The Scarred Viking's Bride (On Temp. Hold)

Twelve

The sickening crunch of clenched fists meeting flesh echoed loudly throughout the night as the Jarl and Balder's fight continued. I kept an eye open to watch the brute. Blows were traded equally; either to the face, side, or legs. I cringed in horror as I heard the sudden sound of breaking bones through my covered ears.

The crowd of people around the fighting duo shouted and cheered for their preferred individual. Their burning torches danced in the air as some individuals jumped up and down to see the fight better. The ground shook as they stomped their feet in excitement, adrenaline, and thrill of their Jarl fighting publicly making them go berserk. My nose scrunched as the smell of sweat, dirt, and blood laced through the cramped energized gathering. The noise was nearly deafening as the men carefully circled one another, the fire casting shadows upon their face, cautiously avoiding the edges of the fur boundaries.

What was wrong with these people? Why did they enjoy such animalistic activities?

I had to stop this. This was madness. Absolute madness.

I watched in alarm as Balder landed a right hook to the Jarl's jaw with a loud crack. The Jarl's head snapped to the side and people hollered as he began bleeding from his lip. The brute quickly licked away the blood, the crimson fluid staining his teeth as he smiled wickedly. My heart banged against my chest to see him be beaten like this.

"Stop it! Vær så snill, enough! Stop!" I pleaded, jumping up from my kneeling position. I attempted to run forward, hoping to break up the fight.

Strong arms wrapped around my waist just before I reached the edge of the wooden boards, pulling me backward into a muscular chest. I began kicking and thrusting my elbows back into the body that held me back. I tried desperately to aim the sharp point of my elbow in the soft flesh below the ribs. The arms only lifted me higher against the body attached.

"Put me down, now!" I shrieked, kicking my legs out in the air.

My scuffle with this unknown person was simply overlooked as the fight began nearing the end. The clan people became nearly crazed with their shouting and cheers. They knew the end was close. Both men were showing signs of fatigue and irritation.

"Calm down, Britta. 'Tis nearly over," A low voice rasped out by my ear.

With a quick turn of my head, I realized 'twas Ragnar that intercepted me from stopping the fight.

"Ragnar, vær så snill! Stop this! There must another way to solve such things!" I said passionately, trying to make him understand how wrong this was.

"There is no other way to fix these kinds of issues. This is about honor, revenge and eases our lust for bloodshed. We solve and forget problems this way, and this way alone." Ragnar said with a hard voice.

"This is also for you. To redeem your innocence, as well as Aderick's display of possession and honoring your image. He is fighting for you," Ragnar spoke low enough for my ears only.

I stopped struggling and watched as the final blows were traded. Balder threw out a leg to make the brute stumble, but the Jarl easily dodged the blow that would have sent him to his knees with a small step to the side. The Jarl then swung his meaty fist with a quickness and ferocity that made the crowd scream in elation. In what seemed like slow motion, I watched as his fist connected roughly with Balder's jaw, making the man stagger. Balder faltered and tripped over himself, in a daze from his kin's brutal hit. Balder smacked the ground hard, landing well over the perimeter of the fur, and the crowd nearly winced at the loud thud.

There was a brief pause of breath. Then celebrated chaos erupted. People began screaming as the Jarl was declared the winner, and they rushed past Ragnar and me to congratulate and sing praises. Ragnar kept his arms locked around me until the brute connected his gaze to mine over the roar of the crowd.