The Revenge of the Viking Highlander
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Odin had blessed Gorm and his men with a fair voyage. A fleet of ships crawled across the churning sea, each one more terrible than the last, each one filled with warriors eager to claim honor and glory for themselves and the gods. They were ravenous, and their frenzy had been built up to a point where they each wanted to be the one to return with the biggest bounty and the most beautiful Highland woman—all except Gorm.
Gorm wasn’t interested in plunder. All he wanted was to leave the ground scorched, to teach all the Highlanders a lesson they would never forget. They were responsible for his father’s demise, the great Ivar Bjork, killed by some prisoner. It had been an ignoble end, and Gorm had used all of his patience before striking back at the man who had been responsible, the man and his pathetic excuse for a sister who had never listened to the lessons taught to her and had betrayed her family. The world was filled with traitors, and Gorm was going to make each of them pay. The Hoffstad clan itself had been traitors by forsaking their homeland for the Highlands. The thought of mating with a Highland woman made him sick; the thought of mixing his pure Viking blood with theirs made him shudder. They were a stain to be cleansed from the world. It was his divine purpose to do so, and he would bring glory to the gods by finishing the work that Ivar had started.
First, he would begin with the elder Erik, the man who had led the first voyage away from Norway with his brother, Ragnar. Ivar had already killed Ragnar, and now Gorm would finish the task. Soon enough, he would bathe in the blood of the Highlanders, and then he would return to his bride, Kari, his beautiful wife he had claimed for himself. He would make a gift for her, a reunion with the sister she missed so much. He would bring back Sigrid’s head and the heads of whatever bastard children she had sired, and the Bjork clan would rejoice, and he would be able to hear his father’s cries from Valhalla.
A cry came from the lookout as the Highlands came into view. It wouldn’t be long now until the Vikings would ravage the land. A thin smile curled on his stony face, and his hand fell to his sword. The taste of death was on his tongue, and he hungered for what was to come.
Brenda had not spoken much to Douglas while they had been riding. In truth, he couldn’t blame her. In her eyes, he had betrayed her terribly, and there was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise. He still harbored enmity toward Erik for having forgotten him in Norway, but at least he had not lost enough of himself to allow innocent people to get hurt. Brenda had touched a sliver of humanity that resided within him, and he was glad of this. He rowed so fiercely across the narrow sea that his muscles ached terribly. Sweat gushed down him in great rivulets while Brenda pressed herself against the farthest point of the boat, as though she was afraid that he was going to attack her. He wished she understood how much she meant to him.
They were about halfway to the island when she eventually spoke.
“What did they do to you over there?” she asked.
Pain flashed through his mind. Horror filled his vision. His skin crawled with echoes of beatings and lashes.
“Ye are better off nae knowing,” he said.
“No, please, tell me,” she asked.
He had avoided looking at her during this journey, but when he lifted his gaze, he saw that her eyes weren’t entirely cold, nor were they entirely empty of affection. When he spoke, his voice was a slow drawl, heavy with the pain that haunted him and burdened his soul.
“They lashed me, over and over again until my skin was sae covered with welts it was impossible tae sleep without being in pain. They kept me alone, leaving me out in the wind and the rain. They fed me on scraps like a dog, making me beg for food. They put me tae work in the fields and the mines until my hands trembled and my hands were broken. They starved me. They beat me. They forced me tae duel with them for their amusement, but I never haed any chance of winning. They let their wee ones beat me with wooden swords until I was covered with bruises.
“Aye, what ye saw over my body was nae from the sea, but from them. Two years of torture it was. Two years of what seemed endless. It could hae lasted a lifetime, but they came tae me and told me they haed a plan. They told me about Erik and all he haed done after he left, and I couldnae understand how he could hae left me tae rot over there. I pledged my sword tae him. I fought for him. And when I needed him, he left me.” Douglas became so agitated that he almost choked on the pain in his throat. “They told me I could get my revenge. They told me I could end the pain. And I dinnae care what ye think, but after two years of that, I would hae done anything tae end it.”
“But surely when they freed you, you must have seen an opportunity to get your revenge on them? It was they who tortured you, who caused you all this pain, not Erik.”
“Aye, but he was the one who left me there. And they kept telling me over and over again about how he prospered in the Highlands while I was left tae rot. Sometimes I dinnae know who tae believe. All I know is that I wanted it tae stop. Ye may think I’m a monster, and maybe I am, but I never thought I would feel this way again. I did nae think there was anything left in my heart but hatred, but ye hae shown me there is another way. Ye reminded me that there is a man still in here,” he said.
Brenda furrowed her brow as she reflected upon his words. “But wasn’t there any moment when you regretted your decision? You could have spoken to me or Erik. You could have done something different.”
“They blackmailed me, said that if I didnae dae what they wanted, they would attack my clan. At the moment, I’m the only thing standing between them and death, and I would nae be surprised if that shield haes gone, considering I hae killed Colby.”
His words were forlorn, and when he finished speaking, he looked across at the sea, not wishing to see the expression on her face as he feared it would break his heart. Talking about his experiences brought them all back to the surface. The pain was over, but the scars remained inside, and there wasn’t anything he could do to get rid of the marks upon his soul. Now he was faced with the choice of going back to them. He wasn’t even sure if it would be enough to dissuade them from attacking the village, but he had to try. There was too much suffering in the world, and Brenda didn’t need to be a victim of it. If he could take it upon himself to protect her, then he would. She was still young. She deserved the chance to live, a chance to experience all that had been taken from him. If he ended up a prisoner of the Vikings again, at least he had the kiss to remember. At least he could lose himself in dreams of what might have been.