Something Stolen (Paused)

Chapter 2

My heart pulsed a rhythm in my head; Jittery, often skipping several beats. I felt dizzy trying to tear my eyes away from his, but I quickly found it impossible. Those eyes swept me away in their oceanic blue, drowning my resolve to look elsewhere. I'm trapped! I can't breathe. I didn't dare! Even when the darkness of unconsciousness threatened the edges of my vision, all I cared to see was the depth of the ocean storm bottled in his eyes. 

The spell, for I didn't know to call it anything else, finally broke when Captain Garlan cleared his throat, the sound stealing the man's attention from me with an exhausted blink. I sucked in the breath I had denied myself, teetering numbly as my body fought to remain standing. I devoted my attention to the rotting floorboards. I wasn't going to let that happen again. Once was enough to convince me that it was dangerous.

"This man was captured by my men just off the shoreline" Garlan began to explain, gaining a portion of my attention. "It hasn't been decided what we are to do with him just yet, and until we do your master has agreed to keep him hidden on his property."

"Why not a cell? Surely that would be more secure than here." It felt strange, being able to speak so freely. Garlan didn't show any sign of being offended, so I assumed it didn't matter to him if someone else's slave spoke out of turn or not.

"Considering the amount of damage he caused with his fellow men if the villagers knew he was here, they'd stop at nothing to get their hands on him." The pillager grunted in amusement. The captain shot him a glare. "Revenge is always hungry."

"I'm also hungry." the prisoner muttered to himself. It was the first thing he had said and the cadence of his voice threw me off. I had expected a Viking to sound gruff or barbaric, but he was neither. In fact, I found his voice to be rather calm and modulated.

I screamed when Captain Garlan's foot smashed into the Viking's unguarded stomach, sending him to the ground where he stayed, gasping and coughing. When the man regained his breath, he turned his smoldering look upon his attacker, baring his teeth like a kicked dog waiting for the moment to bite. But seeing as his hands were tied behind his back, he would have to wait. I looked between the two uncertainly while the captain bent down to his enemy's lowered position, lifting him up by a fist full of his short brown hair to make eye contact so as not to be misunderstood.

"My only orders are to keep you alive." He shoved the Viking's head pointedly before straightening to his full height with a sigh. 

Garlan's attention found me and I suddenly felt sick. I recognized the look that flickered across his eyes. It was the same cold way Mavrik looked down at his slaves moments before whipping them. Of course, he held every right to treat the invader as he saw fit, deep down I knew this. But where the bound man had made such a simple statement, I felt that he had been too harshly dealt with.

 I had stepped back several paces from the shack upon witnessing this display of abusive behavior, ready to flee if he chose to direct such aggressive advances toward me. But if I ran, where could I go? Mavrik would beat me with an inch of my life if my disruptive actions cost him his 15 gold. If I ran from my master's property, I was sure to be caught and returned to face the same punishment. The best thing I could do now is everything he ordered me to and pray he didn't find a reason to harm me.

"Lady Cara," he must have realized his actions had put him in a negative light. He considered me as one might a child "don't forget what he is. He has killed more than those who now lay lifeless in the street, stealing animals, crops, women, even children. Do you honestly believe a man like this should be treated kindly?"

I braved a peek at the Viking. He returned my attention without hesitation, those eyes of his betraying nothing. I nearly got swept away in their depths once again when I saw a glint in them that frightened me. No matter the calmness his eyes might show, there was a killer waiting patiently. This made Garlan's point. It made me want to vomit that I found myself agreeing with him. This man was a criminal. His crimes would earn him far worse than a kick to the gut. But even so, attacking a man who is already defenseless didn't sit right with me. Garlan continued to stare at me, proving that the question was not rhetorical. I tore my eyes away from the prisoner, shaking my head for the sake of giving the captain an answer.