"I bid you to remember the words of our forefathers. Fear nothing. Survive. Conquer."
Rated M: Violence and Mature Themes. Please be advised that this book may have graphic depictions of violence.
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Message from the Author: I just wanted to say that I appreciate all of your support for this novel. It is currently 2 in the morning and I apologise for any grammatical errors, but I really wanted to post a chapter for you today. Your comments are literally the only thing that keep me going, so I appreciate all of your lovely critiques. Love to you all. Xx
Torhyl walks through the streams of men rushing around her. She checks the condition of her ships and directs each man to a new job. Men and women rush around her in a mad rush to prepare the ships and gear for the journey back to Greece. They have to cast off as swiftly as they can manage to make it back to Greece before winter strikes.
Torhyl's mind is so enraptured with the thoughts of the souls lost in the massacre that she has not had the opportunity to rest. Her body is running on pure rage and the distant cry of vengeance for her people. She has not had the chance to think of much else.
"Commander!" A voice breaks her out of her thoughts.
Torhyl turns abruptly to be met with Ivar's confused gaze. Torhyl gives him a quick glance before continuing past him to pack the ships.
"Not now, Ivar." Torhyl speaks quickly, her mind too clouded with anger to focus on her developing feelings for the young man.
"I think now is the best time." Ivar shouts after her.
Torhyl stops in her tracks and turns to him. She strides back to him and crouches down in front of him. "What is it, Ivar?"
"What's going on? Why are you preparing your fleet?" Ivar motions towards the ships.
Torhyl's jaw stiffens at his innocent line of questioning. Torhyl gently massages the bridge of her nose. "Did your father not tell you?"
"I would prefer to hear it from your lips, Torhyl," Ivar speaks. "Why are you leaving?"
Torhyl rubs her eyes, her lack of sleep causing her eyes to ache. "War has broken out in Greece. The kingdom's army has managed to subdue the invaders to the surroundings of the main town, but in doing so, they have left my village unprotected. All those we have left behind...have perished in the wake of a war that was not theirs to fight."
Ivar takes in Torhyl's appearance. Her eyes are heavy with lack of slumber and her face is blank with emotion, but he can see the pain and betrayal that lies behind her eyes. It is almost as though the laughs they shared days before did not even happen, the pain of loss taking over her happiness once again and replacing it with sadness.
"Torhyl..." Ivar whispers gently. He tips her chin up with his finger to meet his eyes. "That is not your fault. You cannot blame yourself for this. It is the Grecians who have caused this tragedy and it is the Grecians who will face the wrath of their wrongdoings, not you."
