Becca Fox - Asta and the Barbarians

Viggo picked at invisible lint on his shirt. “When I said he was worrying too much, he jokingly stated that he wouldn’t always be around to patch me up. But he wasn’t joking. He knew. Even then, he knew.”

“He thought you would try to stop him.”

Viggo’s head snapped up.

I shrugged. “When I confronted him about the letter, he said he thought you would try to stop him if he attempted to say goodbye in person.”

Hurt coursed through those copper eyes for a moment before he bowed his head. He forced a snort. “Yes, perhaps I would’ve tried. But in the end he would’ve still left, the determined bastard. I’ll wring his neck when we see him again but, for now, I hope he’s happy.” He shuffled his feet for a moment before scowling at me. “You can’t hide in this room and sulk forever. Bryn wouldn’t approve.” Then he marched down the hall.

I ran to the door and leaned out to call after him. “Thank you for dinner!”

He vanished around the corner.

I woke in time to avoid being punched in the face. One moment I was asleep, and the next my eyes were open and I was throwing myself out of bed. The fist sank into the pillow and hit the headboard with a muffled thunk . I scrambled to my feet and backed into the corner of my room. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. He was burly and tall, my attacker. I caught the sounds of a scuffle right outside my door.

“This is your brilliant plan?” I asked with an uneasy chuckle. “Your friends distract the guards so that anyone who wakes up will be too preoccupied with them to wonder about me? You’re a fool.”

“A fool who’s about to bring Dotharr’s Miracle into submission,” the brute said with a savage smile. “In more ways than one.”

My innards seized up in a kind of terror I could only associate with The Great Disaster . It made me furious. Heat spread down the length of my body. “You don’t even know me. I have done nothing to deserve your hate, you slow, disgusting, waste of space.” I kicked off the wall and swung a fist across his jaw.

He stumbled back in surprise and shook his head hard.

“Get out of my room!” I screamed as I pelted him with punches.

He recovered quickly and lifted his fists to protect himself. I aimed a kick to his torso and then lunged to my bed for the dagger stored under the mattress. He grabbed the back of my nightshirt and threw me into the opposite wall. The world became white for a moment as pain blossomed around my head. I didn’t have time to collapse, much less scream. He pressed his body against mine, pinned my wrists to the wall, and kissed me.

I bit his lip and he reared back with a shout. He released one of my wrists to slap me, and I used the opportunity to gouge his eye. I forced him back and away from me by pushing my finger deeper into his socket. His screams made my head pound but I didn’t relent. I shoved a finger into his other eye and pressed down, forcing him to his knees.

The door burst open beside me and I was tackled into my writing desk by one of my attacker’s friends. I rolled onto the floor. Three more entered my already-crowded room and joined the first in kicking me before I could get up. I covered my head a moment too late. A foot connected with my nose and blood filled my mouth.

Suddenly, it all stopped. I dared to peek from the shelter of my arms to see Viggo throwing one of the young men out into the hallway. He kicked a second man in the chest and sent him into the wall, then spun to face the third one, threw two jabs at the man’s face, and put a knee in his groin. The fourth was boxed in the ears and had his legs kicked out from underneath him. Viggo spotted me on the floor and froze. His nostrils flared. He turned very slowly and proceeded to kick the man whom I’d made blind.

He was still kicking him when my guards stormed into the room. Viggo stopped and threw his hands in the air. “An amazing job protecting Dotharr’s Miracle, gentlemen. You make our Heavenly Master proud!”

“We were ambushed,” my guard sputtered in fear or anger, I couldn’t tell which.

“Yes, by trainees !” Viggo shouted. “You’re supposed to have graduated from this academy. You’re supposed to have seen battle across the sea. You were chosen for this assignment for a reason, weren’t you? You’re a disgrace! Get out of here—you’re fired.”

The second guard loomed over Viggo. “Only General Halvar and the director have the power to dismiss us.”

“Get out,” Viggo said softly, “or I’ll make you.”

I struggled to stand, sure Viggo was about to be pummeled.

Instead, the second guard turned to his peer. “You heard the princeling. We’re no longer needed here. Let’s go home.” He spat in Viggo’s face. Then he and his partner lumbered away.

Viggo twisted around to glare at me. “Stop cowering and help me dispose of these mongrels.”

“How?” I asked.

Viggo nodded at the window. “How else?”

I blanched. “We’re on the third story.”

Viggo frowned at me. “It’s either this, or I’m removing some of their fingers. Which will it be?”

Viggo sat at my table during breakfast. So did Rainer, Frode, Brandt, Asger, and the other two whose names I still didn’t know.

Rainer jumped from his seat and apologized as soon as he caught sight of me. “We didn’t mean yesterday’s lunch to become an interrogation. If you don’t want to talk about Bryn, you don’t have to,” he said in a rush.

I addressed my tray of food. “Thanks.” I was going to sit across from Viggo, but he snagged my sleeve and yanked me down to the spot next to him before I could. I winced when my bottom hit the seat and the impact jolted pain across my body. He immediately released me with a murmured apology.

No one spoke for a long time. The men around me avoided my eyes and strived to put as much food in their mouths as they could. I didn’t know whether I should feel gratitude or shame.

Frode cleared his throat. “Where are your guards this morning, Asta?”

“You all heard what happened last night,” Viggo said. “Don’t feign ignorance.”

The silence returned.

“They say Pekka’s been sent home,” Asger said gruffly. “Asta did serious damage to his eyes. His vision might never be the same again.”

“Serves him right,” Rainer said. “I don’t know what he was thinking.”

“Are you going to be all right, Asta?” Brandt asked. “Did they hurt you very badly?”

I blinked away tears. “Yes. I mean, no. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Brandt walked with me to our first class after breakfast. He was careful with me during our grappling session for which I was grateful. We talked mostly. He told me that Dotharr had changed the color of his eyes after a psychotic bully from his former school had tortured him with pieces of glass. I empathized, but didn’t say why. He shrugged away my sympathy and simply said he had gotten his revenge once his senses had been heightened by the Heavenly Master of Warriors. He didn’t regret what had happened to him. He thought it had been necessary in order to prove his worth to Dotharr. I would have protested if I weren’t so impressed with his maturity.

We had a quiz in Religious Studies, which I failed. All the names of the Heavenly Masters blurred together in my mind, even with the distinguishing feature I had written beside their names in my notes. Despite my hatred of the subject, I knew I had to do better. My victories in my other classes didn’t mean I could afford to fail in this course.

My Weaponry instructor let me spar with every kind of ax, mace, and maul he had before declaring I was ready to advance. My frustrated and defeated opponents nursed their bruises while my instructor gave me a new building and classroom number. I walked into the intermediate Weaponry class to see Viggo in the middle of a fight. He had a shield strapped onto his arm and wielded a polearm—a brother of the spear with a longer, jagged blade at the end. He dominated his opponent. When he saw me watching, he did a double take and received a shield to the face. He roared and attacked more viciously.