raven ↠ vikings

TWELVE

PART TWO
four years later...

The sounds of death and clanking metal echoed in the summer air as I shoved my sword into a man's chest. Dirt and blood covered almost every inch of my body. Most of the blood wasn't mine. I only had a few cuts and bruises. I had lost count of the men I had struck down with my blade. They came one after another, each one with the same fate against my sword. Ragnar trained me well; too well, some would say.

I turned around, looking for Ragnar in the battlefield. Only a few of the Eastern men remained. We were near the coast of a place called Bulgaria for the summer raid. Four years had gone by without Ragnar ordering another raid West, and I was far beyond disappointed. He knew everyone in Kattegat shared the same desire as me to return to England. He avoided the question every time I brought it up. 

A large man with a long beard started to run at me with his spear raised. I let out a sigh as I pulled out one of my knives and threw it with force at his face. It landed right in his forehead, and he fell over dead. I walked to his body, pulling out my knife and wiping the blood off on my armor. I glanced at his lifeless eyes, remembering the first time I ever killed a man two years ago when Ragnar finally let me come with him on a raid. Killing someone was easier than I thought it would be, but sometimes the faces of the dead haunted my dreams.

People in Kattegat talked all the time about how I was growing into one of the sharpest Viking warriors. Fighting came naturally to me, and my reflexes were quick like a cat's. I was stronger than most of the girls my age, but Ragnar told me that I was too arrogant sometimes. Like he could talk about arrogance. 

I saw him walking above the dead. He seemed injury free. His axe was covered in crimson blood. I slipped my knife into its sheath as I watched him scan the field. Several men had already started to go back to the boats with our large haul of stolen treasures. It took many of them a long time to respect me, but after they watched me on the battlefield, their doubts subsided. I saved many of their lives over the years, and they returned the favor, but I wasn't one to need saving much. 

As I joined Ragnar's men at the boats, I spotted Rollo cleaning off his sword. This was his first raid since he betrayed Ragnar. I kept a close watch on him because I didn't trust him after what he did. No one should. He shouldn't have even been on the raid with us. Ragnar gave him too much freedom, but Rollo was trying to make up for what he did. 

I stood beside him at one of the boats. He kept his eyes on his sword, "You fought well today, Raven."

"I know," I answered. 

"I'm beginning to understand why the gods favor you," he glanced at me. "You're a ruthless warrior."

"So after four years of treating me like I'm below you, you're finally going to be nice to me?" I asked. 

"I have to," he answered as he attached his axe to his belt. "You're family."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise as he walked away. Did Rollo just refer to me as family? He really was trying hard to make things right. I still didn't trust him though. He envied Ragnar too much to ever be loyal.