Ólafur took advantage of his surprise attack, disarming the young guardsman and grabbing him by his neck and back. Although the guard was protected by a fine set of armor, and gave all the resistance he could, he obviously was no match for the strong Norseman, who fought like a wild beast. Fighting and wrestling was a physical activity which excited Ólafur, as he favored all manly efforts. Testing his strength with another man almost gave him more satisfaction than caressing and making love to a woman. Witnessing his twin brothers fight over a woman had almost ended fatally, which made Ólafur rather reserved towards courting a lady. He probably also was to restless to settle down and start a family of his own. Being among men had always felt more natural, even among enemies, which could excite him even more because of the danger of being attacked or even killed. This made Ólafur feel alive.
Aasim couldn’t turn the fight into his advantage, which made him afraid for the terrible wrath he would encounter, having to admit he had not been able to resist one unarmed man. In his mind he was praying for strength, granted to him by the almighty in his duel against this blond devil in the shape of a god. He even begged this stranger to spare him and not braking his neck, what he expected would be his fate. If only this blond devil could understand his words.