Aeleva; The Viking Saxon

Chapter 5

"Let me test your new pet," she said as she reached for Hagen's stick. Hagen muttered something in Danish but allowed this woman to fight me. The challenge did not fill me with confidence.

She walked in a circle around me, swinging the stick as she walked. I heard her walk behind me and I stood still focusing on her footsteps on the grass, and my eyes rested on the view of the town. She swooped the wood around with ease, thinking nothing of the weight. She then came to face me. Her face grew a cold grin but there was a tease in her eye. I held the stance that Hagen had just told me.

She swung at me, I blocked once. She swung again, and I only heard the wood rush through the air. With a swift stab, to my already tender stomach, she knocked me to the floor.

"Not bad."

"You didn't need to knock her down Hilda," Hagen said. He was standing a few yards away and had his arms crossed, smirk on his face, as he watched us.

"You didn't need to bring her here." Hilda offered me a hand to help me up. "You are surprising. You can fight well. You understand it." Hilda said to me. "Have you ever fought before?"

"No." I replied. It was the truth.

"She killed Oven," Hagen said. Hilda seemed surprised by that for a second.

"Anyone could have killed Oven. Couldn't tell his head from his arse." Hagen laughed and shook his head, making his long braid sway around his back.

"Do you feel guilty?" Hilda's comment caught me by surprise and by the looks of it, Hagen too. I stared at her but she wanted me to answer.

"Yes." I said, and kept her gaze.

"Hmm." She replied. Still staring at me. Hilda was testing me. In all honesty I was surprised she asked that question. I did not think Danes thought that way.

"The village questions why you are teaching our ways to a Saxon. They think you are forgetting the true Gods. That you sympathise with their God. They think you are soft. " Hilda turned to glare at Hagen, with one eyebrow raised.

Hagen stood and crossed his arms, not bothered at what Hilda was saying. Even though I definitely was. It would not go down well for me if a whole village was against me.

The idea of the town coming in the night with torches and pitchforks was terrifying. I looked at Hagen and wondered if he would defend me against his people. Apart from putting me in front of Solvi he had not harmed me. He claimed to have not killed my family which I didn't know what to think of. He was strong, that was obvious. Not an inch of fat on his body, every muscle practised. He would easily over power me. I heard his long braid meant that he was undefeated. Yet, somehow, he scared me less and less each day.

We stayed on that hill to practise. Hagen had taught me the importance of following where the blade leads. Hilda would jab at my weak spots when I was sloppy. It was hot on the hill and I had never worked my body that way so I became coated in sweat. Hilda had enough of my stink and told me to wash in the river behind the town. I chose a spot covered by the reeds so Hagen couldn't see me. I let the water wash the dirt and sweat off my body. Hilda lent me her old clothes. They were itchy but clean, so I was grateful.

Hilda took me to the hall. It was the largest of the huts, the thatched roof must have taken weeks to complete. The flooring alone destroyed a small forest of spruce. Hagen's raven was hammered into the door frame and carvings of pairs of one-eyed ravens, flying above horses with eight legs. Inside the room was smoky and stank of stale ale. The walls were decorated with shields, most purple with black ravens on them but other animals like bears made an appearance. The back of the hall held a stage, with a throne. Its back carved so it appeared as the wood twisted into itself.