DIVINE [HVITSERK RAGNARSSON]

18: TORTURE

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN — 'TORTURE'

"Wake up!" The familiar voice yelled out as a bucket of freezing water splashed itself over Asta Stensdottir's head. She had hardly been asleep anyway, due to the nature of her bed being a hard, stone floor that was mere meters away from the bucket that she was forced to use as a toilet.

As the water splashed itself over her head, Asta looked up to see the huge man that had constantly been paying visits to her cell. As soon as she saw his face she crawled up against the cold, stone wall, a look of fear covering her face.
"No, please, not again." She whimpered as his huge feet took another step towards her.
"Grab her." He signalled to the two smaller men that were stood beside him, eagerly awaiting the man's instructions.

The two of them moved towards her, each of them grabbing an arm and hoisting her up off of the ground and holding her upright. The torturer took another step towards the girl before raising his arm and striking her across the face with the back of his hand, a red mark forming almost instantly. She felt the strike pulsate through her cheek, and if it wasn't for the two men holding her arms up then she would have flown backwards and hit the cold floor yet again.
"Why..." the words barely escaped her lips as her cheek began to throb. The torturer let out a laugh.
"Why? Because you are with the Northmen girl. We will not stop until you tell us why your army remains here." He struck her again, but she endured it and this time it was her time to let out a struggled laugh.
"You are a fool if you think I would ever give my people up."
"Then we will make it easier for you." He turned his back to her and she knew what was coming next. She had endured the whips from only the day before, and the skin on her back was still screaming from the wounds.
"Tell us where the Sons of Ragnar plan to attack next." He said, turning around once again with the whip laid across his palm. He waited for her answer for a few seconds, but Asta only gave them silence. The two men that held her up turned her around forcefully, and the whip connected with her back almost instantly. Asta cried out in pain, the wounds from yesterday already still fresh even before the strike.
"Tell us!" He yelled again as Asta still gave them no information. He struck her again and she whimpered. "Tell us how we kill the Sons of Ragnar."
"I will never give them up." The pain was dragging itself through her whole body now, it's weakness becoming irreverent. The men either side of her were the only thing stopping her from collapsing, and the words she spoke struggled to force themselves out.
"Give them up and you survive." One of the men holding her up said into her ear.
"I will never..." she almost trailed off, "give you up." She knew who she was talking out to. She thought of his face as she was struck over and over again, her throat screaming out in pain and her eyes leaking tears that she could no longer control. But, Hvitserk Ragnarsson's face stayed clear in her mind through it all.

She remembered that day at the waterfall, where he had gifted her a sword and she had finally seen a genuine smile beam across his face, or the day in Repton where they fought side by side. Now, he would think she was dead. They all would - Hvitserk, Ubbe, her brothers. They would think she was not strong enough to defend their camp and soon she would be forgotten as another fallen warrior.
"Did you not hear the boy?" The torturer roared at her. "Don't you want to survive? Give them up!"
"They already think I'm dead..." it was painful to even speak now.

Before another strike of the whip could come, the gate to the dungeon room was opened and the Bishop entered. Asta had seen him when their camp was attacked, and he was in her cell only yesterday to mock her and tease her.
"They don't think you are dead, my dear." His words were dripping with sarcasm. "They think you are a traitor."
Asta couldn't even lift her head to look at him, but she listened as he spoke. The men that were holding her up dropped her when the Bishop walked forward, and she collapsed to the ground in a heap of blood and pain.
"A traitor!" Bishop Heahmund laughed and Asta crawled backwards into the corner. She didn't want to be a coward, but she hadnt been trained for this kind of pain. "They think that their own shield-maiden gave them all up for a few strikes to the cheek."
"He knows I would never!" She screamed at him but it only hurt her throat further.
"He does?" The Bishop laughed mockingly again. "I presume you mean the Son of Ragnar Lothbrok, my dear? Oh you should've seen the anger on his face as I told him that his lover had given him up almost instantly."
"No..." Asta muttered to herself, crying still. Hvitserk would never forgive her for becoming a traitor. And she may never get the chance to tell him that the fact wasn't even true.
"Leave her." The Bishop waved his hand as he turned his back from her, as if she was dirt on the ground. "She will be of use to us later."
The men left the cell, slamming it's heavy door behind them and leaving Asta to cry to the sounds of the locks slamming shut yet again.

It was still cold inside of the large tent. The moonlight was so bright that it loomed through the fabric and the night's breeze was carrying itself through the entrance. Hvitserk Ragnarsson paced up and down, his hands clasping the front of his leathers and his face sporting the same angered look that had been there since the Saxons had turned up.
"But what are we going to do?" He persisted the conversation after Ivar had been spouting nonsense.
"We are not paying the ransom! We are Vikings! We should storm their town and kill them all!" Ivar raised his voice and his eyes widened. He was almost unhinged, at times, and while Hvitserk agreed with him to a certain extent, he had to remember that Asta's life was part of this.
"Ivar, stop." Ubbe intervened. "Asta's life is at risk here."
"If we storm their town, they will kill her as soon as they know we are there." Hvitserk pointed out. He wasn't risking anything.
"Why should we care? They told us she is a traitor, Hvitserk! She has betrayed us!" Ivar was pushing his brother's buttons.
"You don't know that!" Hvitserk yelled back at him. "They were just saying that to anger us. She would never betray us."
"Hvitserk is right." Ubbe stood up as he spoke. "They are just saying that."

The brothers stayed silent for a few minutes as different thoughts flew through their heads over what they should do about the situation. Ivar was reluctant to pay a ransom, but Hvitserk would give his own life to ensure Asta came back.
"Arvid and Erik deserve to be here." Ubbe suddenly broke the silence. "She is their sister." He left the tent and Hvitserk nor Ivar said anythint as he disappeared.

"Do you really believe they are lying? That she hasn't betrayed us?" Ivar's voice was much calmer now.
"I know she hasn't."
"I will not pay a ransom. We will wait for the rest of our army to arrive, and then we will attack their town and take it for ourselves."
"Wait for our army to arrive?" Hvitserk suddenly uncrossed his arm, a questioning look appearing on his face. "That will take days! She could be dead by then."
"Then that is the way this war plays out." Ivar said calmly again, but his brother could not believe what he was saying.
"I love her, Ivar." Hvitserk didn't think he'd ever said those words out loud, yet they flowed so naturally from his lips as he did so. Ivar shot him a look. "I love her, and I will walk into that town alone if it means getting her back."

At that moment, Ubbe returned to the tent with Arvid and Erik in tow. Ivar hadn't responded to Hvitserk's words but his face was clouded with a look of intense thought. Asta's brothers had stern looks on their faces, and Hvitserk knew that they would agree with him no matter what - they'd do anything to get their sister back.
"So, what are we doing then?" Arvid shrugged as he looked at the Ragnarssons in the tent. "How are we getting my sister back?"