Frida

Chapter 3 - Coward

Frida awoke to a soothing sound of water splashing close to her, a couple of ravens croaking out far above her, and a musky yet very comfortable smell surrounding her. She scooted herself even deeper down under the soft covers that Lady Liofrun had provided her with, and wondered what they were to have for breakfast. She hoped that the chickens had laid fresh eggs, but she knew that it might be wishful thinking. Their hen Crikith, that she had named her, was getting old and lazy, so eggs were a luxury these days.

She felt a couple of drops of water splashing on her face, and she sighed out. One drop quickly made its way to the corner of her mouth, and she stuck out her tongue to catch it. Salty.

That was weird.

But then it dawned on her.

In panic, she threw her eyes open and quickly sat up, heart achingly realizing that she was not in Lady Liofrun's house. She was not even near land anymore.

She tried to lose the covers but found her hands tied up as well as her feet. When she looked around her heart almost stopped. Thirty men or more sat before her, all lined up and rowing. She recognized one of them. Big and bearlike, with a great brown beard and dark eyes. The Norsemen...

She panicked even more, and she scooted around in her covers with blood rushing for her ears.

This is not happening, this is simply not happening.

A slithering voice, that made her blood freeze, called out from behind her: "Ragnar! Kom."

Frida looked to her left and let out a scream of surprise and terror when she saw the man, who looked like the Devil himself, right beside her. His eyes turned quickly to stare into hers. He sniggered demonically, and she felt her stomach turning, as she noticed him sitting with a knife in his hand. Death had not conquered her yet, but maybe what was coming was even worse.

Lord, she prayed for the first time in years, if You are there, please, I regret every thought, exclamation or anything I ever did to anger You. Forgive me.

The words rang for her ears and it was not long before her body recoiled heavily. Acids sprayed from her mouth, and she tried to reach for the edge of the boat but was too late. She felt the devillish man shift away from her as she continued to vomit until she had nothing left in her stomach.

Nauseous, she turned her head up to look at a man who had placed himself in front of her. It was the heavily braided man. Ragnar, as she came to understand it.

He was smiling, as he said: "You should not be afraid of Floki, he is our joker."

Many of the Norsemen started laughing, Ragnar included, as she once again laid her eyes upon the Devil-man. She could feel her throat tightening and a prickling sensation at the corners of her eyes, as she watched the man named Floki take a bite from a black, salted fish.

"Here," she heard Ragnar say calmly, "drink."

The braided man named Ragnar handed her a weirdly shaped cup that she soon recognized to be the horn of some animal. A big animal. Only out of instinct did she reach for the cup and swallow its insides. A sweet but also stale taste spread out over her tongue, and her nose wrinkled automatically. The liquid was thick and sticky in her throat. Floki commented loudly on her reaction to the drink, causing the Norsemen to laugh at her once more. The fluids made her stomach bubble, just like wine always did, but this felt nicer and soother.

"Where am I?" Frida croaked and took another sip of the sweet horn.

Ragnar smiled at her and sat down beside her, putting his arm on the fabric covering her.

Fur, she thought to herself, really, really thick fur.

"The question is not where you are, but where you are going, yes?" Ragnar expressed with a smug smile as he looked out over the boat's edges and to the great sea before them.

Frida let her eyes fall down and swallowed loudly. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see that there was not only one boat, but many boats. And many Norsemen.

"Yes," she managed to say with much effort.

Ragnar did not answer her. He just sat there staring out over the horizon, at nothing in particular. After a while, he breathed: "I have questions too."

And then he pierced her with his blue crystal eyes. They pierced right through her and gnawed at the back of her skull, making her dizzy. She felt the same warm sensation from back in the church spreading through her system, like cauldron smoke filling up a room. But this time, she did not become unconscious, however, she was still unable to break her eyes away from his.

She thought about Lady Liofrun and all the other villagers. What happened to them? What happened to me? WHY am I here?!

"We killed not the woman who cried for you," Ragnar said as if he knew what she was thinking, "We spared many lives. But we killed the priest. For he was a coward."

Ragnar broke their eye contact as he turned his head to look at Floki, and Frida exhaled deeply. Thankfully. She had no idea how come this man's eyes had such an effect on her. What had happened in the church?

She could not recall much, only that she had walked up to him with a strange warm feeling pounding through her veins, and when she had looked him in the eyes... Blackness.

"But you," Ragnar continued curling his lips, "You are not a coward."

Frida looked at him with her brows furrowed. She did not understand this man's thinking. Have they brought me here because I was brave? How on Earth does that make me anything special?

"But," she started out, but she was soon interrupted by Floki who hissed out angry foreign words at her, making her shut her lips quickly in obedience.

She might not know what the man was saying, but he surely did not like her saying it. Ragnar reached out and put a hand on Floki's arm while speaking to him, soothingly. It sounded as if Ragnar was trying to convince Floki of something, to remind him. But of what she had no idea. 

Ragnar stood up before reaching out his hands with something for her to take. Her stomach churned as she received a black salted fish that still was intact, its dead eyes staring at her, and she looked back up at Ragnar while feeling her mouth water up like it always does before you vomit.

"Eat," he soothed, "There is still a long way to Kattegat."