36 Rival Rolf

Harald sat atop a modified throne, made of bronze, plundered from the Earl's camp as he gorged on the meat before him.

Ragnar and Thorkell, meanwhile, had the assignment of looking at everyone in the building, scanning the crowd to see if anyone had nefarious intentions against the family.

Ragnar slowly looked through the eyes of each man he came across, looking to see if someone was signalling for the start of an attack.

Loud roars of laughter occasionally broke out, causing Ragnar to snap to attention, his concentration being stretched to a thin. Though it was mentally challenging work, constantly on guard, it was something he had gotten accustomed to, but the new maids didn't help one bit.

Harald had increased the number of maids in the manor to assist his larger family and entourage. As such, many came to the sides of Ragnar and Thorkell, a few with enticing figures that could sway any man.

"Lord Ragnar, would you like some drink?" Asked a curvy woman with a sweet oval face.

Ragnar grinned, his practiced charming smile shown to disarm people, in reply, "Yes, I'd love some wine if we have it, please."

"I'll get it at once, milord," the woman blushed furiously as she rushed over to the side and whispered to the other maids before they all ran off giggling.

Harald broke Ragnar's smug expression as he turned towards the young warrior in between bites, "See that man with the manic grin and shorn ear?"

Ragnar slowly scanned the crowd before resting his gaze on a stocky warrior who was manically cackling as he ripped apart meat and laughed with his companions. "Umu, I see him. What about the warrior?"

"I want you and Thorkell to apprehend that man. We've fought on the battlefield many times. He's a sellsword who works for the highest bidder. And it's usually against us Normans." Harald spat as he glared at the warrior.

Ragnar grunted at Thorkell, who nodded in affirmation as the two stood up to apprehend the warrior.

As Ragnar approached the stocky man, time slowed down; as the blood rushed to Ragnar's eyes and ears. With a trained eye, he watched the surroundings of the warrior, looking for weapons and allies. He noticed two knives and a short sword, increasing his vigilance as such weapons were perfect for indoor combat.

When the two of them got within 5 feet of the slightly buzzed warrior, the ear torn man's smile fell. Immediately, through insane core strength, he raised himself onto his hands, flipping around and landing on the desk, in a better position to deal with his assailants.

The flamboyant action was seized by Thorkell, as the elder brother took that moment of distraction to sock one of his accomplices in the jaw. At the same time, Ragnar dashed in arm's raised in grappling fashion, ready for hand to hand combat.

The stocky mercenary's eyes bulged when he saw the speed at which Ragnar reacted and tutted as he realized that there wouldn't be enough time to draw out his short sword.

As such, the warrior raised his hand's as well, preparing to fight Ragnar with his greater agility.

Ragnar closed the distance and grabbed at the Ear-torn warrior's lead arm. Gripping it tightly within his grasp as he pulled the man towards himself. The Ear-torn warrior went with the momentum rather than resist the insane strength and raised his fist to be sent straight into the jaw of Ragnar's.

Ragnar had no space left to dodge with the warrior flying at him, so he did the one thing he could, propelling his head forward using his massive neck muscles, bashing skulls with the warrior flying at him.

The Ear-torn mercenary, dazed beyond belief, only saw the massive back of the Norman spinning before an elbow came out of the corner of his vision and smashed into the side of his temple.

Ragnar watched as his spinning elbow cut deep into the skin, bloodying the side of his face and sending him crashing to the floor. What impressed him was the stocky mercenary's awareness and ability to still raise himself off the ground.

But it was too late, as Ragnar took the opportunity to take the fight to the floor, slamming his large frame on the stocky lad as he took full mount. He knew that he didn't have to worry about any attacks from behind in the back of his mind as he had full faith in his brother to defend both of them.

During the brief body slam, Ragnar realized that the warrior below him was gaining consciousness and jabbed two of his fingers into the eye of the warrior, receiving a scream in reply as he blinded the man.

Ragnar pushed the mercenary's arm flat against the floor using the opportunity presented before bringing his right arm over and under the man's shoulder. With both arms locked in place, Ragnar forced the man's arm to 90 degrees as he brought his left foot out for strength and heaved. Showing the medieval world, the first kimura submission as the warrior roared in pain, completely immobilized as his arm twisted behind his back.

"I yield! I yield, stop!" The Ear-torn mercenary shrieked in pain as he heard his shoulder nearly snap under the strength of Ragnar's.

The entire room roared in disbelief, a few murmurs breaking across the crowd, "He managed to subdue Rolf the Ripper in close combat?"

A couple of faces swivelled as they recognized the name, "That's Rolf the Ripper?"

Ragnar hoisted the dazed man to his feet as he shoved the warrior towards the throne, where his father sat with an expression of pride and joy over his son accomplishing such an enormous task.

Rolf, having just slowly broken out of his drunken stupor glared at the new Baron Harald, "What is the meaning of this? Is this how you treat your guest?!" as he clutched his swollen shoulder.

Harald slowly rose out of his seat as silence descended upon the room, the men waiting to see how their new Lord would react. The Baron's eyes bulged in rage as he walked around the feast table and approached Rolf. Ragnar had done the sensible thing and ensured that he disarmed the agile Viking before presenting him to his father.

As such, Harald came right up to his rival and faced him, "Scum such as you aren't welcome here. We've fought over 5 times across the field, and you've killed dozens of my men."

Harald equipped his silver gauntlet before savagely backhanding Rolf as he roared, "YET! You have the gal to come in here and profess yourself as my guest?"

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