Authors: Ric Bern
“Well,” Javad replied, his voice shaking as the tension mounted, “p-perhaps she is legally your property now, since you caught her trespassing on your land? I could see why you would see it that way, good fellow. I will buy her from you. Five gold coins, good man, an excellent price for an excellent man!”
“She is not for sale,” he said firmly and circled around to where the saddle from Papios’s destrier rested by the fire pit.
Javad looked again between the arena champion and the barbarian and could feel an altercation coming. He urged his mule backward and continued to talk nervously. “Oh, that saddle looks familiar, as does the horse tied in yon field. Oh, I say, they belonged to Papaios,” he blurted out without thinking. “Have you seen my bodyguard? How I have missed him this past day and night.”
“I killed him, stole his mount, and claimed the woman he hunted,” Ulf shouted as he brandished the tulwar he retrieved from the saddle. “And if you want her you’ll have to defeat me.”
With that Braxus snarled and unfurled the wicked whip at his side. He kicked his mare into a charge and bellowed a war cry. Ulf stood firm on the balls of his feet like a coiled spring, ready to bound in any direction. The horseman flung the length of the lash high in the air and snapped it forward, wrapping the leather around Ulf’s sword arm and yanking him from his feet. The barbarian was dragged for a few yards, but he never lost his grip on his weapon.
After he had been dragged through the stream he found his feet again and tugged back hard on the bullwhip, dislodging the rider from his saddle. Braxus made a desperate grab for his horse’s mane but missed and tumbled to the ground. His horse reared at the sudden displacement of weight, and when it came down, it landed squarely on Braxus’s sternum. The crack of his ribs was audible across the clearing.
Asmin watched with a mix of horror and triumph as the barbarian strode up to the dazed arena champion as he lay in the tall grass. Braxus struggled to his hands and knees, rasping for air. She stifled a gasp as Ulf hacked off his head seemingly without compunction. He then tied the charioteer’s head to the mare’s saddle by his curly hair.
A sheet of bright crimson bathed the pale horse’s side where blood fell from the severed neck. The barbarian took what valuables the charioteer had brought on the ride, including his heavy silver necklace, and heaved the corpse into a deep pool, where it would be carried far downstream. With the mare’s lead in his hand, Ulf approached Javad, who stared at him with horror.
“Let all in the city see that the claim to Asmin is satisfied by right of combat,” Ulf said with the authority of the victor. “Tell them it was Ulf who did his killing. Never return here.”
Javad nodded nervously and blotted at the beads of sweat on his wrinkled forehead. “Yes, of course I will. I…” He did not finish his thought, but grasped the lead of the gore-smeared horse and took his leave of the barbarian’s warren.
Asmin ran from her hiding place and into her lover’s embrace. They kissed, and for a moment there was no more fear in her life. Drawing his tongue into her lips, her hands roamed his back, and she knew she need never feel terror by night again. She stepped back and looked over his wounds. The whip had left a nasty, coiled welt, and he was scraped up badly from the drag. She would tend to those in a moment.
“Ulf,” she breathed lustily, looking up into his gaze, “if a woman was to be owned by a man, she’d be a fool to be owned by any other than you.”
Biography
I am a lover of Ancient and Dark Age history. I am also an avid reader of erotic fiction. In this, my first published work, I have worked hard with my editor, Jackie Moore, to marry the two together. I work as an office administrator in my everyday life. I also write an ice hockey column for an upstart sports website. In my free time I enjoy hiking and nature photography. I especially enjoy photo-cataloging the butterflies and dragonflies that are native to the county where I live. Landscape painting with acrylics is enjoyable, yet I must admit I haven’t done so in some time. I have a cat named Stinky that is my best buddy. I got him at the SPCA a few years ago, and we are inseparable. Conan the Barbarian is my favorite literary figure. I hope to continue writing in this genre, because I feel Vikings are in my future!