Scottish Border- 804 AD

The growl of Tualla’s stomach seemed to echo throughout the forest, scaring off any potential prey. Not that hunting would be easy or successful with just her scian, but she had to try.

After two days of foraging edible plants, mushrooms and a few under-ripe berries, Tualla craved something hot and filling.

Due to the threat of wolves and no way to make fire, she’d restricted most of her travel to night, using the stars to guide her south. When she came across the road she'd rode along not so long ago, she kept close but stuck to the surrounding wilderness for cover. She couldn't risk being seen or more importantly, she couldn’t give Edwin any forewarning.

Just the thought of his name infuriated her. She cursed herself for believing his lies. 

What she’d give to be able to go back in time and change the outcome. But she would have vengeance, one way or another.

The trees began to thin, leaving Tualla more exposed. She moved further away from the path and heard a familiar screech in the sky. She ignored it and continued walking. Still cawing, the beating of wings came up behind her. “Go away, Morrigan.”

The further she walked, the more agitated the bird grew, cawing and screeching until Morrigan eventually dove for Tualla. Shielding her head with her arms, Tualla attempted to outrun the bird, to no avail. At her wits end, Tualla stopped. “What?”

Morrigan flew down, landing a safe distance from Tualla.

"I've already said I'm done with you."

When Morrigan didn’t do anything, Tualla rubbed her face and sighed. "What am I doing? You can't even talk!" Tualla shook her head as she resumed the journey. "Maybe you are just a dumb bird." 

With her wings spread wide and without flapping them, Morrigan rose into the air and tripled in size. She hovered in front of Tualla,  preventing her from taking another step and Tualla got the message. 

"Why? Why are you helping me now?" Tears began to burn as she thought about how the gods had led her down this path, and she resented them for it. "Where were you when my people were attacked? Where were you when my family were being slaughtered?" 

A fresh wave of crippling grief floored her. Her chest felt tight as she choked on sobs. There weren’t enough tears in the world to take this pain away.

The gods were supposed to protect them, and they failed, just like Tualla had. And now with Elnwich so close and vengeance within sight, Morrigan wanted to deny her that too.

Shrinking back to her original size, Morrigan hopped up to Tualla and pressed her head against hers. Small beads of a silvery liquid pooled in the corners of Morrigan’s dark glossy eyes. Unable to stop herself, Tualla reached out to catch one before it fell. 

Landing in her palm, the silver tear spread out, coating her hand. Tualla gasped as it began to glow then melted into her skin. As though they were one, she felt Morrigan’s heartache and it crippled her. 

But it wasn’t just Morrigan’s pain. She felt everything her people had suffered, enduring all of their agony, terror and torment as Tualla relived each of their final moments. 

Morrigan grieved their loss too, and her resolute need for vengeance surpassed Tualla’s.

“Fine,” Tualla said. “Show me the way.”

***

From the position of the stars, Tualla could tell they were heading east. Along the way, Morrigan veered off course every now and then, leading Tualla to berry bushes and other sources of food, but since the sun had gone down, she stayed close.

When they came across a river, the smell of cooking food reached Tualla, making her mouth water. The delicious scent grew stronger as they followed the river’s banking and Tualla could almost taste it.

Up ahead, there seemed to be some sort of camp on the river's bank. Tualla jumped behind the nearest tree and looked at Morrigan perched beside her. "Who are they?"

Bobbing her head towards the camp, Morrigan urged Tualla on. The possibility of other survivors ran through her mind, but why would they be this far from home? Perhaps they were here for the same reason.

Although cautious, Tualla carried on, using the nearby trees and bushes for cover. 

From what she could gather, there were at least one hundred men, gathered in smaller groups around fires as they ate, drank and laughed. Four curved wooden structures seemed to be used as makeshift lodgings with a red and white striped canopy draped over. 

Startled by rustling leaves, Tualla clung to a tree, sucking in a deep breath and making herself as small as possible. She caught glimpses of a couple men. They used strange styles of braiding in their hair and she heard them talking in a language she couldn’t understand. Could these be the infamous norsemen?

Her body relaxed as they passed her by and she exhaled before peering out to check they were gone. 

"Why did you bring me here?" Tualla asked Morrigan, unable to believe she’d let herself be manipulated again. "That’s it. This time I am done." 

The moment Tualla turned her back, Morrigan began to screech. 

"What are you doing?" Tualla hissed, looking behind her to check that the noise hadn't caught the attention of the camp. "Are you trying to get me killed?" 

To shut her up, Tualla tried waving her arms and when that failed, she reached out to grab her beak, but Morrigan had already taken to flight. She soared high into the sky, circling above Tualla as she continued to shriek.

Running would be pointless; no way could she outrun a goddess and Morrigan’s erratic behaviour would surely attract attention. Picking up stones, Tualla launched them at the crow. "Shut up! You stupid bird!" 

She finally shut up and flew away, leaving Tualla to do her own thing. 

A hand clamped over Tualla’s mouth, stifling any screams before they could escape. 

Another arm restrained her upper body. Thrashing and writhing about, Tualla couldn't shake the iron grip as it carried her to the camp.

That treacherous bird! If Tualla ever saw her again, she'd kill her, or die trying.

Hailed as a hero, her captor paraded Tualla through the camp. She didn't need to understand their language to grasp their intimidating taunts. She wouldn't let them break her; nothing could be worse than what she’d already been through.

He set her down by one of the lodgings, which Tualla could now see were boats propped on their sides. He barked something at her and his stare warned her to stay put as he retrieved a length of rope from his belt. Winding it around her wrists, he smirked as the rope pinched Tualla’s skin and knotted it tight.

She glared back at him, imagining what it would be like to slit his throat. The dumb brute hadn't even bothered to check her for weapons.

He found her defiance amusing and laughed when he kicked mud at her.

While he wandered off to join in with the rowdy banter, Tualla considered making a dash for it. But with too many people around, she wouldn't get far. So she stayed put, surveying the camp while she devised another plan.

Feeling eyes on her, Tualla searched for the culprit. She found him staring at her through the flames of a fire, shaving the sides of his tattooed head, leaving a patch of dirty-blonde, tightly braided hair down the centre. She shivered under his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable, and forced herself to look away.

A little while later, her captor returned with a bowl of food and sat on a trunk beside her. Her stomach growled as he scooped the food into his mouth.

Noticing Tualla watching, he sneered as he held the bowl under her nose, teasing her, then began pouring the contents onto the ground in front of her.

He gestured to the dirt-covered food, ordering her to eat it, but Tualla turned her nose up and looked away. Although hungry, she wouldn't degrade herself to eating scraps like a feral dog.

Insulted by her refusal, his body stiffened as he stood and towered over her. Grabbing her by the hair, he forced her face into the discarded food. Scraping up more with his free hand, he clamped it over her mouth, squeezing her jaw.

The scuffle attracted an audience and when Tualla couldn’t keep her mouth closed any longer, he stepped back in triumph.
Seething with anger and indignation, Tualla spat it at him. 

Her captor's face turned redder as he shouted something and reared his hand. But someone caught it.

The man with the dirty-blonde hair.

Her captor spun around, ready to confront whoever dared to stop him. He froze when he saw who and struggled to keep his frustration in check. Clearly the dirty-blonde held more authority and after a few heated words were exchanged, the other man grunted before stalking off. 

He shouted something to the rest, and when they cleared off, he brought her a bowl of water and tossed a rag at her. She eyed him with suspicion as she cleaned her face. Why would he step in and save her?

Once clean, he held out some sort of flat bread, but she hesitated to take it.

"Eat," he said, causing Tualla’s mouth to fall open. Had she heard him right?

"Eat," he repeated. "You are hungry."

Tualla took the food and tore a corner off as she stared at him dumbfounded. His eyes were blue like the winter sky and when they locked with hers, her pulse raced.

"You can understand me, yes? Eat!" 

Biting into the bread, a million questions sprang to mind. "How can you speak my tongue?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "What is your name?" 

"Tualla. And what should I call the man holding me captive?"

"I like your fire." He smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I am Torsten."

"Well, Torsten, I need to pee."

He escorted her to a secluded spot away from the camp. 

"Can you untie me?" Tualla held out her bound hands, but Torsten shook his head.
"Can you at least turn around? You don't have to watch." 

He shrugged, and even under Tualla’s stern gaze he wouldn't budge. Tualla took a few more steps before crouching down and hoisting up her skirts. She waited a few moments and sighed. "I can't pee with you looking." 

He rolled his eyes before turning away. The moment he did, Tualla fished for her scian. Unable to hold it properly, she tried to saw the rope, but without the full use of her hands, she struggled.

"Hurry!" 

His booming voice almost caused her to drop the blade. "I'm trying." She gave up, not wanting to rouse any suspicion. Instead, she tucked her scian behind the rope, making sure it couldn’t be seen before standing up and walking back. 

Torsten waited for her to pass before following. With her heart pounding, she walked by a bush with an overhanging branch, pushing it forward with her body.

When the branch snapped back, she turned and lunged at Torsten with her scian.

He caught both her hands in one of his. A jolt of energy surged through her as a vision played out in her mind.

Now she knew why Morrigan had brought her here.

Author's note-

I'm not going to lie, I've had a lot of fun writing Torsten's character, more so in the next chapter. What do you think of him?

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