Page 69 of Into the Isle

I could wield an axe and sword just fine. Korvan had taught me to use any weapon at my disposal, and know how to use it. Didn’t matter if I was using a dinner plate for a shield and a grass-cutting hoe for a sword. I needed to be prepared.

Out the corner of my eye, I watched Astrid choose her weapon. She first went for a wooden sword, but then saw me pick up the spear and moved toward one of her own.

Smart, making sure she has similar length to me.

Finally, she decided on an axe. The curved edge of the weapon was made of wood instead of iron. She slapped the haft against her palm, holding the weapon with her free hand at the base.

“I’m ready,” she told Axel.

The Hersir motioned us forward onto Tyr Meadow. The grass squelched underfoot, flattening. I never moved my eyes from Astrid’s wicked face.

“Judging by your focused expressions, I sense you two have some history,” Hersir Axel said.

“Recent history,” Astrid answered.

“Good. This is a fine time to get it out. I only have one rule.”

Astrid and I looked to the battlemaster.

“Don’t kill each other.”

With that, he stepped off the edge of the meadow.

I swallowed hard, finding a measure of calm in the storm that raged in my head. Enough of these assholes treating me like a peon for them to trample over. I earned my way here just like they did. It’s time I remind them of that.

A few students came to watch, including Astrid’s goons, and also Randi, Sven, Ulf, and Grim. Arne moved away from his conversation with Rolf to watch. Behind him, arms crossed, stood Magnus Feldraug—alone, staring with an unreadable expression on his face.

Jitters ran through me. I pushed them down as I’d been trained to do. “Turn those nerves into fruitful energy,” Korvan had always said.

“You should have never come here, bog-blood,” Astrid warned me. She stood ten paces back. “It was your first mistake.”

I scoffed, reveling in her disdain. “You should have never tried taking my seat, Astrid. It was your first mistake.”

She scowled. I returned it twofold.

“Begin,” Axel grunted.

Astrid charged at me before Axel’s word had even finished.

My eyes flashed wide as she bore down on me in a few quick steps, taking an offensive approach. She arced her axe high, diagonally across her body.

I noticed a few things right off the bat: Astrid wielded her axe short, gripping the haft up near the blade and in the middle. The backend handle hung down, and it could become an efficient weapon itself if I wasn’t careful. Her footwork was swift, short, choppy. Her charge was a straight line, opting for no subterfuge.

I swung my legs to the side in a large step to counter her smaller movements, just as her axe came down.

Her short pace allowed her to stop on a dime, pivoting to follow my body as I sidestepped.

The axe crunched over the middle of my spear as I raised it two-handed. The curved “blade” slid over the top, peeling woodchips before falling in front of me and hooking over the haft of my spear.

I knew what she was doing, so when she yanked back to try and disarm me with the curve of her axe, I lunged forward with her—

Only for Astrid to punch the blade out at the last second and smash the dull end into my chin.

My head snapped back, blinding white pain shooting behind my eyes. I staggered and she charged again, swinging her axe this time—trying to end it quickly.

I ducked, narrowly escaping a nasty hit across my shoulder. I bobbed left when she struck right in swift, short swings. She didn’t use her large axe as I’d expected her to, opting for precise attacks instead.

Skilled! My brain harried me. Different than Selby fighters. Better trained.

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