"She did not take my father's death well. She was a slave also, and was treated brutally. She was used against her will. She did not feel at peace with this world. A few months later, her body was found hanging from a tree outside our village."

Torhyl helped her men finish disembarking the ships and directed them towards the place of rest that Hvitserk had shown her.  She thanked the men for their valiant efforts today and bid them to rest. 

  Brunhild runs after Torhyl, catching her arm and pulling her aside.

  Torhyl gives Brunhild a confused look.  "Is everything alright, Brunhild?  You look flustered."

  "Commander, your wound, have you treated it?" Brunhild lowers her voice as villagers pass.

  "Brunhild," Torhyl takes Brunhild by both shoulders and gives her a warm smile.  "I am fine.  It was but a scratch.  Don't make me sick Hvitserk on you."

  Brunhild gives her a small laugh, catching the eyes of the young man himself watching her from afar.

  "Very well, I shall see you in the morning." Brunhild farewells and steps back into her tent.

  Torhyl walks over to where Hvitserk patiently waits.  Hvitserk directs her towards a large building in the centre of town.  He steps in front of her and open the door, ushering her in first.  She politely nods before stepping inside.

  All eyes fall on her she enters.  Ragnar stands at her presence.

  "Torhyl, come, join us at the table." Ragnar gestures towards the table.

  Torhyl sends him a polite smile and sheds her coat.  The distant ache of her side is not as bad as it was earlier, and for that she was thankful.  Her curves that were previously hidden by the heavy furs were now shown to her visitors.  She adjusts the fabric of her white blouse as she walks towards the table.

  She steps around the table spotting the only spare seat, which happens to be in between Ragnar's sons.  Ivar shuffles over to make space for Torhyl and Ubbe does the same.  Torhyl gracefully sits down at the table, feeling under constant scrutiny of the members of the table.  She feels Ivar's eyes on her and she tilts her head slightly and sends him a sideways glance.

  His mouth hangs ajar slightly, his breaths soft and his eyes still.  She gives him a gentle smile before turning back to Ragnar who is now seated once more.  She sees Ivar shaking his head free of his stare out of the corner of her eye.  Conversations ignite once again as Ragnar signals for people to continue to eat.  Torhyl enjoys the sounds of conversation and is glad for the ambience to cancel out the uncomfortable silence threatening to loom over the table.  People snatch food from various dishes that are sit on various spots on the table.

  Torhyl feels the tingling sensation of hot breath against her ear.  "You are free to help yourself." Ivar whispers.

  She leans close to Ivar as she replies.  "What do you suggest?"

  Ivar points across various dishes on the table, giving her vivid descriptions of each dish.  "A good place to start is probably directly in front of you."

  Torhyl's head tilts slightly at the sight in front of her.   A large boar sits in front of her, its eyes glossy and lifeless and its body mangled. 

  "I have a feeling it will not enjoy watching me feast on its flesh." Torhyl comments, poking its nose with the end of her fork.

  Ivar lets out a laugh at her words and proceeds to inconspicuously turn the boar's head away from Torhyl's direction.  Torhyl smiles at Ivar.

  "Now he can bother someone else with his dead stare." Ivar smirks, taking a sip of ale.

  Torhyl lets out a small laugh before slicing herself a piece of meat.  She did not plan on eating the pork, but felt it wrong to not put it on her plate.  She then proceeded to place vegetables, fish and chicken on her slowly filling plate.

  She takes small portions of the food and slowly begins to demolish the contents on her plate.  She places a forkful of chicken inside her mouth just as Aslaug calls her name.  Torhyl's hand shoots up to cover her full mouth as she let out a muffled, "Yes?"

  "Tell me of your life back in Greece." Aslaug inquires, placing a forkful of potato into her mouth gracefully.

  Torhyl swallows the large lump of chicken in a nervous haste, wincing slightly as she feels it goes down. 

  "There is not that much to tell, my queen." Torhyl reaches for her ale and takes a sip to wash down the large lump of chicken.

  "I'm sure that is not true," Aslaug comments.  "No need to be bash.  You are the Commander of an army.  At your age, I would say that is quite an achievement.  How did you come into that position?"

  "I was trained in the ways of combat by an elder in my village when I was the age of 6," Torhyl explains.  "I grew up with my hand around a sword.  I was blessed to have this opportunity to lead these great men, and I do not take that responsibility lightly."

  "So, you were brought up in the home of powerful family?"

  Torhyl shakes her head and drops her gaze to the table for a second.  "No, ma'am."

  Ivar voice breaks into the conversation.  "You were a slave?"

  Torhyl looks at him and nods.  "I was.  I served in the Emporer's courtyard for the years leading up to my freedom."

  "How did they set you free of your service?" Ivar inquires, leaning forwards on the table, completely enveloped in what she had to say.

  "It did not come as easily as it does to your people," Torhyl explains.  "I had to fight for it.  The challenge was set that I must summon every man in my village to singular combat.  I had to win each fight, or I would not be allowed my freedom.  So...I won each one and I was granted my freedom."

  "When was this?" Ubbe inquires.

  Torhyl turns her head to face him.  "When I was 16...3 years ago."

  "And do you have family back in Greece?"  Aslaug questions, taking a sip of her ale. 

  Ragnar coughs slightly at the question, his gaze slowly raises from his food to Torhyl's eyes.  She sends him an emotionless glance before turning back to Aslaug.

  "No." She says simply.

  "What happened?" Aslaug pries, her concern genuine.

  Torhyl takes a deep breath and avoids the stares of every one at the table, rather she simply stares at her plate.

  "My father was...murdered...brutally when I was but a child." Torhyl explains, her face blank, trying hard to conceal her pain.

  "And your mother?" Aslaug continues.

  Torhyl's eyes rise and meet Aslaug's pained gaze.  "She did not take my father's death well.  She was a slave also, and was treated brutally.  She was used against her will.  She did not feel at peace with this world.  A few months later, her body was found hanging from a tree outside our village."

  Aslaug draws in a sharp breath, her shock and horror present on her face.  Her eyes water at the thought of a small child going through such heartache.  Torhyl's gaze drops back down to her plate.  Eyes once again burn into her as she takes a small bite of her food, her face still and morbid.

  "I am so sorry for your loss." Aslaug says in a gentle tone.

  "Thank you, my queen." Torhyl lifts her cheeks slightly towards the woman before turning her attention back to her plate.  "If you do not mind me asking my queen, but how did you meet Ragnar?"

Aslaug looks at her husband with raised brows then back towards Torhyl, surprised at the sudden interest when really Torhyl's only motive was to change the subject. "We met by a waterfront when he was resting near my land."

Torhyl's eyebrows furrow in confusion.  "Were you not a Shield Maiden?"

  Aslaug's face contorts in confusion.  "No, my lady, I was not."

  Ragnar speaks up.  "I believe you must be thinking of Largertha, my first wife."

  Torhyl's jaw drops slightly at the revelation but she swiftly regains her composure.  "I'm sorry for the confusion, my queen, I meant no disrespect."

"There was none taken." Aslaug reassures.

  "So," Torhyl looks around the table spotting Ragnar's sons sitting around her.  "What are the aspirations of Ragnar's sons?"

  No one speaks but rather turns to each other as if to ask the other what he plans to say.

  "Please! Do not speak all at once!" Torhyl teases, taking another bite of chicken.

  Ivar snorts at the comment.  Ubbe sits up a little straighter as he prepares an answer.  "We all are destined for the fight.  Where the gods take us then, is not our business."

  "Ah..." Torhyl nods at him.  "So, you plan to take up sword and shield?"

  "That was always the plan." Ubbe replies.

  "To follow in your father's mighty footsteps?"

  "He has walked where the gods has blessed his paths...it should be an honour to follow his trails."

  Torhyl shoots Ragnar an impressed pout. Torhyl raises her cup.  "Well, to that I say, Eviva!"

  She looks around the table and sees the confusion of her native language.  "I meant to say...Skol to your promising futures.  May you create your own paths and write your names into scripts of history!"

  The entire table erupts in cheers and each cup is raised.  Torhyl catches Ragnar's eye, his face glowing with the pride for his sons.  Torhyl gives him a nod of approval before raising her cup and throwing back the thick burning liquid.