Spirit Warrior - The Son of the North

Son of the Seasons - IIIII

The temperature has been going up and down lately, creating a lot of fog, making it difficult to watch the herd of sheep. One morning three sheep was gone and there was a huge hole in the fence.

All the men and slaves have been called together to find a solution to the problem. I inspect the hole in the fence from afar. It's too big to be a wolf, and no wolf would have the power to break though it anyway.

The footprints say it all: it's a cave lion. None is known to live on Tethys Island, though cave lions can swim a long way. They normally live in caves on the mainland, but when there is ice on the ocean then they cross it to find food. Then problem for this one is that it can't get back to the main land because of the changeable weather. The islands around are also known for hosting cave lions and one must have been seeking food. Our sheep are perfect.

Skeld is the first one to speak up. "One of the thralls must keep watch." I fall in with the back ground looking at the chaos. No one wants to be chosen.

Someone has yet to volunteer, but when no one wants to go freely, So Skeld casts lots; none of the slave are happy about letting the small bone pieces decide their fate. The thralls frighten from all senses. They know that it's much likely that they'll die if the cave lion decides to show up again.

The uproar rises. The unlucky thralls try to fight off the freemen, pushing them in the direction of the herd. I close my eyes, trying to block out the screams of fright. I draw a deep breath, "I volunteer," My voice is hoarse from the lack of use. Everyone goes silent around me, all the faces turns to face me. Their eyes widen when they see it's me who was the one to speak.

"Very well then... good luck," He's too shocked to say anything else, and to tell the truth, I'm just as shocked as he. I don't know what possessed me to volunteer. Maybe the fact that I'm utterly alone.

I've have lost both strength and weight after Eska has gone to the afterlife. It's the first time I've been standing on my unsteady legs for some time now. I've felt sick to the pit of my stomach, and I don't know why. One of the young slave girls walks up to me and I recognise that she's the daughter of one of the slaves that was chosen in the first place. Her steps are cautious and worried I gaze at her from the corner of my eye.

She has her arms behind her back, are holding something, which makes me guarded. I turn to look her dead in the eye, and she stops dead in her tracks. She has short dark hair; it's probably been chopped short by the men to show everyone she's a slave; I can see why they would do it. She looks nothing like a slave, her lips are full and her skin is fair.

As I eye her up and down I can see the clear shape of a woman under the rags. The fat she has on her body does her good; it gives her the right shape. I have no idea what a beautiful looks like, but I have seen the other young men in the village eyeing her lustfully so she must be beautiful.

I cannot deny her curvy body makes me shiver lightly, and thinking of my night with Eris I would much rather have spent it with her. I relax my stance a little, looking less frightening or that's what I'm hoping.

She opens her mouth to draw in a shaky breath; she does not make a move, she only lets the shaky breath back out. Tired of waiting, I stalk closer to her, still keeping my distance, but close enough to intimidate her.

"What do you want?" I'm actually slightly surprised by the way my voice sounds. It's hoarse from lack of use over the last few weeks. She jumps slightly at my question, grapping the item in her hands so hard her knuckles are turning white.

"I... I wanted to give you this," she says, shoving, what I can now see is a knife into my hands. I look up at her, narrowing my eyes slightly in suspicion.

"Why?" I ask her in a hard voice as I walk around her. The breeze plays with her short hair, giving me a whiff of her intoxicating smell. She smells like grass and forest, not like the other slaves, or me, for that matter. She smells like a freewoman does. She smells like fresh air. Everything about this woman makes me tingle with desire. She has me spell-bound without even trying.

"Take it as a thank you for sparing my father... He may look strong, but he's been weak at heart ever since my mother went into the afterlife, he's been a shell of himself, no longer the same man. If he were to fight a cave lion, he would have given up beforehand. I'm happy to have my father a little while longer."

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. She cares because of her father. She because of her father, not because she cares about me. No, she could never care for someone like me. How could she? I'm nothing but a pathetic monster in her eyes.

Every muscle in my body tenses up; I start clenching and unclenching my fists, trying to control my temper. "Rest assured that I did not volunteer for the sake of your father..." I say wryly. I narrow my eyes dangerously at her. I can see she's surprised about the way I lash out at her, but I do not care; I will not care.

I clench the knife hard in my hand once before throwing it to the ground at her feet. I cast one last look at her before I turn on the balls of my feet and stomp away angrily.