Reckless Protector: Isaacson Trilogy Book Three

31

They watched Esmund walk away for a few more minutes before Ulric broke the silence and said, "Want to go the long way home through the orchard?"

Gunnar's lip curled in distaste, and Ulric knew it was because there was a good chance they'd end up stepping on rotten apples. But, like the good brother he was, he nodded his agreement and fell in step beside Ulric. They were halfway through the orchard when Gunnar scooped up a handful of snow and threw it, hitting Ulric in the jaw.

Ulric stopped in his tracks and flicked the snow from his face. Meeting his brother's gaze, they each gave a slight nod, and the war was on. Soon, they were in a heated snowball fight that quickly escalated into an all-out brawl.

They discarded snowballs in favor of fists, and when fists proved inadequate in delivering the upper hand, both Gunnar and Ulric improvised.

Branches unable to withstand the harsh winter and heavy snow lay at the bases of several trees, many of which were thick and crooked with age.

Hurling his full body weight against his brother, Ulric tackled Gunnar to the ground and collided with one of the many trees. He took advantage of Gunnar's momentary daze and, while cackling with glee, shoved snow down the front of his brother's ripped shirt.

Gunnar squealed and shouted, writhing in a failed attempt to dislodge his twin. Reaching blindly, he grabbed the first branch he came in contact with and swung in an upward arc, successfully knocking Ulric to the side.

Gaining his feet, Gunnar backed up and held the branch aloft in defense, warding off his twin. "Are you ready to give up yet?"

Ulric crouched low, arms outstretched, and advanced with a growl, "Never." He pretended to lunge, then stood to his full height. "You're not holding it right."

"What do you mean? I'm holding it the way Father holds his battle hammer."

"No, you're not," Ulric said with a haughty shake of his head. He approached his twin and ripped the branch out of his grasp. "You have to hold it like this, otherwise—"

Gunnar growled and tore the branch away. "Would you quit pretending you know everything about everything? Criminetly! I'll hold it the way I want."

Ulric stared, baffled. "What in blazes has gotten into you? I was showing you—"

"You're BOSSY!" Gunnar shouted, his face twisted in anger. "I've had enough of you telling me what to do and how to do it!"

"Neeners," Ulric said in a placating and, if he was honest, a somewhat condescending tone. "What's the point in sparring with each other if you don't do it correct—"

Gunnar slammed the branch into the left side of Ulric's face, not hard enough to split the skin, but it managed to bring his words of wisdom to an abrupt end.

Ulric teetered to his right a bit but somehow managed to hold his ground. In a daze, he rubbed the bruised side of his face.

Surprise flared to life within their gazes, neither one believing what had just happened. Gunnar must have realized he'd made a foolish mistake because panic flashed to life within his eyes, and he hurried and backed up, putting over fifteen feet between them and holding the branch up in defense.

Ulric stared at his twin as though seeing a stranger instead. The audacity Gunna had just shown was befuddling. Never in his life had either of his brothers treated him with such blatant insubordination as they had dared today.

He glanced at the branch in Gunnar's grasp and scowled. Lowering his head like a bull preparing to charge, he growled, "You're still holding it wrong."

His panic forgotten, Gunnar matched Ulric's stance and curled his lips in a snarl. "Come and teach me then...if you know so much."