Excerpt from Forced Blood The Norseman

Arnora Orssdottir had already proven her skill with an axe on this morning. To the center of the fighting she'd charged with the kings; and since, sent the spirits of two enemy warriors to Valhalla. Her woolen cap was gone now, but her long, dark hair remained neatly knotted behind her head. The blue full-length tunic she wore and the once spotless over garment, were splattered with blood; none of it was her own.
     She had been the good wife, now the widow of Frodi Sveinsson, a freeman, a warrior in service to Vigilant. Her husband had died, sword in hand, with his king. With no children to love and no want for another mate she hoped to join Frodi, but not before taking a high toll of those who killed him.
     Arnora sent her axe down in a powerful arc, delivering a fatal blow to her third opponent. As the man fell away, she scanned ahead, looking for her next victim. She never saw the enemy on her left and slightly behind; the one who pushed the blade of a sax through her tunic, between her ribs and deep into her heart. The daughter of Orr was forced to scream as pain exploded across her chest. Her vision darkened quickly, her body wavered. She called out her husband's name once and slipped to the beach.
     The man who had killed Arnora enjoyed his victory only a short time. Within seconds, the cutting edge of a sword blade split through his leather helmet and skull, penetrating to eye level.