These men, the villagers he’d grown up with, were cruel to anyone who crossed them and wasn’t a part of their village. They would consider Agata an outsider. It didn’t matter that Stian claimed her as his wife, because he’d been banished and was therefore an outsider too.
But he’d known since the moment they told him to leave that they’d come for him. It was just a matter of when.
He swung his sword with a mighty roar and sliced the man who came forward right through the middle of the belly. His enemy fell to his knees, looked right at Stian, and started gurgling blood as he cursed him before he took his last breath.
The redness spewed from his mouth, covered his chin and chest, but Stian couldn’t take pleasure in watching him die. The man fell to the ground face-first, and Stian started cutting down the attackers.
Left, right, decapitated, a gaping wound through the arm. He attacked with fervor, didn’t stop until blood coated the air in a thick, tangy, and metallic scent and flavor.
The liquid covered Stian’s chest and face, and as he turned to take out one of the men coming forward, the tip of his assailant’s knife sliced through Stian’s cheek.
Stian wiped the blood from his face and moved to take out the second man. Stian stared at the body before him and felt no remorse over taking yet another life. He slowly lifted his gaze away from the corpse and slid it up his bloodstained legs covered in leather, over his chest, and snarled at the fact that he had his enemies’ blood on him.
He curled his hand that didn’t hold his sword into a fist and clenched his jaw. He had only been with his woman for such a short time, but these bastards thought to take her from him.
Even faced with this impending battle, all he could think about was Agata, praying to the gods that she’d been smart enough to leave, to listen to him.
“Fuck,” he gritted out. He straightened and ran a hand over his face, feeling the mixture of sweat and blood covering his palm.
An arrow came flying through the air, and he lifted his sword and blocked it. He swung his sword with a mighty roar, and sliced it clean through the man who came charging forward. Stian did this over and over again, taking men down who came to strike at him, feeling rage and power move through him. Another body fell to the ground, and another, and another.
Stian loved a good fight, loved the feeling of defending himself and now the woman he cared for. But Stian should have been prepared, because he’d known they wouldn’t stop if the elder died. He was foolish, and this was his fault, his doing.
A man gave a mighty yell swung out his ax, intending to take Stian’s head clean off, but Stian was ready. He blocked the ax with his sword, and right when he would have stumbled back from the force, the man’s head fell to the ground.
Stian stared at the headless body in confusion and lifted his gaze to see Agata standing there, an ax in her hand and blood sprayed along her body.
He pulled her behind him and cut down another man coming after him with one colossal swing of his sword. The men around him saw how many he’d taken down, and he would give them more pain, take more of their lives. A few in the distance stopped, looking unsure as they stared at their fallen comrades-in-arms.
“Come on. Come after me. Try to take what’s mine!” Stian shouted and slammed his fist on his chest. Rage, adrenaline, and excitement coursed through him. A gust of wind picked up and moved Stian’s hair. He felt Agata breathing hard behind him, and he felt pride his woman had taken out a threat, but was pissed she hadn’t listened.
With the violence surrounding them, Stian focused on the man who was closest to him, the one who seemed like he had big balls and wanted to be the one to end this. He would soon taste the tip of his sword. He moved forward at the same time Stian lifted his weapon and grinned.
“Stian,” Agata said in an urgent voice. He pushed her back a few feet, and the two men charged toward each other, their swords raised and their voices ringing out loud and clear. Their weapons clashed together in a ring of metal against metal.
“You actually thought to come here, take my woman, and destroy me?” Stian prompted in a fierce voice. The other man moved back a step. Stian swung out again, but the man was strong, determined. Stian grunted and growled out, wanting this man to lie lifeless beneath his feet like the other men who thought they could take from him again.