DeFrosted

Chapter 25

(Hans)

The door clicked open and just as abruptly as I had initiated, I pulled back. I braced my self for a slap but one did not come. Instead She stood there, dumbstruck with shock as the guards pinned my arms behind my back and half dragged me away. I take a final glance at her, knowing it will probably be my last.

Once we reached the deck my captors tossed me onto the hard wooden deck of the ship. I winced at the impact. They had purposely thrown me onto my injured arm.

It appears the entire crew had gathered to watch the match, crowding around and jeering down at me with whoops and cries filled with excitement and bloodlust.

"Have a nice life!" A ragged barbarian to my left calls. "Yeah, all 3 remaining minutes!" Another man continues.

I ignore the jeers, biting back the pain and pushing myself to my feet. I straighten out my cravat and jacket, preparing myself to fight like a true gentlemen warrior, unlike these disheveled and dirty mongrels.

I hear the sound of heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs from the crew quarters. The Vikings begin chanting.

"Valarry! Valarry! Valarry!" Over and over, growing louder and more rambunctious with each verse. The heavy wooden door swings open and I gulp at the sight of a monster of a man.

So this is "Big Valarry" He was 8 foot tall, if not taller. Though his horned helmet made him seem larger then life. Despite the biting cold, he wore no shirt. His massive figure was covered in old scars. His chest covered only by his long brown beard. His footfall was so heavy I swear the whole boat rocked with each step.

He snarls at me, baring a mouth full of unkept and rotting teeth. "Not so tough now huh, little man?" Groaa gloated from beside me.

Somebody pushed me towards the center, I stopped just an arms length away from the massive Viking. The captain stood between us. "Boy I am not unfair." He states sarcastically. "This is a fight to the death."

"We all know who will die!" A voice taunts from the back of the crowd. The men burst into laughter.

"True Hastak, very true..." Laughs the Captain. "This lanky fire head stands no chance."

"What are the combat rules of this match?" I ask, head held high. Refusing to let any dread show.

"Rules?" The captain chuckles. "Boy there are no rules!" He shakes his head. "You win, you live. Which we all know you wont. But if by some miracle that does happen, I might even be so generous as to put in a good word with the master, ask him not to execute you the second the marriage ceremony is over. A fine slave you would make."

He steps back and I take a deep breath, readying myself for battle. I try not to think of the negatives but I fail. I'm unarmed, injured and a quarter his size. Great, just great.

He swings at me and I duck out of the way without a inch to spare. He turns to face me, I punch him In the stomach as hard as I can with my good arm and he simply laughs. Grabbing my arm and twisting it behind my back with such force I was surprised the limb was still connected to my torso.

I use the stiff heel of my sturdy boots to kick him hard into the shin. Not the move of a honorable solider, but it did the trick. He released just enough for me to escape his grasp. I jumped back, trying to put enough distance between us. Apparently not enough as he swung his ginormous fist and hit me hard in the stomach, sending me hurtling to the ground and knocking the breath from me.

I recovered just in the nick of time as to roll out of the way of his massive boot which was coming down onto my head. The crowd moved closer and closer as the fight progressed. Enclosing us further and further.