SLOW LIKE HONEY - the last kingdom

2 - found

...

the early morning spring air felt heavy in my lungs as i breathed in and out, drifting back into consiousness. for a moment there was peace, i couldn't smell death, or fire or screaming. i had run. i ran! i did it. then i passed out. why did i run that much? why did i pass out? why can't i remember why? did i hit my head?

then it hit me. they had found me! how did they find me! rolfs words from the night before haunted my mind.

'i will always find you'

i shivered. had he found me? where was i? the bird chatter that filled my ears and the humid air that felt sweaty and heavy on my bare arms told me i was still in the forest. why hadn't they taken me back? if i was back i would be in his tent. his tent. tears swelled in my eyes as they fluttered open.

a man was next to me, my heart dropped. i gasped and tried to run but i had no strength and had to resort to attempting to crawl. the man seemed to notice.

'lord, she is awake!' he shouted at someone. that's odd, rolfs men never called him lord. only jarl or earl. come to think of it, i didn't recognise this man. never the less i used all my energy to try and get away.

'lord she is trying to flee!' he shouted again. 'badly' wow another man that liked to ridicule. tears ran down my face, i wouldn't do this again. i dragged myself further away, hearing footsteps behind me. spotting my pack, i remembered what mother had told me. the knife. i've already had everything taken from me, might as well go out on my own terms i thought. there is nothing left for me any more.

i scrambled for the knife in the pack and grabbed it by its hilt. i turned and pointed the knife at my heart.

i saw two men and a woman. the man who was guarding me had auburn curls and a scruffy appearence. the woman had cropped blond hair and the get up of a nun, but a sword in its sheaf at her hip. the man, who my guard must have been calling for, looked different. he had long hair and the appearence of a dane. thors hammer around his neck and a unique amber set in the hilt of his sword.

i breathed heavily, i hadn't drank any water in days, only when permitted by rolf. my throat was dry from screaming and i was on the verge of collapse. i tried to hold the knife with a firmer grip, but i was shaking immensely. i looked up at the trio.

'don't' the dane looking lord said, his accent wasn't as thick as rolfs.

' i-i can't do it again' i managed to let out.

his features softened 'please don't. we won't hurt you, i give you my word' he affirmed.

'what worth is your word? i can't do it, i won't do it again.' i breathed with a scratchy voice.

'what will you not do?' he asked as he moved closer and bent down to my level.

'be used- be -be. i won't-' tears streamed down my face.

'no one will use you. just drop the knife. don't do this, you will regret it' he said.

'how will i regret it? i'll be dead.' i almost laughed.

'you are saxon, are you not? raised christian no doubt? you will burn in hell for taking your own life.' he told me. he was close to me now, but not close enough to grab the knife.