Gressa twisted her head to see Bjorn running towards her. She tried to call out to him, but no sound came from her mouth.
“Strian, we’ve searched for hours. No one has seen Gressa. They may have taken her.”
“All the more reason to search for her. Bjorn, I’m not leaving without my wife. Go without me. But I will not leave without her.”
“You have little choice. Ivar is ordering us all back to the boats.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Bjorn was incredulous. “You can’t say no to the jarl’s order.”
“I can, and I am. I already found my father’s body. Without Gressa, what do I have to return to? Nothing. I am not leaving without her.”
Gressa watched as Strian changed directions and started to walk towards where she hid in the bushes. She reached out her hand and called to him.
“Bjorn, shh. What was that? I’m sure that was Gressa calling me.”
Gressa held her breath before trying to yell as loudly as she could, but it was more a whimper than a bellow.
“There it is again. I know I heard my name.”
“I didn’t hear anything. Come on, Strian. We must go. Ivar won’t wait much longer.”
“And I told you, I’m not going anywhere without her.”
Gressa watched in horror as Strian drew his sword against his best friend, and in turn Bjorn pulled out his knife. They circled one another, but before the fight could begin, it ended. Leif and Ivar lunged forward and caught Strian’s arms as Bjorn, joined by Strian’s uncle Einar, caught his legs. He twisted and writhed, head butting Leif more than once, but he was no match for the four large warriors. They bound him and dragged him away.
“I curse each one of you. I will never forgive you for this. She is alive and nearby. I know it, and you’re abandoning her. May the gods curse each of you. I won’t leave my wife.”
Those were the last words Gressa heard from Strian even though his howls carried through the air. Anyone who had not seen Strian being restrained would have thought it was an engaged wolf baying at the moon.
Exhaustion had a choke hold on Gressa as the last dregs of energy evaporated along with her hopes of rescue. She regretted thinking the trees would offer her safety. Instead, they were her undoing. She closed her eyes and gave into the craving to sleep.
“Here’s one,” a whiny tone filled Gressa’s ears as her eyes fluttered open. She snapped them shut when pain surged through her back and leg. She gagged as the excruciating tingling and burning rippled from her wounds into every inch of her.
“This one is alive. Barely. I saw her fight. She’s worth keeping. She’ll bring plenty of money if she survives.”
Rough hands grabbed Gressa’s hair and lifted her head from the ground.
“Yes, this is the one I saw, too. Remarkable archer and would be good with a sword if she paid more attention to those around her. I was the one to cut her down. I claim her as my thrall.”
Gressa watched a middle-aged woman walk around her until the older woman’s toes slipped under her shoulder. Gressa could not swallow the groan when the other woman used her foot to push her onto her back. Gressa was in agony as her wound hit the ground. Any thoughts of responding were gone when blackness swallowed her once more.
Gressa had never been seasick, but she was sure she would be as her stomach pitched one direction then the next. She struggled to open her eyes as they felt crusted shut. Her tongue slid along her salty lips, and Gressa knew she was on a boat.
Various thoughts fluttered through her head, but the two loudest were that she did not know whose boat she was on or where it was headed.
“Mae hi'n effro.” A man’s voice floated to her. She searched her memory for the words she heard, but there were barely any memories to begin with, let alone ones in a foreign language.
“Who are you?” Another voice asked in her own Norse tongue.
“Gressa,” She mumbled.
“Gressa what?”
She refused to give any more information until she knew who held her captive and where she was going.
“Gressa what?” The voice repeated. After a long pause, a sigh followed. “You can make this easy for yourself or you can dig your own grave. I already know you are one of Ivar’s people, but you aren’t really Norse, are you?”
