(Kristof)
We ride hard all through the morning, neck and neck. I am surprised to see the white horse easily keeping up with Sven. His cloven hooves pounding hard onto the frozen ground beside the white steed called Thunder.
I see why The Prince calls him that now. Because when he runs, it does indeed sound like the powerful rumblings of what comes after a lighting strike.
"But you said the your captors claimed it would take 3 days to reach the island." I call out to the rider beside me.
"Yes, it will take those bumbling buffoons 3 days with that heavy ship they are sailing." He answers with a hint of his usual arrogance. "Unlike my people, they don't know how to build a vessel. It's bulky and very badly designed." His head shakes with disapproval. "Also, they don't know these waters like we do. Like all residents of my homeland. My men know these waters like the back of their hands."
He was right. The Southern isles were famous for their fast ships and steadfast sailors. With the whole nation surrounded by water, it is an art they have perfected.
"The Guardian will reach the viking hold out in a day. So help me it will!" Hans Vows
The sun reaches it's peak when the city finally comes into sight. The horses are weary of riding but the men are ready for battle.
My heart pounds in my chest. I'd never been in battle before. Before all this the idea of war disgusted me. I never understood how people could actually want to end the lives of others. It went against everything in my nature, everything my family taught me. I still didn't mknow If I could do it... To kill someone.... no matter how evil they might be. But right now I have no choice. Anna is depending on me. Arendale is depending on me...
"CHARGE!" Hans gives the battle cry and we take the vikings by suprise. Galloping into the city, at the sound of the battlecry, barbarians began pouring out of the buildings and into the streets.
With the queen captured most of the barbarians had returned back to there leader. Only 1 small ship in port. That ment we were facing around 100 men.
The battle errupted. Sounds of blades clashing pierced the cool air of the frozen city. I galloped Sven towards the oncoming horde. He was scared, I could could feel his massive heart pounding away beneath me. Swords, Spears and mallets seemed to lash out at us. I used the flat of my sword to knock down opponents as we ran. The screams of men echoed through the alleys.
I look to my left and Hans is no longer there. I see him behind me, down off his horse engaged in combat with a burly viking. His elegant sword clashing against the beasts crudely forged one. I look ahead guiding Sven and knocking down more assailants.
I glance back and see the prince pulling his sword out of the man. The giant Norse men crumpled and fell. I felt sick to my stomach at the sight of the bloodshed.
Red blood seemed even redder against the pure white of the snow covered capitol. I had never experienced anything like this before.
Out a nowhere a mallet swings at me, hitting me square in the chest. Sparks fly when it's spikes hit my armor. Knocking off Sven and straight onto the ground. I gasp when the air finally returns to my lungs. I see my assailant coming towards me to finish the job.
Adrenaline pumps as I jump to my feet and reach for my sword. It was awkward and light in my hands, but it was all I had. Gritting my teeth I block an oncoming swing.
"Get off of my country you pig!" I curse. He doesn't respond, just grunts. Swinging at me again. I duck, rolling out of the way. This sword is so awkward, it's throwing me off balance! I attack again. Swinging the blade. Years of ice picking has given my precise aim, but the warrior just blocks it everytime.
He whacks me into the snow with his bare arm. I land face first into the cold white powder. Sprawled out, sword dropped somewhere along the way.
"Ice boy get up!" Hans shouts wearily from across the battlefield. I hear the crunching sound of approaching footsteps in the snow, and that deep maniacal laughter of my soon to be executioner. I lift my head, shaking the snow from it when a glint catches my eye.
It's not my sword...no...
Laying there, partially covered in snow, was an ice pick.
"Kristof!" One of my men shouts in warning as the enemy starts to raise his mallet above my head. Without thinking I quickly roll, grab the tool of my trade and hurl it in the general direction of my rival.
I hear a sickening thud. It landed in his chest. He falls to his knees and crumpled into the snow, dead.
No air makes it to my lungs. I cannot believe what I had just done. I had killed someone. Body heavy I rise to my feet. All the other vikings drop to their knees in surrender.
Hans strides over. "Not bad for an Ice Boy." He compliments as he pulls the ax from the dead man's chest. "it seems this one was the commanding officer. " He explains, examining the Axe closely. "The rest have now surrendered. We can lock them up in the prison and leave freely now."
He wiped the blood off the weapon in the snow then tosses it to me. "Forget the sword. This is your weapon."
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-Authors Note-.
Hope you guys likes this. I'm really proud of how this chapter turned out. I can't wait to read what you guys have to say.
So, how's that fan art coming?
-Geekpower1