In the dim glow of my study, where silence was a welcoming reprieve from my hectic life, my brother's voice suddenly pierced through the solitude. "Skipping the family shindig, huh?" he remarked, his tone heavy, a note that was unlike his usual jovial way of speaking. I hadn't heard him enter, but it didn't surprise me to see him at my residence. He was allowed to enter and leave when he pleased.
However, I didn't bother turning in my office chair to face him; the click-clack of my keyboard drowning out his presence as I wrote my next dissertation. "Why bother?" I sighed, the words escaping like a defeated exhale. "I'm the odd one out."
"Susie wanted to see you, Liv," he prodded gently, his words a soft plea against the steady rhythm of my keyboard. It was the only two sounds heard in my empty home.
I offered no response, my focus locked on the screen before me.
"Seriously, Liv, are you just going to bury yourself in work like the rest of us don't exist?" His voice held a note of frustration, but there was an unmistakable undertone of concern in his words. This was a dance we've performed before, but tonight I was in no mood for it.
It wasn't like I had much of a choice. Ever since Dad and the almost-step-monster had me chasing academic accolades all throughout my childhood and pre-adult life, it was like I had been on this non-stop treadmill of achievements. Even then, in my thirties, stepping away felt like abandoning the only life I had ever known. Otherwise, I wouldn't be acknowledged within the family.
At the time, I didn't know that was the purpose of my solitude. How my monster of a step-mother tried to control me.
"You're aware that's not my intent. I have commitments, Gregory, a concept that you obviously don't grasp," I asserted, knowing his privileged upbringing had shielded him from certain realities.
"Are your 'commitments' truly more vital than family? When was the last time you visited Susie?" His voice rose with every word, his frustration evident. But I didn't care.
"Why does it matter? She has you and your wife. My presence isn't required."
"But you are needed, Liv! Susie loves you. I love you!" His words hung in the air, punctuated by an exasperated sigh. "I can't keep doing this, Liv. I can't keep chasing you. If you don't want to be part of my family, just say it. Don't just ghost us like this."
His words halted me in my tracks, and I turned in my chair to look at him. Behind me stood Gregory, my half-brother. A man who harbored resentment toward me during our upbringing, fueled by his mother's animosity. Yet, as he matured into his late teens, he recognized the injustice of it all. Over the following decade and into the next, he had made efforts to mend our relationship. I went along, but there were limits to what I was willing to offer.
After all, I was busy trying to obtain my next PhD.
As I gazed at him, he appeared older than my memory served. Resembling our father with his slate-gray eyes, fair complexion, neatly cropped dark brown hair framing an angular jawline, he bore a striking resemblance. Yet, he inherited his mother's petite ears and slender frame, a stark departure from our paternal lineage of tall and broad shouldered men. And then there was I, a reflection of my mother's luminance—tall, with sun-kissed skin and flowing golden locks—stood in stark contrast. The only shared trait between us were our gray eyes.
"I don't know what you want me to say?"
"Say anything, Liv! Just show that you care!"
"I am making an effort, Gregory."
His gaze sharpened, his lip quivering with familiar anger. "It's been over a year since you last saw Susie, you know. You're her godmother, for heaven's sake! She asks about you every week!"
Had it truly been that long? "If it means so much to you, I'll prioritize it next month. I can't fit it in this month."
"If it means so much to me?" His stare pierced me in a new, unsettling way. It was more than just disappointment. I felt my hand clenching at my sides. It wasn't like me. "Is there anything in your life that's important besides," he gestured at my computer, "this!?"
"I care!"
"Then show you care!"
It was a familiar cycle, a script we had acted out countless times. We'd engage in the same heated debate, Gregory storming out dramatically, leaving me in a cold silence for weeks, sometimes months. Then, like clockwork, his call would break the silence, and we'd resume our conversations.
However, this time when he departed, there was no attempt to reconnect. Not from his side.
If only I knew what was to come. I would have done it all differently.
I'd never had a dream that was a memory before, and what a random memory it was. A memory from my past life, no less. And it all happened while I was taking a nap.
But like any dream, I quickly faded from my mind.
What awoke me was Thorfinn. He was wondering if we had already made it to England yet, his small frame bouncing up and down near his father, a wide grin on his face. I laughed at his innocent question from where I sat with a blanket wrapped around me near the front of the ship and Leif, from his own boat near us, informed Thorfinn we weren't even close.
The sailing was long, but the company was good.
Faroe's Island loomed on the horizon, awaiting our arrival as we aimed to navigate through its fjord ahead, a clifted area with a slice of ocean between the cliffs. That slice was our next destination.
Rising from my seat, I let the blanket cascade to the deck below me. Stretching my limbs, I made my way to where the boys congregated near the ship's center, their gaze fixed on the direction indicated by Leif.
"You do know," I began, folding my arms with a mischievous grin, "we'll be tasked with rowing through that fjord."
"Seriously?" Ari's crestfallen response echoed as he surveyed the fjord with disappointment, eliciting laughter from me. He scratched the back of his head with a hint of dismay. "Stop laughing! You'll be rowing too, you know!"
"Oh, I'm well aware. But I rather enjoy the rowing. It's excellent exercise," I remarked with a wink, prompting Ari to sigh even more exasperatedly, which in turn amused Thors, prompting a laugh out of him.
As we neared the fjord, Thors called, "Oars at the ready!" And Ari let out another exasperated sigh.
With each steady beat of the drum, we rowed, with Thors taking on the brunt of the rowing. Bum, row. Bum, row, bum, row. And ever so slowly, we entered the fjord.
It had been well over a month since I'd been to Faroe's Island. As memories popped off from my last visit, I couldn't help but wonder if Brynhild found the time to whip up the recipe I'd shared with her. Were her family as hooked on its flavors as when I last made it? Anticipation bubbled within me, eager for the chance to catch up with Brynhild and ask her just how well it turned out, and to give out any advice if needed.
What really got my heart racing was the prospect of venturing beyond Faroe Island, into uncharted territory, from my perspective. Finally breaking free from Iceland, the cosmic forces seemed to be pulling me towards excitement with an unstoppable fervor. It was like the ultimate adrenaline rush, propelling me towards new experiences and thrilling adventures beyond my wildest dreams.
I couldn't wait for the day to end!
Halfway through the fjord, Leif suddenly stopped beating the drum.
"Leif, you stopped. What is it?" Thors' call drew our attention, causing each of us to turn towards Leif with inquisitive expressions from where we sat on the boat. Leif's demeanor was solemn, even troubled. I could even see it from my position in the middle of our line or rowers, where our boat followed behind Leif's.
"Somethings off," Leif murmured, his words almost lost to the wind, as though he spoke more to his own thoughts than to us.
"What's wrong?"
"I…can't quite tell." he confessed, fingertips absently twirling his mustache—a telltale sign of his contemplation. "But comethings different from the last time I was out here."
Thors gazed pensively at the rugged cliffs, a furrow of concern etching his brow. Following his gaze, I too observed the rocky expanse.
There, amidst the towering formations, a figure clad in a blue tunic moved—a presence too substantial to be a mere trick of the mind.
Well, shit…
In a low voice intended only for those aboard the ship, I whispered, "I spotted someone on the cliff. Don't look up. And Leif's right," I added, keeping my eyes forward. "There are two fewer houses. Quite the change in just a month since my last visit." Dread seeped into my words as I voiced my concern. "Chances are, they've been raided. And fairly recently, too."
But why did they dismantle two houses? As far as I could tell, and I had pretty good eyesight in this new life, they weren't burned down. There was no charing anywhere to be seen.
"We should turn back now," came Thors command. "We might have an ambush awaiting us up ahead."
"An ambush?" Ari's voice quivered in a whisper, and I quickly silenced him with a shush.
"Seriously?" exclaimed another of Ari's friends who had joined us, his expression betraying fear.
"Will you guys shut up? We can't let them know that we saw them," I urged in a hushed and composed tone.
As we started rowing back, our hopes pinned on escaping the fjord to outrun or deter our ambushers, a sudden crackle like boom echoed, followed by a deafening rumble from the cliffs!
Debris and wood and stone crumbled off the cliff, crashing on us and around us with no mercy…
We leaped from our seats, Thors taking a dive to shield his son as debris rained down, pelting our boat and sending it lurching violently in the water. We all scrambled to find shelter, watching the debris fall, trying to predict where it would land next so we wouldn't get hit. One of Ari's friends scrambled to grab a shield we had stationed at the bow, along with other weapons and shields, in case we needed them.
And it looked like we were going to need them…
However, amid the wreckage lay not just any debris, but a chaotic mix of wood and cut stone, akin to materials used in home construction, mingled with personal items such as chairs and barrels.
As we regained our senses, a collective sense of dismay overtook us as we surveyed the blocked entrance to the fjord.
"The entrance is blocked!" Leif exclaimed, his gaze quickly shifting toward our ship. "Thors! Fiadh! Is anyone hurt?"
"Men, are you alright?" Thors asked, pushing aside a plank of wood that landed on him, scanning the bustling activity aboard the ship, with Thorfinn safely cradled in his arms.
"Yes," one of the boys said, looking no worse for wear as he dusted himself off.
"Mostly," said another.
"They'll have archers, use your shields as cover," Thors instructed, rising to his feet and striding across the deck towards the end of the boat that pointed near the exit of the fjord, and near Leif.
As Thors conversed with Leif about the damage to the ships, everyone who didn't have one retrieved a shield from the stack near the bow. I joined them, also grabbing a spare shield, while adjusting my face mask over my mouth and nose which had been dangling loosely around my neck.
Other than a couple of bumps from a chair grazing my back, I emerged relatively unscathed. I considered myself fortunate. However, luck seemed in short supply given our current predicament. We were trapped, with the only escape route leading back towards the exit, towards the island.
Toward the impending ambush.
"They're coming," Thors announced gravely. We all turned our gaze towards the island where the fjord ended, feeling the tension in the air grow thicker by the moment. "We're about to face our captors, so ready yourselves."
Initially, there was silence.
Then, the faint thump of a drum echoed through the air…
Thump, thump, thump…
…and from around the cliff emerged two imposing vessels.
Two formidable warships teeming with warriors.
Pirates. Or, as we would label them a thousand years into the future, Vikings.
Shit, shit, shit, SHIT!
"Hey, if we surrender, do you think they'll spare us?" one of the boys inquired. I couldn't recall his name, or perhaps I was never told it.
"Are you daft?" I retorted, lowering myself into a crouch. "They'll either kill us or make us slaves. There's no mercy to be had, and surrendering would only amuse them."
"They'll do worse to you if they find out you're a girl," Ari interjected, his expression shifting suddenly to one of alarm before quickly morphing into an apologetic gaze, tinged with fear. "Ah, sorry about that. Forget I said anything."
"It's fine," I replied, exhaling heavily. "I'm well aware of what fate awaits me if they discover… that." My gaze wandered to Thorfinn, standing near his father, his own eyes betraying a sense of dread.
As for Thorfinn, they'd likely just kill him. He'd be too burdensome to keep alive aboard a ship for trade, and few would be interested in purchasing such a young child. And if anyone did, it would be for one reason only…
And who was to say that any of these Vikings had those preferences…
Damn it. I never should have allowed him to accompany us!0
"B-but I won't let that happen! I-I'll kill them first before that happens!" Ari declared, unsheathing his sword.
"You're stuttering is so reassuring," I said under my breath.
"Put it away," Thors commanded. How he knew Ari drew his sword was beyond me. Thors back was to us. "These men are warriors. They're not farmers who are moonlighting as pirates for the fun if it. You don't stand a chance against them."
"Father," Thorfinn's timid voice whispered from beneath Thors. Gazing down at him, Thors gently laid a reassuring hand on his head.
Closing his eyes, Thors drew in a deep breath, as if releasing a burden or reaching an internal resolution. Abruptly, he pivoted and strode to the stern of the boat where his chest awaited. Kneeling, he unlatched it and withdrew a sword, securing it around his chest, the blade resting against his back.
Then he pulled out what looked like a thick knife. A short sword.
"Thorfinn," Thors began, his voice tinged with an unusual strain. He raised the short sword towards Thorfinn who had followed him over to the chest, his gaze piercing. "Use this only to protect yourself. Understand? Only as a last resort."
Thorfinn, not fully comprehending, extended his hands, and Thors gently placed the short sword into his grasp. Even in Thorfinn's small hands, the short sword appeared oversized.
Thors looked away from his son and walked away, simmering regret following his wake.
Oh, Thors. What was this doing to you?
"So, we're going to kill them then? I'm right behind you. Let's kill them, right now!" Ari stuttered, trailing after Thors as they approached the bow of the boat, his hand trembling around the sword handle strapped to his waist.
"Don't use that word so lightly," Thors admonished, his back still to us.
Ari only looked at Thors in confusion, but he didn't have long to contemplate Thors words…
Then, just as suddenly, Thors jumped.
"Holy shit!" I accidentally yelled in English as I watched a man do a standing leap, jumping over to the enemy's boat that was just under half a football field away.
What. The. Actual. Fuck!
And from the shouts we heard from their boat, that wasn't normal for them, either.
They didn't call him Thors The Troll for nothing!
Where were these super humans in the future? Not even athletes who spend their whole lives training could ever hope to achieve what I just witnessed.
Just…wow… Thors was awesome!
"He's beating the shit out of them!" I said again in English.
"We can't understand you Fiadh!" said Ari, his gaze fixed on the extraordinary display Thors was presenting aboard the enemy's vessel, mirroring my own astonishment. "But I know what you mean."
"Did you know he could do that?" I asked Ari, reverting back to the Norse language.
"Um, I mean, no. I always knew he was strong, but not like that. Not like…"
"A Troll," I filled in for him.
Thors took down his adversaries one by one, never once drawing his sword, from what I could was a sight to behold, especially when he effortlessly subdued a hulking berserker-like brute who seemed unstoppable. In that moment, there was a glimmer of hope that we might just make it out alive.
But then the question arose: what about the archers?
With that notion in mind, I cast my gaze upward once more, only to be met with the sight of twenty or more archers stationed along the cliffs encircling us, their bows taut and arrows poised. Yet, their reluctance to release their deadly projectiles puzzled me. What, I wondered, were they biding their time for? Perhaps they were awaiting a more dramatic entrance or simply enjoying the suspense.
Bastards enjoyed our discomfort, that was for sure.
Thorfinn's admiration echoed through the air, "That's my father! He's the greatest warrior ever!" I couldn't help but nod in wholehearted agreement.
"It's amazing he's doing all that without drawing his sword," I said. Turning to the others, I posed the question, "But why are they not firing their arrows?"
"Good question," Leif's voice resonated from his boat, his gaze fixed on Thors' triumphant display with an air of concern. "Remain vigilant, everyone. Despite appearances, Thors' victory does not guarantee our escape from this predicament."
At that moment, my attention was drawn to the sight of the other pirate ship rowing swiftly in our direction. Springing to my feet from my previously crouched stance, I exclaimed, "They're headed our way!" Gesturing towards Leif's boat, I urged, "Join Leif and his crew. We stand a stronger chance together as a united force." Glancing at Leif, I hoped my initiative wasn't perceived as overbearing, but his unperturbed demeanor reassured me. Without hesitation, he directed his men to seize a ramp so we could cross over from Thors boat to his.
I couldn't shake the concern that Leif's smaller boat might leave us at a disadvantage, that I was making a mistake. However, I reasoned that its size would make it harder for the enemy to encircle us upon docking, unlike Thors' larger ship.
Thorfinn's voice boomed across the deck as he stood steadfast in the center of the boat, his defiance palpable, his hand gripping his shortsword tightly and directing it toward the incoming ship. "I refuse to abandon my father's ship!" he declared, his tone resolute. "You can't force me to leave!"
His bravery was admirable, but we didn't have time for this.
With urgency coursing through me, I swiftly approached Thorfinn as the other boys made their way to Leif's ship. Grasping him firmly by the collar, I hoisted his now struggling form up and marched back toward where Leif had docked with Thors' boat. Ari trailed closely behind as we prepared to cross, but our movements were interrupted by a sudden jolt as the pirate ship rowed nearer, securing their first wooden dock and connecting our vessels.
They moved so fast. I hadn't realized they were right next to us…
Without thinking, I released the squirming Thorfinn and seized an additional sword resting against the railing, dropping the shield I grabbed from earlier. With swift determination, I sprinted toward the opposite side of our boat where the enemy was docking. As they prepared to place a second docking board, I positioned the sword vertically between the floorboard and the docking board. With first-try luck, I deftly tilted the sword to the left upon its landing, causing the board to plunge into the water below.
Ignoring the flurry of curses and protests hurled my way from the pirates, I shifted my focus to the remaining board, intending to dispose of it as well. Grabbing both sides of the board, my efforts were instantly thwarted as the board refused to yield. Glancing up from where I was crouched, trying to lift the docking board, I locked eyes with one of the pirates, a menacing figure with weathered hair and skin, grinning victoriously at me.
His gaze bore into me with an icy indifference, conveying a sense of calculated assessment. The wicked grin etched across his face hinted at his perverse delight in witnessing our futile resistance. It was clear he relished the spectacle of our defiance, particularly in the face of our apparent hopelessness. They reveled in our predicament, deriving pleasure from our futile attempts to fight back against insurmountable odds.
It was sickening.
And I would rather die than let them capture us. Capture me.
All of the grubby looking pirates laughed at me, their dead eyes gleaming.
"Fia-erm, Thorben, what are you doing? Get back over here! It was your idea to stick as one group, now follow your own advice!" Leif yelled from behind me, but I only took two steps back from the docking plank and ignored him. At least he had the forethought not to use my very female sounding name.
I raised the sword, inhaling deeply to steady my nerves. We needed a distraction, just long enough for Thors to catch up and unleash his superhuman strength on these guys too.
And I was going to be that distraction.
I just needed to tune out, block everything else, and focus on fighting back. My sword skills might not be top-tier, but I'd put in five years of practice.
Zone in on only the fight, dodge their moves.
Inhale. Exhale.
Go numb.
"Well, well, looks like we've got a warrior, men," quipped one, a blond pirate with a well trimmed goatee and mustache sporting a curious black breastplate with gold trimming. He stood directly in the middle of the boat, surrounded by his men. "One who's a bit lacking in height, it seems."
I didn't even spare him a glance. Instead, I patiently waited for them to board.
They all looked at me like I was a piece of meat on display, some even seemed to be wagering how long I was going to last. It was all sick.
How can so many men at once be this evil?
"Listen up," the man with the roman-like breastplate continued, unbothered by my silence. "I want these fools taken alive. They're less valuable if they get beaten up too badly so just be careful."
So, he was their leader. And he wanted to sell us.
But just as the pirates geared up to board our ship, two already starting to cross, a piercing yell shattered the tense atmosphere. We all looked up to witness a pirate from the other ship, the berserker, hurtling through the air and crashing onto the boarding plank, snapping it in two and falling into the waters below along with the two men who were trying to cross.
In a breathtaking spectacle, Thors also soared through the air in the wake of the berserk pirate, captivating the gaze of all present, including the pirates themselves. As he gracefully landed on our ship near me, his pristine appearance caught my eye—unscathed and unruffled, without a hint of exertion flushing his cheeks, either.
He was so cool! I couldn't help but smile and lower my sword to my side, relieved to see him at our side again.
"Lisen!" Began Thors, his tone commanding. "You've already lost half of your forces so far. Leave now and I will spare your lives."
Wow, Thors was so cool!
As the pirates fished their berserker pirate from the waters, Thors pressed on with his address, "Pirates, take your leave. None of you here can defeat me."
Damn, he was so cool.
Thors glanced at me, then at Ari and Thorfinn who still stood near Leif's boat next to the docking plank, his eyes contemplative. His eyes, initially pensive, swiftly honed in on the pirates with a steely intensity, and he began…
Was he smelling the air?
He suddenly unsheathed his sword and pointed it at the blonde man with the roman-like breastplate. "You must be the one in charge. In the name of the almighty Odin, I challenge you to a duel."
Yes! This could work! If Thors emerged victorious in this duel, perhaps we could escape this ordeal unharmed.
However, the outcome hinged on the extent of their leader's reverence for Odin. Did he cower before the gods, or...
The expression on the pirate leader's face contorted, revealing a hint of discomfort at being singled out so effortlessly. Reflecting on it, I realized his meticulous grooming and the conspicuous Romanesque breastplate did set him apart from the rest of the crew. It was almost inevitable that he would be perceived as the leader. What did he expect?
"If you win, you can have whatever you want," Thors continued, "If I win you and your men withdraw immediately. If you choose to decline, then you'll be losing at least three times as many men only to gain thirteen slaves as your prize."
"Twelve, technically. I'm not letting them take me alive," I murmured under my breath, but Thors made no indication he heard me.
The leader's once unsettling smirk had vanished following Thors' confrontation. Gazing down at the fallen berserker pirate, undoubtedly one of his most formidable fighters, he pondered his next move. Finally, he addressed the situation with a question, "Can I ask you a question? What makes you think that I'm their leader?"
"I smell it."
Was that the reason behind his earlier sniffing, perhaps? Was he attempting to track down their leader through scent? Curiosity piqued, I followed suit, inhaling the air around me—only to be reminded by the presence of my face mask.
It's likely Thors probably detected something. With the leaders well-maintained beard and attire, he probably exuded a far more pleasant aroma compared to his men, who likely neglected their Saturday bathing rituals with religious fervor.
Randomly, the leader laughed. "That's quite impressive. All right," he declared, advancing with a deliberate step forward, hands elegantly concealed behind his back. "Then I'll accept the duel. Askeladd, son of Olaf," he announced, strolling leisurely across the deck of his boat, his gestures as casual as if engaged in idle banter. "Swears to you in the name of Odin."
That way he said Odin…shit…
"I'll need you to join Ari and Thorfinn," Thors said to me, tilting his head to look at me.
"He's lying," I told Thors quickly as their leader, Askeladd, vaulted onto our boat, opposite from Thors. I kept my voice low, but I didn't doubt Askeladd heard me, especially as he made eye contact with me as soon as he settled down. I made sure my voice sounded husky, hopefully concealing the fact I was a woman. "His oath to Odin is false, and this 'duel' likely holds a different meaning for him."
Askeladd's narrowed gaze confirmed he had caught every syllable. Why did I sense deceit? It was in the casual manner he invoked Odin's name, as if sharing a private jest. That alone fueled my suspicion. Yet, articulating this to Thors proved impossible.
Retreating cautiously back to where Ari and Thorfinn stood, I maintained my dialogue. "And don't discount the possibility of a sneak attack. He strikes me as someone who doesn't adhere to fair play. Those eyes of his betray his shrewdness. An asshole through and through."
Thors remained silent, leaving me to wonder if I had once more crossed a line as I retreated to the stern of the ship, joining Ari and Thorfinn.
Ari suddenly leaned into me when I stood next to him. "How did you not shit yourself earlier?" he whispered, covering his mouth as he did so.
Turning to face him, I replied, "Who said that I didn't?" When he gave me an inquisitive look, I tried to smile with my eyes. Hoping to set his nerves at ease.
Honestly, I didn't know what overcame me to face them off like that. It wasn't like me.
Askeladd drew his sword from his hip. "I as well could smell the scent resonating off of you." He let his sword fall on his shoulder. "The same sorta scent as mine."
Did that mean we all stunk?
"Expected of The Troll of Jom," Askeladd finished.
Damn. Askeladd's familiarity with Thors struck me. Why should it be surprising? Why should it matter? Why would an ordinary pirate be acquainted with Thors? Unless... unless he wasn't just any pirate. Unless he was hired by someone…
"Floki sent you," Thors declared, echoing my own realization. So, the same man who had sought Thors out in Iceland and insisted he come to Jomsborg had also orchestrated this attack. That conniving bastard. But had Thors ever been given a genuine choice about coming to Jomsborg in the first place?
Or was it all a lie?
"Heh. You're a sharp one, aren't you. It's a rare treat to meet a smart man," Askeladd said, mimicking a finger gun aimed at Thors.
Suddenly, Thorfinn materialized in front of Thors, prompting me to smack my palm against my forehead in disbelief. Pointing his own finger accusingly, he shouted at Askeladd, "Father is a better man than some dirty, stinky pirate like you!"
I could hear the gasps around me, even Thors looked alarmed. "Hey, stand back-"
"And he's really powerful, too! He can take down bad guys without even breaking a sweat. Understand!" Thorfinn continued, not hearing his father.
Taking charge, I walked forward and swiftly seized Thorfinn, delivering a sharp chop to the crown of his head before yanking him back by the collar. "You idiot," I admonished, dragging his squirming form away.
Askeladd merely chuckled, casually bouncing his sword on his shoulder. Wasn't he concerned about accidentally nicking himself? "He's a chirpy little brat. Is he your son?"
"Askeladd do you have a wife or children?" Thors suddenly asked.
Askeladd's brow lowered, but he still had that smirk on his face. "I don't."
"Very well." Thors said, closing his eyes. Then, they shot open with a steely, resolved gaze. "Let's begin."
In an instant, Thors began a deliberate advance toward Askeladd, each step purposeful, his sword clenched firmly by his side. His posture was poised, a subtle crouch suggesting readiness to strike at a moment's notice. I could only pray that Thors heeded my earlier words of caution.
Askeladd observed Thors intently for a moment, then a glint flickered in his eyes, signaling a sudden plan. "He's about to-!"
Before I could utter a word of caution, Askeladd's blade darted upward, slicing through the rope tethered to the mast beside him, sending the sail crashing down. In a blur of motion, he vanished from sight. Too swift for my eyes to track, he suddenly reemerged beneath the descending canvas, deftly evading its descent. With a single fluid motion, he lunged forward, cleaving into Thors with a powerful swing of his sword.
Blood sprayed, yet the astonishment etched on Askeladd's face hinted that it wasn't a fatal strike.
Despite the copious bloodshed, I lacked the expertise to discern the severity of Thors' wound. My combat experience being limited to training exercises, but hoped that slash didn't go too deeply to cause Thors too much pain…
Thors retaliated with a swift kick, but Askeladd evaded it with a timely leap backward, seamlessly returning to his previous position.
However, it was evident that Askeladd was gasping for breath. He had exerted himself fully in that surprise assault. That, at least, offered a glimmer of hope.
Thors head turned slightly toward us, then he said to me, "Thank you for the warning. I wouldn't have taken a step back if it wasn't for your scrutiny."
Grinning beneath my mask, I refrained from speaking and instead offered a thumbs-up, hoping he interpreted the gesture.
However, Askeladd's gaze speared onto my position, and in a moment of impulse, I acted, instantly regretting what I did next.
I flipped him off.
Once more, his gaze narrowed, prompting me to quickly retract my hand to my side. He likely didn't grasp the meaning behind the gesture. Hopefully…
I probably shouldn't piss off the leader of a very large pirate raiding party.
Thors examined the blood on his hand, then he looked back up at the pirate leader. "Sorry, Askeladd. I can't hold back," Thors declared, his tone solemn yet tinged with resignation, as if the notion of not being given the option to withhold himself pained him deeply.
And Askeladd only smiled at him, but there was a notable tension about his face. "I'm happy to hear that Thors. Believe me."
Thors surged forward, catching Askeladd off guard. Askeladd's smirk vanished, replaced by a steely resolve as he braced for the impact. Thors' initial blow struck with such force that it seemed to momentarily numb Askeladd's arm as he reeled back from the impact, a testament to the strength behind the swing. As Thors pressed on with relentless attacks, Askeladd found himself thrust into a defensive stance, using his arm to bolster his sword against each oncoming strike. The clash of steel reverberated through the air as their weapons clashed and clashed again.
With a mighty swing, Askeladd was sent hurtling backward, leaving him no recourse but to execute a swift backflip. As he landed on the deck with one hand, buying precious moments, Thors descended upon him with a relentless strike. Yet, displaying the agility of a cunning serpent, Askeladd narrowly evaded the blow at the last moment, causing Thors' sword to crash into the deck, splintering the wood beneath.
He broke the wood. What monster strength!
Before Askeladd could regain his footing, Thors closed the distance in an instant, his sword descending upon Askeladd's crouched figure. With no other option, Askeladd toppled backward, leveraging his sword as a makeshift shield, clasping it with both hands to deflect Thors' powerful strike.
A palpable shift swept through the air, evident in the dismay etched across Askeladd's men's faces as they witnessed their leader faltering, outmatched by Thors' raw power. Meanwhile, the rest of us on the sidelines rallied behind Thors, our cheers punctuating the intensity of the duel.
I pondered whether Askeladd's men had ever witnessed their leader in such a precarious position. It must have been a jarring sight for them. Yet, I couldn't muster any sympathy for their plight.
With every strike Thors unleashed, Askeladd found himself on the defensive. While Askeladd managed to muster a few counterattacks, they paled in comparison to the relentless assault delivered by Thors.
In a peculiar way, it possessed a certain beauty. Thors moved with a grace that resembled a well-choreographed dance, the steps of a seasoned warrior.
Yet, once more, a glint sparked in Askeladd's eyes, signaling another calculated move. Despite my awareness, I remained powerless to intervene.
In an instant, Askeladd shattered Thors' sword, reducing it to splinters near the hilt, leaving me gasping and tensing involuntarily at the sight. Askeladd, the smug asshole, merely smirked, then with a sweeping motion, he brought his sword down in a long, arcing swing, aiming to inflict significant damage with that single blow.
Unfazed by the dire situation, Thors swiftly countered, knuckling Askeladd's elbow mid-swing, compelling him to release his sword and possibly fracturing his elbow in the process if fortune favored us. With precision, Thors kicked Askeladd's plummeting weapon up, seizing it in one fluid motion, then swiftly raised it toward Askeladd's neck, effectively concluding the duel.
Thors held Askeladd's own blade at his throat, a stunning reversal of fortune that left Askeladd staring in disbelief at the imminent strike from his own weapon. It was a sight to behold.
Amidst the celebration from our side, I opted to show my approval with enthusiastic applause, refraining from shouting in case my attempt at maintaining a husky tone faltered under the excitement.
Yet, Thors remained steadfast, the sword held steady at Askeladd's neck, unmoving.
"Why are you waiting?" Askeladd voiced what I was just thinking, irking me that we had the same train of thought. "You should kill me."
"There's no need for me to do that. Just say you surrender and leave."
"You do know I'm their leader," Askeladd said, gesturing with his sword arm towards his men behind him. Damn, Thors hadn't broken his arm after all. "That's one thing I can't say in front of my men."
Thors and Askeladd locked eyes. Thors appeared contemplative, while Askeladd's gaze probed, as if delving into Thors' soul.
That…wasn't good.
"What's the matter?" Askeladd taunted. "Do it already. The only way this duel could end is if one of us dies." His words dripped with cunning, as if he were deliberately goading Thors.
It was as if he already anticipated that Thors wouldn't deal the fatal blow.
Thors' gaze flickered with uncertainty, succumbing to Askeladd's subtle manipulation.
"Accept it. I am the victor of this duel. Withdraw your troops, now," Thors commanded again, reminding Askeladd of their initial agreement.
Askeladd's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "You're really as strong as they say. In fact you'd make one hell of an army general." Thors' gaze flickered imperceptibly as he absorbed Askeladd's words, prompting my own curiosity about the purpose behind Askeladd's observation. "But it makes me wonder, why a warrior so mighty would want to hide away in Iceland? Sounds like a waste of your talents to me."
Why was he prodding in this way?
"Not at all," Thors confessed, sounding genuine. Askeladd's eyes narrowed, but not in a heated way. Thors eyes drifted to his sword. "The reason why I rely on a weapon like this is because I'm weak. One who's a great warrior doesn't need a sword."
A slightest of a transformation swept across Askeladd's countenance, compelling me to scrutinize every minuscule movement he made. It was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing a raw vulnerability beneath his facade. Thors' words seemed to rattled him, triggering a profound realization that had long been buried within him, now struggling to surface after years of suppression.
To the untrained eye, the shift in Askeladd might have gone unnoticed, but I caught every nuance of it.
Thors saw it, too.
Askeladd's tone shifted, carrying a rare sense of authenticity and gravity as he uttered, "I need to ask you something," It was the first time his demeanor had felt genuine since their encounter began. "So you want to become our leader, Thors?"
Thors' expression subtly altered, indicating a grasp of Askeladd's underlying inquiry.
I didn't understand.
Even his men seemed flabbergasted, staring at him like he lost his mind.
And he may as well had, because what Askeladd was asking him…Askeladd the pirate leader…
But Thors remained silent. Words were unnecessary; the refusal was evident in his gaze.
His answer was clear: no. Or maybe it was more like he couldn't.
Askeladd seemed to understand this, looking down in disappointment, and what looked like a hint of dismay. Why did he want Thors to lead them? To what purpose?
I would ask what was he playing at, but Askeladd wasn't playing at anything. He genuinely, sincerely asked the question.
He was…complicated…
In an instant, a nonchalant annoying smirk crept across his features. "Nah, I'm just kidding. Come on, nobody's laughing. That was supposed to be funny, you know?"
His men didn't seem to get it.
Neither did I, for the most part.
"What the hell is he playing at?" Ari asked, not seeing what had transpired between Thors and Askeladd.
"Now, or before?" I asked, even though I knew he wouldn't understand.
"What does that even mean, all of it, of course!"
"He wasn't playing before. He is now, though."
"I still don't get it!"
"Then don't worry about it. He's a pirate, what is there to think about?"
Then suddenly…
"...especially with a straight face!" boomed a voice. To our left, a pirate was leaping over to our boat, toward us. And it was none other than the berserker pirate.
How did he regain consciousness so quickly! That throw should have had him under for at least the entire day!
As soon as he touched down, his gaze locked onto Thorfinn's, and I instinctively lunged towards Thorfinn, ready to propel him towards Leif's boat. But the pirate was quicker than I, delivering a solid blow to my chest with his fist, expelling the air from my lungs and sending me stumbling back onto Ari.
We collapsed in a tangle, my chest constricted as I gasped for breath. Hastily, I extracted myself from Ari, scrambling to my feet. Yet, before I could fully regain my balance, the berserker pirate had seized Thorfinn, his knife - Thors shortsword - pressed menacingly against Thorfinn's throat, his fingers grasping Thorfinn's hair to restrain him propelling his back to rest on his knee at an odd angle.
"All of you cowards stay back! I'll cut his head off in one stroke," he bellowed, his gaze darting between us before fixing on Thors. "You! Lose the sword! Hurry the hell up!"
I aimed my sword at him, yet remained rooted in place, my heart pounding, chest aching, though I pushed away the discomfort. But Thorfinn…I allowed him to be captured.
I was the who let him stay on the ship, let him come along on this dawned voyage.
There was a blade at his throat…
Was he going to die…?
Was I going to let him die…?
This was all my fault.
My fault.
And that berserkers fault.
Who the hell did he think he was taking a child hostage to win a duel!
Thorfinn didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this!
He was just a kid…
With a blade to his throat. A blade I allowed to happen.
My fault…
"And you are calling us a coward?" My voice quivered, barely a whisper.
Did I say that out loud?
Did I care?
"What was that?" the berserker pirate turned toward me, his hate filled eyes boring into mine.
"If you…" I lost my voice. This couldn't be happening. If anything happened to Thorfinn, it would be all my fault… "If you hurt him…"
He only smiled cruelly at me. "You'll do what? Cut me? Doubt you could even achieve that, little boy."
I needed to calm down. Calm my nerves. Go numb. If I didn't, I would lose my wit.
Make mistakes.
I couldn't afford to make mistakes. Not now.
And so, I succumbed to the numbing embrace of foolishness. It enveloped me effortlessly, a familiar companion from a lifetime ago, its grip unyielding and all too comforting.
The pirate's grin faded into a grimace, his eyes piercing into mine, sensing whatever I was allowing to overcome me. My gaze remained fixated on him, oblivious to the world around me, fixated only on the pirate and the glint of the blade threatening Thorfinn's life.
"I'll gut you like a pig if you hurt him," I said with icy calm.
This time, he didn't smile, replaced by a begrudging acknowledgement. "I'd like to see you try it, lad."
"Askeladd, you bastard!" Thors said from where he stood, probably lowering his sword from Askeladd's neck, but I wasn't paying them any attention anymore.
I refused to avert my gaze, unwilling to grant the berserker pirate an opportunity to harm Thorfinn. He met my stare with unwavering intensity, a silent challenge hanging in the air between us.
Then, Askeladd started to laugh. I didn't look at him, too focused on the knife at Thorfinn's throat. "By Odin's beard, are you soft? That boy over there has more grit than you. You actually thought for one minute I'd play by the rules? I just wanted to test your mettle by myself, to see firsthand what all the Troll of Jom fuss was about. It was fun, I'll give you that much."
A heavy footfall echoed, followed by Thors's voice booming, "Askeladd, you've broken the sacred code of the duel. I am the rightful winner of this battle." Thors was now reaching. Threatening. But I knew, and he knew, too, this was over.
We lost.
But even in defeat, I vowed that the pirate who held Thorfinn captive would meet his end alongside me. No matter the cost.
Askeladd hmphed. "The situation is what it is, I've been after your head all along."
"...I know that," Thors confessed.
Then, a splash broke the tension. I longed to glance and investigate, yet dared not divert my gaze from the berserker pirate, who met my stare head-on, his weapon still held at bay. Waiting. Watching. However, Ari's voice filled in the gaps, "Why did he... throw his sword away?"
I could feel my teeth gritting. What was going to happen next? Should I charge? Should I wait?
What the hell should I do next!
"I'll accept," Askeladd said, giving me a moment to pause and contemplate his words. "The winner of this duel…" Finally, my eyes moved over to where they stood, relieved to see the berserker pirate mirroring my attention. Askeladd, with his eyes closed, continued with his arm raised, and my stomach dropped, "Is Thors the Troll."
Arrows rained down from above, targeting Thors. Tears welled in my eyes as I lunged forward, sword slashing down toward the short sword at Thorfinn's neck.
The clash of metal was drowned out by the sickening thud of arrows piercing Thors body.
My action remained unnoticed as I yanked Thorfinn away from the berserker pirate by his sleeve. Every gaze, including mine, remained fixated on Thors as arrow after arrow found its mark. Even as we tumbled onto the wooden planks of the ship in a heap, we couldn't tear our eyes away from the devastating sight.
Thorfinn's cry for his father echoed through the air, a piercing lament in the silence that followed. There, amidst us, Thors stood, a formidable figure marred by the cruel embrace of multiple arrows. None among us could tear our eyes away from the sight, wondering at the resilience that kept him upright despite the mortal wounds he bore. Yet, even as he stood, his strength waned, and the inexorable grip of death tightened its hold upon him.
Thors fixed his gaze upon their leader and spoke with unwavering conviction, "Askeladd, I bested you in our duel. Don't cross the promise of a warrior."
Thors, you idiot.
You beautiful, selfless idiot.
"I wouldn't dare. In the name of Artorius my ancestor, my men will all be withdrawn," Askeladd said, meaning every word of it.
Later, I would unpack what he revealed. But now…
Thors struggled to take in a breath, then he turned toward Leif in agony. "And Leif. I have a favor to ask of you. Please bring my head to Sigvaldi, who's the chieftain of the Jomsvikings," he said through labored breathing. "If he were misled to believe that I disappeared to avoid his summons, the village could suffer for it."
Leif sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face, consumed by anguish. "Even in death you think of others."
Thorfinn abruptly rose from my embrace and dashed towards his father. I yielded, trusting that, if nothing else, Askeladd would honor his vow. Thorfinn crashed into his father's arms, clutching desperately at his garment, his cries of "father" echoing in the air. Thors's gaze met mine, gratitude and exhaustive death mingling in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely, each word a struggle for breath. "For protecting my son."
I stood up, my sword abandoned on the ground. "Of course," I murmured, my voice strained, as I bore witness to Thors's gradual departure from this world. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, yet I held them back, refusing to succumb to the flood of emotion.
Thors's gaze shifted to his son, a smile gracing his lips. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, he tenderly rested his palm upon Thorfinn's head, releasing a final sigh of breath. "I'm glad you were here to say goodbye."
And then…he died.
Suddenly, Ari charged forward toward Askeladd, his sword drawn. Quickly, I stepped in front of him and elbowed him in the face, and he fell to the ground. "You idiot!" I yelled down at the fallen Ari, my hands clenched at my sides. "Don't you dare make Thors death go to waste!"
"Fucking idiot," Askeladd remarked, his gaze piercing as he looked down upon Ari, arms folded in disdain. "Be thankful that Thors fought for you because the death of a man like that is worth a hundred young fools."
Ari clenched his now bleeding nose, but made no move to charge at Askeladd again. Tears running down his face.
With a heavy heart, I turned my gaze towards Thorfinn, who remained at Thors's feet, his tears flowing unabated. It was then that I observed Thors's body beginning to sway precariously. Acting swiftly, I rushed to Thors's side and intercepted his fall before it could endanger Thorfinn.
His weight was formidable, almost overwhelming, but I managed to lower him gently onto his back, the pressure causing the arrows embedded in his back to snap as he lay flat.
"Father… Father!" Thorfinn's anguished cry pierced the air, his grip on Thors unyielding. Placing my hand gently upon his head, I exchanged a solemn glance with Leif, tears tracing silent paths down his cheeks.
With a resolute nod, Leif addressed his comrades, his voice steadying despite the tremor of grief. "Let us retrieve Thors," he declared, brushing away his tears with the back of his sleeve. "And bring him to Jomsborg."
Behind me, the sound of Askeladd's retreat echoed as he leaped back to his ship, abandoning us to tend to Thors. Yet, my attention remained steadfastly fixed on Thors's motionless face.
I had encountered death before, but never had it claimed someone I considered a friend, someone whose presence mattered deeply to me. And of all the individuals I never imagined witnessing meet an untimely end, Thors was at the forefront of that list.
Why did it have to be Thors?
And Thorfinn…he saw it all.
His trauma was entirely on me.
As Leif and the others assisted in transferring Thors's body onto Leif's boat, Thorfinn, still crying, dashed down into the cargo hold, and I trailed after him, unwilling to leave him to his solitude.
Upon catching sight of me, his features twisted with rage. "Leave me be! I want to be alone!"
I remained silent, closing the distance between us within the confines of the cargo hold.
"I said leave me-!"
I reached out and enveloped him in my embrace, feeling his resistance as he struggled against my hold. Yet, I held on steadfastly, refusing to let him slip away. With each ounce of resistance, I tightened my grip, until at last, he yielded, his small hands gripping onto me with a fierce intensity that bordered on pain. But I made no move to remove him; instead, I allowed him to hold onto me, to seek solace in the embrace that promised safety and security. And there, in that moment, I refused to release him, offering the silent reassurance of my unwavering presence. It was the least I could do, because his trauma was my doing.
I didn't know how long we held one another, but when I felt the boat moving, I reluctantly disengaged and steadied myself by grasping Thorfinn's shoulders. "Thorfinn, we should probably go speak to Leif. Know what our next move is."
Additionally, I couldn't help but marvel at the brisk pace of our journey, prompting me to inquire about the mechanics behind our unexpected speed, especially considering Thors'...
I didn't want to think about it anymore.
"I don't care!" He gripped me tightly. "I don't care!"
With a gentle nudge to his shoulder, he swiftly slipped from my embrace, darting across the cargo hold. Nestled in a secluded nook, he curled into himself, his tears once again streaming freely.
Exhaling a weary sigh, I rose to my feet, brushing the dust from my knees. Uncertain of the right words to console him, my thoughts turned to Leif. It seemed unlikely that he would venture to Jomsborg with the boys in tow, indicating a probable return journey to Iceland to safely deliver them home.
If such was the plan, I had to ensure he understood that I wasn't among those being left behind.
Walking up the stairs, I looked ahead when my head popped up onto the deck, and instantly ducked back down.
What. The actual. FUCK!
It wasn't Leif boat who was pulling us.
Far from it!
No, it was the two pirate boats pulling us instead!
Leif and the rest of them abandoned Thors boat!
Abandoned Thors boat and didn't do a fucking head count before leaving the boat behind!
How was that even possible? Didn't I make a big enough presence that they'd notice I wasn't on board? That Thorfinn wasn't on board?
Leif, you bastard!
It seemed like we were already out to sea. How was that even possible? How long had Thorfinn and I been holed up in the cargo hold? Could it really have been enough time for the pirates to loop back to the Faroe Islands and circle around the fjord so quickly?
Descending back into the cargo hold, I hunched down to accommodate the limited space, inching closer to Thorfinn. The weight of my decision pressed heavily upon me. Should I divulge the truth to Thorfinn? In reality, I had little say in the matter.
"Thorfinn," I began tentatively, only to be interrupted by a faint sound emanating from him, different from the sound of tears.
He had dozed off. After all the chaos, the tears, the whirlwind of emotions, it wasn't surprising. He was just a kid, still figuring out how to navigate his feelings. And in the blink of an eye, he'd lost a big part of his world.
I decided against disturbing his slumber, not just yet. I resolved to let him rest, knowing I would have to break the news once he awoke.
With hardly any hope in sight, I clung to the possibility of luck being on our side. Perhaps the pirates wouldn't immediately plunder the boat upon reaching their destination. Maybe, amidst their distractions at the next port, we could seize an opportunity to flee.
For now, all we could do was wait patiently, biding our time until the right moment presented itself.
As I sat, grappling with the horrors of the day, I sought solace in distracting myself with thoughts of food and spices, but my attempt proved futile as fatigue crept in, lulling me into slumber.
It was the piercing shriek of Thorfinn that jolted me awake.
A scream of pure, unadulterated rage.
I jolted to my feet and looked around, but he wasn't in the cargo bay.
He was on deck.
Filled with apprehension, I dashed towards the stairs, cautiously peering over the edge. To my dismay, Thorfinn loomed at the bow of the boat, brandishing his father's shortsword tightly in hand, his piercing screams echoing relentlessly into the sea.
A scream so gruesome, so full of hate, all I could do was watch.
I'd never heard someone scream like that before, not even from an adult.
And when he collapsed onto the deck, I finally came to my senses.
"Thorfinn," I called, hoping to get his attention.
It appeared that the pirates had become aware of Thorfinn's presence aboard the ship. Regrettably, there was little I could do to alter that outcome.
Once more, I found myself falling short in my duties to Thorfinn. If only I hadn't fallen asleep…
Ever so slowly, he turned and looked at me, and the look he gave me sent a chill down my spine.
There was so much hate in that look.
"Thorfinn," I whispered, my voice trembling with desperation as I extended my hand towards him, pleading for his return. "Come back to me," I implored, the weight of my emotions spilling out in the desperate plea that followed, "please."
With evident reluctance and a glacial pace, he rose from his seat, joining me in the cargo bay. Collapsing to his knees at the foot of the stairs, his countenance remained fixed in a mask of pure, unbridled hatred, emanating from every pore without falter.
I wanted to call him out, but it felt pointless. At that moment, I doubted my words would even register with him.
"Thorfinn, at the next stop we're going to make a run for-"
"I'm not running," he cut me off.
I tsked and said again, "Yes we are."
"You can run if you want," he then turned those heated eyes back on me. "But I'm not running. I'm going to kill him."
My gaze narrowed in response. "Kill who?"
"The one who killed father!" he spat out, his voice full of furry. "That dirty pirate! He'll pay for what he did! I swear it!" His words were laced with determination as he clenched his teeth with resolve.
Damn, there was so much hatred packed within his little body.
"And how exactly are you going to do that? You're just a little boy!"
"And you're just a girl! You don't understand what I'm going through?! How could you!?" And with that, he ran to the end of the boat, leaving me alone.
All I could do was sigh. Maybe I didn't understand, but I knew seeking revenge wasn't something Thors would want. But I also knew trying to talk about it further to him would only piss him off more.
Why was I stuck with babysitting duties?
If only I told someone he was on the ship when we first took off…
Later, when he calmed down, I would try and reach out to him again. Try to make him see reason. We could still sneak away despite the pirates knowing he was on this ship. I still had my poncho, and they didn't know I was here, too.
And if he still refuses, I'd force him to see reason.
Askeladd
The vessel danced gracefully upon the undulating currents of the boundless sea, its course set for a destination three days distant. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a veil of dusky hues across the waters, a gentle mist cloaked Askeladd's fleet. Amidst this ethereal scene, his crew reveled in their nocturnal adventure, their laughter echoing into the obsidian expanse, heedless of their captain's concealed unrest.
Thors briefly occupied the forefront of his mind, yet a hearty yawn from Askeladd swiftly banished any lingering thoughts. There was no use dwelling on such matters, especially when they served no purpose.
Then there was the boy.
There seemed little recourse for his fate. If he perished, so be it. Askeladd harbored no concern for him either way.
Besides, he hated kids.
"Ah, I see you're still up," Ear, a mousey looking man with a pinched face and small narrow eyes, settled in where Askeladd laid on the boat, covered neck to foot in a blanket.
"Anything to report?" Askeladd asked, wondering if he ever was going to get any sleep that night. But when Ear approached him, it was usually for a good reason. He trained him well in that regard.
"The boy isn't alone. There's another one with him."
That annoyed Askeladd. "One of the boys I take it?"
"No…" Ear's paused. "A girl."
Askeladd's gaze shifted sharply towards Ear, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features. "Eh? I didn't see no girl…" Then it struck him. The short lad with the cloak! The one who had the stones to square up to Bjorn, like he had a snowball's chance in hell against him.
The one who had him figured out from the start.
Askeladd let out a bark of a laugh. What were the odds? Just wait 'til Bjorn caught wind of this. It would surely piss him right off.
"What do you want to do, boss?"
It didn't take long for Askeladd to come up with something. A wretched smile blooming on his face. "We'll leave it to the men to sort out. If there's a scarcity of women at our next stop, when she makes a dash for it, we'll let those hungry for the chase have their fun. She ought to resist just enough to entertain my men."