Destiny Enslaved (editing)

Part 8

Again, I didn't have time to think on the matter as I slammed face first into the muscular wall that was Bjorn's chest. embarrassment bloomed on my cheeks. Nevertheless, I jumped back to look up into Bjorn's stormy blue eyes once more. They were kind and amused, even. He had a small smile on his lips. I smiled back at a loss of anything else to do. 'Flink pike'' he muttered in a kindly tone as a hand gently patted my head.

Like a dog, yes. But I was in no position to have a qualm.

He twisted away from me then and brought forth a mass that had hung limply from his belt. As he raised it in front of my face he shook the thing causing it to jingle; the laughs had died as I could only focus on this. My face soured as comprehension entered my head.

A god damn veil.

Bjorn's own expression reacted by becoming stern. He threw the garment at me quite harshly before pivoting on his foot and continuing his march. It had indeed quickened in pace and gave me little time to think as to whether or not to comply with this order.

I lifted the veil and found that it was both silk and gold. A treasure to be sure- one that Bjorn had put aside for me – as he did the clothes I now wore. A pang of guilt hit my heart. I don't know why but it did and I quickly rolled my hair before slipping on what felt like a muzzle; my heart sinking ever more as it settled on my head. My hair was held snuggly in a turban like wrapping which had been sewn together. A chainmail-like puzzle of gold pieces covered the lower half of my face; hot air blowing back uncomfortably as I breathed. My eyes were concealed by gossamer silk which, sadly, gave more darkness to the world.

I was a mystery again.

And upon reflection, I believe it was intended as the reactions of those invaders who had looked at my eyes thus far had been quite troubled.

I ran to catch up to Bjorn in the selamlik. There he stood, watching as women in varying states of disturbance walked out in a line. Being lead to their cages or chains where I would soon join them. the leader had used me to find his treasure and I felt a cramp in my stomach at the idea of him pushing me into line with them. much as I sympathised with them – they weren't my people. Most of them knew of me in this palace and hated me for being the favourite. As if I lived in luxury- that was mostly gone when I bit a foreign diplomat who was too handsy. It was followed by a beating and six days without food and thimbles of water.

My eyes met with one of the older women. She sneered pure venom took a hold of her chestnut eyes. She was beautiful- even as she lunged, claws raised, towards me. she said nothing. She only made a feral and guttural noise like that of a wounded animal fighting back.

Bjorn stopped her attack with a swift hand across her face. The resounding crack that came from it made every other woman flinch, including myself. A man quickly came to collect her and push her back into line with the others. The tears rolled silently from her eyes as she held her cheek. She had spirit. Hopefully, she would hold onto that in the years to come...

After the procession ended those men who were deemed surplus to guarding the women were told, I assumed, to head to the treasury and begin loading the find onto their caravan or horses or whatever they rode.

We were alone again. and finally, Bjorn looked at me again. he nodded in a motion of happiness that I had done as I was bid. The veil felt more stifling than the other one had- I doubted I would last long when the sun came up.

But I was happy for the moment- or more relieved that I hadn't been thrown into line or beaten. I felt an itch at the top of my spine as I questioned what that meant about me. Was I happy just by not being beaten? No. I would not crawl into that shell of a girl who cried in the night wishing her mother would come in her dreams.