Page 38 of Rune

By the axe strapped to my back, that must have been obvious. “Yes, the entire clan learns to fight, even if they don’t all go on raids.”

He stood and drew the sword from his side. “Would you care to fight with me? It’s been years since I trained, so I should be easy to beat.”

I itched to train again after spending nearly every day of my childhood fighting, but I hesitated. “I’m not certain that’s the best idea.”

“A young goddess like you? You’ve nothing to worry about against an old man like me.” He spread his feet amidst the thick clouds on the ground—something I’d never get used to—and held his sword in front of his face.

“If you’d like.” I set down my wine, undid the buckle around the axe, and let the weight of it fall into my hands. It was heavier than I was used to, so I’d have to adjust for that, and I didn’t have my usual shield in hand.

Plus, I’d never fought against a god before. Even in old age—which Erik was not quite old enough to claim yet—he was sure to be much stronger than me. But there was no way I could refuse him. There was a gleam in Erik’s eye like this was the highlight of his year.

I couldn’t wait to tell Ve I was right to bring weapons. I liked hisfaðiralready.

“You sure you can handle this?” I asked, trying to appear as confident as I could.

He chuckled. “Show me your best, young goddess. I must warn you, I’ve been fighting for two hundred years.”

I had no time to absorb the oddity of that when he advanced.

He moved slow at first, testing out what I could handle. I held up the axe to defend against his first swing, then let the momentum carry it downward to strike. He backed up and let the blade pass before him harmlessly, but the delight in his eyes was so pure, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“No one trains with me anymore,” he said, striking again. “I’d forgotten how much I missed this.”

“I’m always happy to train,” I said between heavy breaths. I flipped the axe over so his next swing met the iron poll, then jabbed the knob against his chest. He staggered back with wide eyes. A poke like that wouldn’t be enough to even injure someone, but it was likely the only hit I’d be getting against him.

Now that I got a hit in, his fighting intensified. I widened my stance, absorbing the shock of each hit and only having time to readjustbefore he would strike again. After three strikes on the defensive, I finally hooked the axe around his sword and pulled it down, then jabbed his chest with the knob again, sending him back a pace.

He laughed. “Is that the only move you know?”

“I’m not used to such a heavy weapon,” I confessed through deep gulps of air. My breathing hadn’t tightened yet, but I knew it would soon.

Erik lowered the sword, wiping his brow. “If your current weapon is too much to bear, then don’t be afraid to fight with ulterior means.” At my creased brow, he raised a hand into a fist. “This. No one said you have to use the axe alone. Block an attack, then jab with your fist. It’ll be enough to stun your opponent so you can get an honest shot in.”

I had the dagger at my side, but I didn’t want to take things that far. I nodded, and lifted my axe. “Again?”

“Always.” He brought the first blow, striking down with no resistance until my knees almost buckled under the weight. This time, before I could recover, he flipped the sword into a backward grip and brought the blunt end along my side. I twisted so the blade slammed against my handle, but he’d been anticipating that and turned it upwards at the last moment, bringing it over the axe and the blunt end came back down against my shoulder with a crack.

I sank to a knee. Instinctively, I lifted the axe flat over my head to block another attack, and watched him raise the sword up.

Before he could get another blow in, I sprang to my feet, twisted the axe upward to hook onto the sword, and spun it down. With the point of his blade in the grass, I brought my knee up hard into his gut.

He winced, but I wasn’t done. The axe was way too heavy to wield as usual, so I let the weight of it drop the head into the dirt, then Igrabbed at both ends of the metal. Holding it by the head instead of the handle, I swung the pole of it around and knocked it into his side.

Had this been a real fight, I’d have swung it at the side of his head, but this was for fun, so I pulled the punch. Erik leaned over with a grunt, but he was smiling when he came back up. “Very good. The mortals have taught you well.”

“Thank you,” I said, though it was his advice that helped.

Erik’s chest audibly rattled with his deep breaths, and he kept the point of his sword down to suck in air. “Let’s rest,” he said. “I’m not used to this.”

“Of course.” I dropped the axe and offered my arm to lead him back to the bench. With a jolt of triumph, I realized this was the first time I’d fought someone and they were breathing harder by the end.

He is at least a few hundred years old, I reminded myself. Whatever that means to a god. But then again, he’s a god. I took it as a victory I was still standing.

Ve was probably looking for us by now, and I couldn’t wait to tell him how well it’d gone with hisfaðir. I wasn’t coerced into talking about any feelings I might have for his son or lying about what I wanted for our future, but instead I had forged the start of a relationship the only way I knew how: through sparring. In my experience, training together built trust much faster than conversation could.

Erik wasn’t as intimidating as he’d been earlier that night, when the firelight had accented the sharp cuts of his face and he’d looked at me like I was an incoming storm and he couldn’t figure out if I would bring helpful waters to his lands or destroy them. Now, he looked at me like a friend.

I had no idea what Ve was so afraid of.

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