by Travis Bughi
“This girl knows the jarl,” the woman explained. “She claims he’ll want to meet her.”
“That all?” one of them replied and followed up with a nasty scoff.
The other, though—his eyes were wide open and locked on Emily. He was a big man, big even for a viking, with a long reach. He was agile, too, because he seized Emily by the arm and dragged her out of the rowboat before she could react. Emily succeeded in shaking her hand free once she was on the deck, but the viking only grabbed her again and thrust her up against the house’s wall.
“I know you,” he snarled. “You killed Stendar and stopped him from reaching Valhalla!”
He drew an axe, but did not raise it. Emily tensed and grabbed the massive hand he was using to hold her.
“Ragnar let you go because you were that boy’s sister,” he said, breathing hard. “You know how many times Stendar saved my life? And Ragnar just let you go for nothing. I never forgave him for that. I should hack you down in Stendar’s name, right here.”
“Carlito won’t like that,” she responded coldly.
The hatred in the viking’s eyes flickered, and the other vikings regained their composure. They’d been looking on with open mouths and shocked expressions, but the mention of Carlito’s disfavor brought them back to reality.
“Easy there,” his partner said. “Maybe we should see what the jarl wants first.”
“That might be best,” the woman added. “We’ll be headed back to shore now. Last I saw, she was alive and delivered.”
The woman kicked off the dock, making it clear she wanted no part in whatever bad decisions may come. Real fear seeped into Emily’s bones as she realized there was nothing she could do stop this viking from killing her.
Not yet, she begged. Not yet!
“I said I should,” the viking spat at his partner, “not that I would. I know the jarl won’t let her go, though. You weren’t there, but it was this one that put Carlito in chains the first time. Said if he ever saw her again, he’d make her beg for death.”
He smiled then and yanked Emily off the wall. With one hand, he grabbed the neck of her clothing and shoved her forward. It was all Emily could do to stumble rather than fall. She was shoved along the dock, around the home, and up to the front doors. The viking gave a hard knock on the wooden, double doors, which responded by opening. Emily was thrust inside immediately and then kicked for good measure. She cried out, completely unprepared, and tumbled to the wooden floor, which was bathed in torchlight and warmth. Her nose, fingers, and ears started to ache as they thawed.
There was silence for a moment, and then laughter. It was a lone laugh, at first, deep and gritty with a hint of madness and a dash of malice. There was surprise in it, too, but then it was lost as others joined in all around her. Those laughs weren’t as genuine, that much was apparent, and she lifted her head to see what her ears already told her.
Sitting at a table surrounded by seven vikings sat Carlito Hacke in all his hideous glory. His short, black beard and wavy, long hair did little to distract from his fat nose and scarred cheeks. He grinned at Emily with eyes sunk deep into his skull. He was thinner than Emily remembered, but she couldn’t be sure because of the thick layers of clothing he wore in spite of the heat.
Around him sat the other vikings at a table that was desecrated with the remains of some cooked, four-legged creature. Knives lay nearby, unused, and discarded bones were scattered across the table, the floor, and their clothing. A few of the vikings had half-eaten pieces of meat in hand, dripping fatty grease down their fingers. They were all laughing at Emily now, alongside Carlito, and when Carlito rose, so did they. They followed him to make a semi-circle around Emily, who was still lying on her hands and knees.
Emily felt her heart race, but forced herself to look beyond them to the place she’d been brought. The two-story home was open in the center, allowing Emily to see all the way up to the pine roof overhead. The main hall was flanked by rooms, two below and two above, on either side. There were four serving women scattered about, looking just as scared as Emily, but emaciated, as well. Two were carrying fresh mugs to the table, one was sweeping on the second floor, and another appeared lost, sitting on a stool near a wooden throne situated near the back of the home. All had stopped to stare at Emily, but she didn’t give them any more than half a glance.
What really concerned her was that she didn’t see her brother.
“I must be dreaming,” Carlito said, his laughter dissipating into a quiet chuckle. “Is that really you? I can’t believe it.”
He came forward and grabbed Emily by her chin. She slapped his hand away, but not before his disgusting hands left grease on her skin.
“It is!” he laughed. “By the sea, you finally came for him! And I was beginning to think you’d never show! You remember this one, don’t you lads? Old Ragnar’s favorite little amazon? She just loves being touched, as I recall. Grab her!”
The vikings closed in and grabbed Emily by the arms and legs. Carlito snapped his fingers, and the women behind him forgot their surprise immediately, rushing over to clear the table of leftovers. They barely got the table cleared before Carlito and the vikings hauled Emily over there.
“On the table,” Carlito growled. “Strap her down. Rope!”
Unceremoniously, the vikings flipped Emily on her back and slammed her onto the slimy table. It nearly knocked the wind from her lungs, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Her clothing slid in grease, and her head landed in something squishy while her hair caught on the wood. She gave a half-hearted struggle as the vikings yanked her limbs down and began to tie her wrists and ankles to the table.
“Sorry about the mess, love.” Carlito smiled. “That’s roasted warg pup you’re sitting in. It’s tender meat. You know how much I like tender meat.”
He stepped up to her and ran the back of his fingers down the side of her cheek. His rough skin dragged on hers, and she resisted the urge to retch or bite his finger off.
Keep calm, she told herself. Damn it! Calm!
All the memories of Carlito were flooding back to her now. How he’d hid in the shadows, harassed her for months, and treated her like loot to be plundered. She could smell his thick breath from here, feel him choking her back on that ship, and it took all she had to keep from screaming as she felt the ropes wrap around her limbs.
“That’s it, lads.” Carlito nodded. “Make it tight. Keep going, all the way up to the knees and elbows. This skinny lass can just about sneak out of anything. I’ve seen it, and I don’t want her getting free until we’ve had our fun. Go ahead! Cut those clothes off. She won’t need them!”
Suddenly there were knives pulling at her sleeves, and she resisted the urge to scream again as the heavy coat she wore was sliced opened and dragged out from underneath her. She felt pressure on her forearms and ankles, heard the leather split, and then felt the ropes grind against her bare skin. They kept on laughing as they did it, cheering and whistling as Emily’s skin became exposed. She did her best to remember whom she was, though, and flexed her muscles to create space she could use to wiggle free. Cold chills ran up and down her spine regardless of the heat from the hearth nearby.
“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for you.” Carlito leaned in towards her face. “Oh wait! Yes, I can. A year, right? Isn’t that when you refused my generous offer to be by my side? You should have picked me over Mosley, love. I could have shown you the world. Hey!”
His hand came across her cheek hard, and it stung, especially since her cheek was still cold, but she gave him nothing more than a grunt.
“Look at me unless you want another,” he growled.
She looked at him, meeting those despicable eyes and that ugly face.
“That’s better.” He smiled and leaned closer. “Come now, love. Don’t tell me you haven’t missed me, too. You’d have to come to me. Admit it, you’ve been dreaming of this.”
He grabbed her by the chin before she could look awa
y again, forcing her mouth closed, and then leaned in to kiss her. His gritty lips touched hers, smelling of charred meat and black grime. Emily made a muffled scream while she kicked against her restraints. She tried to wrench her face away, but his grasp was too strong, holding her chin so tight that it hurt. When he pulled away, she spat in his face.
He flinched and then slapped her again. She cried out this time, unable to hold down the nervous feelings churning her stomach.
Please hurry, she begged, reaching out toward the colossus.
“I’ve been waiting for that kiss for so long,” he cooed, wiping her spit from his lips and cheek. “I know you have, too, and this is how you repay me? To think, I was going to make you my wife. Puh! This is the thanks I get for my kindness? You ungrateful wench.”
He grabbed her chin again and gave it a squeeze before pulling away, leaving Emily to grimace and spit his saliva off her lips. The other vikings finished tying her down and stepped back, leaving her open and exposed to the ceiling above. They ripped away the last bit of clothing she had left, a thin white tunic and some leather breeches. She was naked now, completely, and it was terrifying. Her heart raced out of control, and her body trembled.
Damn it, she silently screamed. Keep it together. Keep it together!
She closed her eyes and tried to reach out for the colossus. She had to know where it was, how close, and whether she could count on it to make it in time. In vain, she attempted to escape the table she was strapped to, but found nothing but the darkness of her own mind.
Please, be there, she called. Come to me! Come now!
“Turn her this way,” she heard Carlito say.
The vikings grabbed the table and lifted it easily, spinning her around so she could face the pirate-turned-jarl seated on his wooden throne just five paces away. He was smiling at her, tracing a grimy finger across his lips as if to savor the forced kiss. Emily’s stomach churned, and her jaw clenched so tight her teeth hurt. She could still feel the sting on her cheek where he’d slapped her. Her body was full on shaking now.
I should have waited.
“What beauty,” Carlito cooed. “Ah, don’t look at me like that, love! You should be proud of this moment. Come now, admit it! You must have missed me! Why else come back? Just admit you couldn’t live without me. You traveled off to Savara and who knows where else and realized there was no greater man in this world than me. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it on your skin.”
He wants to see you scared, she told herself. He wants to see you afraid. Just keep him talking.
“You see nothing,” she responded, and then said nothing else because she knew that Carlito loved nothing better than the sound of his own voice.
“She speaks!” He laughed. “That’s a good lass! For a moment I’d thought you lost your voice, likely snatched away by my presence? Haha! If I were you, I’d make good use of that tongue of yours, love. Things might go . . . easier. How did she get here?”
His last words were directed to the viking who’d slammed Emily against the wall. That viking balked, though, and stuttered when he realized he’d forgotten to find that out in his hurry to see Emily tortured.
“I,” he swallowed, “don’t know. Dana handed her off to me.”
“Well, go fetch Dana then,” Carlito said in a mocking voice.
The viking gave a nod, and then he and his partner left the hall. Carlito exhaled sharply as they left and then turned his attention back to Emily.
“I guess it don’t matter, now does it, love?” he asked. “You’re here now, and that’s what counts. Here, waiting for me. Waiting for me to make you a real woman, aren’t you? Tell me, did you come with any others? Perhaps a certain pirate with a feathery hat and a rude habit of shooting folks in the neck?”
His voice turned dark at his last words, and his right fist curled up. Emily looked to the ceiling and tried to reach out again.
“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine with me, love,” Carlito said suggestively. “We can skip straight to what I’ve had in mind for quite some time.”
“No!” Emily shouted, head flying up. “No! Mosley didn’t come with me. I don’t know where he is! I never saw him make it to shore from Savara. A roc destroyed the ship. I . . . I barely made it to land myself.”
“Hm, pity.” The ugly bastard snorted, reaching a hand to rub his stubbly neck. “I was hoping he was still alive so I could pay the debt I owe him. Never mind him, though. It’s you that I knew would come. I know why you’re here, and I have your brother alive and well. Actually, ‘well’ ain’t exactly right. He’s down below, keeping my dungeons warm with his lover. He doesn’t make a very good slave, see, so he’s been serving as my personal whipping post. I’m a generous jarl, though. I let others have a turn whenever they want.”
The other vikings laughed again, and Emily felt another shudder travel up her spine—this one of rage.
“I’m going to kill you,” she said.
A wicked silence fell over the hall as Carlito and his vikings froze for a moment, and only the crackle of the fire could be heard. Then Carlito smiled, followed by a chuckle, and soon he was laughing loudly. His men did the same, following him with laughter so hard that two actually doubled over to slap their knees. Carlito even wiped a tear from his deep-socketed eyes before standing up and pacing towards Emily.
“You know, love,” he said with a chuckle. “I think those were old Ragnar’s last words! Why don’t I tell you about him? I think you’d like that.”
He paced up until his legs touched the table, between Emily’s thighs. He placed one hand on each leg, making her stomach clench again and her legs recoil. She could do nothing but struggle against the ropes, though, and she looked away as he leaned down to take a deep inhale of her skin.
“I had almost forgotten how you smelled,” he whispered. “Like . . . like summer.”
Emily smelled horrible, and she knew it. She hadn’t taken a bath since the dwarves, and she didn’t know what game Carlito was playing at. Was he really so delusional as to believe he could sweet talk her?
“You’ll recall old Ragnar Ragnarson,” he went on, rubbing her inner thighs with his thumbs. “Big man, full of useless brawn and lacking a proper brain. Thought he could do what he wanted and not suffer the consequences. You might remember one of those decisions: letting you and Mosley go.”
“Captain Mosley,” Emily said defiantly.
“Just Mosely.” Carlito squeezed her thigh until she squirmed. “He weren’t no captain after I’d taken his crew, useless as they were. Anyhow, turns out that letting you go wasn’t exactly a popular opinion with those that followed Ragnar. Stendar had a good number of friends, friends who wanted you dead or enslaved for keeping his weapon out of reach when he died. They didn’t care whether you were Nicholas’ sister or not because, truth be told, many were resentful of the fact that Ragnar adopted some farmer’s boy from the Plains in the first place. You with me so far?”
He slid his hands up her legs to grab her by the waist, and Emily had to grimace to keep from retching up the bile in her stomach. She was breathing fast, trying not to let Carlito’s pungent stench distract her.
Where are you? she begged.
She tried to reach out forcibly, abandoning her attempts to stay calm in favor of reaching the colossus in any way possible. Try as she might, though, her mind would not be moved. The nauseous feeling in her gut kept her too grounded.
“Where’s my brother?” she asked, trying to keep the pirate talking.
“I just told you,” Carlito said. “He’s down in the dungeon with his lover. Seems your brother struck it off well with one of the other crewmembers, someone young like him. I didn’t know how long it would take for you to return, so I kept them both alive, using one as leverage on the other to make them do as I want. Like I said, they’ve been terrible slaves.”
“Why didn’t you just kill them?” she asked. “What are you going to do?”
“I thought if I killed
them, you’d never come.” He shrugged. “I figured so long as little Nicholas was alive, you’d risk it all to rescue him. Now that you’re here, though, you do bring up a good point. I think I will kill them both.”
The vikings around him chuckled again.
“You’ll never get the chance.” Emily’s lips curled into a snarl. “I’m going to kill you.”
“Ah yes!” Carlito snapped his fingers and pointed at Emily. “Ragnar’s demise! Thank you for reminding me. So as I was saying, love, old Ragnar loved a good fight, but wasn’t really particular about thinking things through. I found this out, to my delight, on one dark and stormy night.”
The vikings laughed once more, though at what, Emily wasn’t sure. She was still trying to search for her savior beyond the wooden walls and beneath the frigid waves.
“Ragnar was never happier than when he was fighting,” Carlito said. “All of life, far as he was concerned, was preparing for one fight after the next. He hated being home for that reason—a place like this is so rarely attacked—and he could never leave fast enough for his next voyage. This was another thing that didn’t sit too well with his men, particularly those who would leave their wives and children here when they went with him.
“So as fate would have it, one night when Ragnar comes home, the weather turns foul. Icy rain and hail, strong winds, tough currents, and old Ragnar is locked up in this hall with nothing but his slaves, a few men, and food and drink. To a viking—and to a pirate, actually—that meant there was only one thing worth doing: getting rotten drunk until the storm blows over. Well, unfortunately for him, this ain’t no normal storm. It lasts damn near a few days, and old Ragnar drinks enough ale to drown a kraken. Worse yet, he’s bored, and I’ve never known anyone to make a worse decision but when they’re drunk and bored.”