"Do not question me, you know what needs to be done, now do it."

  Brunhild commands the men into the boats and prepares for their journey to the North. She stoked the fire just as the Commander had asked and she continued her regular duties as she awaited Torhyl's return.

Torhyl arrives with Ragnar at her side and walks straight towards the fire. She thanks Brunhild for her thriftiness and places a dagger into the glowing coals.

"When the knife is hot, bring it to me along with the healing herbs from the ship's cabin." Torhyl instructs Brunhild carefully.

Torhyl walks away from the ships and sits herself down behind a boulder to be hidden out of sight.

She strips off her coats and her armour. She pulls free her shirt, her side aching more and more with each stretch. She examines the wound and grunts at the sight. The gash wasn't too deep, not as bad as some wounds she had obtained in the past. She runs her fingers over the wound to measure its depth and severity. It was not deep enough to sever any muscles or important tendons, but the sword had cut deep enough to cause a large amount of blood loss.

The flesh around the cut has turned pink and swollen already. She takes in its gruesome appearance before not being able to look any longer. Brunhild rounds the boulder and her eyes fall on her leader. She gasps at the sight of the wound, her face contorts in empathy for the woman.

"Bring forward the dagger," Torhyl places the stick she picked up earlier and wraps it in her shirt. "Seal the wound."

"But Commander-" Brunhild is interrupted by Torhyl.

"Do not question me, you know what needs to be done, now do it." Torhyl places the stick in her mouth and locks her jaw, preparing for the pain to come.

Brunhild positions herself over Torhyl and steadies her hand. "Are you ready, Commander?"

Torhyl's jaw tightens and her teeth dig deep into the timber as she nods for Brunhild to continue. Brunhild lowers the blade onto Torhyl's skin. Torhyl lets out a muffled scream, masked by the stick that is being crushed between her teeth. Her face is completely contorted and her whole body shakes with pain as she contains her agony. The smell of searing fresh floats into the air and the sound reminds Brunhild of cooking meat.

Brunhild swiftly removes the blade when the wound is properly sealed. Brunhild takes a handful of soaked herbs ground into a poultice and places it onto the fresh flesh. She tears a long piece of fabric and wraps it around Torhyl's waist. Her fingers gently brush the flesh, not daring to press too hard for fear of hurting Torhyl or upsetting the wound.

Torhyl removes the stick from her mouth and retrieves her shirt from around it. She tosses the abused stick and pulls on her shirt with a wince. She proceeds to put on her clothes but is stopped by Brunhild.

"Let me help you, Commander," Brunhild helps her to her feet. "It is not wise to be upsetting the wound."

Brunhild helps Torhyl into her armour, sliding each coat on with such precision and delicacy. Torhyl thanks Brunhild for her assistance. Soon Torhyl is dressed, but her body is still trembling from the trauma of the hot blade.

"Commander, you do not look well." Brunhild comments as she observes Torhyl's pale frame.

"I'll be fine in a bit Brunhild, do not worry about me." Torhyl reassures with a smile.

Torhyl steps into her ship and all eyes are set on her as she strides to the deck. She looks at all the men who in turn stare back at her.

"Well?" Torhyl quirks a brow. "What are you doing just standing there for? Cast off."