Fljótdís- Daughter of the North

by Sanita Trumpika

  She could hardly believe that two men had taken down a dozen warriors on horseback. But there he was. Erik. One against the King. Fljótdís grabbed the boat’s rail, ready to climb out, but Astrid forced her back. Something hissed past Fljótdís’ ear and she turned to find that the Queen had been struck by an arrow straight into her chest.

  “No,” Fljótdís whispered, catching Astrid before she fell into the water. Astrid was light as a feather as she looked up at her friend.

  “I’m so cold,” the Queen whispered softly.

  “I’ll fetch you a blanket as you did for me, my lady,” Fljótdís replied, knowing it was an empty promise. Here was the coming of death yet again.

  Blood turned Astrid’s pale yellow dress crimson. “It was good... to have...a friend.”

  Fljótdís fought back the tears. “You are a wonderful friend, my lady.”

  Astrid looked concerned. “Where..will...I go now?”

  “The fields of Fólkvangr,” Fljótdís answered without a doubt. “You’ll share a table with great Freyja herself.”

  “But I am...I am not...a...shieldmaiden...”

  “Yes, but you have the heart of a shieldmaiden. That’s all that matters.”

  Astrid smiled and the light in the Queen’s eyes burned out. They stared lifelessly towards the darkening sky. Fljótdís looked back and saw Erik approaching the King at last. But from the forest shadows came ten more men, all with bows in their hands and Erik stopped. Fljótdís prayed to the gods he wouldn’t be so foolish as to run towards such a death.

  Harald raised his hand. “I have another offer for you, Fljótdís.” All ten bows were aimed at Erik, arrows eager to be shot. “I will leave your bastard alive if you give yourself up to me. If not, I will kill him. My bowmen will make short work of him.”

  “Don’t listen to him!” Erik shouted back. “We both know he will kill me anyway.”

  The King climbed down off his horse. “If you come to me without a fight, I will release him as soon as you return to your cell. I give you my word.”

  Fljótdís almost laughed. “Your word, the word of a lying murderer? How can I be sure that you’ll keep your promise?”

  Harald shrugged. “You can’t. But what choice do you have? Make your decision. I’m running out of patience.”

  Chapter 24

  She had no real choices. If she decided to run, all those arrows would strike her anyway. She wouldn’t even make it to the middle of the river. And it would mean not only her death but Erik’s too. But if there was even the slimmest chance that Harald’s offer might save Erik’s life... It was madness to believe King’s promises. He would kill her, sooner or later. But if before that happened she could save the man she loved, it had to be done.

  Amid the pain and dread, she climbed out of the boat. “I accept your offer.”

  “No!” Erik turned toward her and was struck by an arrow in his arm. It wasn’t a deadly wound, but it was a warning.

  “Make him throw down his weapons and surrender,” the King ordered.

  Fljótdís waited till the blackness before her eyes receded a bit and then she met Erik’s gaze. “Erik, please. We cannot win this time.”

  He knew she was right. They couldn’t win. But it was so hard to give up. He felt as if he was betraying her. She was barely staying on her feet. He knew it wouldn’t be long until she lost her strength. And he knew that she would do anything to be sure he was safe. But he didn’t want to be safe. He wanted to save her, to fight for her, to die for her. But right now his death would do nothing. Fljótdís wasn’t capable of defeating ten archers. Nor could he, especially since his right hand was going numb from the pain. If he could stay alive, he could try to save her again. He would find a way to save her.

  Fljótdís gave him a pleading look and he threw down his axe. Two strong men grabbed him and shoved him to his knees.

  She stopped. “You said you would let him go.”

  “When you return to the prison,” Harald reminded her, reaching out his hand. “Now, be a good little whore, throw down your dagger and come to me.”

  It sounded almost like an invitation to share his bed and she did indeed see the lust in his eyes. There in the prison with her in chains, he had had plenty of chances to take her by force. And yet he hadn’t done it. But things were different now.

  Fljótdís threw down the dagger in her right hand and walked slowly toward the King. Her left hand still held a dagger. Harald hadn’t noticed it because she had kept it hidden in the folds of her cloak. If she could get close enough, with one swift move she could cut the King’s throat and the power over these men would be in her hands. They would have to obey her and free Erik. It was a good plan, her only plan to free them. But if she failed, the price would be very high.

  “That’s better.” The King was only two steps away.

  With a quick move, Fljótdís raised her blade, but Harald managed to grab her hand in time. His grip was strong and painful. “Do you think I don’t know your tricks, woman?”

  With each word, his hold became stronger until her hand was numb and the dagger fell to the grass. Her last hope to free Erik and herself was as dead as all the friends she had just lost.

  Harald kicked the blade away and pointed toward the ground. “Now, on your knees.”

  Fljótdís looked into his eyes. Rage burned in her chest. She was a warrior and warriors did not kneel. It was beneath her pride.

  “I said kneel!” Harald lost patience and nodded at the archers. “Kill him.”

  “No!” she shouted and fell to her knees, not so much because of the command, but because of a loss of strength. Harald released her arm and circled around her like a predator around its wounded prey.

  He stopped behind her back. “Finally I have you on your knees in front of me.”

  He grabbed her hands and with the help of one of his belts, he tied them behind her back so tightly it almost crushed her bones. She clenched her teeth but made no sound. It was a humiliation to be on her knees and to be robbed of a chance to fight. Her mind desperately searched for a plan. It couldn’t end this way. She was strong. She was Gunnar’s daughter, a warrior and Commander. She couldn’t lose this battle. Why were the gods not on her side? Maybe they never had been.

  “Let her go, you bastard!” Erik demanded. “Let her go. Kill me, but let her go.”

  Harald regarded Erik with disgust. “You are worth nothing to me. You are just some miserable dog who thinks he deserves to have a woman like Fljótdís. You are not worthy of her little finger.”

  “And you are? Ask yourself, would she love me if you were so worthy to her? You are a coward, a murderer and a traitor. You have no honour. You are not worthy of sharing the same air with her, you son of a whore.”

  Harald gripped his axe, but his face remained calm. “Close his mouth with something. He annoys me.”

  One of the men shoved an old cloth into Erik’s mouth and the King smiled.

  “No more distractions.”

  She gave Harald a glare that caused him to take a cowardly step back. But it didn’t change his look of triumph. It was a look of victory and something else, something that made a chill run down her spine.

  “Now, Fljótdís, I want you to beg me for his life.”

  This was all just another of his sadistic games and Fljótdís spat straight into his face. She received a heavy hit for it but managed to keep her balance and stayed on her knees. Thank the gods he hadn’t managed to break her jaw.

  Harald was behind her back again. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head back. “Beg, bitch, or I will send him to Helheim one arrow at a time.”

  She couldn’t do it. How could she beg? How could she let herself fall so low? But one sideward glance at Erik and she knew this was no time for pride.

  “Please,” she whispered. That single word demanded more strength than any other battle she had ever fought.

  The King released her hair and stopped in front of her. “Please what?
I didn’t hear you.” He looked to his men. “Did you hear what she said?” They shook their heads, many of them looking down at their boots to keep from showing disrespect toward the King over this monstrous scene.

  “See? They didn’t hear.” Another hit sent a shock wave through the side of her face. “Louder!”

  Anger boiled in her blood and she fought to break free from the belt, but the pain was overwhelming. She was sure if she could free herself and grab Harald’s axe, she could kill not only the King but all his men as well. The anger that flew through her veins made her tremble, but it made her feel strong at the same time.

  “Please, let him go,” she said, this time louder. “Please spare his life.”

  Harald smiled and his attention turned to Erik. “How is it to see her on her knees in front of me, begging for your pitiful life?”

  Erik knew that even if he had been able to speak, it only would have amused this bastard.

  Harald grabbed Fljótdís’ by the hair and dragged her till they were only a few steps away from Erik. He threw her to the ground.

  “Maybe I should kill you both in front of each other’s eyes.”

  Fljótdís tried to get up, but Harald’s kick sent her down again. This had gone too far. No one dared to treat her like this. She rolled onto her back and kicked toward the juncture of Harald’s pelvis with all her strength, but at the last moment, he jumped aside and grabbed her leg.

  “You are one quick bitch.” He smiled down at her. “I have always liked that about you. But I think we will slow you down now.”

  His face illuminated with some revelation only his sick mind understood. It lit a flame of madness in his eyes. She knew that flame too well. It was not only madness that ruled his mind now. It was lust, a terrible lust that she had seen from him too many times in the past.

  She shuddered. She had to break free before it happened, before it happened in front of Erik’s eyes. She tried to get up, but the King pushed her down to the ground, forcing apart her legs and taking his place between them so she wouldn’t be able to kick him. She heard Erik’s enraged groans and tries to break free.

  “No!” she cried out. “No...”

  Harald grabbed her throat, leaving her no air. “I think I know what I will do. I will make you scream, just as I made you scream in my furs the last time. Remember? I fucked you so hard your cries of submission to me were heard through the whole camp. Do you remember it, whore? My warriors remember. You are nothing but a joke, a dirty little joke, and everyone knows it.”

  White spots danced before her eyes. Her lungs were desperate for air, but Harald’s grip only tightened.

  “I will fuck you right here in front of your beloved son of a bitch. In front of everyone to prove once and for all that you are nothing but a mewling camp whore who craves the King’s cock inside her like a bitch dog in heat. You will cry out the truth of your mad hunger for me!”

  He leaned down to her ear. “And you won’t resist. You will let me fuck you, or I will cleave your man from his balls to his throat. Slowly. Painfully. Letting you hear his agonising screams.”

  Harald’s other hand grabbed her breast and she pulled in a sharp breath as he released her neck so he could tear her tunic apart. He shouted in triumph when her flesh was exposed to the daylight, exposed to all. He cut her breeches apart and she felt his hand probe and defile. With all her strength, she tried to kick him off, but a cry of pain from Erik made her freeze. There was another arrow in his shoulder now. She met his eyes. They were full of desperation and anger.

  Harald’s merciless cruelty plunged deep into the tender flesh between her legs, and she turned her head away. She didn’t even feel the pain, although the strength of that bastard made her teeth clamp together. He was ripping her apart from within, destroying her body with the brutal force of his demented onslaught, like a battering ram crashing inside her over and over in the hope of crushing her heart. Her hands beneath her didn’t belong to her anymore. They were dead, useless, numb.

  All she wanted was to drift away, to plunge into some calm darkness, forgetting everything that was happening. He wanted her to scream and she knew he wouldn’t stop until she did. If she could somehow switch off her mind, lose consciousness... How long would it last?

  She refused to think of that part of her body that was being violated without mercy now. Instead, she tried to think of the moments when she was happy with Erik, of sun filled mornings in their little house by the river. She felt tears stream down her face. The pain reached her through the mist and she cried out as if her body was shattering. And then it stopped. It was over. She was ready to die.

  But instead, she was grabbed by her hair again and forced back onto her knees. Everything floated before her eyes, but through it, she saw Erik and the horror on his face. Blood flowed from his wounds. He was pale as snow. She knew what would follow and through all her suffering, she gave him a warm smile, a smile that was a promise of neverending love, a love that couldn’t be taken away, even by death. He smiled back, wounded, broken and helpless.

  Ten arrows from all sides found their mark in his body. He didn’t even flinch, but simply fell to the ground heavily. Dead. Gone. His beautiful golden brown hair was soaked with blood and those wonderful eyes, always so full of mischief, were now cold and empty.

  She closed her eyes. Her life was over now and she was ready to face death. Why did the Woman of the Light not appear to her now? It was time.

  “Kill me,” she whispered, readying her body for the rain of arrows. It couldn’t hurt more than what had been done to her already. “Kill me and be done with it.”

  Harald released her hair and stood before her. “No, I won’t kill you, whore. Your suffering has just begun.”

  She couldn’t suffer more than she already had. Whatever this man decided to do to her, nothing would hurt her as much as Erik’s death. Now she truly had nothing to lose and nothing to live for.

  She raised her eyes to the King and smiled as a barrage of thunder rolled over their heads. It was a dark smile, one teetering between hate and insanity. No longer was there anyone to protect, anyone to love. She was absolutely alone now and it gave her a cruel kind of freedom. She felt a strange surge of power flow through her, a power she had not felt before. It wasn’t able to set her free, but it gave her the courage to look this murderer in the eye.

  “You will regret it. Each day I live will only make my curse upon you stronger. Each day I live will only make my anger and hatred grow and I swear by Thor that the next time, I will take you down and you will beg for me to kill you. And even if for some reason you survive, Thor will turn your bones to ash. Mark my words, son of a twice-damned swine, you are a dead man.”

  He stared at her and for an instant, she saw a shadow of fear in his eyes, especially when a sudden flash of lightning blinded everyone’s eyes. Another loud crack of thunder made the ground tremble and she felt an enormous charge of strength in every cell of her body.

  Thor had witnessed the injustices done against her and against those she loved. No matter what happened from now on, no matter what she had lost, every breath she took would be devoted to revenge. From now on, it would be the only force that would keep her alive.

  Chapter 25

  The roar of the thunder echoed in the cell. Even so deep underground, she could still hear it, like being at the bottom of well. She had lost all sense of time when she had been brought back to this dungeon.

  There was no way to know if it was day or night. It was always cold, always wet. She was left to live in her own filth. No one was allowed to talk to her or visit her by the King’s order. But, of course, even if someone was allowed to come and see her, who would come? She had no one. Everyone she knew and cared about was dead. The man she loved, friends, people loyal to her, they were all gone, all killed ruthlessly because of her.

  Such guilt was impossible to live with, and yet, she lived on. Her world now was one of dreams. And in those dark and feverish nightmares, she
relived the horrors of the past again and again. Sleep was all she had, and she dreaded every second of it.

  She had no idea what Harald’s intentions were. What was the point of leaving her to rot in this cell? He was a man who cared only for his own pleasure and glory. It seemed out of character for him to find satisfaction in forgetting about her. How easy it would be to kill her in some torturous way, as an amusement on a winter’s night. And yet, here she remained, weak, sick, longing for vengeance and wishing for death.

  She felt dead already. The curse she had cast upon Harald in the glade had taken her last strength, and sadly she didn’t have the power to deliver on her threat. Erik’s death had done what no one else had been able to do. It had crushed her will to live and fight, and she had reached the point now where she no longer had the energy to care. There were no tears left even to mourn the death of the only man she had ever loved. She was empty.

  She heard the sound of heavy boots approaching. It was one of the guards. By now, she knew all of them by their footsteps and voices. This one was called Uthar. She knew this guard well. Wherever Uthar went, the screams of prisoners always followed. He usually passed by her cell, which made her think that the torture cells must be located somewhere near hers. That and the blood-freezing screams of the tortured that endlessly woke her up from her delirious sleep.

  But this time those dreaded heavy footsteps stopped at her door. Her body tensed and she readied to protect herself however she could. It surprised her a bit to learn that her instinct for self-preservation still existed. It did. She heard the jingling of keys and with a heavy push from the outside, the cell door opened.

  Uthar’s voice was as rough and rusty as the keys he carried.

  “There you go, my lady.”

  Someone stepped into the cell carrying a torch. After spending such a long time in the dark, the bright light blinded her to the point of pain. She covered her eyes to protect them. The scent of costly perfume filled the little cell and she knew instantly who was standing in front of her. When it was safe for her eyes, she looked up. It took a while for her vision to adjust, but once she blinked the mist away, her worst suspicions were confirmed.