The Berserker

3

Tormad carried me like I weighed nothing. He was right, we would have taken longer if I was to walk. I didn't know what I would do once we reached the others. We had been traveling for what felt like hours, with no sign of camp. The last time I ate was in the morning, what I would do for some food right now! 

"We're not too far from camp," Tormad tells me. He was correct. From a distance, you can hear the chattering of people. Laughing, and singing. The thicket of bush soon opened to a clearing, where they all sat scattered about. Making this a temporary home for themselves. 

The thing that hit me the most was the smell of meat roasting over a pit. By the looks of it, it still had hours before it was ready for consumption. Tormad walks through the camp without a care whilst I shied away, by burying my face against his furs. 

The warmth of Tormad vanished and is replaced with soft furs making up a bed. "I will get someone to look at your feet." 

He didn't wait for me to respond. I sat on the bed, alone. My eyes fixed on the tent door waiting for his return. I didn't have to wait long. Tormad returned, bringing with him someone who would heal my feet. A woman trailed behind him. She doesn't lift her head to look at me. 

"Kari, this is Helga," Tormad introduces me to the woman. "She is our best healer." 

Helga doesn't speak. She kneels and takes my feet into her hands. Inspecting them thoroughly. Once she was done, she speaks, but in a language I didn't understand. Tormad replies and exits the tent, leaving me alone with her. I sat there weary of what she might say or do to me with Tormad not here to prevent any ill-doing. Though Helga was gentle touching me, I am very adamant she could crush me if given a chance. 

If we were to stand side by side, Helga easily towered my small frame. Her arms are taut, unlike my boney limbs. I wonder what it was she did aside from healing that made her have such a lean physique. Tormad comes back with a sachel and hands it over to Helga. She takes it from him and begins pulling out cloth, a small wooden bowl, and little vials. I watch her pour from one of the vials into the bowl, and with a clean cloth dip it into the concoction. It was a sweet smell, one that made my stomach roar from hunger.  After she was done wiping away the dried blood and picking out the small splitters with her fingers, Helga wraps my feet in a fresh cloth. 

I thank her, unsure if she could understand. Tormad must have translated for me, as he spoke and gestured in my direction. Helga briefly glances my way and gives me a subtle nod before exiting the tent. 

"She was pleasant," I murmur, mostly to fill the sudden silence that grew once the third person left. Although I felt somewhat safe with Tormad, I couldn't fully trust myself in his presence. After all, he did raid my village and his men kill many of my people. 

"Did my father die a quick death?" I ask, looking up at Tormad with hooded eyes. My lower lip starts to tremble knowing he is no longer alive. I'm an orphan. 

Tormad sighs and unclasps the buckle holding the fur draped around his shoulders. My throat dries as I watch him untuck his tunic from his trousers and with one swift movement, lifts it over his head. Heat crawls up my neck and toward my face. I clear my throat and glance away. 

"We have a few hours before we eat." My chest quickens when Tormad lays down on the bed beside me. He drapes an arm over his eyes. "We rest until then." 

Was he expecting me to just lay down next to him? I just sit there, my mouth slightly open. I will not lay down next to a half-naked man. Least of all, a man who could so easily kill me. 

The flap to the tent opens, and I jerk my head toward the intruder. Tormad didn't seem to see the man as a threat. But I knew better. Igor's eyes linger on me longer than I wished, before he turn to his brother and kicked at his feet. Tormad, groan and lifted his arm up slightly to get a glimpse at who dears to disrupt his rest.