[ Book 1 of my "The Last Kingdom" Fanfiction series]
Khaana was a rare find and a wild prized gifted to Earl Ragnar as a slave from a wealthy ruler who once considered her a prized pet.
The Danes have never laid eyes upon a Black African, and figure...
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Khaana sat at a safe distance and watched as Uhtred went over battle tactics with Leofric and his men. "I see why Brida was so miserable." Khaana thought to herself as she rested her head in her hand, watching the soldiers with a bored expression. Once the men finally took a break Uhtred went to Khaana he could see her expression even at a distance. "You know you don't have to be here," Uhtred told her amusement shining in his eyes. "They have plenty to do back in the village. Being a barmaid or tending to the animals, helping the nuns, aiding the sick." He said.
Khaana scowled, "those all sound terrible," She said. Uhtred laughed "You like taking care of people, go help the sick. It will give you better use for your power." He said. "I can only heal those with who I am connected." Khaana reasoned. "so give them medicine and put a poultice on their aches. Alfred is running with your lie of being sent by their god. It will help me look better if you are out there helping his people." Uhtred said.
Khaana sighed, "and he finally wants to put that mind to use." she said to herself. "I am learning. If Alfred thinks, so will I." Uhtred said. "alright, I will go, do give the Urswine a good trashing for me...he keeps looking this way. It's very unsettling." Khaana said, gathering he travel satchel and heading off towards the village.
Moans, groans, coughs, and all manner of unpleasant noises came from the infirmary of the church. Khaana went from cot to cot offering water, herbal medicine, and broth to the sick, but many of the villagers there were wounded farmers who tried to defend their land from would-be raiders.
"do not touch me demon!" An injured monk cried out at Khaana reached out to him to add a salve to a wound on his arm. Khaana rolled her eyes, "I am sent here by the father, monk. I am no demon." She said reaching for his arm again, but still, he snatched it away. "You are, you survive flames and travel with heathens! I am not fooled by the stories!" the monk shouted. He quickly fell into a coughing fit, "Child," she said pointedly to the middle-aged man, "you have given yourself the fits. I travel with Uhtred a Saxon-blooded pagan who now serves your king, your country. I also travel with Sir Leofric and his men, and I have been sent on holy business." She explained trying to retain patience.
Khaana blinked a few times as she gave the monk a moment to think. "Now would you rather treat your wound or would you rather let it fester and pray you weren't wrong about me." She mused.
The monk looked down at his arm and hesitantly cast his eyes up to Khaana, she held out her hand and he rested his arm in it. "That doesn't look like the salve the nuns have been using." The Monk said timidly. Khaana chuckled inwardly as he lost most of his piousness. "Because it is not the same Salve, it is better. I went out and gather new herbs these are old remedies." She said, once the salve covered the wound she dressed it in fresh bandages.
"You are free to be on your way," Shee said, the most pulled his sleeve over the wound and spared little time, hurrying away from Khaana.
