Thorn Rose (PUBLISHED)

Chapter 2 - Humiliation

CHAPTER 2

She found herself, still unnoticed, right in the middle of the massive chaos. People were running past her with fear struck faces, the agonizing screams of women and weeping children as they desperately searched for their parents embedded itself in her mind like a painful memory.

She refused to understand the reason - if there was any - that God had allowed those pagans to taint such a holy place.

From behind the bushes where she was currently crouched, Faylin watched helplessly as they entered the church. Her beautiful, holy church! She shut her eyes tightly and clasped a hand over her mouth as an old man fell a few feet near her hiding place. His body was lifeless but his open eyes stared back at her without seeing anything.

Exhaling deeply through her nose, Faylin reopened her eyes and whimpered softly as strong hairy calves appeared in sight. Wide-eyed, she slowly looked up. A burly man crouched and pulled out his axe from the old man's chest. She quickly looked away.

After making sure the heathen had left, Faylin used her arms to crawl backwards. She knew the blacksmith's horse wasn't far from there, if only she could reach it, she would be able to get away from this living nightmare.

It was a risk she was willing to take.

Faylin lifted herself from the ground on weak limbs, bracing herself against the rough trunk of a tree for a mere instant, regaining her strength. The cries of despair rang out around her in a continuous spiel as she started running. Her hazel eyes moved from side to side taking in her surroundings. She was terrified, almost expecting some savage man to tackle her down at any moment, but to her good fortune, nothing happened.

By the time she reached the stables her knees were buckling with the fear that gripped her, but she wouldn't let herself fall. Relieved at her safe arrival, she allowed herself a small smile and looked over her shoulder, gazing upon the horizon with its flashes of bright shades of red and orange. She made a promise that she would come back with help. Faylin wouldn't desert them.

However, her happiness was short lived. Before she could set foot inside the stables, she saw that the wooden door was slightly ajar. Her hands clenched into fists, taking hold of her gown as she moved cautiously towards the door. She was shaking like a leaf, her small and fragile body tightening its muscles in anticipation of an attack.

It is not possible. If any of them had passed by me, I surely would have seen them.

She hadn't been expecting it, the force with which the door opened. It knocked her sideways and onto the ground. Faylin felt a cool substance run down her lips and could tell her nose started to bleed. Her leg was throbbing with pain.

The feeling of the ground vibrating beneath her made her look up and she felt the blood drain out of her face. Sister Elsa was on top of a horse, galloping away at full speed. Faylin panicked, watching her only hope of escape running away.

"SISTER ELSA! SISTER!" she screamed, hoping Sister Elsa would look back and wait for her.

Taking a sharp breath she stood up, feeling a stabbing pain go through her leg. Every step she took was proving to be a difficult task, so she limped for as long as she could, watching as the horse came to a stop. Sister Elsa glanced back at her only once before kicking the sides of the horse, crushing all her hopes.

Faylin tripped over a branch in her haste and felt herself hit the floor again.

"ELSA!" She screamed at her, tears falling down her face at the painful betrayal of her sister. She pounded her fist against the ground and sobbed uncontrollably. Everything hurt. God, what have I done to deserve all of this pain?

"Hér! Sjá Vegr!" someone shouted from behind her, making her freeze in fear. It was a deep, masculine voice, thick with authority. As she started getting dizzy, she couldn't help but wonder what would happen to her when she was inevitable caught. Faylin heard footsteps coming closer, she was even sure someone had crouched next to her.

Turning her head to the side she saw through blurred vision someone hovering above her, which just confirmed her suspicion. Fighting to keep her eyes open, Faylin weakly let her gaze travel to the tall man's face. Those eyes; blue - piercing, intense, mesmerizing.

"Minn fagr einn..." she heard him say.

Then, blackness enveloped her.

*****

Faylin felt like she was floating. Something cold and wet pressed against her lip and her eyelids fluttered but did not open. Still overcoming her hazy state, she breathed in the familiar salty, clean smell. She could hear someone weeping but she knew that it wasn't her. Suddenly the sound of loud voices reached her ears, causing her to freeze.

Everything came rushing back to her. She remembered running for her life and Sister Elsa's betrayal. She also recalled being found by...a pagan.

Opening her eyes, she jerked into an upright position. This can't be happening - I must be dreaming, she thought. Realization came over her as she let her eyes scan over her unfamiliar surroundings.

She took in the coarse square wooden sail mounted on a single center mast and the rowing benches and oars that fitted along almost the entire length of the ship. The open deck gave her a view of the dock. It was crowded with the savage race. Many of them had started coming back to the ships but a few remained behind, entertaining themselves. Faylin felt sick as she watched them undress the monks until they were bare, their laugher ringing in her ears.

"Protect us, Lord..."

She heard the whispered words coming from her side. Startled, her gaze darted towards the source of the sound. A fragile looking girl whose hair was in knots had her knees pressed up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them; big brown eyes watched Faylin's face apprehensively.

Faylin bit her lip as her gaze fell upon the fiery red handprint on her cheek. Sighing, she raised her hands to swipe away a lock of her auburn hair when she let out a gasp. There were two things wrong. The first was that someone had taken off her wimple and the second being that her hands were bound!

She desperately pulled at it but to no avail. The sensitive skin, now red and itchy, protested painfully against the tight secure hold the thick cord inflicted upon her delicate wrists.

"What will become of us?" Faylin asked, her voice cracking with barely restrained sobs.

"They're barbarians... what more can they do other than force us into a life of sin?" the girl replied in a low murmur. By the way her shoulders sagged Faylin knew the fight had left her body.

"Ahlis."

"What?"

"My name is Ahlis," the girl introduced herself while attempting a small smile.

"Faylin."

She didn't feel so alone anymore.

It wasn't long before all the men had returned to the ships. Faylin and Ahlis scooted back and watched miserably as the cloud of smoke, the shamble that was left of her town, started getting smaller and smaller as they sailed away.

It brought a tear to her eye knowing there was no choice but let the black heathens lead her to her fate.