"You cannot mend what's broken with false promises and pretty words," I retort, my grip tightening on the dagger that rests at my hip. "You claim to be a man now; then prove it to me."
************
Stjarna is a passionate Dane woman born during a ra...
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My body slams against unforgiving cobblestone with intense force, knocking the air out of my lungs. The impact of the fall ricochets pain deep into my muscles and bones as the mare begins to collapse back onto its hind legs.
Gasping for breath, I roll as fast as I can from the mare's direction of fall and press my palms into the ground to steady myself, the rope tied around my wrists cutting and piercing into the flesh.
Eiríkr bellows a warriors roar that blends into the screams around us before rolling the same direction, narrowly escaping the horse as it collides against the ground, even despite my silent prayer that the weight of the mare would crush him in the fall.
This is my chance. My only chance. Chaos rages around us and If I'm going to escape and find my parents, it has to be now.
The smoke around us is chokingly thick, and a ragged cough slips from my throat drawing Eiríkr's attention right to me. It only takes my captor half a heartbeat to determine the anguish in my eyes as his meet mine.
His nostrils flare as if he has read the realisation written on my face. I begin to scramble my hands and feet along the stones in an attempt to push myself back upright, but the blood seeping from the mare slickens the ground. So I frantically crawl. Crawl in absolute desperation to get away from him.
Eiríkr's hand yanks at my ankle, and I rip my head over my shoulder to find him already standing up right, heaving me back across the stone toward him. The rocks and mortar rip into my cheek and chest and I scream through the pain.
"You're not going fucking anywhere!" The fingers of his free hand grasp the back of my hair and spin me onto my back. Eiríkr spits at my face, but I don't bother to look up at him before I smash my heel with all the force I can summon straight into his groin. Mercifully, Eiríkr doubles over, releasing his clutch on my ankle to cradle himself.
Get up! I command myself. Run. Find your feet, Stjarna and run!
My feet find their balance, and I heave myself upright through my heels to turn and run, run, run. Run as hard as I can. Desperation drives me forward even when I stumble over my skirts and struggle to lift them with bound hands. My feet continue to carry me through the battle.
Smoke seeps into my eyes, the burn filling my troughs full of tears.
Metal on metal clangs and rings in my ears, mingling with wails of terror from children and villagers as Kjartan's men pursue their raid relentlessly, striking down anyone in their path.
I don't have time to stop while I try to navigate through the chaos. The smoke is so thick I can hardly establish my location and a path to safety. My heart races amidst the havoc and roars right into my ears.
I am too unfamiliar with Beornumbyrig, and I need to get to my parents as quickly as I can.
Fire burns rapidly across homes with thatched roofs and in between streets, leaving nothing but ash and ruin behind.
