The fire burned deep into the night, and their supply of firewood was nearly exhausted.
Alfred added the last few dry branches, and the flames licked at them, crackled twice, then slowly began to die down.
Adrian sat with his back against the tree trunk, his arming sword resting beside his leg.
Alfred had taken the first watch.
The valley was silent.
The stream flowed through the cracks between the rocks, its faint murmur blending with the soft crackle of the dying fire.
Then came the sound of boots stepping across pebbles upstream.
There was more than one person.
Adrian heard it, and so did Alfred.
The branch in the young man’s hand froze in midair as he tilted his head and peered into the darkness.
Three figures emerged from the night.
The man in front was tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a dark fur coat with a short axe hanging at his waist.
Two others followed behind him; one carried a long-handled axe, while the shorter of the two held a one-handed axe and had a round shield strapped to his back.
The three men walked slowly downstream along the water, speaking among themselves and occasionally breaking into low laughter.
Vikings.
Three of them.
Alfred turned to look at Adrian.
The firelight reflected across his face, and although his eyes were wide, he had already dropped the branch and wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword.
Adrian drew his blade and held it low beside his leg.
His gaze swept over the terrain—the ridge, the stream, the pebble-covered bank, and the thicker woods farther downstream.
There was no time to make a plan.
The three men were already close.
The Viking in front had noticed the faint glow of the embers.
He raised his head and looked toward the tree, the dark-red light illuminating his rough features.
His beard had been braided into several thin plaits, and an old scar ran diagonally across his forehead from his hairline to his brow.
He tilted his head toward his two companions.
The three continued advancing toward the fire, their hands already moving toward the axe handles at their waists.
Adrian stepped out from the shadow of the tree.
There was no longer any room to retreat.
Before they could draw any closer, he surged forward to meet them.
His arming sword flashed out from the edge of the firelight, low and fast, aimed directly at the scarred Viking’s axe-wielding wrist.
The man reacted quickly and drew his short axe in time to block.
The sword struck the wooden handle with a dull thud.
The scarred Viking tried to force the blade aside with brute strength, but Adrian did not resist.
Instead, he lowered his wrist and allowed the sword’s edge to slide along the axe handle, forcing the Viking to retreat half a step to keep his fingers from being cut off.
That small retreat created an opening near the fire.
Alfred rushed out from the other side of the willow tree, his sword sweeping low toward the scarred man’s calf.
The Viking twisted aside, and the tip of the blade merely grazed his boot.
The man carrying the long-handled axe stepped forward and brought his weapon down in a wide arc.
Alfred rolled aside just in time.
The axe struck the ground where he had been standing, shattering the pebbles and sending fragments of stone flying.
One of the shards sliced open his cheek.
He scrambled to his feet, tightened his grip on his sword, and charged forward again, forcing the long-axe warrior into combat.
That left Adrian facing the scarred Viking and the man with the one-handed axe.
The two closed in from opposite sides.
The scarred man attacked from the front, bringing his short axe down in a heavy blow.
Adrian sidestepped and slashed diagonally, forcing him to draw in his elbow and protect his ribs.
At the same moment, the second Viking struck from the opposite side.
Adrian did not retreat.
He stepped forward half a pace, parried the axe with his sword, and drove his shoulder into the man’s chest.
The Viking stumbled.
Adrian immediately kicked the side of his knee, forcing him down into a half-kneeling position.
However, the scarred warrior had already lunged back into the fight, his short axe sweeping toward Adrian’s neck and shoulder.
Adrian was forced to pull his sword back and block.
The axe slammed against the blade, scattering sparks, and the impact sent a numbing shock through his hand.
In terms of raw strength, he was clearly at a disadvantage.
Even so, the two Vikings were unable to overwhelm him.
Adrian retreated along the stream, keeping the fire and the tree trunk to one side so they could not surround him.
Whenever the scarred man tried to close the distance, Adrian stabbed toward his wrist, throat, or knee, forcing him to retreat.
When the other Viking attempted to circle around him, Adrian stepped into the water and used the slippery pebbles to gain another half-step of space.
The scarred Viking finally lost patience and swung his axe horizontally.
Adrian ducked, and the blade hacked through a branch beside his ear.
He thrust backward with his sword, the tip scraping across the man’s leather armor and tearing open a long gash.
The second Viking swung upward from below.
The axe blade struck the chain mail beneath Adrian’s ribs, bursting several iron rings and sending a dull pain through his side.
Adrian grunted, pressed the axe downward with his sword, and slammed the pommel into the Viking’s face.
Blood immediately poured from the man’s nose, and he staggered back two steps.
A strained cry came from Alfred’s direction.
He was still fighting the Viking with the long-handled axe.
His sword was shorter than his opponent’s weapon, so he could only evade the sweeping blows and stab whenever an opening appeared.
Alfred managed to pierce the man’s forearm, but the Viking merely grunted, shifted his grip, and swung the axe down again.
Forced backward into the stream, Alfred stepped onto a loose pebble and slipped.
He fell to one knee in the water.
Adrian saw him.
The two Vikings in front of him continued pressing forward.
The scarred man brought his axe down once more.
Adrian gripped his sword with both hands, angled the blade, and redirected the blow to the side.
The Viking with the one-handed axe tried to take advantage of the opening, but Adrian suddenly lunged forward and thrust his sword directly toward the man’s eyes.
The Viking instinctively leaned back.
Adrian did not pursue him.
Instead, he used that brief moment to turn and sprint toward the stream.
The long-axe warrior had raised his weapon over Alfred, who was still kneeling in the water.
Adrian struck him from the side.
He threw his full weight into the collision, driving his shoulder into the Viking’s ribs and sending both of them tumbling into the stream.
Water exploded around them, icy enough to numb the skin.
The long-handled axe slipped from the man’s grip and clattered across the pebbles.
The Viking tried to turn, but Adrian had already pinned him down.
He pressed one knee against the man’s arm and drove his arming sword through a gap in the leather armor.
The Viking’s body went rigid, then collapsed.
Adrian climbed out of the water, soaked from head to toe.
Water clung to his chain mail, making it feel as heavy as a layer of stone.
Alfred also rose from the stream, still gripping his sword.
In the darkness, it was impossible to tell whether the liquid on his face was water or blood.
The scarred Viking and the man with the one-handed axe had reached the edge of the stream.
The scarred man glanced at his dead companion, and the arrogance in his expression disappeared.
He said something to the other Viking, and the two separated, moving to the left and right to surround Adrian and Alfred in the water.
Adrian pulled Alfred one step behind him.
“Alfred.” The young man was breathing heavily, but he answered at once.
“My lord.” “Run south.” Alfred froze.
“My lord—” “Run.” The scarred Viking moved.
His short axe came down, and Adrian raised his sword to block.
The weapons collided with a burst of sparks, briefly illuminating both men’s faces.
This time, the Viking used all his strength.
The axe pressed Adrian’s sword downward while the stream flowed over the tops of his boots.
Adrian’s knees bent slightly, but he did not fall.
He suddenly twisted his wrist, allowed the axe blade to slide off the sword, and used the motion to slash toward the Viking’s forearm.
The scarred man pulled back quickly, but the blade still cut through his leather sleeve.
Meanwhile, the Viking with the one-handed axe moved around them from the side.
His target was Alfred.
Alfred did not run.
Instead, he rushed out from behind Adrian and met the Viking head-on.
Sword and axe collided with a sharp metallic crack.
Alfred could not match the man’s strength, but he was faster.
He avoided the second axe blow, stabbed from the side, and drove his sword into the Viking’s thigh.
The man grunted and swung his axe horizontally.
Alfred did not have enough time to pull his sword free, so he raised his left arm to block.
The axe handle slammed into his forearm with a dull thud.
He clenched his teeth and made no sound, but his left arm dropped limply to his side.
Even so, he kept his sword in his right hand and lunged forward again.