Chapter 7: Fire
Sidsel forced herself to cough as the longship continued its course up the river. While the thick smoke emanating up river did not irritate her, she noticed Ceolbert was coughing up a storm; figuring imitating his behavior might prevent her lungs from charring. She tapped her foot impatiently. There is nothing to contest the ships speed, why can't we go any faster!
Upon reaching the dock Sidsel would've charged forward were it not for Ivarr's aggressive warning. She, like countless others, had only heard tales of his conquests. How fluid his fight style was, his preference for Saxon guts to conventional polish for his weapons. He was also infamous for his temper. Though he was guarding her with his axe now, she had absolutely no doubt he would turn it on her in a split second if it satiated his hunger for blood. A hunger she could relate to. Best not aggravate it now, if at all.
Stepping off the ship and onto the dock she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts. The village was no more. It had been completely consumed by flames, those being long extinguished.
Virtually everything was gone.
Sidsel's only immediate comfort was her mental reverse engineering of the scene before her. Just as she was able to reform a leg she had broken in at least two, if not three places, she could mentally reconstruct the village that was once there. Mounds of ash sprinkled with embers were surely huts, maybe even houses. Piles of flesh, black and flakey from being scorched, were most likely children once playing in the streets based on their petite size. Arguably the saddest sight was a corpse hanging outside the door or what was left of a stone structure, most likely a grainery. Not only was it highly flammable, but the stone would trap in an insane amount of heat.
Bad way to meet one's demise.
While she would normally entertain the sound of a poor souls screams when exposed to such extreme conditions, she was not in the safety of her chamber. Where she was life, God, and death. She was out in the wild on an important mission. And things were not looking good to say the least.
"This was deliberate." Eivor said, pulling her tunic over her nose to block the smoke.
"You really think so?" Sidsel asked sarcastically.
"You sound so certain. I've heard of whole villages being lost to a single fire growing out of control?" Ceolbert asked.
"Your eyes are not yet trained to see sabotage? Oh, the irony. See the pitch-black spots along here?" Sidsel said, motioning to different parts of the wreckage. "Those are origin points. Multiple fires were set here, otherwise there would be one, clear epicenter." She explained.
"God...these poor people." He stuttered as he carefully stepped over the corpse of another child.
"Children do not move any more or less than adults, little pup." Sidsel grumbled. He's moving slower than the ship was!
"I-I know! It's...I'm not accustomed to such horrible sights." He said, sadly.
"Then get used to it." Sidsel retorted.
"What would you know about battle? The only blood you've witnessed has been of your own making! In the confines of that cozy nest of yours!" Ivarr taunted her.
Sidsel frowned. She was well aware she had never seen battle, not all of it at least. Her curse limited her experience to the aftermath of a victory at best, and at worst she'd be tasked with healing the most serious injuries sustained in battles lost. Surely Ivarr would've thought of that by now. Or was he so battle drunk he was incapable of seeing that?
"A fair point, but you can tell this wasn't a battle. This was a slaughter. I see no swords or bows anywhere." Eivor said.
"Unless they took those too?" Sidsel proposed.
"Unlikely." Eivor said.
Ivarr rolled his eyes. "Let's just hurry up and find your friend!" He yelled.
"Shush! You want to bring whatever's out there on us?" Eivor hissed.
"You're honestly opting for a stealth approach?!" Ivarr complained loudly.
Well, this ought to be interesting.
Then, as if on cue, a lone figure stumbled towards the group - undoubtedly the only survivor of the slaughter. Based on their tattered dress it was most likely a woman. Whoever she was she could barely walk in a straight line as she limped down the dusty road down the center of the village.
Sidsel squinted through the smokey air before coming to an equally horrifying yet paradoxically relieving sensation. The figure hood blew over from a sudden gust of wind. A sudden gust of wind flurried the air, and though caked in ash, Sidsel could make out a thick mane of icy blonde hair. She'd recognize that unique trait anywhere.
"It's Sonja!" Sidsel said, elated.
"What?" Eivor and Ivarr said in unison.
"Sonja!" Sidsel cried out. This time she paid no care to anyone's warnings, sprinting towards her clearly injured friend. Gods knew what she must've endured. The horrific sights she'd seen. Sonja was pure innocence, an angelic healer in the making. Sidsel knew at some point she'd see horrific sights in her work but she'd hope it would never be something like this. Sidsel could handle such environments. Sonja was still soft. Her migdr still amiable from her youth alone. Hedda would surely be worried this would corrupt Sonja; traumatize her to the point she would become a shell. Sidsel couldn't let that happen. No, wouldn't let that happen.
Sonja tripped over a rock, landing on her back. She barely propped her neck up weakly. Her blue eyes reddened and tearing from the smoke. Sonja reached her hand out towards Sidsel, letting out a weak, garggly, but definite cry of "NOOOOOO!"
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Sidsel looked around wildly at the sudden roar of someone nearby. None other than Eadberg was charging at her and Sonja, spear in hand. Her jet-black eyes were so wide they looked on the verge of popping out of her head.
"YOU'LL DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY CENRIC YOU BITCH!" Eadberg bellowed, throwing her at Sonja. A predictable move to get Sidsel to save the helpless girl, to pin her down and have Eadberg rip her to shreds.
Nice try!
Sidsel yanked Sonja behind her, practically throwing the bewildered girl over her shoulder landing with a meek OOF!
Ivarr, Eivor, and Ceolbert quickly put themselves between her and Sidsel, drawing their weapons.
"You've got nowhere to go but Hellheim!" Eivor sneered.
Eadberg started to laugh. At first it was slow and deep in tone but quickly escalated in a full blow manic cackle.
"FOOLS!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. She pulled a handful of small reddish-brown spheres from a side pouch and swiftly threw them on the ground. A giant plume of gas enveloped the group as Eadberg put on a thick metal mask guarding her nose and mouth.
"Poison!" Sidsel yelled.
"No shit!" Ivarr yelled back.
"This won't...stop…" Ceolbert slurred before falling to his knees. He struggled to keep his head up as his eyes drooped, as if exhaustion had suddenly overtaken him. Sidsel's heart sank as her eyelids grew heavy.
"Sleeeeeeping gaaaaaass…" She drawled before collapsing to the ground. She laid there helplessly as Ivarr and Eivor succumbed to the same gas. The last thing she was able to see before drifting to sleep was Eadberg kneeling down.
Gods...no!