Of the Orient (A Viking Story)

Chapter Four

Names were not significant to slaves. It was as unimportant as their lives.

She stared closely at Markka's face, noticing the swelling area near the corners of her mouth. She shook her head. "There are plenty of rumors about me so it seems. However, I have a name, but I am not allowed to impart it to anyone's knowledge," she stood up and back away. She spared a glanced to the master's chamber. "You better heed my warning, Markka. If you want to live, you need to be obedient... be creative."

"Creative... how?" Markka asked.

A sigh of resignation left her lips. "For the love of Gods, are you that naive, Markka?" she crouched back and stared at the young girl. "How long have you been a slave?"

Markka looked down briefly before staring at the dark, fiddling with her fingers. "T-Two springs ago..."

"What happened then?" she urged although she had already guess what happened to Markka.

"I am a daughter of a fisherman. Only child. We were poor. My mother left us. No land and could not afford a dowry. When he died, I was immediately taken to slavery to pay his debts."

Payment to debts, of course, she thought.

"That explains the naivety, but that is not an excuse. I'm afraid that one day, it will be the reason to your demise. Listen, you need to learn... quick, or else you will suffer than you are now."

From the cage, Markka grabbed her wrist. "Teach me!"

"Quiet," she warned, her face contorting in pain at the vice grip on her wrist. "Let me go," she demanded.

"Please..." Markka broke down again, her grip loosening. "Are we not the same?"

Her patience snapped. She was not aggressive but Markka was not understanding it.

This time, she grabbed Markka's wrist, her gaze hardening in firm resolution. "You want to learn?"

When Markka did not reply, she tightened her grip and shook the girl, finally getting her attention. "Do you want to learn?" she phrased once again. Each word spoken with emphasis.

When Markka nodded, she released her wrist. "Then, the first step to learning is to cease your crying and accept your fate," her voice was harsh. "That is the only way to suffer less."

Markka only stared at her. The tears stained her cheeks once more. With that, she left Markka to ponder over her words or to wallow on her misery.

As she closed the drapes, her heart and lids felt heavy. Thankfully, sleep had consumed her consciousness.

The next morning, news of an unexpected return had took them all by surprise, especially, her master.

Upon hearing the return, her master had the look of a happy other half that's been waiting for his beloved, however, it did not last for long and her master's expression morphed, mirroring her own confused one.

He stared at her anxiously and she did the same. They both have a bad feeling about this yet neither of them voiced out their concern.

The journey to the river of Dnieper was not easy and definitely not short.

From Staraya Ladoga, they would cross Lake Ilmen. Onwards, they would pass plenty of river channels, going upstream and downstream before they reached their destination.

Her master had picked servants to accompany him to the harbor and she was fortunate enough to be left at the store to keep guard.

Although she was as curious as the others, she didn't like the idea of seeing the viking again, or vikings to be exact since he had a twin and both have a bad temper if she may add.