One thought, that's all it took.
Katerina's hands fell slack from the horse's reins as she looked down upon the keep where her family lived. The rolling green hills, the robust granaries, and sweet breeze that made Bulgaria home called down to her. She stood up on one of the higher hills in the area where the stables were kept. She frequented the place often, if only to get away from her cloying family for a moment. Her father never liked when she got lost in her own thoughts, thoughts usually too despicable or outrageous to share. She didn't know where these thoughts came from, but if she did not watch herself, one thought turned to another, and soon, she escaped to an entirely new world where things were different. No parents, no village life. Sometimes she imagined terrible things, beasts that roamed and drank the blood of others to sustain themselves. She'd told her friends about them, but where they all became frightened, Katerina felt a kinship with the idea. The closeness she felt to that reality was what frightened her, and she'd quickly learned that she could not speak of it to others, lest she become another Cassandra, doomed to voice the future yet have nobody believe her.
It was in that moment, yet again, that she had allowed herself to become enveloped in yet another revelation so deeply that she hadn't heard the oncoming hordes. It wasn't until the first bloody scream rang out in the peaceful air that Katerina snapped from her reverie, her limp hand curling into a fist on the horse's reins once again. Her eyes fixated on the land beneath the keep, where it was swarmed with men, shouting, whooping and yielding weapons. They cut down many in their paths, helpless villagers who had happened to be passing. Katerina felt fear grip her heart, the shock of the oncoming threat enough to freeze her in her place. Her gaze darted to the keep, a formidable mansion built on the good fortune of the Petrovas, and felt another stab of fear spear her heart. Her parents. The hordes had come pillaging. Her instincts roared into action, and she yanked the reins taut, slipping her foot into the makeshift saddle to straddle the horse. The beast whinnied in surprise, and Katerina yelped as it shot down towards the keep. She quickly regained control of the animal and spurred it forward.
It wasn't long before she was lost in the chaos that ensued. Villagers screamed and ran for cover as the oncoming teams of men sacked and raided, cutting down anybody in their path. She saw a group burst into a hut, the screams of the family ringing in her ears as she galloped closer towards the gate. She'd outrun most of the horde for now; they seemed to be amusing themselves with terrorizing the villagers and had yet to turn their eyes towards the prize: the Petrova fortune. The two guards posted at the gate stood steadily at their positions, but Katerina could see fear in their eyes as she neared them. But why? The horde was still far enough away-
Then she realized that their straightened forms and alertness were not tributes of respect to her status - they were immediate panic. Katerina glanced behind herself in time to see that a group of them were gaining on her, with half on horseback. She kicked the horse into action, her skirts flurrying around her and her brown curls bouncing against her back as she rode the horse towards safety. But would it be safety?
White-hot panic flared in her as she spotted riders on either side of her, closing in on her. With only a few feet left, she took her chance and slid from the horse, barreling towards the iron gates with as much speed as she could muster. Her satin shoes slipped in the grass, and her skirts weighed her down, but the guards opened the gate for her and she slipped in between them just as the riders descended upon the keep. She had no time to look behind her to discover the fate of the two guards, she simply kept running. Her footwork was much improved on the stone steps, but none of it seemed like enough.
In fact, she had been running so hard that she hadn't even noticed a man standing in the threshold of her home. A man that certainly was not her father. She slowed her movements involuntarily; her body was screaming at her to keep running. Brown eyes narrowing, she lifted her chin defiantly as she realized the blonde man in front of her was one of them. A viking. And he was in her home. Where were her parents?
Coming to a standstill in front of him, her heart pounding in her ears, she blinked and realized she had missed what he'd said. All she could think about was what sort of carnage lay within her own home. An amused smile told her that he'd been expecting this reaction, and was acting graciously to repeat himself - as though he'd been doing her a favor. Anger burned within her like a fire.
"Zdraveĭte, Dama Petrova. My name is Niklaus."
The man stood with his hands behind his back, exuding a large enough presence that Katerina did not take one step closer, yet curiosity and fear itched at her. It made it difficult to concentrate on anything but getting inside. "I know you. What are you doing here?" The Viking warlord Niklaus and his lapdog of a general, his brother, were known for pillaging the coastlines, looking for treasure. Though she had never expected the brothers to cross the Mediterranean Sea, or set their sights upon Bulgaria. And why her family?
Niklaus chuckled quietly, though his smile did not reach his eyes. Katerina had never seen a man look so cold, yet so bemused before. She could hear the ongoing assault on her land behind her, yet she could do little but stand trapped in the courtyard. "Let me aside." She demanded, moving to step around the man. Niklaus sidestepped her with an inhumanly quick movement, which left Katerina to wonder if she'd grown disoriented from the shock. "I'm here for the moonstone."
Taking a half-step forward, she narrowed her eyes at the man and scoffed, then finally barreled her way through the threshold of the door. Inside lay carnage. Pools of blood marked where bodies lied still, servants and guards alike torn apart… by a single man. Though it seemed as though everybody in the house was dead, she saw no Vikings other than the one who stood so arrogantly in her home. As she came upon more and more corpses, panic and fear blossomed in her chest so greatly that she could hardly make it up the stairs. The entire first floor lay slaughtered.
"Mama!" She shouted, balancing herself against the walls as she stopped at every doorway. "Papa!" No voices came, and she feared the worst. Each room she passed was either empty or had already been descended upon. There was not a living soul in the keep. The chill of death threatened to overtake her senses as she ran towards the end of the hallway, her footsteps echoing in the stone hallways. The sun was beginning to set, and no candles were lit. The oncoming gloom seemed more than appropriate, for Katerina feared she would never again see the light herself. Finally coming to the west wing, the location of her parents' chambers, she sped forward to slam herself against the door, only to be stopped in her tracks by a pair of hands.
"No!" Katerina screamed, alternating between reaching forward to grab the door handle and attempting to kick back whoever had a grip on her. His hands were like stone, and she could not pull towards the door no matter how hard she tried. "Let go of me! Mama!" Clawing at anything that resembled human skin, she fought without ever once looking back at her attacker.
To her despair, she found herself being dragged away from the door, with no more certainty of her parents' fate than she was before. Screaming had no effect, struggling had no effect. Sobs began to choke her words, and the door only got farther away from her. She finally turned to look at her attacker, expecting to see Niklaus with his cold smile. Instead, she saw another faceless Viking man, offering no information as to where he was taking her. As his hands dragged her away, his arm eventually coming to loop across her limp torso, she only knew for certain that she would never set eyes on that door again.
