Ruthless || Ivar Ragnarsson

URUZ - ᚢ

The rest of the journey went by in a hazy blur of water and land. The water splashed gently against the hull of the ship, and sometimes I could see the silver hues of fish in the distant waters. I wondered what great animals were alive in the deep sea below me, imagining great beasts with slick skin and big mouths. The weather had calmed substantially since we had entered the strait and I was thankful for that. Still,  I had been feeling nauseated for the past days, and I was unable to hold any food or water in. The rolling waves made my stomach turn over and my body repeatedly tried to empty itself. It felt like I would never be able to feel well again and my restless insides prevented me from getting any sleep. Being on a ship for so long was taking its toll on me, and the idea of dying in a foreign country away from everyone I knew was a thought that I tried to resist. More than a few tears had escaped over the past weeks, and I couldn't stop more from being added. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the sun and hopefully the dreadful thoughts that haunted me. I opened my eyes again when the sound of crows suddenly began. Their cawing made my skin crawl and an eerie atmosphere took over.

I didn't know if I was hallucinating when I saw the man on the shore. I first thought it was because of the lack of sleep, however it didn't feel like a delusion at all. The person was standing tall on a large rock, looking out over the water. Two crows were perched on his shoulders, and even from a great distance I could see his face even though he was wearing a hood. When I looked into his eye, a sight came into my mind as if the man had projected a memory in my head. At first I saw a snake, not alike the sand snakes from back home, because this one was enormous. It seemed to be swallowing its own tail, enclosing itself in a never-ending circle. Then the vision changed; a man, hanging from a tree so high that its peak was hidden by clouds, followed by chained wolf trying to break free. Then my view went black for a moment as if my sight had been taken away from me. As quick as the vision came it disappeared, but it still felt as if I was being watched. I did not know what the meaning was behind what I just had seen, or even what it was. I realised that these things, these visions, had happened to me before, when I was younger. Back then I had thought they were mere daydreams, so I never acted upon them or thought them to be relevant. However this time it seemed important, as if I should know what the meaning was behind what the man had showed me. The man on the shore had revealed to me parts of a yet incomplete story.

After a few more endless days of sailing, the strait we crossed narrowed and it appeared our time on the water was coming to an end. We hadn't seen any other ships the past weeks; we had been isolated from everyone else. We were clearly not alone anymore as other ships came into view. The smaller and faster boats, occupied by fishermen and travellers passed us, while our ship passed the heavier and slower trading ships. It was apparent that we were on our way to a bigger stronghold other than the small towns I had seen on the shores.

The first sight I caught of our destination was early in the morning. The mist was thick, and it looked like we were sailing through the clouds, high above the lands. I wished that I could have saved that moment to return to whenever I wanted, because the beauty of it was entrancing. A few stars were still visible in the sky, but they slowly faded as the darkness made place for the sun. The first rays of pale orange sunshine lit up the valley and gave the scene a faint glow. The mist turned from white, to yellow and orange. We sailed into a bay where the strategically placed town was settled. The houses were made of wood, while some of the larger buildings had thatched roofs. Small columns of smoke rose up from the fires inside, making the scenery more foggy than it already was. The settlement was bigger than I had expected, and it could almost be called a city. My weariness wore off as the change of scenery heightened my senses. I tried to take in as much as possible, but all these new impressions were overwhelming. We finally laid anchor in the harbour at the break of dawn. This early in the morning only a few early risers had left their warm homes for the streets. Though the pier was still guarded, it didn't seem like the villagers were expecting invaders. It seemed tranquil to me, but I knew that probably was a deception.

"Kattegat, of síðir," the captain mumbled, I could hear the words coming quietly from his mouth. It became apparent that this place had been given the name of Kattegat.

The men tied the ship to the pier and began unloading immediately. Their desire to quickly go home to their wives made them work extra hard. Some of the townspeople came out of their houses and welcomed the men back from their long journey. Laughter echoed through the valley as they began telling the stories of their adventures, and as the morning progressed more people came out to greet the men. After a while, the captured were tied to each other by a rope. The first time I stood up I almost fell down again. My entire body was sore and my muscles seemed to resist any movement. I bit through the pain like the others and we slowly made our way from the boat, to the pier. My legs were not used to standing after sitting down for so long, and it stil felt like we were on a ship even though we were standing on solid ground. With harsh tugs we were led to a small wooden building at the edge of town. I could hear the girl behind me crying, and as much as I wanted to comfort her I wasn't able to. The streets were muddy and the road to the stable required us to go up a steep hill, so I had to watch my step to prevent myself from getting more wet and cold than I already was. I barely had gotten a glimpse of the streets before we were pushed in the dank stable. It was a narrow, dark space, with the only light coming from a small hole in the roof. There was a bit of straw on the ground, but from the smell I knew that it had been there for quite some time. Our chains were taken off and we were ordered to sit down in the dirty straw. I found a place near a corner, away from the cold air coming in through the entrance. The two men who had guided us turned away to close and lock the stable.

The same girl who had walked behind me, suddenly jumped up and made a sprint for the doors. Her brown hair was tangled up in knots and below the dirt her face was red from crying. She was frantically running away, tripping over her own feet more than once. One of the men looked at her for a few seconds before running after her, and within seconds he had reached her. He took her arm and worked her to the ground and growled a few words at her, but they were too far away to hear what he said. It seemed we, the captives, were of some value, because I was sure that otherwise he would have ended her. With his hand tightly around her arms he forced her back to the stable, but she started screaming and kicking as soon as he tried to make her sit. Her shrieks were incoherent and even in the dark I could see that fear was written on her face. The girl kicked him in the groin, and the man clearly had enough. He took his steel axe from his side, swung his right arm in a big circle and the girl went down to the ground. Blood pooled around her soulless body, dead eyes staring at the ceiling but not seeing anything. I averted my gaze from the scene, but I was too late and the image kept floating around in my mind. A stream of blood meandered in front of my feet, turning the straw soggy. Clearly the cost of disobedience was bigger than our value. She had been an example of what would happen if you tried to escape. My mouth went dry, this time not from the lack of water.

I was glad that I got to work at the stables. Back home we had two horses, and being around animals made it more bearable to be here. They did not care if I was a servant or a queen, only if I cared well for them. Working hard kept my thoughts from going back home, to my parents. So I worked harder than I ever had to do. These horses were different from the desert horses I knew, though they didn't differ much in care, they did all the more in exterior. Our horses were lean and swift, agile in their movements  and with heated temperaments like the sun. These horses were bigger, slower in their movements but also with great stamina. Their temperaments were more cool, like the deep waters we had sailed. I never got to ride them however; my job was to brush, feed and water them. Unfortunately I had to do the dirty jobs as well, but I quickly got used to it. 

It was in the afternoon when I was ordered to get water from the well for the animals. Birds flew overhead, chirping, singing their songs in the hope of finding a new partner. The stables were bustling, because new horses had been bought from the tradesmen this morning and some of the younger horses were being trained for the saddle. I only had been in Kattegat for less than a fortnight, and I was still getting used to the ways of these people. They were rowdy and loud, but at times mysterious and secretive. With a big bucket in each hand I made my way to the well. The streets were busy with market vendors selling their wares, blacksmiths crafting weapons and other everyday events. Luckily there was no queue so I didn't have to wait to get water from the well. I put one of the buckets on the stone wall behind me and attached the other to the hook from the pulley system. I let it down, and after I let it fill with water I pulled it back up. When I turned to put the full bucket on the wall behind me, I was met with a pair of icy blue eyes.