by Andromeda -
Ingrid didn’t look back when they left, as she knew that if she did, then she most likely would have gone back into his arms. It was hard for her to not look at Henrik and not see the man she fell in love with. She remembered when they both were simple farmers, raising their family, yet the gods must have not wished for them to remain thus because before she knew it, he was the Jarl of their territory.
At first, all was well in their territory, but the day she and Alrik went away for a diplomatic meeting for Henrik, Gala made her move. When Ingrid and Alrik returned, word had already spread of Henrik’s infidelity and of Gala’s growing stomach. The fact that the girl had become pregnant so quickly hurt Ingrid almost as much as finding out of Henrik’s unfaithfulness.
She had always wanted more children. For a long time, Alrik wasn’t her only child, but when a terrible sickness came, it destroyed virtually all that she had loved. Alrik was her only surviving child. She swore then that she would do whatever it took to protect him. After Henrik had betrayed her, it made her drive stronger.
To that was why they were here in this abandoned farm. It would take a bit of work, and they would have to work quickly before the snow came, as winter was quickly approaching.
“I saw a village not far from here when I was scouting,” Ingrid said to Alrik. “With the coin that we have, I am sure we can buy what we need.”
“Yes, mother,” Alrik said in a monotone.
Ingrid arched an eyebrow. “And I also want to paint myself blue, then run down the roads naked.”
“Yes, mother,” Alrik said again, still in monotone.
“Alrik,” Ingrid snapped. “Are you paying attention to me?”
Alrik blinked and looked to his mother. “Huh?”
“What is on your mind, my son?” Ingrid asked as she set the arrow to the side.
“Nothing,” Alrik lied.
A smirk curved on Ingrid’s lips. “My son, I know when you are lying and when you are telling the truth. Tell me, what is wrong?”
“I…I miss her,” Alrik finally confessed.
“Her?” Ingrid said, confusion on her face.
“Rashida,” Alrik admitted. “The…servant girl.”
“Oh,” Ingrid said with a soft smile. “I see. You had grown close to her, yes?”
“Yes,” Alrik sighed. “I had. And…though we had only known each other for a short time, I felt something with her.”
Ingrid nodded. “I understand that. You will see her again.”
“How do you know?” he asked. “Are you a Seiðr?”
Ingrid chuckled. “No, I am not a Seiðr. But I do know that you are the eldest son of Henrik Ironside. When the time comes, you will become Jarl.”
“How can I do that?” Alrik grumbled almost to himself. “He’s married to Gala now and she has his son….”
Ingrid shot him a dark look. “I will not let that whore and her little bastards rule Safirinnsjø when Henrik is gone,” she spat. “I might have forgiven her, but I never, ever forget. The gods will not allow a woman such as that to gain the ultimate prize.”
Alrik glanced at his mother. Never had he heard her speak so venomously before, yet he knew that she had all the right to be so. Gala had ruined their lives, yet both knew that the gods would not allow such a thing to pass without vengeance coming back.
“My son,” Ingrid said as she stood. “The time has come for you to officially begin your training. And when the time comes for us to return to Safirinnsjø, you will take your official place as your father’s heir, and the territory’s future Jarl.”
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The night air was cold and the first flakes of snow were slowly falling from the sky. Rashida lifted the basket at her side, full of the last vegetables of the season. It wasn’t a long walk back to the Jarl’s home from the fields, and she hummed an Egyptian hymn to herself to pass the time.
She was almost back to the house when a twig snapped behind her. Instantly, Rashida froze. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she slowly turned around to see who was behind her. Two men emerged from the forest and Rashida could smell the wine that seemed to cover them like perfume.
“Hello, little girl,” one of them said, his mouth opened to reveal several rotting teeth. “What are you doing out here so late?”
“J…Just gathering vegetables,” Rashida answered, her voice wavered.
“You shouldn’t be out here all alone,” the other said. “Bad things happen to such…pretty girls like you.”
He reached out to touch her cheek, but Rashida pulled back. She could sense their evil intent, and if she didn’t get away now, then she might not ever. Her hand reached into the basket and took out a radish. With a grunt, she threw it with all her might before she turned around and fled. She didn’t care if it hit or miss. All that mattered was the distraction it might have caused.
She heard their heavy footsteps behind her, and as Rashida ran, she tried to pull up her skirts to keep from tripping. She was so preoccupied. However, she didn’t see where she was going and her foot snared itself on a raised root, which made her twist her ankle and fall to the ground.
They were upon her before she could scramble to her feet. A heavy hand slapped over her mouth before she could open it to scream.
“We were going to be gentle with you,” the first one said. When Rashida looked at him, she saw a large bruise over his eye. “But now, I don’t care if you bleed.”
“Please!” Rashida pleaded. “I…I am the slave of Jarl Henrik and his wife, Gala. If I don’t come back—”
Her words were cut off by a heavy slap across the face that made her see stars.
“They won’t care,” the second one sneered. “Because they will never, ever find your body.”
He fumbled with her skirts, trying to pull them up as the other held her down. Tears streamed down Rashida’s cheeks as she kicked and tried to fight as best she could, but her young girls’ strength was nothing compared to their might. She was at their mercy. Before she knew it, her skirt was pushed up and his trousers were opened.
“I am going to enjoy this so much…” he said with a wicked grin, his body ready.
Suddenly, time froze around Rashida and the sounds of the world grew silent. As she looked at the bright, clear moon, she felt something within her. A stirring of power that began from her very core and then spread out through her body. Her green eyes illumined while the pupils transformed from being round, to vertical slits.
As the man moved in, he was abruptly propelled off her body by an invisible force. The same force yanked the man who was holding her down and slammed him into the trees. Slowly, Rashida stood up, her red curls covered the left side of her face, which left the right side visible. The look she gave them was cold. One that would have stilled the heart in a moment.
“You dare touch my vessel?” Rashida said, though the voice was not her own. “You dare touch my Seiðr?”
She thrust a hand out and both yelped in surprise as the force grabbed them. Slowly, they were raised into the air as the moon reflected in her eyes. Her hand clenched into a fist and they let out a gasp. Their heads were jerked back as their necks were snapped.
Their bodies dropped to the ground and when Rashida came out of her daze, she looked at what she had done in horror. So many thoughts went through her mind, but she knew that she couldn’t be here if someone came. So, she quickly grabbed her basket and ran, not stopping until she got back home.
Chapter Five: A Path is Already Carved for Us
Spring came, then winter, and then spring again. Before Rashida knew it, three years had passed since she had come to Safirinnsjø. Life as a slave to Henrik Ironside and his second wife, Gala slow didn’t bother her as much. Of course, she would have wished to be a free woman, but she worked hard to prove herself, so that when the time came, she might earn her freedom. As she grew in age, however, she also grew in beauty.
The young 16-year-old was a sight to behold in the village with her
brown skin, sapphire eyes and scarlet locks. Her hair, that at first barely kissed her shoulders as she used to cut it, now fell to the middle of her back. Her body was molding itself into that of a woman. From her hips to the beginning of her getting a bosom. Men looked at her with lust; women, in envy. One main woman who did this was Gala, who was always on the lookout for women she thought might turn Henrik’s eyes from her.
Every year that passed, Gala was always pregnant. Her legs were constantly spread to Henrik to keep him close to her. Before long, three boys were running around the home. She knew she had nothing more to offer than a womb, and the only way that Henrik wouldn’t submit to his semi-wondering eye was to always be in her bed. Thus, her eyes were always on the servant girls. Most of them, in her eyes, weren’t anything to fear, but when it came to Rashida…
Rashida knew of Gala’s insecurity towards her, thus, the young girl tried her hardest to never be in her way. She tried to keep her head down, and always do her chores to the best of her ability, yet with this adult body, came adult feelings. She would look at Henrik and Gala and what they had: love.
She wondered if she would ever find a man to love her the way Henrik seemed to love Gala. She wondered if being a slave was all that she was going to be, and or have. Every night when she would pray to the gods of Egypt, she would ask Bastet for guidance, for help.
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“Rashida,” Gala said one morning, “come here.”
Rashida set down her work—she was braiding rope—and walked to her Mistress, her head bowed. “Yes, my lady?”
“You have been working hard today,” Gala remarked. “I am giving you the rest of the day off.”
For a moment, Rashida tilted her head in confusion. Her mind worked to try and figure out why Gala would want her out of the home. Then the answer came to her. Henrik would be coming home soon from hunting and Rashida knew she must keep her head down.
“How long might I be out of the home, my lady?” Rashida asked.
“Until later today,” Gala said before she waved her hand in dismissal.
Rashida bowed her head and backed out of the room. It was a bright and clear day, so she decided to take a walk. At first, however, she went to go and check on her siblings. The two younger children were with the young slaves like always, doing the same tasks she did when she was their age. Nour was now 13 and Auset was now 11. Nour had two more years until he, in the eyes of their masters, was going to be considered a man.
“I’m going out for a walk,” Rashida said to them. “Do you want me to bring you something for the forest?”
“More of that fruit you always seem to find,” Auset said with a smile.
Nour nodded. “Same here.”
Rashida smiled and kissed their foreheads before she got up and left the house. The air was warm and she smiled to herself as she walked through the forest. She always loved being outdoors, and every time she was, it made her feel a better connection to nature.
Her hand reached out to caress the flowers as she walked. When she came to a bolder, she leaned against it to take off her shoes to feel the soft grass under her bare toes. Nature had always been where she could find comfort. As she walked and looked to the sky, a dark moving shape caught her attention. It was a bird, a large black bird that dipped and dived in the air. It flew at her. It’s claw feet reached to grasp a tree branch before it fixed its black eyes upon her.
Rashida tilted her head to the side, and the bird copied her movements. She tilted her head to the other side and the bird did it again, which made her giggle.
“Why are you copying me?” she asked it.
The bird said nothing, of course, yet Rashida could see that intelligence sparkled behind those black eyes. Its beak opened, and then the bird let out a loud caw, which made the hairs on the back of Rashida’s neck stand on end. Yet, when it flapped it’s wings and took to the sky, she found herself following it.
Rashida didn’t know where it was going, but she felt the need to follow it. The bird led her deeper and deeper into the forest until the smell of cooked meats filled the air around her. Before long, a cottage appeared before her, and before Rashida knew what she was doing, she pushed the door open.
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The inside of the cabin was small, yet cozy, and Rashida smiled as she walked inside to look around.
“Hello?” she called out cautiously. “I’m not here to steal from you!”
Movement caught her eye, and when she turned around, an old woman emerged from seemingly out of nowhere. The woman had long snow-white hair, her skin was wrinkled, yet when Rashida looked into the woman’s grey eyes, she saw a fire that burned like a thousand suns.
“Hello, child,” the woman said in a clear voice. “What brings you here today?”
Rashida swallowed. “I…I am here because I followed a bird.”
“A bird?” the woman said with a chuckle. “Do you mean this bird?”
She snapped her fingers and the black bird that Rashida had seen flew into the house and landed on the woman’s shoulder. It purred, rubbing its head against her shoulder as the woman stroked it.
“I see Agda did her job well,” the woman said with a smile.
“Her…job?” Rashida repeated, confused. “What…what do you mean?”
“She brought you here,” the woman said. “To me, which is what she was supposed to do.”
“W…Why was she supposed to bring me here?” Rashida asked. “What do you want from me?”
The woman smirked. “I want to train you.”
“Train me? Why?”
“Because, my child,” the woman said. “You are very special, and only I can train you to control your powers.”
“I…I don’t know what you are talking about,” Rashida stammered, her eyes looking for a way of escape. “I…I’m completely normal.”
The woman laughed, and when she did so, the bird seemed to copy her. “Oh, my child, how stupid do you think I am? You and I both know that normal isn’t in your vocabulary. You see things, flashes of the future. You feel as if you are the only person in the world. Why do you feel so alone? It’s because you are not with your sisters.”
“M…My sisters?” Rashida stammered. “You are being ridiculous! I…I’m leaving.”
She turned to leave, but an invisible force grabbed her and turned her around. She yelped in surprise as it yanked her back into the room and shoved her into a chair. She looked around in surprise and found the woman laughing. Before she could ask what was so funny, her attention was drawn to the fire, which was creeping towards her. Rashida tried to move away from the chair, but she was felt fast by it, and as the fire circled her, she could feel it’s heat.
“Stop!” she cried out. “Please!”
“You tell it to stop,” the woman said, her body not moving.
The fire moved closer and when it began to lick her bare toes, she had enough.
“STOP!” Rashida screamed at the top of her lungs.
The cottage shook violently. Instantly, the fire was sniffed out, but the ground under her began to split. Rashida gasped, tightly closing her eyes in fright, but nothing happened. Instead, the ground stopped shaking until everything was still. Slowly, she opened an eye and found the old woman mere inches from her face.
“And you call yourself normal,” she said. “You, my child, can be so much more. However, the choice is up to you. You might hope and pray that this goes away, but it never will. You can’t fight it, you must embrace it.”
Chapter Six: Skips of Time
“My lord, I have the items that you wished,” a woman said.
Alrik stopped what he was doing and walked to her and nodded his head. “Thank you.”
As he took the items and continued his walk back home, he looked over his home now. Almost six years had passed since he and his mother had left Safirinnsjø, and the abandoned farm they had found quickly turned into something else: their own village. At first, it didn’t begin as
that, as Ingrid and Alrik wished to live alone and without problems from others, but as time wore on, people came and asked to settle.
Ingrid thought on this hard and long as she didn’t wish to turn people away, but she also didn’t want troublemakers coming into their newly founded village. Thus, a strict code of honor was set in place, and only those who vowed to follow them could settle on the land.
At first, one house appeared, and then two, and then three, and then five, and before Ingrid and Alrik knew it, their small settlement had turned into a village. They named it Nytt hjem, meaning ‘New Home’ in their language. Everyone looked to Ingrid and Alrik as leaders, and slowly, the village began to grow. It became a trading port. The land was fertile for farming and before long, the village began to prosper.
Ingrid was a strong leader. Her skills in battle were unmatched, and through minor raids and battles, their territory spread out until it rivaled that on Henrik’s lands. Alrik was happy for his mother as she seemed happy herself, but something was always on the back of his mind. Well, most importantly, someone.
He missed her, he couldn’t to himself. The thought of Rashida was always on Alrik’s mind at night as he lied in his bed. He was 20 years old now, and as he did the numbers in his mind, she was 18. She was a woman now. He wondered what she looked like. Did she still have those dents in her cheeks that appeared when she laughed? Was her hair longer now? Did her skin turn darker? These simple thoughts went through his mind, but they quickly turned to more intimate ones.
She was a woman now, so she had a womanly body. Alrik found himself dreaming in wonder of the shapes of her hips, her thighs, her breasts. He would have dreams of him moving within her. The feel of her legs wrapped around his waist, the sound of her breathy gasps of bliss, the smell of their lust, the taste of her lips on his. All this and more he desired.
When the time came for him to ‘wet his sword’, a local servant girl came to his bed willingly to be his first. He was very clumsy, and the girl helped him. She wasn’t Rashida, but she taught him the skills of passion of love. He learned the right places to kiss, the right angle of his hips to thrust and more. He was training himself. The exact same way that Ingrid trained him for battle, he was training himself so that when he returned to Safirinnsjø and to Rashida, he would be ready. The time he pulled her into his arms that fight night will be his claim on her.