THE TYRANT : VOLUME 1

Chapter 10 | He Dreams of her Flight

Góa 16th, 893 FS.
WAXING CRESCENT
Teittú́rú, Unknown Region.

The cold breeze riddled her skin with goosebumps.

She wore a thick, light tan gown that hovered above the ground. It kept her safe from the breeze, but her neck and arms were a penetrated fortress. The leather belt around her waist kept her gown from flowing excessively.

Walking in a new pair of sandals, the noblewoman followed the tall female Viking ahead of her.

It was midday, and the village shimmered under the warm sun's light. Despite the lack of clouds in the sky, the breeze from the vast sea kept it cold.

The village was lively. Children ran down the wooden pathways, chasing each other with wooden swords, and carriages pulled by massive wolves forced the duo to stay close to the fences, separating the path from someone's property.

River made eye contact with a passing wolf. His sea-blue eyes held more intelligence than the average canine's. His ears and nose twitched before his gaze swept off her.

What River found strange was the way the wolf looked. His back legs were strange- as if they were longer than they should be.

Leaning her head up, she could smell the heavy load of vegetables hidden inside the sacks on the carriage. They rumbled and bumped, a man following close behind with a shaven stick to keep them from falling overboard.

Freydis continued once the carriage passed, but River's brows furrowed. Why did those vegetables smell so strong that she could sniff them?

Brushing her arm against a fence, she hissed and whipped it toward her torso.

Looking back, the Viking smiled empathetically, "Careful with them cuts," she warned, "Ain' needin' any stitches comin' out."

The Viking smith wore dark brown trousers, a black tunic, and a short sheep cowl to keep herself warm. The woman's leather apron was tight around her body, considering she just finished working on a war axe.

"Mhm..." River hummed, nodding in agreeance.

The carriage turned down a different path, revealing the end of the road they were wandering down. The vast sea was shown with no end in sight.

A massive and broad quay was on the edge of the beach. Market stalls were set up adjacent to the water, packed with goods ranging from food to weapons. Docks sprouted from the quay toward the water, impervious to the harsh and salty seas.

River was in awe of the gigantic Viking ships tied to the docks. Men and women tended to them, loading them with goods or applying repairs.

Dodging the crowd of Vikings and foreigners alike, she kept her injured arm close to herself.

It was bandaged nicely, but healing would take a while. It sounded like Vikings heal much faster, but she had no idea why.

Freydis kept looking over her shoulder, ensuring River was still behind her. It seemed she wasn't the type of woman to make the same mistake twice. The noblewoman appreciated that.

Slowing down, she parked them off to the side to ensure they weren't stuck in the crowd.

"'Tis the market," She introduced to River, patting her shoulder reassuringly, "You gon' havta know it at some point, so why not show ya now?"

Turning away from Freydis, the pale woman's gaze swept the market.

A large stall was straight ahead. Hanging from tall posts and hooks were whales with chunks of flesh and guts cut out alongside upside-down brown creatures with fins and a dog face. Their whiskers were longer than a finger.