she wanted the goliath to think, and she jabbed her sword toward his flat stomach. The shield easily blocked her first blow, but the second knocked his sword out of his grasp. Sheathing her sword took only a second, and she yanked the shield off his arm, nearly pulling his arm out of the socket too.
One of her slashes had cut through the barbarian shirt he'd stolen to reveal a deep forest green tunic with a black tree on it. The crest of the goliaths. Only goliath nobles and their allies were allowed to wear such finery. If she were to lay her hands on it, she could easily find other goliaths and learn why they were coming around lately. As much as she sang for battle, dreamt of it, she had a greater sense of preservation than her father and other barbarians seemed to have. Especially after seeing the compassion those children possessed. Would they one day outgrow it as the other barbarians before them had? Aging in a world filled with chaos and battle and the constant threat of war ensured that.
Unless some level of peace could be obtained.
A flash of green-tinged skin blurred as a dagger sliced her arm.
The goliath, and not her, had been the first to shed blood.
He'd die for that.
Ivy held the shield high above her head. Yes, the move left her chest vulnerable, but her arms brought the shield down too swiftly. Only by sidestepping did the goliath avoid having the spike on the shield plow through his head.
In a fluid motion, she unsheathed her sword, ready to continue fighting in earnest, but the goliath wrapped his thick, strong arms around her, pinning her arms to her side, her weapon useless. She struggled, but he only pulled her closer to him.
"Hush," he murmured into her ear.
How could she settle when she wanted to thrash about? To kill him for daring to touch her? Her heartbeat drowned out all other sounds save for his. That his heart still circulated blood in his body fueled her anger. The scale of her Bloodlust was rising.
But the goliath held her deathly still, scarcely breathing, and gradually, other noises could be heard. The call of a raven. The screech of a banshee far off in the distance. Much closer, however, was the sounds of footsteps.
And the owners were coming straight toward them.
"Trolls." The goliath's breath brushed against her face, and she wrinkled her nose despite it not smelling wholly unpleasant. She had thought of goliaths as inferior, but this one certainly was a warrior.
"How can you be certain?" Ivy tried to glance around, but his grip tightened. She was so close to him she could see copper specks in his green eyes.
He exaggerated a sniff. After all, Goliaths were known for their advanced smelling prowess.
"How many?" she asked, her voice the faintest of whispers. She struggled to listen to heartbeats other than his but his pounded so loudly, so near, she could hear nothing else, not even the fishes swimming in the pond.
"Impossible to say."
"Let go of me." She thrashed about in his grasp, struggling to break free.
He chuckled faintly. "Am I too strong for you?"
"Hard—"
He clamped a thick, calloused hand over her mouth. "Do you want..." His gaze fixated on something behind Ivy.
Now he released her. She whipped around to see five tall trolls staring down on them, each holding at least two weapons, one even had a blade between its teeth. All wore identical grins, their eyes alive with malice. Their skin a dark color that contrasted with their white armor, built like mountains, the trolls warriors would not go down easily.
If she were a goliatha. Or a puny human.
But she was a barbarian. Their princess at that.
These smirking, snarling trolls had met more than their match.
Without a word, they attacked. The goliath nodded at Ivy, but she paid him no heed. If he thought they were an alliance, even for this battle, he was sorely mistaken.
The nearest troll howled, and her blood curdled, thickening, filling her body with Bloodlust. 'Twas strange that the battle with the