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8.

By Morning Light

Rolanda felt as if she had been hit right in the face by something heavy.

Shock was washing over her in stormy waves and for a period of time that seemed to be an eternity, she was not able to do anything. Her mind seemed to be wiped blank and she just stared into the air before she found her speech again, slowly sorting out the informations she had just received.

This was not possible – her father doing something bad?

No, they had to be lying... or maybe they just had different understandings of good and bad? It had to be like that – after all, this man was serving a "king" that had murdered his way to his crown...

It surely had to be something... something that they would have found offending and worthy for an action like this in their evil minds, while it was probably a very good deed for normal people.

"Your father denied our noble king the knowledge about his powers," the man explained, but he could just as good have spoken the words in the language of the Vikings – she did not have a clue what he was talking about. "And thus, he caused the plans our monarch had had back then unexecuteable. Within the second King Severus had the crown placed on his head, your father had committed high treason and therefore is searched as a traitor to crown and kingdom."

"That is ridiculous," Rolanda whispered, frantically shaking her head, not believing what she was hearing. He father had never possessed any remarkable powers, except for his impressive cake-vanishing skills. What could a simple merchant have for powers that could be so important to a want to be king would need, ones that seemed so essential to a plan that it failed because he did not wanted to help? She could not explain this to herself, it was a complete mystery to her.

It seemed like everything in this whole situation would only get more foggy instead of being sorted out by the answers the man had provided.

Every answer seemed to cause a dozen new questions to rise and her head was actually spinning by now. It was as if she was in an ocean, and those stormy waves were pulling her under.

"It is the truth. Now, you see our urgency to find your parents, and you and your sister were taken to the castle as our insurance, in case they should return to Waterhal. Also, as I mentioned, you surely know something about their whereabouts, girl," he explained, his face dead serious and in fact, Rolanda found it hard to continue to be skeptical about at least a few things. Her father had to have done something, whatever it was, because a person of such a high position would normally not even know a little merchant. But what? What was this omnious power he had been talking about?!

It could not be gold, as they had just enough for a modest life in their small cottage, with some small luxuries from time to time, though Rolanda and Alannah had sometimes had to help out on one of the farms so they could earn some money if they wanted to buy something special.

Political power could be crossed out too, because her father had never really been interested to get involved into things like that. He had not even agreed to be a member of the small village council that allowed them to represent the village's interests.

Economical powers also weren't likely – he only had a small business that was just about supplying Waterhal and its two neighbouring villages with rare goods, mostly fruits, vegetables and soaps, that he bought in one of the port towns. And never had he been keen to expand his business so that it would reach more villages.

"I don't know to which town or port they went," Rolanda answered, her voice shaking, but as she saw the man's expression it was clear that he was not believing a word of what she was saying. His tone, though, was still relatively calm as he said:"Stop lying, girl. You want me to believe that your parents left you and your little sister alone at home, planning to stay away for longer and haven't told you exactly where they were going? What if something had happened, they surely gave you an adress to send a letter to in that case."

Rolanda shook her head, her heart racing in her chest as she realised that he had a point, even though she did not wanted to admit it.

"I... I, they knew our... our neighbours would take care of us if anything would go wrong," she mumbled weakly, feeling her level of nervousness rising again. How she disliked situations in which she had no control about what was happening and how she hated that she had absolutely no proof for her words.

"No caring parent would simply rely on the helpfulness of their neighbours. They have to have left you something, girl, and it would better for you to tell us! It would save you and your sister from a lot of pain!"

Once again, it was as if somebody had slapped her across the face. Immediately, Rolanda glared at the man, her wrists pressing against the ropes that were restraining her. Fury was rising inside of her, shoving the shock away.

"Leave her alone! I swear to all the gods on this world, I don't know where they are! She has nothing to do with this and she is even too young to fully understand all of this," she whispered, working hard to keep herself calm.

"Stop lying. For your own good, girl. I advise you, tell us the truth," the man said, as if he was not listening to her at all. "If you really want to keep your sweet little sister away from harm, you should really tell us what you know. Or... well, maybe we could help to loosen your tongue by... well, being a bit friendly with your sister."

If they had not tied her to the chair, Rolanda would have jumped at them right now. She released a scream of anger as she tried to free her arms from the ropes, tears of rage and helplessness running down her cheeks as she yelled:"Don't you dare to touch her, you filthy toe-rag! Keep your hands off her, she does not know anything, just question me... I swear I don't know everything, they just said that they were heading for the shore and that they would be back in a week! I don't know more, please, believe me!"

She may not be Alannah's mother, but when they were alone, Rolanda was just as good as a mother, and right now, she was acting like a lioness trying to defend her young.

Painful sobs were shaking her body by now and she did not know what to do any more. She was so afraid that they could make their threat true that she wished she had any valuable informations she could give to them. Never would she be able to bear it if they would hurt Alannah, just because she was unable to say anything. How she wished she had asked her father for details, and looking back, it really was a bit suspicious that they had not informed her about anything. They had trusted her with so much because they treated her like an adult, but still her parents had made a secret out of their destination.

"Oh, don't you worry... before we would do something to her, we would hurt you, girly," the man grinned while stepping forwards, running his fingers along Rolanda's jawline. She felt incredibly sick and she gave her last strength to whisper:"I don't know anything... I swear... I swear... I don't know where they are..."

But she knew that this would never be enough to convince them, and tears ran down her cheeks as the superior gestured his two soldiers to step forwards. Seconds later, the first fist was hitting her in the stomach, forcing all the air out of her body and she cried out loud, trying to compensate the pain.

"We will repeat this, girly, until you find your memory back," the superior explained with a loud voice so she could hear him clearly over her own screams of pain. The next blow was coming from a flat hand that hit her cheekbone, causing her smooth skin to burn and turn red.

After the third hit, the salty tears rolling down her face and onto her lips mixed with the metallic taste of blood as her lip did split. When she felt the fifth hit, she had already given up to scream loudly, as she realised that screaming would not keep them from hurting her – it was only making her situation even more humiliating because they were laughing about her whenever she did cry out loudly.

She just hoped that they would stop soon.

On the other side of the castle, far away from the agony Rolanda was experiencing, the new monarch of Ulidia was slowly waking up in his comfortable, warm bed.

The sun was shining brightly through the half-opened curtains, blinding the king as he opened his lids a little bit.

A groan escaped him as he became aware of the horrible headache that was pounding inside of his skull. For him, it was way too early in the morning to wake up after a feast, and the fog clouding his mind, caused by too much wine and mead, was making it hard to think straight. All he wanted was to fall back asleep and only wake up again when this hangover had faded away.

But unfortunately, it seemed like he would be denied this opportunity. Though he closed his eyes again and snuggled into his blankets again, he was not able to pass away into the land of dreams – behind his back, he could hear a constant sobbing, and it was simply distracting him.

Cursing about the pain in his head and also the slight cramps in his stomach, he sat up and turned his head.

Lying next to him in the big bed, curled up in a fetal position, was the blonde woman who had danced at the feast the previous evening. She was crying, trying to be silent, but still her sobs were loud enough to enrage him.

Her obvious distress did not move his heart, not even in the slightest, on the contrary, he was outrightly annoyed. Asking himself why he had choosen her to be brought to his bed at all, he glared at her, only causing her to cry even louder, hiding her face in the pillow.

The last night had not brought him the pleasure and satisfaction he had been searching for, it had been as if his mind had been absent throughout. Throughout forcing the girl to sleep with him, he had realised that she was not the one he had been longing for while watching her dance.

He had started to see the viking girl and not the real object of his desire, and right now he was asking himself where he had seen the resemblance between the slave girl and the beautiful mystical woman with the golden eyes.

It was clear to him that it was not a good sign that he could barely take his thoughts away from this woman, and that he was driven into actions because he was halluzinating about seeing her, about possessing her, making her his. This was not healthy, and was definitely not helping him on his way to greater powers.

But still, he wanted her.

He wanted to know her name, he wanted to look into these eyes again and find out what it was about her that was drawing him towards her. For now, he just knew that she could not forget her, and that this was only because of the faint magic he had thought to have sensed to waft around her spirit.

He wanted to memorise every little bit of her face, so did not have to limit himself to think of her golden eyes... He wanted to feel her skin, and if her spirit really was full of magic.

Trying to draw his thoughts away from her again, he concentrated himself on the crying girl next to him and within a second, he lost the patience he may never have had on a morning like this:"Get up! Leave! Leave my sight, immediately!"

The girl wailed, her face contorted into a ugly grimace as she jumped out of the bed, totally naked, and grabbed the remainders of her dress that had been lying on the floor. As fast as her legs would carry her, she ran out of the king's chambers, her sobs resounding from the stone walls of the hallways.

Severus let himself fall back into his pillows with a relieved sigh, shoving his black hair out of his face before closing his eyes and falling asleep immediately.

In his dreams, he was chasing a beautiful white swan with golden eyes along the shoreline of a crystal blue ocean, but whenever he thought he could reach out and grasp it by its feathers, it opened its wings and flew out of reach. These actions repeated a few times before the swan suddenly raced towards him, and something sharp was hitting his throat, causing him to gasp in pain. He fell to his hands and knees, feeling how hot blood was pooling from his main artery, and as he stared at the waves that were gently washing around his wrists, he saw his own reflection.

Staring at it in shock, he saw himself, not as a human, but as a black swan, a golden crown on his head and he was dying, killed by the white swan who was circling slowly above his head, singing a heavenly melody that sounded oddly human for a swan.

Panting violently, Severus suddenly sat upright in his bed, sweat covering his skin as he tried to calm himself down.