Ragnar walked up to the braided blonde-haired Eric amid the jeers of the Viking camp. The man had an alcoholic red tinge to his nose with glazed over grey eyes. It could work to his advantage that his opponent was slightly drunk, but Ragnar knew this was not an opponent one could take lightly.
Eric held eye contact with Ragnar for a couple of seconds. Both men, coming to terms with their life potentially ending in the next 5 minutes, before shifting his gaze to shout at his men, "Make the square! Everyone back up and hurry. We only have a couple more minutes until their reinforcements arrive. I need runners to head to the front of the camp and bring a report on the enemy army!"
The men all started clamoring as they grunted and pushed each other out of the way to make enough space for a 10 foot by 10 foot square of death.
Amid the racket, a small red-haired boy shoved his way to the front of the crowd, slipping between the legs of the tall Vikings before making it to the opening of the square. Finan had managed to watch the brutality of the previous fights from a vantage point, and he knew this would be a good fight.
Eric Bloodsword was a renowned Viking in the Earl's crew on the right side of the square. They had fought together for over ten years, with 50 successful raids. Eric had eventually been given the name blood sword for his cruel nature, killing all but one of his brothers.
And on the other side, the number of men that had died to Ragnar's hands truly shocked the young boy. But still, he had seen his fair share of fighting and was used to blood and death by now, even if it looked more like an execution than a fight.
Ragnar approached Eric in the middle of the circle to discuss terms.
"I desire to leave this place unharmed if I win this match. It would be pointless for me to win and then get struck down by someone angry at the outcome."
Eric smirked, "That confident, are we? Alright, I will ensure the rest of these men stand down on my honor as Eric Bloodsword. But if I win, I desire Erika as my prize," he burst out laughing at the thought of Erika being his slave.
Ragnar clenched his jaw in anger to restrain himself, but Erika, on the other hand, was appalled at hearing the discussion. "No! I refuse such a trade. I don't wish to be bartered around like cattle. I am a woman of import, and I deserved to be treated as such."
Eric chuckled in reply, "You're currently a captive of war, my dear Erika. If I don't rescue you, who will? Do you think these oafs around you will be able to save you? He said as he raised his sword to the men around the square.
"No! They all desire you for themselves, as does Ragnar. Either way, this isn't a decision up to you to make. What is it, Ragnar? Fair terms?"
Ragnar nodded in reply, "I'll need some rope to tie this haughty woman up first." He said as he heaved Erika onto the floor.
The silver-haired woman landed on the floor with a thump as she cried out in pain.
Eric roared in laughter. "You heard the man! Get some rope for him to tie this bitch! And on my honor as Eric Bloodsword, I want him to be let go if he wins this deathmatch!"
Laughter rang out across the camp as a man brought over some rope.
With Erika tied, the two men faced off against each other once again in the square. Only this time, one of them would be leaving out of it alive.
Finan, who had pushed himself to the front, had somehow managed to get himself into officiating the match, as everyone else was more interested in watching this titanic battle.
Looking into the eyes of both the determined warriors, he waved his hands before shrieking its commencement.
Eric immediately took the offensive and slashed at the Norman warrior. Ragnar darted out of the way quicker than Eric had expected but recovered fast enough to block his counterattack.
Spark's flew in the air as metal struck metal, and the growing crowd jeered as one. The blow was fast and powerful, and Eric realized he needed to exert a little more effort to match his opponent.
Ragnar was impressed by Eric's skill with the sword. Truly a man worthy of the moniker 'Bloodsword' and, as such wondered what it would be like to battle with such a man by his side. Unfortunately, if neither of them were killed in this match today, then someone else would step in to finish him off.
Therefore, Ragnar fought on. Determined to end the life of Eric, the shorter man's strength though lacking, did make up for it in technique with the sword. It didn't help that this was one of the few times Ragnar had used an axe.
Ragnar used his years of tutelage under his father to adapt to the situation. And after about a dozen clashes with the blade, Ragnar feinted and unexpectedly swung the axe low.
Bloodsword was unable to dodge in time, and the axe head bit deeply into the warriors' hamstring. Ragnar followed up by bringing the axe up and around the man as his leg buckled, forcing the monstrous weapon down toward the warrior's head. With the severely injured leg, Bloodsword's balance was off, and he couldn't bring his sword up in time to block the strike.
Through sheer athletic ability, Eric somehow managed to twist his way out of the axe's path. But with tremendous strength, Ragnar adjusted the trajectory of the blow and lodged it into Bloodsword's shoulder, smashing through muscle and bone.
Under the excruciating pain, Eric went down to the ground howling, axe still lodged into his torso.
Ragnar smirked as he approached the man, still clinging onto life but fading quickly.
"Stick to your word now, brother. Tell your men to let me and my prize go."
With blood pouring out of Eric's mouth, he held Ragnar's gaze in defiance as he bellowed out with all his remaining strength. "Kill this bastard!"
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