For The Sake of Revenge

Chapter 5: Kiss and Tell

Four weeks passed and we marched on in a group. I was still always roped to Ivar, who didn't seem keen on letting me in the wagon with Benedict, Alys, and Edmund. He was purposefully isolating all of us. An old man had no business talking with children, and I didn't have anyone who was willing to talk to a slave other than Ivar, who was still a jerk.

So far, they only raided three villages in four weeks. Our provisions were completely stocked and there were still no new captives. I never attended any of the raids and I am glad I did not.

Three days of the week they sacrificed animals to their Gods. I could see Benedict Leif shuddering and I heard him praying to God under his breath. A day we rested in where we bathed got ourselves in order. Two days of the week was story telling time; they spoke of their Gods and told tales of them. I understood the stories and when I worked during the resting day, I told the children of their stories.

Benedict always disapproved; "Do not soil their ears with such heinous beliefs, girl."

"What is there to speak about? They are just stories; I don't believe in them. But they are children, they need entertainment," I argued.

He usually grumbled away after that.

Ivar, so far, didn't do anything beyond his rough treatment of me; pushing me around, yanking me, grabbing my hair, and just being a real sexist jerk. My butt was a frequent object to the attention of his hands. But he only ever groped me when I asked questions. I learned to try and ignore it, and not shudder in disgust when he did it. My curiosity always got the better of me.

My curiosity would not be sated. I know I was lucky, I heard stories around camp that slaves were often whipped by their masters for asking questions. Even about trivial things. I could only pray that Ivar would stick to his indulgence to my questions.

I didn't know an ounce of knowledge of this world. It was proven on that one day.

I kid you not, on a bath day; I saw a man and a woman coupling, in broad daylight. With everyone else either ignoring them or cheering them on.

Cheering them on!

This was like watching real-life porn. How quaint.

When I looked to Ivar to see his reaction, he was only laughing at them; "Come on, Volstagg, I know you can do better than that! Show Sigrid how it is done!" he called, urging the man to thrust harder into the woman, who was unashamedly screaming with pleasure. He didn't seem remotely fazed by such a sight.

"They are Barbarians—hedonists--nymphomaniacs!" Benedict cried, flustered, and looking like he will go into cardiac arrest any moment. He covered the eyes of the two, innocent children, who hopefully did not see what was happening.

"What is happening?" Alys asked curiously.

"Nothing, little one," Benedict said sharply, turning away from the scene and dragging the two children along with him. "These people will be going to hell is all."

I almost laughed. These people didn't believe that pursuing bodily pleasure will land them in the Inferno. They were hedonists to the boot. They believed the pursuit of bodily pleasure and dying in war will win them Valhalla; their version of heaven.

I had gotten up to stretch my legs and follow Benedict and the children but a hand gripping my wrist stopped me.

"Where are you going?" Ivar purred, yanking me back by my shoulder. I resisted the urge to push him away.

"I am going to bathe," I lied. Ivar thrust his hips against me from behind. I squeaked indignantly. He is disgusting.

"Don't lie," said Ivar quietly, dangerously, "It is unbecoming, you already bathed."