I bend my head as the heavy iron collar around my neck weighs down heavily on my shoulders. In front of me, I recognise Raina from my tribe. Opening my drudgy eyes, I see that the two men Vikings that have brought us are distracted momentarily, I kick a stone at Raina's heel, she turns, smiling quickly. We both wince as we are slapped by a woman coming up behind us. Laughing, she turns to the men who brought us here.
"These ones should be sent to work for the cheif, he needs fresh slaves- the others are dropping dead. Stupid Celtic flith," she hisses at us, her wrinkled face becoming a series of jagged creases, her eyes flashing anger. Fury rushes through my veins, what right does this woman have to think she is better than me? These people killed my mother, pillaged our treasure, killed our revered druids, and sold the rest of us to slavery. Raina is being dragged off by the woman to present to their cheif. I do not hold out much hope for her, it is said that he choses young girls around fifteen winters for one specific reason. Sadness swarms through my body, a similar fate awaits all of us from my tribe. A man comes up to me, yanking my hair, causing me to bite my lips to prevent me from screaming.
"I'll take this one," he says, his breath stinking of mead, as I am detached from the other slaves, and yanked by my throat to a hut just outside their feast hall. I desperatly claw at the band of iron around my kneck, desperate to be free from it. "Stop." He rasps, smacking me so that I fly ten feet backwards. "You'll be washing with the other Celtic woman filth," he laughs, his bloodshot eyes watering, "Enjoy your time with the other hags."
YOU ARE READING
Sorceress
FantasyThey came at night, angry and lustful for treasure and slaves. We stood no chance. I lay in bed, completely oblivious. Then I heard the screaming. Aine O'Connell has been captured by Vikings, and forced into slavery. Then one day everything changes.
