“Get the fuck off of her!” Alexavier roared.
He ran toward us and ripped us apart like we weighed nothing at all.
“What’s going on in here…” Alrik demanded from the doorway.
Zaphori burst into crocodile tears. She flailed toward the elder and clung to his neck.
“That man tried to abuse me. He tore at my dress….and then I caught that… that whore in the furs with my husband. Look! She bears his child. She bewitched him! I trusted her with my family and she brewed bastards in my absence!” Zaphori shrieked hysterically.
“That never happened,” Alexavier firmly insisted. A crowd had gathered behind Alrik. Our proclamations of innocence were overshadowed by Zaphori’s torn gown, bared breasts and messed up hair.
“It is as my wife said. I made a mistake,” Einar said, adding just enough shame to his voice to sway the crowd.
A few of the elders let themselves inside. A pair of them approached me, one on each side. My heart thundered in my chest and I grew light headed. I knew they meant to apprehend me, I just couldn’t decide what I was going to do about it. I either needed to dart for the door as instinct demanded or surrender myself to the inevitable.
I closed my eyes, unable to condemn myself to a cage. Instinct battled with reason until tears burned in my eyes. It had to be now! I threw myself forward. Fingers sank roughly into the fleshier part of my upper arms. My subsequent scream provoked Alexavier to land a deafening crunch to the jaw of the man closest to him. He moved for the opening he had created, desperate to get to me, but three men were already on him.
I had heard tales of berserkers. We all had. But I had never seen one in action. Even from my position of being pretzeled and pinned, Alexavier was a sight to behold. His face twisted into a mask of fury. He threw the man on his right toward the crowd and hurled the one on his back over his head. The table caught him momentarily before it cracked, then roughly depositing him to the floor.
The last man standing got the brunt of his handiwork. Alexavier beat the man mercilessly until someone hit him in the back of the head.
My world collapsed along with that blond-haired berserker.
They dragged his unconscious body from the cabin and led me away in chains behind him. I had nothing to smile about, but I laughed until I cried at the sight of Zaphori’s home. It looked like a fucking rubbish pile.
Thane
Osanna sobbed so horribly I couldn’t understand what it was she was trying to tell me. Certain someone was dead, I tucked her safely inside the cabin and ran full force toward the circle. I stopped and gasped so hard I choked when I noticed the crowd gathered around Einar’s house.
My heart dropped into my stomach and my feet became anchors. She was dead in there. I just knew it. Everything good always gets fucked up for us. My head hurt, and my heart raced.
When they dragged Alexavier’s slumped body from the cabin, each breath became a struggle.
Fuck.
When Alrik lugged Zhenni out like a common outlaw, my leg gave out and I ended up on one knee. Whispers and lies swirled around me until I pieced together what had happened. Rage, fear, and more emotions than I could name paralyzed me until my vision blurred with murderous tears.
“They will be held to those new Galena laws. Watch, I bet you… they kill both them kids,” a stout older woman mumbled to another grandmotherly sort.
“I demand it, the Saxon penalties!” Zaphori wailed.
“No one fucked your husband, and no one touched you,” I loudly countered.
“You have no idea. You were not in there with them. You’re only saying that because he is your brother,” the observant old bird beside me quipped.
I glowered at her and the other gossip mongers before weaving my way through the crowd after my brother and Zhenni.
A familiar voice wailed in the distance, jarring me from the fog of it all. It was my mother. Many of the faces I had seen in the crowd earlier had gravitated around my parents’ yard. I shoved my way through them, no longer able to control myself.
I raced into the cabin to find my mother rocking on the floor with my father’s head cradled in her lap. I would never forget that day, or the ligature lines she tried to hide around his neck. No one else noticed them, but in my hyper-aroused state, I did.
I sank down the wall and watched from a detached perspective while men trailed back and forth offering to help her carry out the body. She denied each request. I’m sure she suspected I would help her, but I was too disgusted by all of it to be bothered. The only reason I chose not to speak up was because, for all I knew, she and Thorne were the only family I would be left with.
Things had to slow down.
I rose to my feet and pushed my way through the crowd again.
***
The next morning, I awoke feeling like I had spent the night too deep in the ale. It wasn’t the case, but I hadn’t slept much, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had eaten. I nibbled on a bit of sweet bread and dressed quickly. I needed to speak to Alexavier and Zhenni. I had to figure out what the fuck was going on.
People stared as I made my way toward the hall. The conversation dulled to a whisper when I entered, and everyone glanced toward the back where Alexavier and Zhenni were huddled in a stall.
“I wish to speak to my brother,” I said, wholly expecting a confrontation.
Alrik rose from the elders’ table and waved his hand in welcome. He led me down the aisle to their stall and tipped his head.
“Fifteen minutes,” he offered, waving his finger. “No more.”
“Fuck off,” I growled, turning to face him. A few of the men at the other end of the hall made a point of trying to appear tough and gave hard looks our way.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Zhenni whispered, gathering my hands into hers.
“It’s not okay. They mean to kill you two!” I hissed.
“The Galena punishment for rape is a whipping. I heard Veleif and Alrik chatting about it earlier.” Alexavier snorted. “Let them give it their best.”
“At best he will be ordered to make a sacrifice, at the worst…” Zhenni trailed off, tipping her head toward Alexavier’s prediction.
“Then why are they whispering of an execution?” I sighed.
I felt like a coward with my hands trembling in hers. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. It wasn’t right her being tucked away in there like an animal.
“Because adultery is a heinous offense in Galena. It is considered…” Zhenni patiently began.
“I couldn’t give a fuck less about Galena’s opinions,” I informed her through grit teeth. She quieted so quickly I was left feeling like an asshole. I shook my head at a loss for words. “You didn’t commit any adultery. You didn’t lay with Zaphori’s husband.”
“You’re right. I didn’t,” she admitted.
“Alrik!” I barked. “Veleif, someone get down here. For fuck sake. This is bullshit. She didn’t fuck anyone’s husband. She isn’t carrying Einar’s bastard. She fucked me, okay? Can we get her out of there now? It is mine. The child is mine,” I lied. It was all boiling past anything I could control or live with. I didn’t even know how to tell Alexavier about Father.
“She is a whore, and my wife will have justice!” Einar proclaimed loudly, as if such a statement wouldn’t have harmed him if it were true. His wife appeared in no hurry to divorce him, and the Galena officials who had lingered behind didn’t seem interested in laying any of the reported blame at his feet.
When I left, I headed to Zhenni’s cabin. I wasn’t interested in the mess Trysta had made. The household was Thorne’s issue now.
My thoughts got away from me, and I slammed the door so hard Osanna screamed when I entered. It was all I could do to hold both hands out in surrender and not baptize the child in a storm of shocked curses that were not meant for her.
I set her up with a bit of broth and began to sharpen my dagger. She held the bowl with both hands as if its warmth gave her some sma
ll comfort. Each downward swipe of my blade against the stone brought another vision of her father’s last breath before me. It almost made me feel guilty when I caught her staring. I feared she could read my thoughts. The child had, after all, been able to see the Goddess. Perhaps she was a favored one. I studied her until I cursed my own paranoia and hunted the wine jug.
When darkness finally crawled across the village, I tucked the child into Zhenni’s furs and let myself out. Her mother was no doubt searching the village for her. It served me, so be it. I kept my head low, hoping the less eye contact I made, the fewer witnesses I would leave.
The road in front that separated my family’s yard from Einar’s was ignored all together. I still didn’t take the chance, instead I circled past it and approached from the rear of the yard. The animals were long since used to my presence. We were there more often than Einar, after all. Through the window over the bench, I noticed him nodding off at the table. I waited out there for a while, to be certain that Zaphori wasn’t inside with him. I had no quarrel with her, and even if I did, I’d never killed a woman and wasn’t interested in starting.
The door opened with ease. It made almost no sound at all, thanks to my brothers and I looking after the place. He snored pitifully. A deep lumbering sound that made my throat hurt just listening to it. It was a rush to know he was at my mercy, but I wanted much more. I wanted to see the fear in his eyes, the realization that it was over, and the desperation that I suspected would linger on his last breath. I undid my belt and pulled it from my waist.
“You’re a worthless specimen. Odin will not have you in his hall, and let’s face it… you’re to foul to fit in anywhere else.”
His eyes shot open with the sound of my voice. He planted his hands on the table and tried to shove his way to his feet. I was quicker. The belt was pre-looped and slid over his head effortlessly. An impatient jerk snared his neck within it, and he began to make the ugliest of swine-like noises. I stared down into his eyes as the fight waned into panic and he surrendered to helplessness. When his arms were so loose I feared he would stop fighting, I let go. He sank back down onto the bench and gasped for air. The relief was palpable—it even shone in his eyes before the end. I buried my dagger into his belly button and jerked it upward.
Alexavier
Zaphori’s blood curdling screams ripped me from my sleep. Zhenni scurried from my chest and climbed onto the narrow bench. I needed no such assistance to see over the high set window of the barn. The men were running toward Einar’s cabin, and women had gathered around the distraught, sobbing woman.
“By the Gods, do you think it is the girl?” Veleif, exclaimed, grabbing his axe from the wall. He stormed out the front and flew past our vantage point. Moments later, he fled Zaphori’s house, only to empty his stomach on the path beyond.
Women wept openly, and men began shouting. Demands for justice and an end to the madness hailed from one end of the village to the next. The Galena-style horse and buggies were in rows that staked claim to most of the halls’ grazing lands.
A man in an obvious wig scrambled about, promising that the guilty would answer for their wrong doings today. Dawn started to break, and those who weren’t already gathered, trickled out toward the circle. A few moments later, a body wrapped in a bloodied shroud was carried from the house. It was much too large to be either of the children. The way Zaphori stumbled and blubbered after it, I knew it had to be Einar.
“Fuck…” I whispered in surprise. Zhenni’s hand settled like a breath on my shoulder and we watched on as Zaphori hauled herself off the men and whirled to face the crowd. She began to shout and point in our direction. The way she grabbed at her gown left no doubt that she was retelling her fabricated tales.
“I wish they would let me go out there. I would tell them all how it was I who bared her chest. On accident when we fought. She attacked me, and I am with child…” Zhenni whispered through her tears. It was the truth, and it sounded so simple to tell, but we both knew that crowd didn’t give a damn about the truth. They wanted their pound of flesh; but at the rate the violence was accumulating, I was starting to worry that they might demand a whole damn body instead.
“Right, then.” The very plain sounding English drew closer. “Get him out. Matter of fact, would that you get them both. It will do her good to see how evil doers are dealt with here in Galena.”
The men trailed down the length of the hall. Any moment, the doors would open. I turned and scooped Zhenni into my arms, giving her the longest hug I had ever exchanged.
“Be strong,” I whispered before they grabbed my arms and jerked me backwards. It was unexpected and sought to inspire a response, which I, of course, gave them.
I twisted about and cursed the lot of them. There was no reason at all for their force and disrespect. They wanted to punish me, so be it, but they could at least give me the dignity of walking to their damn magistrate. I thought that was what I had heard Veleif call the Saxon Elder and Executioner. Who knew.
The light blinded me, or maybe it was the shock of the open air that caused me to shut my eyes and gasp for air. I felt naked… every eye in the village was on me. Including little Osanna and Sven.
“Take your sister. Go,” I yelled to the boy as I was dragged past.
He tried, but she struggled, and we moved along before I could tell if his efforts were successful or not. Alas we reached the circle and I was shoved to my knees before the man in the prim and proper wig. It was piled higher than the fancy women we had seen on our way to the village that first day.
“Alexavier,” Veleif called.
I glared up at him, each breath fanning the urge to disarm the coward and end him with his own fucking weapon. He knew it was a farce. They all did.
He continued. “You stand accused of the assault and dishonoring of the woman Zaphori, what have you to say?”
I sniffed, sat back, and finally raised my head to stare the wrinkled man in the eye. He blinked and averted his gaze.
“There is nothing to say. It is a fucking facade. I only grabbed her…” It was all I managed before Zaphori began to shriek.
“He openly admits to taking me, do you all hear?”
“I oath to you, before the Gods and men… the only woman I took without asking was Zhenni. And yet you punish her while that jealous woman stands free.”
It was a lie. I had never forced myself on her, nor would I ever, but it was the only thing I had left. I had to try and protect her. I knew she hadn’t lain with Einar. She hated the man.
“Do with me what you will,” I growled, when they seemed unmoved by the facts.
“Oh, we will.” The man in the wig assured me before nodding to the men who still clung to my arms. I shook them off me and threw my arms out to show my lack of threat. They didn’t care. Perhaps it was the humiliation of it all that they were after. They snatched ahold of me again, and two more started toward us to help them. I sighed and forced my anger back down.
“You are found guilty,” the wigged one announced before starting toward the forest. The men followed along, dragging me with him. The crowd parted, then filed in behind us. A sea of voices swallowed me. A haze of faces. Screaming and wailing carried me to a place of piercing silence.
The Saxon nearly collided with my mother. She jabbed her finger into his chest and began to shout words that I was deaf to.
“You sent my first born to that cursed city. The lot of you watched as I burned my husband last night…” Her arms shot out to her sides and her mouth gaped in an ugly fashion. “Now I am to suffer this as well. You would take my youngest son?”
I had no idea what she was talking about. In fact, I completely missed the part where she wailed about losing me. All I heard was the mention of my father’s pyre. My father was gone. The realization buckled my legs. It was of little consequence, they dragged me toward the thickest tree in her yard and ripped the tunic from me. It was left to drape over the back of my pants, while my arms were stretched around
the tree.
Mother sank to the ground and covered her mouth with her hands. Zhenni struggled violently against the men who held her. I wanted to hold her. To tell her it would be alright. I had survived worse. Fuck, I had probably dealt worse to the men who originally tried to apprehend us. Surely it took them longer to recover than it would me from a lashing.
“I will challenge you before you will lay one lash on him with that thing,” Thane swore. His voice was loud but carried an unmistakable tremble. The sound of that tremble lit up the bottom of my spine and raced toward the base of my skull. I turned so abruptly I scraped my cheek on the thick rough bark I had been left to hug.
It would have been an exquisite weapon on the battle field. In fact, I admired it as such for a fraction of a second. The most intricate of carved handles rest in Alrik’s hand. From the bottom of the handle, a length of linked metal hung in the shape of a sword. The edges had been sharped until they caught the sun’s glare and glistened just as a sword would have.
I blinked and struggled to gain control of my racing thoughts. A cold sweat broke out as the man began to semi-circle toward my back.
“Thane. Good of you to join us,” Alrik scoffed, before calling to his enforcers. “Place him into custody for the murder of Einar.”
My brother drew his sword. It sounded like a Clydesdale was thundering toward us when he approached, but they were prepared. Men rushed him from either side. They collided so hard that Thane’s breath was audibly knocked from him.
My mother spat toward him, immediately drawing my attention toward the odd gesture.
“I’d be ashamed of him too. Slaying a man who was still recovering from the fevers.” Alrik laughed.
The fevers.
My breath hitched, and I stared at her so long that I wasn’t really seeing her at all when the whip cut across my shoulders. The excruciating blow left me hanging at his mercy against the tree. I knew I had been struck, and I was aware that I was badly injured, but after I gnashed my teeth in preparation for the second lash and felt the blood splatter over my flanks, it was all a blur. Everything except the flutter of butterfly wings against my cheek. The sensation grew until it was the soft unmistakable pressure of a hand. The scent of honeysuckle overwhelmed me and the wind itself whispered against my ear, “She is mine, and you are hers. Do not be afraid.”
Between Mortals and Makers Page 10
