Dawn broke as silence fell on the town. The pain hadn't subsided much at all but my consciousness was weak and I drifted in and out of sleep frequently.
I remember faintly being talked at. I wasn't in any shape to comprehend.
"I'm going to kill my brother"
"How do you plan on doing that?"
"A duel"
Voices came and went as I passed what felt like days in and out of consciousness. Hearing snippets of conversations along the way.
"He does not deserve to live after doing this to her"
"I agree" there was a pause and then the same voice again. "No matter who she is"
"Thank you for your support"
Sven held my hand the entire time. I could feel it. That constant warmth that was there when I woke and there when I fell asleep. But the warmth that filled my heart when I could open my eyes enough to see his face was nothing but pure bliss. His stark features and worry knit eyebrows watching over me, my protector.
"Saoirse" somebody called, the warmth I'd grown accustomed too was gone. I woke in a panic. The pain considerably less prominent. I managed to get my eyes open. It was Helga, her straw like grey hair falling over her shoulders.
" you have to get up now" I hummed in response.
Sitting up I slumped forward. My body below my waist covered by bed clothes. Helga helped me up from the bed. My bandages had dried and the oatmeal mix was crusty. I sighed when I realised it didn't hurt as much as I though it would.
"come on now dear" she said helping me to a large tub of warm-ish water. She helped me out of my dress, as it was folded away from my breasts and down past my thighs along my pasty pail skin was now tarnished with pink splotches.
"Step in" I lifted one leg over the rim. The cool air rushing around my body. I found it very difficult during the first few baths to look at myself. I hated my body. My wrists destroyed and my left leg totally engulfed. But what hurt the most was my left breast and abdomen. Helga sponged some water over my shoulder.
"My my my, you are such a beauty" she cooed. Her withered fingers gathering my hair and laying it over the bath's side. Helga had become my mother. "You remind me of my son a once grate earl that ruled here" she continued.
"He had the most soft skin and the clearest eyes that saw beyond the things in front of him" she paused. Squeezing out the warm water over my neck. "He found the kindness in people and made them good, you remind me of earl Thorsten"
" what was he like" I ask quietly he sounds like an amazing man. I skated my hands over the surface of the water.
"He was a strong leader, he brought peace and prosperity. He grew restless with the lack of production of food from unfruitful soil so he began raiding, he tried to find a place to trade with but found a beautiful woman and he fell in love" Once she had finished helping me bathe she helped me out and she wrapped me up in drying blankets. She brushed her fingers through my hair.
"But he was over thrown by a jealous comrade, he turned the village against him and when he retured with a pregnant wife he was cast out without as much as a sword" she continued to tell the story as I patted myself dry.
Helga had a slight bitter tone in her voice. I can understand her loss. My father and mother being killed had been the most difficult thing is ever felt with until now.
"His legacy is said to live on in the life
Of a beautiful young woman who would be about seventeen or eighteen years of age by now" my imagination was sparked by this, imagine it was me? I laughed in my mind. As if it could be!
My father had an Irish name, 'jarlath'.
"Do you have a good relationship with your father?" She asked. I shook my head.
"He was killed when I was very young, along with my mother" I said gripping onto the bed sheet around my bust.
She apologised.
"My grandmother said he was killed by a Norseman"
Her eyes watched me, a glimmer of something in her eye.
"What was your mothers name?" She asked "she must have been very beautiful to have given birth to a fine young woman like you" she lay a fresh dark brown cotton dress down beside me.
A lump in my throat grew to stop me from speaking. I hadn't spoken of my parents in so long. I seemed as if I was hardly their daughter at all.
"Aoibheann"
Helga was taken aback by my words. Her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes watering.
"I'm sorry did I upset you?" I panicked
"No no, not at all" she smiled and hurried me to get dressed and I did. There was a feeling of uncertainty left hanging in the room.
"Where is Sven?" I ask looking up from under my lashes. She looked at me.
"He said he had somethings to work out but that he will be back"
"Oh" I paused but she smiled, it cracking. "Am I in trouble?" She rushed over to me.
"Gosh no!" She said taking my hands. "You have given me hope" she took my hands in hers, I could feel the age in her hands, the experience in her touch. But most of all I was inspired by her kindness.
"I can't help but feel as if something horribly wrong is going to happen" I said. Looking off out the window. There was dark clouds rolling in over the mountain.
"I feel a change in the wind" Helga Said. I looked at her. Neither of us have any chance in knowing what lies a head. But it feels good to know that somebody feels the same way.
~*~
"Helga" I call stepping in to the house draping my cloak over the back of a chair.
It's been a week. A week with no word, no sign and frankly no connection with the outside world. Helga has kept me hidden in this house only allowing me to step outside to feed the chickens if I keep the hood of my cloak up. This week has been the most difficult. The town is under reconstruction and I hear voices I recognise out side the house everyday walking past. I only catch snippits of their conversations and Sven is even involved. Where is he?!
"Helga?" I call again. Maybe she's out. Might I chance it and try to get to Svens long house? Approaching the front door I reclaim my cloak and sling it over my body. Once the latch is undone I dart for the road. The loneliness I've felt this past week has wrecked me. I only need to know he is safe. The wrenching in my heart hurts and I often spent nights wide awake clawing at my chest. Lifting the hood over my head I continue to walk into the rain. It's heavier today than it has been in a while. Maybe god feels my pain. Maybe he cries for me.
As I walked I kept my face hidden from the passerby. My face scared slightly, up along the right side of my jaw and lip. I felt ashamed of my horridness, but I had to see Sven. What if his absence is his way of telling me he doesn't want me because I'm not beautiful? My body felt as if it was being torn apart by that. I quickened my pace. The grey sky over head rumbling.
I rounded the turn that lead to the house. And there he was. I stopped. My moth hanging open. Standing in the rain. Throwing an axe at an up turned tree trunk. His bare flesh being pounded on by the rain.
"Sven!" I called before I could regulate
myself. He turns to me. I push the hood off and just stand there at the fence. His hair plastered to his back and his eyes red rimmed. His trousers saturated and baggy with their water weight. He drops the second axe and comes running. I smile and unnoticeable due to the rain tears spill down my cheeks. I throw out my arms to him and he lent over the fence to engulf me in his grasp.
"Saoirse" he said nestling his face into my neck. His cold nose burning my neck. His hulking figure covering me from the rain. I look up into his eyes and see loneliness. Emptiness. I, placing both hands on his face I push away the wet hair and lean up to him to gingerly place my lips on his. He hungrily accepts me. Biting his bottom lip I push for farther closeness. His reaction was to give way to my demand. The taste of him floods my mouth and warms my insides like a strong ale.
"Why did you leave?" I ask when he set me back on the ground. The rain running down my face, my skin feeling slick with it. He adverted his eyes.
"Come inside" he says brushing his thumb across my cheek, his finger lingers on the scar across my lip. I walk briskly to the gate and rejoin him on the other side. He ushers us into the house and once in side I drop the wet cloak onto the floor.
I stoke the fire and watch as he approaches. His skin glinting in the fire light. His eyes were dark and his walk screamed confidence. He walked as if he was stalking down prey. His large hand lifting up my chin. My breath escaping me as I took in the look of sheer attraction is his eyes.
Leaning down to me his mouth capturing mine, his free hand slinking around my waist. The fire poker slipped from my hand as he deepened the kiss, it's loud clatter went unnoticed. The world was so loud, my heart beat raced and my breath in between his kisses ragged.
"Lay with me, Saoirse" he whispered. His forehead resting against mine. He was giving me the option but there was no way I could refuse. My body hummed and the moistness between my thighs directed me in my thought and action.
"Don't leave me waiting" I cooed. Stepping back, shaking with nerves I lead him toward his pelt covered bed. His lip puckered in a smile, a small bust of confidence entered my blood stream and I felt alive.
Once in the dimly light room, of witch only had two candles my eyes adjusted. My hand slipping from his. Trailing it down his damp chest I reached the saturated cloth of his trousers. Fumbling with its draw strings I managed to get it undone. He pushed the top of them down over his hips. I glanced up at him. His eyes focused on my face. Could he see my apprehension?
"Don't be nervous" he said.
I swallowed back and aided him in sliding down his trousers and there he was. In all his Scandinavian roughness. His perfectly sculpted body, indented with scars and adorned with inked tattoos. I glanced up at him once more, his confidence outstanding. I in turn shakily untied the strings of my apron and then was stopped as I reached for the back of my neck.
"Let me" his voice rumbling lowly. He guided me round, my back to him gave me a few seconds to compose myself. Breathing out, my breaths trembling as I did. His hands brushed my hair over my shoulder and he then trailed a finger down my neck. The ties were undone and he loosened my dress. Throwing my arms up over his shoulders behind me he gathered my dress up in bunches in each hand. I could feel him, his shaft pressed into my back. An excitement buzzed in my body as he pulled my dress over my head. The air whooshing around me, freezing my skin.