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“Of course I know how to use them!” I growled. “Had those stupid guards not taken me by surprise, I wouldn’t be here right now. They’d be dead, and Tomas would be torn to pieces.”

His frown said he wanted to ask more questions about that, but he must have decided it was for the best not to push because he straightened and took my hand instead.

“Come with me.”

Like I had any other choice. I grumbled as I followed him back out of the tent and past the fire Maman had taken me to that morning. We weaved through the tents for a while before stopping in front of one set off a little from the rest with a big fire in front of it. Feigrind cleared his throat, calling out to whoever was inside.

“Brother? A moment of your time?”

He was being surprisingly formal, and I frowned up at him in question, but he didn’t need to explain once the man in the tent came out to join us. I took a step back automatically, trying to put as much distance as I could between myself and the terrifying, scarred barbarian who’d rescued me. I swung to face Feigrind, incredulous.

“What? You’re punishing me because I asked for a weapon? You’re such an asshole!”

Feigrind tightened his grip when I tried to pull away, refusing to let me leave. He didn’t acknowledge my outburst, instead speaking to the dangerous barbarian who watched us both with narrowed eyes.

“Simon says he’s proficient with blades. I need to go on a journey with Uttin. We would both feel safer if he was armed while I’m away.”

Stunned, I froze. I’d thrown out the dagger thing because I didn’t have any other ideas on what to demand. He wouldn’ttake me with him, so nothing else was good enough. But I wasn’t lying when I said the daggers would make me feel better. I’d already been attacked once while here. I didn't want to be defenseless again without him there to protect me.

The dangerous barbarian turned his focus to me, and I felt my spine stiffen. I really didn’t like having his attention. He was creepy, and whenever he looked at me, it felt like he was a predator and I was prey.

“Prove it,” he said.

My brows snapped together. “What?”

“I will not give you anything without proof that you know how to use it. You already cause trouble here often. You want weapons, prove you are capable of handling them safely.”

Oh, this asshole. I glared back at him. “Fine.” I looked back at Feigrind, who looked concerned, but still curious. I really loved his curiosity. It had gotten him into bed with me.

“Care to spar?” I asked innocently. I wouldn’t hurt him, but I did hope to tease him a little. If he was going to be gone for who knew how long, I wanted more sex before he left to tide me over.

“No,” the other barbarian interrupted before Feigrind could answer. “You will go against me.”

FEIGRIND

My stomach dropped when Einar said that Simon must go up against him. He probably assumed I’d go easy on him, and he was unwilling to compromise on the matter. He wasn’t wrong; I had no interest in hurting Simon, but I didn’t like the idea of the smaller man going up against Einar. He was dangerous. Simon didn’t know what he was getting himself into.

“Brother—”

“You’re that desperate to get your ass kicked by someone smaller than you, then be my guest. But I get to choose the weapon. Show me what you have,” Simon demanded.

Damn it. I should have spoken to Einar privately first. Simon’s mouth was going to get him into trouble.

Einar didn’t take the bait of Simon’s snark, instead tipping his head toward his tent and leading the way inside. If Simon had a talent with daggers, I would obtain some for him as a gift, but Einar was the only one I knew who had an abundance of weapons and wouldn’t miss one for the short time I was gone. His tent was filled with them, and he always had at least half a dozen on his person. Simon eyed the weapons with interest, picking up a few and testing their weight before putting them back down.

Given his temperament, I expected him to take something large, given the option. I would have steered him away from that if I could. Not that I thought Simon would listen. I’d need to be clever to make him choose something else without him realizing I was steering him in another direction. But I needn’t have worried. When he finally chose, he settled on a pair of daggers no bigger than the size of my palm. He tested the weight, spinning them in his hand with the ease of practice, before giving a decisive nod.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

Unease tightened my gut as I followed them both out of Einar’s tent to an open area nearby used for sparring. There were a few of my brothers there who looked up curiously when Simon stalked past, but none who might be willing to step in and argue with Einar’s decision. He didn’t care that Simon was a tribute. He only cared that Simon knew his weapon well before giving him something to protect himself. Perhaps I should have given up my dagger instead. I would probably not need it.

“No bloodshed,” Einar said, drawing my focus back to the pair now facing each other. When I saw the blade Einar intended to use, I protested immediately.

“You’ll hurt him!” I snarled.

Einar gave me a blank look. “If he wishes to protect himself, it will be against someone who will carry something similar. It would be better for him to surrender if he can’t handle facing off against a bigger blade.”

Simon scoffed, giving Einar a dirty look. “Over my dead body would I ever surrender to anyone. Feigrind, stop butting in. I don’t need you to protect me.”