Blood dripping from your fists. Your arm, side and leg, marked by deep cuts, were throbbing. You felt tired, sleepy, and barely had your eyes open, but you still stayed sitting up, your expression harder than stone. One of your eyes was swollen, due to a blow you received on the battlefield. Nothing serious.

Four healers were looking after you, wrapping your wounds into clean bandages and making sure you were relatively fine. The usual stinging of the pastes that these women put on your cuts was almost more painful than the actual injuries.

It was comforting to see four people do so much only to be rudely told not to bother, but see that you were fine. You'd never dared to do that, as you respected them too much, so you simply gave the women a reassuring smile, leaning your head back.

A Jomsvikings commander who was kind and docile off the battlefield? How strange.

«Hey, woman!» Suddently, the other commander and also your friend, Thorkell, entered the tent, yelling, causing the healers to flinch at his loud tone.

«How did you get the idea to rush to the enemies so recklessly? You were about to get yourself killed. It would've been a stupid and ridiculous death. If it wasn't for Thors, you would have ended up dead!»

«But I killed their leader. You're only envious. What coward wouldn't risk his life for the victory and the success of the plan?» you protested, still leaning back.

«You all, get out. We have to talk. The wounds are already bandaged, she's fine, so get out!» he ordered to the healers, causing them to run out, only after you gave them another reassuring smile and nod. Then you turned to him with a serious expression.