Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter XXIII - Heida

The blood eagle — is a ritualized method of execution in which the victim (always a member of a royal family) was placed prone, the ribs severed from the vertebral column with a sharp implement and the lungs pulled through the opening to create a pair of "wings".

When Heida arose from her pallet the next morning, she was struck by an odd sense of cloying presentiment that she could not rid herself of no matter how she tried to escape the feeling. Lying on her blankets had only aggravated the prickling sensation, and despite that it was yet too early to start the day, she did so anyway.

She was ofttimes the first to rise, and having a natural affinity for the sun which always made it impossible to continue sleeping once Sól had risen to carve her way through the heavens meant very little sleep in the summer time — when Nótt was wont to stay away.

Upon leaving Aila's tent, she cast her eyes first to where Roth had fallen asleep, but seeing the space empty she poked her head into their hut; and immediately wrenched her head back. Her nose puckered with the stifling fetor of stale flatulence, musty ale, and the malodorous stench of unwashed male bodies all amalgamated into an astringent perfume.

By the gods! She pinched her nostrils shut and backed away. 'Twas no wonder that Roth and Renic mostly slept outside!

Váli seemed to be the only creature about at this time of the morning. He lifted his large head from his black paws and considered her curiously as she passed him.

"Where do you keep disappearing off to?" She stuck her tongue out at the beast and left him where he lay almost camouflaged beneath the shade of a spruce, his ghostly eyes following her as she left the camp site.

Where his masters had got off to she could only guess at, for she had seen neither of the brothers within their smelly barracks, a fact which thence spurred her off towards the brook where she thought they might be swimming. Why the wolf was not with them, she did not know. He was an odd thing, either trailing Roth or Renic like a faithful shadow or off on some solitary excursion.

However, when she reached the babbling stream she was surprised to see that there was no one about, and so took the opportunity to hike up her skirts and wade in the cool water. Would that they could leave today and be home in two days! She was not only anxious to see Brenna, but also to have herself a decent bath, seeing as privacy was hard come by in this populated valley of Tingdal.

She allowed the pebbles to massage her soles the while she slogged through the shallows, her shift and outer garment bunched at her thighs, letting her mind drift as she watched the ripples expanding wherever she moved. She should have been a fish or water fowl, since she loved the element so much. But I must go back lest I give Eirik cause to berate me again. He might even now be looking for them. And I promised not to go off alone.

With a lorn sigh she turned around and made her way back to the bank, faltering suddenly when she saw three pairs of eyes watching her from the shore. Arnar and his brother Gisli were snickering amongst themselves as Søren flicked his eyes uneasily between his childhood playmate and his impressive new friends.

Despite her distance, and their low whispers, she heard them as easily as though she were an owl, and was thus prepared for trouble when she gained dry land.

"What say you to a little fun, brother?" Arnar was the eldest, perhaps eighteen years, and the largest of the three. His girth had not quite reached that of his hefty father, Thorgny, but it was easily assumed, just by looking at the lad, that he would surpass even his sire in brawn and bulk.