Chapter 9: Chapter Nine

ADA

“Ada! Ada!” One of the men from my village nudged me. Coll was his name; he had worked on the farm until I was no longer able to pay him. He was always one of the last of our workers to leave.

Coll was a kind and gentle man who always treated me and my mother well. “Quickly, you must leave.”

“What?” I asked, rubbing my eyes as I came fully awake. “What is it?”

“They’re on their way to take you.”

“Who is?”

“One of the Vikings. A townsperson used the knowledge of your beauty as leverage for his life. He told him all about the men willing to pay large sums of money to have you.”

“Why is this man coming to take me?” I asked in disbelief.

“For your weight in silver. The townsperson told him about the price Lugh was able to settle for your hand.” There was such fear in his eyes. I knew I could not delay any longer, nor could he.

“Coll, you must go about your work. No matter what happens, do not interfere, or you will be killed.”

“I promised your mother I would keep you safe.”

“Oh, Coll, you have by telling me this news. Now go. You must stay alive to tell Lord Cayden. He will find me, whatever the course.”

We both ran out of the house; Coll in the direction of the grain, and myself toward the stables. I could hear horses stampeding in the distance. It would only be a matter of time until this man arrived.

I decided I must go with these men—if I attempted to flee, they would chase me and most likely kill me. So, I stood there and waited for my fate to arrive.

Three men rode up to the farm. Their appearance was similar to the Vikings I had become familiar with. Two men stayed on their horses while one man in the front dismounted.

He was several inches taller than me and much larger. I was disgusted by how dirty his face was. It bore many scars. The dark beard on his face was thick and was the only hair on his entire head.

“The man does not lie. You are a fair maid indeed.”

I’d forgotten I was no longer covered up. I stood tall and strong in my position as he approached. I did not want to show him how scared I was in that moment.

“You have me at a disadvantage. You know so much about me, and yet I do not know who you are.”

He looked back at his two men and started to laugh. He took three steps in my direction and noticed my hand was shaking. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. My name is Weylin. I am your lord’s cousin.”

“Cayden?”

“Yes, Cayden.”

“What is it that you want?”

“Your ~services~ are no longer needed here,” he said with a smirk. “You are to be sold. I have sent word to the neighboring towns.”

Breathing through my fear, I asked, “Does Lord Cayden know you are here?”

“Yes, of course. He’s the one that sent me to do his bidding.”

“I wish to wait until he returns to hear these words from him.”

“That won’t be a possibility,” he said, standing only a few inches away from me. We looked at each other for a moment, and before I could turn to run, he grabbed me around the waist.

I struggled as much as I could to get away from him until he took out his knife.

“There are two ways you may come with me. Voluntarily or involuntarily. What will it be?”

We rode into the town, a place I had not seen in some time. It was completely destroyed by death and desolation. I sat in front of Weylin on his horse, with one of his arms around my stomach.

He rode proudly, and his mannerisms reminded me much of Lugh. Other Vikings shouted profanities at me in Gaelic and Danish.

The few survivors in the town only looked at me with pity, as if they knew the doom that waited for me.

We arrived at the lord’s hall of the town, entering the main floor. It was filled with other Vikings who drank and passed women about the room.

The hall fell silent upon our appearance, and I looked around to meet the eyes of every man in the room. The profanities continued with large roars of laughter.

With Weylin’s hand remaining around my waist, the feeling of his body pressed up against mine nauseated me. I looked ahead of us to see an older man rising from his seat. He patted Weylin on the shoulder.

“You’ll make us very rich, my dear… Aye, very rich.”

“Shall I put her in the dungeon?” Weylin asked the man.

“No, first we’ll have some fun with her.”

I realized this was exactly what my mother had worked so hard to protect me against. Being gawked at like some prized pig. Each waiting for a turn. I cursed myself for removing my veil. Sitting on Weylin’s lap, feeling his dirty hand massage my leg, I wished I had chosen death back at the farm.

“The men are growing restless. I think it is time to lock her in the dungeon,” the older man, whose name I had come to know was Rankin, said to Weylin.

Weylin stood up and dragged me by the arm down to the dungeon, a damp, dark place. He pointed to a bucket in the corner for me to relieve myself and threw a canteen of water at me.

I could tell he was drunk from celebrating all day. Without speaking, he looked at me the same way all the others had, and I knew he wished to ride me.

Weylin lingered a bit, but after a few moments walked out of the room and locked the door.

“See you tomorrow.” He smiled through the bars.