1. Johanna
"Please." I begged even though they didn't understand my language but I had to try. I couldn't let them kill me, not after I fought so hard to be where I am today. My father brought me here on a boat, said that we were going to restart our lives here. Kattegat was a large trading post and my father saw a lot of opportunity here, it was too bad he was murdered, all because he believed in a different god than these Pagans.
Now I was going to share the same fate.
"Þegiðu!" (Shut up!) The man bellowed, his hair falling infront of his face as he hit me. I had lost consciousness for a moment – waking up in more pain than I had been in earlier. There was a lot of blood around me, most of it coming from my abdomen – had they stabbed me? it was dark, I couldn't see too well but the pain had felt like it.
I had no idea what he was saying, father hadn't taught me their language that much, I knew how to say hello – Halló. Thank you - Þakka þér fyrir. And My name is Johanna- Ég heiti Johanna. Lastly, and most importantly -ég tala bara ensku- I only speak English.
"Don't kill me." I begged as he ripped off my dress, revealing my almost sheer underdress. It wouldn't be long now, I told myself as I closed my eyes. Their rough hands were all over my body, scratching my soft skin. What would they do with me? would my death be quick? Maybe I would die from my wounds before I had to witness what they did to my body.
The rain started, it pelted me – as if God was just laughing at me as he looked down at me. as if it could get any worse. It did start to wash the blood off of me, as if he was washing away all of my pain. Metaphorically of course, because this really hurt.
He pushed my face into the mud, the blood from my face mixing with the mire beneath me creating a sticky muck that clung onto me. my head ached, my vision blurring. It wouldn't be long now. Soon I will be in heaven with father – that was not a bad thing...
"þú munt njóta þess." (you will enjoy this.) He uttered in my ear, the meaning of his words lost like the air in my lungs being pushed out of my body. I stood just below 5 feet tall and weighed a mere 90lbs soaken wet, I was a very small woman. This man was over 6 feet tall and weighed as much as two elephants, but he didn't seem to think so as he pushed all of his weight onto my rib cage.
"Komdu burt af henni." (Get away from her.) A man said, grabbing the man ontop of me. his weight was pulled off of me but I couldn't get up because I had no strength. The darkness had closed in on me and my body wouldn't move. It felt like someone had grabbed me and I didn't even bother to fight them anymore. the darkness can take me while I pray that I die quickly or when I wake up that I would be okay enough to make it back to my home.
When I finally came to I was in a cabin laying on the floor in a makeshift bed of straw with a fur over it infront of the fire – I was still wet and soaked with the mud I had been assaulted in. where was i? who brought me here? My head drummed with the beat of my heart making me nauseous.
"Ég hef mat. allt sem þú þarft að gera er að fara upp." (I Have food all you have to do is get up.) A man's voice said to me startling me. I spun around, clutching the small wool blanket to my chest as I did so. I was met by the most beautiful icey blue eyes , he was in a chair above me with a glass in his hand.
"Ég heiti Johanna." I said quickly. "ég tala bara ensku." (I only speak English)
"I see." He said taking a sip from his cup. "That's okay, I speak English."
"Who are you?" I asked, losing my strength- falling back to the floor. To my amazement within seconds he was on the floor above me, holding my head up so I would drink from his cup.
"I am Ivar." He said pulling the cup from my lips. "Now, rest Johanna, you had a rough night."
"Please, don't hurt me." I said, my hand on his.
His gaze kept mine for a moment before he put the cup to my lips again. The liquid was warm now an in an instant I felt some strength come back to me but he insisted I try to sleep, but I was so cold and uncomfortable yet I had no standing to go against his wishes. He saved my life, I had to do as he said.
"You're injured, you're not going anywhere." He said as I looked at the door, wondering where I even was. Was in still in Kattegat? Or was I now in a neighboring town? I had heard the name Ivar before – but I couldn't place it... I didn't understand anyone when they talked, usually my father told me the gist of what I needed to know.
"I am fine." I said laying back down, the pain in my side making me want to throw up.
"I had to stitch you up, you got blood everywhere. I'm still not sure you don't have a punctured lung, you coughed up so much blood." He snorted. "Get some sleep, you need all the rest you can get."
"I have to go home." I muttered, rolling onto my back.
"This is home now, until I make sure you're okay – atleast."
The darkness took me and within moments I was in a field full of daisies back home, in England, with my father. I was running around him, throwing flowers as we laughed. He was my best friend – the only thing I had left. now I had nothing.
