Uninvited

Nanina stopped breathing again, praying they would ignore her, believing the noise was nothing but the rats. The largest of the men returned to the cell door. The other two stood just outside. “Theo, you will not find what you seek in there. All I see are rats.”

“Then you need to check your eyes. There is a very large rat hiding in the corner. Look for yourself,” Theo said as he pointed his battle-bloody axe into the corner where Nanina crouched. She tried with all her might to keep herself still.

One of the other men looked again, into the corner where she was, and gasped. “There is someone there!” he called to the third man.

“Yorick, are you seeing things, or are you mad?” Turin, the third man asked his friend.

“No, there is someone there.” Yorick stepped, splashing urine and stagnant water, toward the huddled mass in the corner.

Nanina cowered even further into the corner, clasping at the wool, and trembling with fear. She did not understand the men, but it was clear they had seen her.

With nowhere to hide, she sat upright and looked at the invaders. “Where is my family?” she asked in her own Keltic tongue. The men laughed at her speech.

“She is but a woman,” Turin said and spat in the wastewater at her feet. He reached down and grasped what he thought was her arm but instead caught the top of her head, pulling her to her feet by her hair. “Who are you?” he asked.

Nanina looked frightened beyond tears, but she stood her full height and thrust her chin forward. She, of course, had no knowledge of their language, so she stood silently in front of the three, very large, Vikings.

“What is your name?” Yorick asked slower, as though slowing his speech would make her capable of understanding his language.

Theo looked to his friends and smiled as he shook his head. “She will not understand you.” He looked at the woman. He pointed to himself and said “Theodor Nass.” He then pointed to Yorick and Turin and told her their names. Once he introduced the men, he pointed to her.

Nanina was a bright young woman and understood what he wanted next. “Nanina, daughter of Dormund,” she said proudly. “Where is my father?”

Theo did not know what she asked. Instead he scowled at the woman who, although tall for a druid woman, dwarfed against the height and girth of the Vikings. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her abruptly from the dungeon cell. Her feet slipped on the slimy chamber floor and nearly fell, but Theo tightened his grip and pulled her to his chest. His body noted the softness of her curves against his hardened warrior muscles. His mind pushed the lustful thoughts away—for now.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked him, pulling back against his grip. He merely tightened his hold on her and pulled her from the dungeon.

When they reached the steps, he shoved her forward, following Turin. Yorick brought up the rear after Theodor. She took two steps up and slipped on the slime stuck to the soles of her boots. Again, Theo rescued her from falling and held her by her hips as she continued up the stairs and onto the grassy earth above. She slapped at his hands. Theo laughed and squeezed his fingers into her soft skin. She swallowed a shudder, refusing to show them she was afraid.

When they reached the top of the steps, Nanina looked around. The land littered with the dead, both Celt and Viking. She let out a sob and lifted her hand to her mouth. The blood-drenched grass showed no sign of life. She kept her father’s cloak wrapped closely to her head and body, leaving only her eyes exposed. The Viking invaders thought this was unusual.

“What is wrong with her face that she keeps it hidden?” Turin asked.

Yorick shrugged and reached past Theo to tug the cloth from her head, but she held it tightly beneath her chin. Theo pushed Yorick’s hand away. “Leave her be for now,” he said. “I will ask her questions.”

Yorick nodded and lowered his hand. “I suppose we will not know, Turin. She must be hideous beneath that cloth,” he joked.

Theo glared at his friends and looked at the back of the small woman who was still walking slowly, trying to absorb the destruction around her. Not a single small hut left standing; they smoldered with fire and smoke. She blinked her eyes almost continuously, fighting back tears and burning from the fires around her as she identified more and more of her family and clan through the blood and mud of the battlefield.

“You killed them all!” she screamed, turning, and lifting her small hands to pound against her captor’s leather vest. “You didn’t even leave the children! Why do you leave me alive? Why am I not also dead?”

Theo looked at Turin who shrugged. They knew she was clearly upset but could not understand her language to answer her questions.

Suddenly Nanina jumped and ran forward crying loudly. Theo reached for her but missed. “Father! No! You cannot be gone!” she cried out, falling on her knees beside a powerful-looking man. “You had so much strength. These Vikings could not have killed you! There are only three of them!” she lowered her head into her father’s chest and tried to hear his heartbeat, but he was gone; already cold.

Theo put his hands gently on Nanina’s shoulders and tried to coax her from the man’s side. “Come. You should not have to see this,” he whispered into her woolen cloak. He inhaled before he stood with her. She held the odors of the dungeon; that of stagnant water, human waste, and rot, but there was a hint of flowers, not an unpleasant scent. He closed his eyes and tried to name the flower as she shoved him away.

“She stinks, Theo,” Turin said. “We don’t know how long she was in that hole,” he added.

Theo nodded, but he felt heat in his cheeks as he recalled the hints of pleasant flowers. He reached toward her again and held Nanina’s shoulders in his large hands. “I think that was her father. A great warrior,” he said.

The other two men nodded, agreeing with him. “We will bury him in a grave of his own, with honor, and burn the others,” Yorick said to Theo and Turin. “Do you have a shovel?” he asked Nanina as he gestured in a digging motion.

She glared and flung her arm out harshly, pointing toward a burned building not far from where they stood. Turin looked guiltily toward the hut, certain there was probably not a shovel worth using in the burned-out ruins.

“You will be using a stick to dig, I see,” Theo said. “We will give the man an honorable burial and will pray to our gods that he has safe passage to Valhalla.” Nanina had no idea how they were honoring her father’s strength as a great warrior. She only knew he was dead and they were saying strange things.

The three men walked, Theo dragging Nanina, toward a tree a distance from the death and ruined huts. Turin stabbed at the ground with his broadsword while Yorick used his axe to break the ground. Flat rocks became scoops to remove the loosened dirt. Nanina began to panic, thinking the men meant to bury her alive.

“No! I will not let you do that!” she struggled and cried out, she no longer thought about hiding her terrified tears.

Theo looked at her curiously and then realized, based on where her frightened eyes were looking, that she might have thought they meant to kill and bury her. He turned her toward him, never letting go, and shook his head while pointing from her to the hole in the ground.

She calmed a bit, but the tears refused to stop flowing. Theo thought he might be able to get her to calm if he could cool her skin. He reached for the cloak still wrapped around her head. She turned her face away and tugged the cloth tighter around her face.

“She must be very ugly,” Turin said. “She hides her face with determination.”

Theo nodded and Yorick left them standing there to retrieve the body of Dormund, son of Davit. He carried the man to the shallow grave and laid him into it. The man’s sword rested across his chest before dirt covered his grave.

Nanina’s bright blue eyes looked at Theo, startled by their unexpected treatment of her father. When completely covered, the men used the flat rock to tamp the dirt tightly around him, Theo closed his eyes and said something in his own language. His voice was deep and soothing, much like vocal velvet.

Lo, there do I see my Father, and

Lo, there do I see my Mother, and

Lo, there do I see my Brothers and my Sisters and

Lo, there do I see my people back to the beginning, and

Lo they do call to me, andbid me take

My place among them in the halls of Valhalla,

Where the brave will live forever.

The cadence of his voice was rhythmic and calmed Nanina. She instinctively knew he was speaking a prayer.

Nanina bowed her head and prayed to hergods to grant safe passage to her father’s spirit.

Come spirits across the ocean

Join with your brother who waits here

Take him across to the bright land

Take him across moor and meadow

Take him across a calm sea

Take him across a blissful ocean

Peace and joy on the day of his death

As he finds his way to the white sun.

When they finished reciting their prayers, Theo grabbed Nanina’s arm again and pulled her harshly from the grave. He looked around for a stable hut to enter. “Where do you go, Theodor?” Yorick asked. “Are you looking to enjoy your war spoils?” he added and wagged his eyebrows at Nanina.

The young woman gasped, knowing full well what that gesture meant. “No!” she cried out again and bit Theo’s hand. He released his hold and she began to run. Within two steps, Yorick and Turin caught her.

“Witch!” Turin said and backhanded her across the face for what she had done to his leader. “You bit him? Are you an animal?” he asked.

Nanina’s eyes flashed with heat and anger as she looked from one man to the other. She glanced at Theo and saw he held his hand, blood streaming between his fingers.

She grinned at him, showing she was not sorry for hurting him. He walked to his cohorts and grasped her arms again. This time he pulled a length of rope from his belt and tied her hands behind her back.

Theo held the long lead, pushing her forward toward the only building standing, the one she had been hiding below.

“You want to bite like a dog; I will treat you like one.” Theo pushed her down to her knees. “Crawl!” he commanded.

Turin and Yorick laughed and teased the woman. She did not know what they said, but she knew they mocked and hated her. In her heart, she knew they could not hate her nearly as much as she hated them.

She crawled with difficulty, her gown halting her progress with each step on her knees. The wool, once wrapped tightly around her face, now fell loose and she cursed the men who tied her and who could now see her if they chose to look.

Theinvaderswere behind her so they could not see her face. She lowered her head, so her hair covered most of it. She led them, tied at the wrists, to the large building and then moved to stand so she could scale the steps.

“No. You will crawl,” Theo said again, and pushed down on her shoulders to keep her on her knees. “You wish to be an animal, so be it. I will toss you like a dog into the hall.”

She fought the urge to turn around and glare at the men, determined to not show her face. Turin stepped in front of the others to open the door. He chanced a glance at her face. She turned her face down quickly but not before Turin got a good look at her.

His eyes opened wide and a large smile crossed his lips. Before him was a beauty without compare. Even through the dirt from the dungeon and the hair fallen across her face, he could see she had fair skin with a few freckles. Her bright blue eyes framed by long, deep brown, nearly black lashes. Her nose was straight and slightly up-turned at the tip. Her hair shone with health. It hung down her back to below her hips in loose curls. Her lips were full, even when they sneered at him.

He looked to Theo and Yorick. “I don’t think she hid a hideous face,” he said. Theo’s eyebrows rose.

“I do not care how she looks. She is nothing but a Celt witch. She is an animal who deserves to be treated as such,” Theo said; refusing to look at her face. He already felt his body’s reaction to hers; he did not wish her beauty to distract him.

They went into the building and Theo looked for the dogs. The dogs had either died in battle or run into the woods when the Vikings attacked. Though they saw no dogs, it was clear where the villagers kept them when inside. Theywould have lain in front of a large fire pit in the center of a great room. He used the bottom of his foot to push Nanina into the room, still on her knees. She fell to her stomach and rose again, glaring at Theo who smirked at her. When she crossed the doorway, he cut the bindings loose.

Nanina sat, rubbing her wrists for a moment before Theo pushed her forward with his foot. “Crawl like the dog you are.” Theo pushed her toward the pit. “You will sleep here until we decide when you will die.”

Yorick, surprised, looked at Turin. He whispered from the doorway once Theodor was too far to hear. “He doesn’t mean to kill her, does he?”

Turin shrugged and both men left the room in search of a place to lay their heads.

Theo tied the rope to her wrists, looser this time but still tight enough she would not free herself. He tied the other end to the rusty iron grate surrounding the pit. “Sleep,” he said and pushed her to the ground. She could not catch herself; her hands were behind her, so when she fell, her cheek hit the iron grate, cutting the skin from her nose to the base of her eye across her cheekbone. She clenched her teeth to keep from crying out. The bloodstreamed down her cheek to her throat.

Nanina continued to look down so that the men could not see her face. She did not want them to see her, she did not want to give them a chance to know her as the daughter of the clan leader. She did not want them to be in her home. She did not want them to see they had injured her. She refused to appear weak.

She shook her head, so her hair hid most of her face, curled into a small ball, her arms uncomfortable behind her, and closed her eyes to sleep.

Theo, once satisfied Nanina was sleeping, left the fire pit and walked to a table. He sat on the floor and lifted his legs to rest on the broken table. He looked around the room, pleased with what he saw.

“I am glad we did not damage this building. I will claim this as mine,” he said, leaning back and resting the back of his head on the palms of his hands. “This is a good place.”

A noise sounded outside. Horses rode across the burning grounds. Theo ran to the front door just as Turin and Yorick appeared from the back of the building. “Who is it?” Turin asked.

“Kjell,” Theo said without turning around.

The other two groaned, Turin fingers combed anxiously through his hair. “We have lost this plot of land if Kjell has come.”

“Kjell Salomon! Welcome to our spoils,” Theo shouted to the commander of the northern army.

“Your spoils?” Kjell laughed at Theo’s presumptiveness. You took this village by yourself then?” Kjell jested, the man to his right chuckled. “And by whose authority do you keep these lands?”

“By my own authority and that of spoils of battle. I won this battle and as I lead this meager band of warriors, I will take the claim I am entitled,” Theo said. Turin and Yorick nodded behind him, both holding their sword hilts, waiting for a fight.

“Well, certainly you will allow me and my men…” Kjell gestured to the seventy-plus men behind him “to partake of your…ah…spoils.”

Theo looked to the men who stood behind Kjell. “Ulf,” he nodded to the man at Kjell’s right. “You will not be taking anything with you when you leave tomorrow.”

Ulf’s face turned red from his neck upward. He glared at Theo and began to unsheathe his sword but the men standing behind Theodor stood straighter and looked very dangerous. Ulf moved his hand from his sword’s hilt.

“Now, Ulf, I am certain that Captain Nass only means to ensure that he has first take,” Kjell explained, reaching toward his right-hand man.

Ulf coughed and nodded. He pulled his horse back half a length behind Kjell’s.

“Now, as I was enquiring. Show the hospitality my rank deserves? I hear the druids are a very hospitable bunch.”

Theo looked at the men and then back to Kjell. He nodded. “You come. The rest of you, stay outside. The weather is fair.”

There was a collective grumble from the men behind Salomon, but Kjell raised his hand. “That is fair for this night. Tomorrow we will see better accommodations.”

“Tomorrow you will ride from my spoils,” Theo said matter of factly.

Kjell looked at Theo, expressionless. “We shall see.”

Theo nodded, hiding his expression behind his stoic warrior’s mask.

Kjell and Ulf entered the large hut after Theo. The large Viking would not show the woman tied to the fire pit and walked quickly past.

“What is in there?” Kjell asked, pointing at the doorway they passed.

“Nothing. It is full of broken furniture and flooded with water. We did very thorough work destroying things,” Theo said.

Kjell only half-heartedly accepted the answer but decided he could explore later. “Do you know this place, yet?”

“Our battle is still fresh on our tired bones. We have buried our dead to send them properly to Valhalla. Our duty to them is paramount. We have not been inside for more than a few minutes.”

Turin and Yorick rushed to the rooms they had laid claim to. Their exit did not escape Kjell’s notice. “Where are you going?”

The men did not turn around, but they stopped.

“I will see these rooms,” Kjell commanded. The other men drooped their shoulders in resignation. Turin sighed and nodded.

Kjell followed the men to a large chamber holding a large, comfortable bed. “Very good. I will stay here.”

Theo shrugged to his friends and looked at them apologetically. “Then where will my men sleep? They claimed this room first.”

Kjell smiled, it was not a friendly action. “Ah, but rank has its privileges, does it not?”

Ulf tried to push past the other three men, but Theo stood in the doorway, his shoulders taking too much space for the smaller man to pass through. “You will let me pass, Captain,” he ordered.

Theo looked into Ulf Rasmussen’s eyes, and Ulf took a step back. Fire shot from Theo’s hazel eyes, the browns becoming dominant, only overwhelmed by the gold shades that sparked when Theo angered.

“Ulf. You will not enter this room. Find your own,” Kjell said to his second.

“But…” Ulf tried to object.

“No. I will rest here. You find another place to lay your ugly head.” And an ugly head it was. One of his eyes lost to battle, he had a large scar from his brow to his jaw on theleft side. A part of his nose gone, sliced off in another battle, leaving the side flat. Thirst blistered and scabbed his lips; only fifteen teeth remained in his mouth.

Theo, Turin, and Yorick left the two intruders to argue and returned to the large hall where Nanina slept. “We need to take the woman from here and keep her out of sight,” Theo said to the others.

“I will be happy to hide her in a new chamber of my choosing,” Turin offered, recalling the beauty he glimpsed earlier.

Theo shrugged. “Do so, then.”

Nanina was lying on the floor; she had fallen asleep from exhaustion, sadness, and terror. Theo got his first good look at the woman then. Her features were delicate and perfect, except for a large bruise on her right cheek and a cut across her left cheekbone. “What happened to her?” Theo asked the others.

Turin recalled backhanding her when she bit Theodor. He told Theo as much. “But I do not know how she has that cut,” he said. “Maybe she fell against the grate,” Turin guessed. “Are you certain you did not hit the woman?” he asked.

“I would not…” Theo said, and then stopped himself. Who killed the women and children on the grounds? Who slashed at anyone and anything with blind bloodlust? He knew he was one of many Viking warriors who slaughtered the entire population on orders from Kjell Salomon. His own blade had killed the woman’s father, the chieftain.

Theo looked at the sleeping woman again. He growled and cursed himself for his part in damaging the perfect face. He knelt at her side and cut the rope from her hands.

Once released, he wrapped the wool cloak around her body and picked her up. “Show me to sleeping quarters.”

Yorick and Turin turned away from where Kjell and Ulf still argued and trudged, heavy feet and heavy heart, upward on stairs outside of the building. “We haven’t been here, yet, but I sawmen descend these stairs during the battle,” Yorick told Theo who nodded.

He scaled the stairs easily, even with Nanina in his arms. When they reached the upper level outside of the building, there was indeed a door into a small room. Inside held a bed, table, and chair. The bed was not nearly as grand as the one in the chamber Kjell claimed for himself, but it would hold him comfortably.

“What will you do with the woman?” Turin asked. “I should like to take her to a room with me.”

“No, I think she will stay with me. I will watch her,” Theo said. Turin nodded.

“We will leave you to your…spoils, then,” Yorick said and tugged on Turin’s arm. They left the other two alone in the private low-tower room.

Theo put the woman on the floor near the table, ensuring the cloak covered her. The dusk air brought a chill to the room. He lit a fire in the small fire pit across the room and sat down.

He removed his weapons and sat, pulling his boots, leather vest, and shirt off. He turned the covers back on the bed then sat on the edge in his leggings and stared at the sleeping form of his prisoner. “What will I do with you?”

He looked to the door and noticed a bolt. He stood and bolted the door, picked up the rope and tied it to her ankle and then to his wrist. “You won’t run from me, little witch-dog,” he said before lying back on the bed and closing his eyes.

He fell asleep quickly.

Morning came, and Nanina awoke, stiff and sore. She reached up with her hands, realizingsomeone had untied them. She touched her face with her fingers and winced, the angry, jagged cut across her left cheek was swollen and red. Her vision blurred from the left eye. Her head turned toward the bed and realized where she was. She stared at the over-large man snoring on the mattress.

She started to panic but took a deep breath and stopped to think. She looked around and saw the Viking’s weapons on the table near where she slept. She stood and took a step toward the table to pick up the dagger that rested nearest the edge. That is when she felt the rope around her ankle. It pulled against Theo’s arm, waking him.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, pointing to the weapons, and shaking his head. “There is bigger trouble outside the door,” he told her and pointed to the door, shaking his head again.

Nanina sighed and sat on the floor. She crossed her legs and arms and glared at Theo. He bit back a smile but released a small chuckle. So much fire and hate in her eyes, he stood and crossed his arms over his chest to show her he would not be afraid of the little witch.

“What will I do with you?” he asked the same question from his lips the night before, reaching for her. She scuttled under the table and curled into the smallest ball of human she could manage.

“Suit yourself.” He untied the rope from his wrist and tied it to the foot of the bed. “You will stay here…for your own safety.” He pointed from her to the room in general and then pulled his boots on.

He took his weapons from the table and left the small room, bolting the door from the outside. Theo whistled a tune as he left.

He found the location excellent. Outside the door, he could see for leagues in many directions. Kjell’s troops lay on the ground near the burning buildings for warmth. The morning dew brought with it enough moisture to extinguish many of the smallest fires. The wooden huts were nothing more than rubble and ash, now.

Theo shook his head. He regretted the destruction he and his men had laid upon this land. He felt sickened by what he had done the days before. Too many died.

“Theo,” a man called from below.

“Turin. You are awake?”

“Yes. It is hard to sleep in this place. Those men kept trying to come in. I stood watch. I didn’t think you would want them to steal your food and ale.”

“No, I do not suppose I would want that. There are ample stores?” He had not gotten further than discovering the woman in the dungeons the day before.

Turin nodded.

“I think this is a good holding. I think maybe my work as a warrior can wait a while, so I can lay claim to this land.”

“What say you, Theo? Getting too old?”

“I am thirty-one. What say you?” Theodor asked.

“That is not old. You still have at least ten more good years in you.”

Theo laughed, a healthy and hearty sound, which caught Nanina’s attention. She felt her heart thud in her chest and her breath caught for a moment at the rich, joyful sound.

“Let me out of here!” she called, pounding on the door.

“Your spoils call for you, Theo,” Yorick said, reaching the others.

Theo turned to the door and glowered. “She makes too much noise. The others will hear her.” He turned to the door and opened it. Putting his finger to his lips, he tried to command the woman to stay quiet.

Instead of stopping, she called louder, screaming, and cursing in her native Gaelic.

Her shouts roused the menon the grounds and Theo felt strange panic in his chest. “She has to stop screaming,” Turin said, looking from the men in the bailey and back to Theo, his eyebrows raised in fear for the girl.

Theo nodded and bolted through the door, clamping his hand over Nanina’s mouth. She tried to bite his hand, but he stopped her by resting a dagger at her throat. She stopped struggling.

Theo had Turin untie her leg and he led her, stooping low, to the edge of the wall. He pointed to the men below. She looked at them and then back at Theo.

He forced her head back to the men and then grasped her breasts and then her womanhood harshly, glared and pointed to the sleeping Vikings. He liked the feel of her breast in his palm. He coughed to clear his head.

She stopped struggling and nodded. He cocked an eyebrow and she nodded again. Theo removed his hand from her mouth and she clamped her lips shut tightly, still glaring at Theo.

She whispered angrily. “If you had left us alone, I would not be in danger of rape,” she said and turned, walking back into the small chamber off the battlements.

Theo’s friends grinned at him, and he shrugged. None of them knew what the woman said, but it was clear she was not a timid mouse. The girl was a warrior.

“She said you should have left us alone,” a stranger, covered in dirt and grass, spoke from their side.

Theo jumped, drawing his sword. “Who are you? How do you speak our language?”

“I am a priest. I try to convert heathens to Christianity. They are not very receptive,” the man said, shaking his head.

“What is your name?” Theo asked.

“My name is Gregor O’hEaghra, at your service,” the priest said, bowing.

“I do not know how you learned my language, but you will be at my service,” Theo scowled. “Now, come with me,” he ordered and grabbed the priest by thesleeve.

“I assure you, I will follow you peaceably. You have not harmed Nanina though I saw your destruction of this village. You have treated her well, and for that, I thank you.”

“What do you know of how she has been treated?”

“I listened at the door all night. You snore, did you know?” Gregor said and smiled.

“I know. Come. I need you to speak for me to the woman.”

Gregor nodded and followed willingly, especially given that Turin and Yorick were directly behind him, intrigued they might be able to communicate with the woman and learnmore of her.

Theo opened the door and closed it behind them.

“Nanina, I am so happy to see you live,” Gregor told her, rushing to her side.

Nanina lifted her head from her knees and looked up, surprise in her face. “Gregor. You live!” she said happily. She flung her arms around his neck before she realized what she did. She released him and spoke again, “I suppose you will tell me your God saved you,” she said wearily.

“I could tell you that, yes.” He chuckled.

“Enough. What does she say?” Theo asked.

“She says that she is glad I live and asked about my God.”

Theo nodded. “Ask her who she is to this place.”

Gregor looked at Theo. “I do not need to ask her to know that. She is the daughter of Dormund, Son of Davit, clan chieftain. She is Nanina Davitson, although she will tell you she is Nanina, daughter of Dormund.”

“So, she is of noble birth?”

“There is no nobility in these lands. Her father won his position through strength and agility in battle.”

Theo nodded, recalling the fight in the man who he conquered in battle. “He has been cared for. We buried him under a tree far from the others,” Theo told Gregor.

“I saw you. After the sun fell in the sky I went to his grave and prayed for God to take his brave soul to Heaven.”

“We prayed as well. He will be well cared for with all the prayers said in his favor,” Theo said.

Turin and Yorick became impatient. There was still no talk they could use to their benefit. “Theo, ask about stores, food, ale, wine. Discover if she knows how many people are still alive.”

Theo nodded to his friends and turned his expression to Gregor. The priest nodded and began answering the questions.

“You burned the food storage huts. You also burned the alehouse. There is some ale in the storage room off the large room where you tied Nanina, and some food in the cellars beneath that.”

“We have been in the cellars. They are full of water and waste.”

“No. That is where they put the punished. There is other storage built well and protected from rats and snakes. I will show you.”

“You are not free to roam. There are others here who would kill you before they discovered your value; I think you will be much more useful alive,” Theo said, stopping Gregor from exiting. “You will stay here with the woman. Do not touch her, priest,” Theo said, patting his hand against his blade.

Gregor’s eyes grew wide, Theo’s threat well understood. He nodded.

“We will search for food and ale stores near the large room below,” Theo said. The three Vikings left, the door bolted behind them.

“Nanina, listen to me, girl,” Gregor said once he was confident the Vikings were no longer on the wall. “You need to stay quiet. If you cry out, the men who have kept you safe will not be able to do it again. They follow the commands of a man I saw before. Kjell Salomon, they call him. He would rather rape and kill you. He would not be kind. I saw what he did to another who he discovered last eve’.”

Nanina asked, “Who?”

“Young Corona,” Gregor answered.

“Oh, no!” Nanina cried out quietly.

Gregor nodded and placed his hand on her shoulder. “She will suffer no more. He killed her when he finished violating her.”

Nanina hid her face in her hands and cried. It was all too much for her to bear. Her family and friends killed. She and the priest are the only ones who lived.

“Did you see my mother and brother?” she asked Gregor.

He shook his head and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe they got away,” he said, trying to give her hope.

She nodded and cried more, Gregor pulled her to him and he let her cry against his shoulder.

After what seemed like hours, she cried herself into exhaustion and fell asleep. Gregor sat in the chair and prayed to God they would be safe from the hoards outside and from the men who captured them.

The day seemed lost, as did their lives. Gregor knew, once the Vikings took what they wanted, they would kill both he and Nanina to make way for other Vikings.

He rested his head on his arms across the table and went to sleep, as well. He had stayed awake all the night before, afraid they would find him and torture him.