The gates were pulled open and the horses moved forward, striding into dark pagan land. Faylin knew that she was entering the enemy's territory; a cold reality she would now have to face every day as her only route of escape had been cut off.
Feeling tears pricking the back of her eyelids, she clenched her fists so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, leaving deep half-moons indentations in the soft flesh. She had a sudden urge to scream like a madwoman and hit something hard to vent her anger, frustration and sadness to get them out of her body and mind. But no, she would not do it. She refused to show any weakness.
If she did that, she would not only end up hurting herself but also turn into one of them âa barbarian.
Is this the way I envisioned being defeated? She almost scoffed at the idea.
Her eyes flickered and she licked her chapped lips and watched as they passed many longhouses, some with small vegetable gardens surrounding the structure. Although she would never admit it, it appeared to be a prosperous village. Unlike her own village, this was, very well organized.
She noticed how a few of the men who had ridden alongside Tore dispersed themselves. Women had smiles on their faces as the warriors swept them off their feet and embraced them. Faylin watched in disgust as some even went as far as to hurry on into their houses, full of beaming smiles and hearty laughter.
It was startling, bringing within her a feeling of sheer repugnance. There was no respect here nor were there any manners. Even in broad daylight!
Faylin turned her face away. Maybe for these people it was normal behavior, but for her, one who had taken a vow of abstinence, this was sinful.
"What will happen to the girl who slept beside me?" she asked Tore, hoping to get a straight answer from him.
"I will give her as a gift to my brother. No harm will come to her as long as she shows respect to Eirik," he replied. Faylin contemplated his words and the true meaning behind them. They had a sort of strange assurance though they did nothing to convey the underlying threat: Be meek and submissive. That way I might not pour out my wrath on you.
"You monster! We are not objects! Y-you can't pass us around whenever you wish!" she yelled at him, twisting and squirming to get herself free of his hold, completely unaware of the attention she was attracting.
Faylin cried out in pain as Tore grabbed her hair forcefully, tipping her head back. Her body started shaking in fear while her heart pounded painfully in her chest. His grip on the reins tightened when he noticed her tremors.
"I swear by Odin, I'll drag you along behind this horse if you don't calm down," he warned her, burying his face in the crook of her neck briefly. Faylin nodded quickly just so he would let her go. She wanted to push him away and have the feeling of his beard scratching against her skin gone.
After releasing her hair his, fingers massaged her scalp to ease the pain. Her face flushed with anger. Like that was going to soothe her.
"I hate you," she hissed, venom flowing in her tone.
"Your words mean nothing to me, woman," he said, amusement lacing his voice. Faylin gritted her teeth as his hand came to rest on her thigh. "This hate consuming you will keep me alive. It will guide me when I go sailing." He leaned closer, making sure she was the only one who heard him. "Rest assured that I will always find my way back to you; to the comfort of your arms."
She let out a snort; his words were making her stomach queasy. "I despise your entire being. I'd rather die than to give myself to a man like you," Faylin said in a serious and cold tone.
She chose to believe God would see it as an act of repentance. Although she still could not bear his closeness, the thought of one of his men - of him - seeing and handling her body made her cringe.
Unknown to her, the men who had been watching their sparing exchanged knowing grins.
Tore found her determined attitude one of her most endearing feminine traits. No one had ever dared to defy him this way, and certainly not a woman who barely reached his shoulder. She was either very foolish or very brave, he decided. Nonetheless, it made him want her more.
"There will come a day when you will come to me willingly, skatten Minn." His voice had dropped to a husky whisper.
His response made her uncomfortable, but she did not let it show. Her gaze focused straight ahead; staring in silence as the path they had taken wound up the side of a slight hill.
Nestled in the shadow of it was a massive and imposing longhouse. There were other structures connected to it by what she was certain to be passageways.
She had never seen anything like it before.
As they closed the distance, Faylin noticed the steps leading to the house was made of stones and the roof was heather thatched. Thinly, translucent animal hides stretched across holes in the walls and the front door was made of wood elaborately carved.
The high place overlooked the huge gates behind them and everything else around it. Indeed, it had an advantageous position; if ships were to be seen approaching their shore, they would have the upper hand.
Just then, the horse neighed, pulling her out of her thoughts. An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of Faylin's stomach as they dismounted. She knew that the time would eventually come and that this was not a dream; that she would have face this unbearable truth somehow...
As Tore's large hands loosened their grip about her waist after helping her down, Faylin glimpsed movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to look and realized that it was... a woman. The blonde's face broke into a full smile as their eyes met.
Faylin scowled.
Wrenching herself free of Tore's grip she took a few steps back, watching as the woman wearing a long white dress and a blue shawl fastened by a brooch at the base of her neck, walked directly into Tore's arms. She averted her eyes to the ground, feeling like she was invading their privacy.
"Rest assured that I will always find my way back to you...to the comfort of your arms."Â His words came rushing to her mind.
She felt bad for his wife. Not knowing about his infidelity. He was animalistic and cold-Â just like his heathen heart.
"Faylin."
Her head jerked up as Tore beckoned her over with a nod. It was the first time he had said her name. However, it had come out in a low, growly voice she barely recognized.
She hesitated, her eyes fixed on the scene before her. The blonde woman was now in the raven-haired man's arms, looking into his eyes while caressing his beard. Faylin felt bile rise up in her throat. Did they share the same woman?
"Come," came his firm command. It was clear in his voice he was displeased with her lack of obedience. "Do you wish to rile me further?" His voice hardened as he moved towards her, livid, a vein throbbing on his forehead.
She shook her head quickly, stopping any protest she might have made. The only time she had seen him look this angry was on the ship, when his hand had wrapped around that man's throat. The same hand now clenched into a tight fist at his side and she suppressed the urge to rub her slender throat.
"I see you have acquired a new slave, brother," said the woman as she examined Faylin from head to toe, shameless in her inspection. Faylin had not heard her approach; she had been too lost in her own mind to even notice.
"This one's special. She is to serve me," Tore grunted with irritation.
The woman raised an eyebrow, her gaze never wavering from Faylin. "Pretty young thing"
Their language was foreign; she did not know what that meant! What were they talking about? Were they talking ill about me?
Dimly aware of the pressure at her side as she was led inside the house, she casted a quick glance over her shoulder. Tore was still rooted to his spot, back turned to her.
She began regretting her actions.
When they entered the house, Faylin was hit by warmth. The first thing she noticed was the entrance porch. There were cloaks hung on the walls and it made her wonder how many more of Tore's kin lived there. The small entrance hall had many tapestries adorning the carved walls, lined with wooden panels. They portrayed fierce warriors with shields and swords in what looked to be a battle scene.
It made her remember the day her world collapsed.
The woman pulled her off to an aisle on her left. It led to a grand and luxurious hall. There was a fire pit ringed with stones in the center of it and on both sides, two long tables with wooden benches topped with sheepskin. Faylin looked at the beaten-mud floor. She hoped the only thing required from her would be to do the cleaning - a more pleasant task.
"You have no need to worry. The chores you will be given are lighter than the rest of the slaves in this house. Tore won't have you tired out for when night falls."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I'm Turid. You?" Faylin frowned lightly and looked at Turid. Her face was devoid of any expression.
"I'm Faylin"
"Faylin." The word drifted slowly from Turid's tongue. She nodded her head slowly. "I'll get someone to bring you water and pour it into the basin."
Turid turned to leave then, but paused, looking at Faylin again. "Do not push him. You will do well to hold your sharp tongue around here; you are no longer a free woman. Heed my words"
After the blonde had left, Faylin sank to her knees, her back pressed against the large basin. She had no tears to cry.
Would it change anything? Her sensibilities kicked in. No, it wouldn't.
As useful to her survival the advice was, she still, she wasn't sure if she should trust this woman, Turid. She had an intimidating aura around her that left Faylin wary.
Without warning, the door opened and she jumped to her feet, startled. Tore entered, much to her chagrin-Â "Do not push him..."- and closed the door behind him. She didn't like the feeling of being trapped. The space they shared seemed to be getting smaller as she met his smoldering gaze.
"Undress."
Faylin gaped at him, eyes widening at his order "What?" Exhaling a shaky breath, she wrapped her arms around herself.
"Take off your gown" he repeated.
Faylin stumbled back and shook her head. Anger welled inside of her.
She would not hear his commands nor would she obey him!
"I will not do such thing, you filthy beast!" Faylin yelled at him. She was red with fury, her face ablaze. "Don't come any closer! If you touch me-"
In one swift motion, he closed the distance, his right arm wound around her back to pull her flush against his body. Faylin barely had time to let out a protest before he had grabbed the back of her neck and roughly smashed his lips against hers, his hands pressing her tight against him.
She gasped in shock, fear filling her at his actions. A man was kissing her! A barbarian nonetheless!
A mixture of sensations coursed through her body. They left her uncomfortable and sick.
Faylin's struggles became frantic; his hands were taking liberties she did not allow, roaming her body freely. Her air supply was growing shorter as his kiss became hungrier.
Caught between a rock and a hard place, Faylin did the only thing she could.
She bit him.