I lost the dumb fucking kid again.

Thorfinn's aptitude for stealth must be unparalleled, for upon awakening after our three-day voyage, he had vanished without me noticing - again. It baffled me why he believed he could venture out alone. After all, the boy couldn't even manage the basic tasks of feeding himself or retrieving water from our provisions, claiming he didn't know where they were.

The most frustrating part was that we were docked on land, a fact that had completely escaped my notice. I must be a damn deep sleeper.

This wasn't good. Thorfinn could be anywhere. Or somewhere in need of help… I didn't doubt he followed the band of pirates to wherever they went, that much I could go on. I only hoped he wasn't trying to pick a fight with their leader Askeladd. If he did, would Askeladd kill him on the spot?

Something told me he wouldn't, but I couldn't be too sure. He was a pirate. Pillaging, raping, and killing was taught to them at a very young age, enforcing that nature within them.

I had to go find Thorfinn…

I cautiously peeked out from the cargo hold and spotted a guy keeping watch near the boat's edge. He was sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree that was facing the boats. Quickly pulling back, I hid from his view before he could catch sight of me as his head suddenly swiveled in my direction, ducking at just the nick of time.

The situation was far from ideal. They remained unaware of my presence, a fact I intended to keep under wraps for the foreseeable future. However, locating Thorfinn was paramount. He was my responsibility, and the thought of anything bad happening to him spurred me into action.

I didn't want to think about what could happen to him…

But first, I needed to get off this boat unnoticed and pondering on what-ifs wasn't going to get me anywhere. I had to keep moving.

Stepping back into the cargo bay, I eyed the barrel holding my gear, clear on what needed to be done. Making my way to it, I popped off the lid and sifted through its contents. There, I snagged my leafy poncho and a matching hat crafted from a farmer's straw hat.

Trading my cloak and mask for my poncho and straw hat that had foliage sewn all throughout the top to match my poncho, which boasted a turtle neck I had crafted to cover up to my nose, I rolled up the brown cloak and mask I had on, as well as my boots as I wanted to go barefoot to keep my noise level down, and stowed them in a spacious back pocket I had sewn into the many layers of my warm poncho. Thankfully, the gambeson I was wearing was a dark green, along with my pants. Returning to the entrance of the cargo bay, I cautiously poked my head out, wishing I had a mirror, even a compact mirror, to gauge where exactly the watcher's gaze was directed instead of poking my head out and possibly getting spotted right off the bat. When I assured that his attention was elsewhere, I slipped out of the cargo bay, maintaining a low profile on the deck as I moved across it and out into the woods.

As I ventured deeper into the woods, a sigh of relief escaped me, and my gaze fell upon the earth below once I hit a clearing. There, scattered across the ground, were sizable human footprints, clearly marking a path. Their direction was unmistakable; there was no attempt at being subtle about where they were headed. It was understandable, really. Concealing a group of over fifty who only trained in the art of pirating was no small feat.

So, I headed in that direction too.

It didn't take much effort to track down the band of pirates, a cacophony of screams acting as a damning trail.

As I stepped through the final lining of trees, I found myself in the heart of their chaos. The scene before didn't surprise me. What they were committing wasn't something I wasn't aware they were capable of perpetrating. But the comprehension did nothing to dull the sharp edges of cruelty and horror that pierced through me, leaving me suffocating in a world devoid of mercy.

Death's icy grip had descended upon an unfortunate village, and the pirates reveled in every drop of agony it offered. Their twisted delight was palpable, etched upon their faces like a macabre mask as they unleashed their savage weapons upon the defenseless. Blood painted the scene, a grotesque canvas of violence staining everything it touched - air, earth, homes, and the very souls of the murderers themselves. Echoes of anguish reverberated from all corners, a symphony of despair that pierced the night, leaving me paralyzed, powerless to halt the carnage or to offer any semblance of aid.

And they all reveled in it. Laughing, playing, dancing in their twisted, violent way.

Was there truly anything I could do as I stood frozen to the earth, or was I just a coward? A selfish coward?

"I think I see someone over there!" I heard someone call from within the carnage and death. Startled, I swiftly sought refuge behind the nearest tree. Crouching low, I relied on my bush poncho to conceal me, its draping fabric enveloping my form and extending to the earth below. I clasped my arms around my knees, molding them into a more rounded silhouette, and waited.

Within moments, the rhythmic cadence of footsteps reverberated in my vicinity, sending a shiver down my spine that demanded considerable effort to quell. Peering cautiously through the leaves that dropped down from my hat, I discerned the silhouette of two figures steadily advancing toward my concealed position.

"I could have sworn there was someone here," one of them said, his voice now mere inches from where I was crouched, where I blended into the foliage around me. Thankfully there were still leaves and greenery around.

"Damn it, Audor," the other muttered, his frustration heard clearly. "I don't see a fucking soul." Then the sound of footsteps gradually faded away from my concealed position. "I better not miss out on the fun because you're chasing shadows!"

At least my disguised work on these murderers.

As they dove back into the chaos, I cautiously lifted my gaze, desperately hoping that Thorfinn hadn't been caught up in the mayhem, spared from any harm simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Thorfinn, you idiot…

Where the hell were you?

As I prowled around the outskirts of the village, hunting for Thorfinn amidst the pandemonium, I shut out the agonized wails and desperate pleas of the people being massacred around me. The task was excruciatingly challenging, nearly unbearable.

Every fiber of my being screamed to flee. To help. To do something.

All I yearned for was a secluded refuge where I could unleash my pent-up anguish until my tears ran dry.

My chest constricted with a relentless ache and I silently wondered if I myself was going to die, or perhaps it was simply the lingering pain from that brutal blow struck by that pirate when Thorfinn was captured three days ago.

I needed to find Thorfinn…

With heavy steps, I traced the perimeter of the village, witnessing the agony of those dying without mercy, watching for anyone that even resembled Thorfinn.

Just a small child running - being alive. Anything!

As dusk draped its veil over the horizon, flames erupted, casting an infernal glow upon the village. It was as if Hell itself had unfurled its jaws before me.

In that moment, it wasn't just a village; it was a manifestation of humanity's darkest impulses— a vile amalgamation of wickedness and avarice.

And amidst the flames and destruction, I caught sight of Askeladd, ordering the ruthless slaughter of the villagers. None were to survive.

But…I didn't see Thorfinn with him.

Maybe he wasn't here after all.

Then where the hell was he?

Did he run off without me?

No. Thorfinn wouldn't abandon me like that. If he had chosen to flee, he wouldn't have deserted me and left me to fend for myself.

I remained rooted to the spot, huddled near a distant tree on the opposite side of the village from where I started, my gaze fixed on the infernal glow painting the sky crimson. The agonized cries of those condemned to perish gradually ebbed into the abyss of the night, leaving behind a suffocating silence.

I only hoped Thorfinn wasn't witnessing this Hell.

I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Throughout the night I changed positions through the lining of the forest, even venturing outside of the village where I found a stream. But still no Thorfinn.

It wasn't until I heard an unusual commotion coming from the village did I go back to investigate. But upon my return, I couldn't see what was going on. The pirates had formed a circle around whatever was drawing their eyes. Their excitement. Was it a villager finally standing up to them, one that had stayed hidden until now?

I strolled amidst the nearby trees, scouting for one with sturdy branches suitable for climbing. After some searching, I discovered a promising candidate. With cautious movements, I ascended the tree, gradually gaining elevation until I reached a vantage point from which I could observe the unfolding events below.

And froze.

Thorfinn…it was Thorfinn!

And he was charging at Askeladd with a sword that was as big as he was! The dumbass! Askeladd nonchalantly sidestepped Thorfinn's clumsy charge, his boredom palpable. As Thorfinn stumbled past, his massive sword, burdened by its weight, plunged into the wooden floorboards below, the tip sticking into it good. Thorfinn, struggling to free his weapon, realized he was no match for the stubborn hold of the wood. Too weak to pull it free.

And the idiot had his back to Askeladd.

The men chuckled at Thorfinn's plight, while Askeladd sauntered over, saying something to Thorfinn, but I was too far away to hear. Then, with a swift kick to Thorfinn's midsection, Askeladd sent him sprawling to the side, the moment stretching out like a scene from a movie—or perhaps it was just my adrenaline, heightening every detail to slow-motion.

Then, Askeladd walked away.

Thorfinn lay motionless on the ground, knocked unconscious. Surprisingly, the other men ignored him as well, going back to what they were previously doing. Did they mistake him for dead? No, he wasn't dead. Even from my vantage point in the trees, I could discern the subtle rise and fall of his chest, evidence that he was still breathing.

But still.

"That idiot!" I said out loud.

Suddenly, a movement drew my attention—a figure crouched low, hands pressed against his ears, scanning the surroundings. Askeladd approached him, their conversation brief yet intense. Then, in an instant, the hunched man's gaze locked onto mine, his accusing finger jabbing in my direction.

Askeladd's head turned in my direction, and from my distant vantage point, I could make out a broad smirk on his face. His voice, clear even from afar, rang out as he looked to his men and summoned them, "Seems we've got ourselves a visitor, men! Why don't you bring 'em over here? Appears to me like they're too shy to join our fun! Let's fix that, shall we?"

With a swift descent from the tree, I dashed into the cover of the woods, careful to tread lightly and avoid injury on the forest floor as my feet were bare.

How did that other guy hear me? Did he possess supersonic hearing? It seemed likely. Despite my hushed tone, he heard my words clearly. If he could detect my soft voice, he could probably hear my every move as I navigated the forest.

Fortunately, I had the foresight to remove my shoes. The soft padding of my bare feet would, hopefully, muffle the sound of my footsteps, concealing my direction of escape.

All I could do was hope.

Returning to the stream, I carefully waded through its ankle-high waters. Upon reaching the opposite bank, nestled amidst foliage and bushes, I hunkered down, planning to utilize my poncho for camouflage once more.

Now, I needed to calm my breathing. My nerves.

Two men emerged from where I came from. They scanned the surroundings as they reached the stream, their expressions tense. "Where the hell did they go? Are we sure ears heard 'em? I didn't see anyone!" asked the one with black hair.

The other with mousy brown hair replied, "You know damn well Ear's don't miss shit. They're out here, and we're gonna find 'em. There might even be a bonus in it for us."

"I hear ya!"

They laughed without a care in the world as they ran down the stream, completely oblivious to where I sat nestled between two bushes similar in color to my poncho.

Looks like they were not going to get that bonus.

Then I saw the berserker pirate walk out from where I ran, heading straight for the stream. He had on a helmet, one with a nose guard, and when he reached the stream, he looked back and forth…

Then directly in my direction.

In that tense moment, I averted my eyes, willing myself to blend into the scenery, scarcely daring to breathe. With measured steps, he forged through the stream, his trajectory unmistakably aimed in my direction.

I inhaled deeply, willing my racing heart to slow its frantic pace, each breath a desperate attempt to maintain composure.

The sound of his approaching footsteps halted nearby, but I dared not lift my gaze, fixating instead on the worn brown leather of his boots.

In and out, I focused on the rhythm of my breath, each inhalation and exhalation a lifeline. Any slip in my facade, and he would sense my presence, unraveling my precarious concealment. I clung to my resolve, fighting to maintain the fragile facade of calm.

To stay numb.

"Did you spot 'em, Bjorn?" a voice echoed across the stream.

Bjorn, the berserker pirate, hesitated before responding. "Nah. Seems like they gave us the slip," he called back, his voice sounding more bored than disappointed.

He then walked away.

I dared not release the pent-up tension until Bjorn and his companion were out of sight. Only then did I allow myself a quiet exhale, relief flooding through me like a rushing tide.

That was too close for comfort.

It wasn't until evening came that I dared move from my spot, and even then I moved making as little sound as I could in case that guy with supersonic hearing heard me again.

Upon my return to the village, Thorfinn was gone, his absence a relief tinged with concern. At least his absence signaled he was on the move, hopefully unharmed.

Or they…

No. I wasn't going to go there.

My gaze swept over the desolate village one final time, taking in the chilling sight. Most of the pirates had returned, their presence a haunting reminder of the horrors they had wrought. Among them, the one with superhuman hearing mingled casually by a fire while eating porridge with other men, unfazed by the carnage around him.

Meanwhile, the grotesque spectacle of others burying the innocent dead filled the air with mocking laughter, a twisted symphony of heartlessness as they dug out holes just outside the village, the innocent dead piled high.

Silently seething, my features contorted in a mix of disgust and disbelief, but kept my voice silent. They were not men; they were monsters, devoid of empathy or remorse. How could such darkness thrive so brazenly, unchallenged by the faintest whisper of conscience?

I couldn't stomach watching any longer. My objective remained the same: track down Thorfinn and pull him out of this mess. Even if it meant I had to drag him out kicking and screaming.

He would hate me for it, but I rather have him hate me than be dead.

But when I turned to leave, I ran right into something.

No. A someone.

"Ah, there you are," a voice I knew too well said above me, and when I went to turn to my right and run, a hand darted out to seize my shoulder before my mind fully registered the danger. Swift as a shadow, he outpaced my reflexes. His grip yanked me off balance, sending me crashing forward to the ground with a force that stole my breath. Gasping for air, I felt his knee pressing into the small of my back, his words dripping with disdain, "You're a sneaky little bastard, I'll grant you that. But your luck has finally run dry, lad."

The berserker pirate, Bjorn, looked down cruelly at me, his eyes scanning my outfit. Without warning, his fist arced overhead, and dread seized me as it descended with brutal force upon my face.

Agony ripped through me, leaving me gasping for air as I was roughly hoisted upright. Another blow struck me, this time in the gut, doubling me over as I collapsed to my knees, my head meeting the unforgiving ground. Again, I was hauled to my feet and I tried to mentally and physically prepare myself for another assault, but instead my arms were twisted behind my back, and I was marched forward, toward the village.

His hand tightened painfully around my wrists. "Best not be thinking of fleeing, or I'll kill you. Understand?"

I didn't say anything as I was hauled forward, still reeling from the pain. Laughter resonated through the air as I was paraded through the village, my thoughts racing to devise an escape plan. Concealed behind my hat and poncho, I pondered how much longer I had before they discovered I was a girl.

What would I do once they found out? I wanted to kill myself if that were to happen, but Thorfinn…I couldn't leave Thorfinn behind like that.

And if he saw me kill myself, it was another trauma I wasn't going to let him endure. He'd been through enough.

And how I casually thought of ending my own life didn't escape me. But I did live a life before this one and died. Dying by my own hands was a far better fate than being raped by multiple men, days on end, then probably enduring a painful death right after.

With suicide off the table, I needed to come up with something else, and quick.

Different voices rang out, some were taunts, some were mockery, and others asking if they could be the one to kill me. Bjorn ignored them as he marched me forward, and I ignored them too.

In an instant, I found myself thrust onto my knees, my palms instinctively reaching out to the ground to steady myself. And then the voice I dreaded the most to hear said from in front of me, sending shivers down my spine, "I understand now why my men had such trouble finding you. That's quite the cunning disguise you've got on, even if it does look completely ridiculous."

As I eased back onto my heels, our eyes met in an intense gaze. Askeladd perched on a stump, leaning forward, one ankle crossed over his knee, his right arm casually propped up with his chin resting in his palm. With a smug, lecherous smirk playing on his lips, he returned my stare.

Exhaling deeply, I muttered a curse in English under my breath, "Fuck me sideways."