The tide turns

Chapter 7 / Departure

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"Alright men, pack it up" Askeladd ordered, having gathered his warriors just before the crack of dawn. They were yawning, and a few looked to be fighting off a hangovers and stomachaches from the night before.

They had stayed in the village for 8 days, which had been longer than anticipated, but that also mean tit was time to go.

"Why so early?"

"I hardly got any sleep last night..."

A few were whining and groaning like children, rubbing their eyes as they began to gather their belongings and everything they had plundered from the village, and as they did that, Askeladd watched with his arms folded over his chest, hoping that they would be quiet as they packed.

He looked towards the outskirts of the village where there was a small shed that had been used for storage.

There was one warrior missing, one that Askeladd had made sure not to wake up.

"Thorfinn isnt here..." Bjorn stated, walking up beside Askeladd. Bjorn, besides Askeladd, was one of the few that actually noticed Thorfinn's presence whenever he wasn't demanding a duel, it was after all him and Askeladd that was at fault for setting Thorfinn onto the warriors path. Maybe they both felt an odd sense of responsibility for the boy.

"No, he isn't" Askeladd nodded, only glancing over at Bjorn for a moment. "And he isn't coming"

"Did he tell you that?"

Of course he didn't, Thorfinn would never make that decision on his own, not until Askeladd was dead.

"I decided it. I'm done with him, so we're leaving him here" Askeladd's voice lacked any real emotion, it was matter of fact, with no guilt of leaving the boy behind to fend on his own.

"We tried this before, remember? He always tracks us down" Bjorn reminded him. In the years that Thorfinn had been following them around they had tried to leave him behind, a few times it was genuinely accidental, but mostly it was to try and get rid of a thorn in their side. Thorfinn wasn't dumb however, unfortunately... even as an 8-year-old he had been able to follow their tracks and caught up to them in the span of a few days.

"Can I not have a little hope, Bjorn?" Askeladd shrugged and asked humorously before he turned serious again. "This time there's a chance he might actually stay away..."

The chance was slim, but now Thorfinn had a choice. He could follow them, be led by hatred and probably die on the battlefield one day, which was obvious the wrong choice to make, or he could give up...

He had a friend now, that girl, whatever her name was, and maybe that meant that she could help him find a new purpose.

Askeladd envied the boy, he never felt like he had a choice, the danish blood in his veins and the years he had spent in his fathers house made him leave Wales, his mothers home where her grave was, and he became a warrior. Thorfinn wasn't the same... his father hadnt been like Askeladd's, in fact, Thors might've been one of the greatest men to ever live.

Askeladd wondered if Thorfinn could ever be like Thors. It was hard to imagine, but he hoped that there was a possibility, that somewhere beyond all that hatred was a good man... a true warrior. Did Thorfinn even know what that was?

"And why do you think that?"

Askeladd's only reply was a shrug. It was something Askeladd would like to keep to himself.

Everything continued in silence, luckily nobody had the energy to be loud, and nobody else questioned Thorfinn's absence.

Meat, fur, weapons and tools, anything of use or value was taken and the village was left barren in the matter of one hour.

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Thorfinn woke up hours after the other warriors had left, unbeknownst to him. He was sleeping on a fur pelt with a blanket, not unlike the one he had given to Gudrid, wrapped around his shoulders. The shed he was sleeping in was cold, alerting him that it would be even colder when he crawled out from under the blanket, still, he yawned and stood up, suppressing a shiver as a gust of wind blew though the gaps in the walls.

It really wasn't mean to be slept in, it was only for storing tools used for field work, all of which had already been taken out and thrown into one big pile, but a few days after they had attacked the village he had realized that it was one of the only buildings that didn't stink of blood and decay.

Nobody had run in there to hide, and no one had therefore been killed in that tiny building.

Things like that shouldn't still bother Thorfinn, but he did find the smell and the sight disgusting.

He picked up his daggers from the ground where they had laid beside him all night in case one of the warriors got any stupid ideas and decided to barge into Thorfinns space.

When he was done strapping them to his belt he moved to exit the shed.

He thought that maybe he would bring Gudrid another blanket with how cold it seemed to be, she was after all almost completely recovered, and he didnt want her to become sick again because of the weather.

He had almost begun looking forward to talking with her, or rather being talked at.

He knew he was getting too soft for his own good.

Gudrid still knew nothing about what kind of person he truly was, and he had no intention of telling her. It was selfish of him, not wanting to be judged for what he deep down knew was wrong. He just couldnt bear the thought of the same look in Gudrids eyes as there had been in the eyes of the woman who combed his hair when he was younger.

Thorfinn inhaled the freezing air sharply and stepped outside.

His first instinct was to go straight to the beach, as he had done the last couple of days, but he was stopped in his tracks as soon as he took in his surroundings.

"What?..."

A chill went down his spine, but not because of the cold.

His confused expression quickly morphed into a deep frown as he felt cold liquid fury wash over him.

"Askeladd!" He shouted as if Askeladd was still close enough to feel his rage, but Thorfinn knew that Askeladd and the others were king gone. In his need to vent his anger he kicked the nearest object, a bucket and watched it fly into the distance and then he stood still.

He stood there, and everything was so quiet for a moment. It was as if the wind, the trees and every animal even ceased to exist.

Normally he would follow them immediately, not wasting a single moment standing in silence.

He wasn't supposed to feel bad... but he did.

For once he had someone counting on him, someone that could make him feel a little better about his miserable existence, and maybe he would never see her again.

No... he probably wouldn't...

He tightened his hands into fists, feeling his fingernails dig into his palms, stinging enough to make him wonder if he was drawing blood.

He turned around slowly, looking the way to the beach where Gudrid was waiting.

He turned again, looking the way he was sure Askeladd would have gone.

He was angry, he was furious... and confused, because there were so many more emotions than anger, but he wasn't gonna try to figure out what they were. Guilt maybe? Loneliness?

He hated it.

He swallowed down a large sticky lump in his throat, feeling sick as it went down, but then he breathed out, closing his eyes before opening then again, feeling a little empty as he took his first heavy steps forward.

Killing Askeladd was his purpose, it was what he lived for...

The sad truth was that Thorfinn wasn't sure who he would be without revenge, although he had never given it much thought.

He couldn't just choose something different just because he felt a little good for a week.

But... he would have liked to say goodbye to Gudrid, although he could probably not sound very genuine.