Gyda struggled to remember where she was when she woke. The cave was damp, smoke spiraling up from the cooling campfire. Her skin was chilled and her hair and eye lashes felt crunchy in the morning chill. Once the sleep cleared from her mind she remembered. She was off on a quest to find the Seer's Stone to gain control of her sight. A stone that would also exact payment as cost for the sight. She shivered. A plate of still warm roasted fish sat to her left - Asvaldr's doing, but he was not in sight.
"Asvaldr?" Gyda called, voice loud inside the small cave.
Gripping the fish in one hand, Gyda began to pack up their belongings and nibble on breakfast. The fish left her hands sticky and greasy, but it didn't matter. No one was here to see, and she sure didn't care what Asvaldr thought. After ten minutes of tidying, the fish was consumed and she still waited. It seemed like a long period for just scouting the area or taking a piss or whatever he was doing. Within another ten minutes Gyda's hair was plaited, a braid that swung at waist length and the horses were fed and watered. Gyda's hairs prickled, he wouldn't have gone far without his horse. It didn't make sense what was taking so long.
Stepping outside, the day had bloomed warmer than the last. No rain clouds in sight. She sighed in relief. She wasn't positive she could do two days in a row of the previous day's weather. Gripping her bow and an arrow, she mounted, Asvaldr's horse tied behind them. While she wasn't a warrior like the rest of her family, she was exceptional with a bow. It was her one athletic ability that trumped even her father's. But, she couldn't use a broad sword to save her life and her weapon of choice lacked in close range combat. Scouting the area she found her guides tracks, some over turned leaves, broken sticks, but no other signs of him. After an hour of searching Gyda decided to return to the cave in hopes that they were just missing one another in passing. Shouting to the east made her still in her trek back.
"He should have been dead already, what are you waiting for?" It was a low hoarse voice, darkened with deadly intent.
Quietly dismounting she tied the horses and pulled her bow to the ready. Crouched, Gyda moved forward under the cover of foliage and trees until the clearing came into view. The viking woman sucked in breath. Four men surrounded Asvaldr, who was now bound, kneeling at their feet. The few small valuables he had on his person were stripped, scattered at his feet. Looters. Thieves. The four men ranged in ages, all in a sort of decay - clothing old and tattered, teeth rotting, skin filthy.
"What are you waiting for Roki, kill him," The youngest man spat.
The man who Gyda assumed to be Roki kneeled to meet Asvandr's gaze. &Who is travelling with you?& The words were whispered in a delicate way the made Gyda tremble.
"No one is with me. I am travelling alone." Asvaldr looked up for the first time as he spoke, signs of fighting showed in the busted lip and blackened cheek.
Roki smiled, and turned to pace in front of her traveling partner, "No, no, no. I don't think so." The thief held up a strip of leather that she used to bind her plaited braid. Feeling along her braid she noticed it missing, after having just tied it this morning.
"While we were walking, I saw you slide this woman's binding under a branch with your foot. Clearly you didn't want us to notice it. She must have lost it recently, still be nearby," The man smirked, "And look, two sets of fresh horse tracks. One horse for you and the other for your female friend."
Asvaldr stood his ground, eyes meeting Roki's, "I don't know whose that is, I didn't travel with a horse, it's someone else, not a part of my party."
"Liar." Roki said, sending a sharp punch to Asvaldr's gut.
Asvaldr grunted, doubled, gasping in pain.
Roki pulled out his sword, an ugly, rusted weapon. "Well, I think Asger, you were right. We should just kill him since he's not willing to be more accomodating."
The sword was lifted overhead, speckled rust spots and silver glinting in the midday sun. Gyda also raised her bow. The arrow was true, a thwump into the villian's chest. The sword fell, Asvaldr rolled away, Roki's body folded, and the three remaining men dived for cover. Gyda was able to catch one of the other men in the back as he fled.
"Two left," She breathed.
Leaning against a tree she pulled out another arrow from her back sack, notching it silently. Running in a crouch, she moved forward, eyes searching. By now they could be behind her, her back no longer safe. Tree bark scratched against her cheek as she leaned forward, peaking around it's trunk. Nothing. Turning back she leaned to glance the other way. She barely had time to breath before she notched and shot her third arrow. It caught Asger in the neck just two feet away. If she hadn't turned when she did he would have caught her. Blood spurted from the artery, spraying hot liquid at her feet. She closed her eyes for just a moment to control her breathing.
Focus. Focus. Focus.
The last man was wirey, lanky between the ages of 18 and 30. He was silent during the entire exchange, and Gyda couldn't measure his personality from the short interaction. She wasn't sure what to expect from him. She needed to reach Asvandr, untie him and give him her dagger that was tucked inside her left boot. Two against one were much better odds.
The sun sparkled through the tree branches, birds sang. It was a very pretty day. Too pretty for death. It made the entire thing seem unreal. Never in Gyda's life had anyone tried to kill her. She'd always been tucked safely in Kattegat. Safely beneath her father's wing. And although she had been taught to kill, trained along with the other children, she was never expected to be a warrior. Everyone saw her daintiness, her delicacy and knew she wouldn't go on the raids, or follow in her mother's footsteps. But here she was, living out her Viking bloodline.
The last man charged, close, too close to shoot before he rammed into her. Straddling her his large hands clasped her neck, fingers pressing until breath would not leave or enter. She was surprised he had no weapon on him, but his advantage in body weight and strength was weapon enough. She scratched at his eyes, and beat him with her fists. Feeling along the pine needles and loose earth, her fingers searched for anything to fend him off. Finally falling upon an uneven rock, sharp edges digging into her palm. With the last of her strenght she slammed the rock into her attacker's temple. His finger's slackened instantly, body limp against her own. Gasping and chocking she shoved him off, lowering her head between her knees. She felt sick.
Asvaldr appeared then, still bound, gasping for breath, falling to his knees by her seated form, "Are you alright? Are you injured?" His eyes were searching, bound hands gliding over her limbs.
"Yes," Her voice barely above a whisper, scratchy from her recently bruised throat.
"Your neck," He scowled, fingers lingering on her already darkened flesh, "Are they all dead?"
"Yes," She said again, lifting her head as if she just noticed him, "Are you alright?"
He laughed then, a deep rumbling, "You just fought four men and you are asking me if I'm alright," He waived his hands in the general area of his face, "This is nothing. You've done worse."
She grimaced.
"Untie me," He demanded, still smiling at his own joke.
She untucked and unrolled the rope with delicate hands, releasing him. They both sat for a moment, the damp earth seeping into their pants, chilling them both. Gyda spoke first, shivering.
"I've never killed anyone before. Today I killed four."
Asvaldr looked at her sharply, surprised. Most Viking's had killed before their eighteenth birthday. It was rare to find a Viking as inexperienced as Gyda. An innocent.
Not innocent anymore.
Even if it was their people's way, a Viking's first kill as never easy. It tended to leave a bad taste in one's mouth and haunt dreams. Most quickly grew out of it, overcame their emotions. Asvaldr felt that Gyda would not. She was the type of person who would carry each death with her for the rest of her life. Only their second day together and he had already failed to protect her.
"I'm sorry Gyda."
Gyda smiled gently, trying to push past the melancholy, "I'm too old anyway - to not have my first kill. My mother would be celebrating right now."
"Should we press on?"
He had thought about going back to their cave for the day, after all the excitement. But with neither of them truly injured there would be no point. They still had half a day to travel before dark.
"Yes. Let's press on."