Thorn Rose

Faylin, a nun devoted to God, never thought that there would come the day her peaceful home would be raided by vikings. She hates them with her entire being - heathens. When the Jarl takes a sudden interest in her Faylin vows to not stray away from her convictions.

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4. A Man of few words

(Not edited)

 

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                                                                                    Chapter 4

                          

 The winds had been in their favor the entire way.  By the time the ships pulled into the shore, the moon had climbed higher in the sky, casting a silver light upon them. The men jumped off the ships, stomping through the water, some carrying wooden lockboxes with them.

 

Although Faylin knew nothing about them, or what they contained, whatever it was, it was leading them to sin-stained lives - she had no doubt; the way their eyes sparkled with avarice was indeed a dead giveaway.

 

Faylin shook the thought off her head. ~ It did not matter, either way she would die to see another day… and all her sins would be washed away, she thought. 

 

Suddenly, strong arms hauled her back onto her feet. She let out a shriek, feeling the unsteadiness beneath her at the sudden forced movement. She struggled uselessly against the grip, pushing against whoever was holding her. 

 

Her breath caught as she came face to face with the man’s broad chest, his masculine scent assaulting her senses. She let out a slow breath at their close proximity before looking up. 

 

Sharp and cold eyes stared at her, intensely. His long hair was blowing in the sea breeze as he tilted his head to the side and assessed her face in a disconcerting way.

 

Anger surfaced within her. Faylin felt like an animal being appraised! 

 

She tried to yank herself free from his hands, screaming and trashing about violently. She knew exactly what the barbarian wanted from her. Fear; to fear him and beg him for mercy. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

 

“Unhand me you filthy beast!!” She yelled at him despite the language barrier. He looked down at her, amused by her resistance. The man didn’t even budge, which only made her angrier.

 

"What is it that you want from us? Let me go! No- Ahlis!" she tried calling over her shoulder but his strong hand tugged her forward. Panic overtook her instincts as his grip tightened against her arm and he turned around, dragging her behind him towards the other side of the ship.

 

She glared at his back. The first chance she got, she would escape him…

 

It didn't take her long to notice the throbbing pain that ran through her knee whenever she applied pressure on her left leg. She winced; sweat starting to surface in beads on her forehead. Stubborn as she was, she refused to let her pain show. In one swift motion, the man turned - startling her on the process - and swung her out over the side of the ship, lowering her down towards the water. Her eyes watered as she stumbled sideways. 

 

The heathen followed suit and took her wrists once again in a surprisingly firm yet gentle grip —it didn't matter, Faylin’s mind was screaming in protest to his manhandling. He had stolen her from everything she knew and for that, she would hate him forever. ~~

 

Water lapped around her ankles with every step she took, her teeth clenched with the sharp intensifying pain. Faylin tried. She really tried to summon energy, but she could find none, and so she felt herself falling, crying out in pain. Faylin closed her eyes, expecting to feel the impact but it never came.

 

A hand had shout out, making sure she had a steady stance. She took a deep, shuddering breath at his action. 

 

Her captor leaned down and swept her off her feet, into his strong arms.  Faylin heard herself gasp in outrage and mortification at the indecency. “Let go of me! How dare you touch me, you big oaf!" 

 

"Open your mouth one more time woman and you’ll see yourself sleeping with the fishes..."  Their eyes connected for a moment, leaving her speechless. It was the first time he had spoken; he...he knew her language!

 

She sharply inhaled, eyes widening in shock. The words had been pronounced with a heavy accent; nonetheless, she understood everything. Then, every insult hurled his way came to her mind. She paled; 

 

Faylin could hear male voices, laughter and catcalls.The men were witnessing her humiliation and they took pleasure on it. Wicked.. perverse... depraved! The evil had taken human form! - she was sure of it. That didn't settle well with her at all, not when one of them was carrying her.

 

Unable to bear the thought of looking at him, she closed her eyes – and eventually, fell asleep that way, exhausted.

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