The Seer's Child

Ruthless

Kingdom of Northumbria- 804 AD

Waves crashed against the side of the boat, rocked by the turbulent waters and cold wind as spray soaked them.

With sixteen on either side, the oarsmen worked with perfect synchronicity, cutting through the choppy sea with incredible speed and endurance. 

They kept close to the shore, avoiding rocks in the shallows as they navigated south. When the cliffs came into view, they dropped the sails to prevent being seen. They were so close and Tualla hoped her plan would work.

Since their fight, Tualla had seen noticeable changes in Torsten and his men. They treated her with respect, like one of them and Torsten trusted her knowledge of Elnwich enough that he didn’t scout the area beforehand. With the high elevation and strong fortifications, sacking Elnwich wouldn’t be easy, but Tualla had seen their weaknesses. They had to strike fast, before Edwin could call for reinforcements.

“There,” Tualla said, pointing at the horizon and Torsten signalled his men. They maneuvered closer to the shoreline, using the cliffs to keep them hidden.

Upon their approach, the men jumped into the shallow sea. Following their lead, Tualla did the same, gasping as the icy water came up to her waist. A wave crashed into her, almost bowling her over as she helped haul the boat onto the narrow strip of sand.  

Staring up at the cliff face, Tualla listened out for any signs they’d been spotted, and when all seemed quiet, the men armed themselves. They threw their shields over their backs freeing up both of their arms and equipped themselves with axes, spears and swords.

“Ready?” Torsten asked and Tualla nodded. He gave orders to a few of his men who then spread out to relay the message to the others. With a disciplined swiftness, they moved into formation at the base of the cliff and began to climb, heading for the gap in the palisade. 

Some used their axes to create something to hold, driving it deep into the rock, and Tualla prayed the rock wouldn’t give way.

The first few men made short work of it and Tualla followed, scaling the surface until she reached the top. 

Using Tualla’s directions, Torsten instructed a group of men to find the church while the other men passed torches around, setting the nearby houses alight. With their weapons poised, they positioned themselves by the exits, waiting to butcher the saxons as they fled.

The first screams brought a smile to Tualla’s face. She revelled in their panic and confusion. 

They deserved it. Every single one of them. 
But she couldn’t rejoice yet. Not until she had Edwin. 

Shooting every saxon on sight, Tualla broke away from the norsemen and made her way to the great hall. Already an inferno, the building creaked as the roof collapsed. He couldn't still be in there, could he? No. The gods wouldn't deny her that. The havoc must have woken him up. He would be out there fighting somewhere. 

As she methodically searched the town, she heard a crow behind her. Spinning around, she released her already notched arrow, hitting a man in his chest.

He dropped to his knees, staring at the arrow protruding from his chest before lifting his head to see his killer. "You!" 

Osric stared back at her. 

"Where's Edwin?" 

He spat blood at Tualla’s feet. "I should have gutted you when I had the chance."

With as much force as she could, she reared her leg and kicked. She heard a satisfying crack when her foot connected with his face. “Where is he?”

Osric rolled onto his back, blood staining his teeth as he laughed. Tualla knelt on his chest, putting all her weight onto one knee. Grabbing the arrow, she repeated the question.

He cried out, choking on his own blood, but he lifted his head and stared at her with defiance. “I hope… he kills you… you pagan… bitch.”

She wouldn’t be getting her answer. As much as she’d like to torture it out of him, Osric didn’t have long left in this world so she slit his throat before resuming her search.

She’d lost count of her death toll as she combed the entire town, but still no sign of Edwin. By the second sweep, the buildings were reduced to smoking piles of rubble. With few places to hide, Tualla had to wonder if he’d made an escape. He didn’t seem the type to desert his town and leave his people to fend for themselves.

She’d almost given up when a dog began barking and she recognised it as Edwin’s. A moment later, the dog yelped in pain as she followed the sound. With a dead dog and a few slain men at their feet, Torsten and two of his men were restraining the man she wanted. 

Hatred consumed her as she stared at the mighty Lord of Elnwich, tied up and at their mercy. “He’s mine.”

“Tualla?” His eyes lit up with recognition, then turned to revulsion as he realised the norsemen posed no threat to her. “Are you with these barbarians?”

“Funny you should say that,” Tualla said through gritted teeth. “Isn’t that what you thought about my people?”

“What? No!”

“Is that why you killed them?” 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said, bewildered.

Unable to control herself, Tualla marched forward and punched Edwin in the face. When he’d recovered from the blow, she kicked his knee, forcing him to the ground. Then dragged him up by his hair. “You must be surprised to see me alive.” 

“Tualla, I—”

She punched him again, and again, unleashing her rage until his face was a bloody mess. “You killed them! You killed them all!”

Edwin shook his head as he struggled to get up.  

“You liar!” Tualla screamed, kicking him in the face. “You slaughtered them.”

As she went in for another attack, Torsten held her back and shook his head. “Wait,” he told her, nodding at his men who proceeded to drag Edwin. 

She tried to push past Torsen to finish what she started, but he held strong. “Wait,” he repeated.

How dare he stop her! Furious, she met his icy-blue eyes which seemed to cool her off as she realised he had something planned.

Tualla walked alongside Torsten, feeling a slither of satisfaction at each bump Edwin had to endure as Torsten’s men dragged him through the town. They stopped by the church— surprisingly still in tact— where the rest of Torsten’s men waited with a flock of terrified saxons. They cowered with fear, children clung to their parents and when they saw their lord captured and defenceless, they cried harder. Some even prayed which seemed to amuse Torsten.

At Torsten’s command, his men began ushering the saxons into the church and barricaded the door from outside. She finally understood his plan as he passed Tualla a torch. The people inside screamed and banged on the doors as Tualla set the roof alight. 

When Tualla returned to Torsten’s side, he lifted Edwin’s head, forcing him to watch. “Let’s see how mighty your god truly is.”

They watched them burn until the building collapsed, and when the screaming had stopped, Tualla took Torsten’s sword from him. Standing over Edwin, Tualla raised the sword with both hands. “Where was your god?”

Edwin attempted to stutter something, but his chest wheezed and he sputtered blood. She swung, decapitating him with one strike, then held up his head, victorious.

Author's note-

Again, I apologise for the brutality and thanks for sticking with me. I can't wait for the rest of the story to unfold.

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