Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter LIX⎮Heida

At last it had come to this. Thorgny now sought to accomplish what his vile son had attempted all those years ago — to destroy her, knowing what she was to Rothgar; knowing that it was she that had cost Arnar his wretched life.

And here too was the crippled son, Gisli, jeering as he did before, both their insults mocking as they followed her stumbling form into the woods. If she were not already weakened by the onslaught of the men she'd already dispatched, she might have finished them by now. Still and all, Thorgny's end belonged to Roth ... not her. 

There had been only a momentary hesitation since they'd entered the woods, on both her part and theirs, when a fell roar, an inhuman sound, had rumbled through the trees behind them, splitting the sky with rage and agony. But she could not dwell on what lay behind her, only on whence she was going. And so she forged on as the men followed eagerly, closely, behind her.

Wiping the stickiness from her eyes she affected a terrified whimper, that they might think her beaten and afraid. Thus she pulled her savaged body through the harsh shadows and the silent trees and along the jagged ground. Farther and deeper she lead them. Doom awaited just yonder, whether hers or theirs she couldn't be sure, but towards it she stumbled on.

What other choice was left to her? They would have killed her by now had she not given them some sport, some small amusement, for they'd had her surrounded back at the village. And now that she'd killed their fellows, Thorgny and Gisli would require retribution; lengthy and bloody retribution. Men like these were easily understood — they craved the slow kill. They savored the torment far more than the death blow.

She moved hurriedly, as briskly as her benumbed limbs would take her, and all the while they bludgeoned her and harassed her. Still, she staggered onward. Ever and anon the moon threw a shaft of light through the canopy, almost blinding her. She craved the darkness to blind her foemen, and obscure their aim. She could, after all, see far better than they in the darkness.

With the glimpse of moonlight came another salvo of fists and kicking, now that they had light to aid their cruelties. Her ribs fractured with the force, and she gave them the scream they sought. But always the fury broiled and swelled with retributive menace beneath the facade of terror. Truly, she felt terror only for her child. 

Only a little further, she promised the babe. Stay alive! The last was for herself as much as for her daughter.

Deaf to her cries, the men continued toying with her, a quick dispatching far from satisfying to them; they wanted her to suffer and to beg; they sought her debasement. However, in their blind hatred, they did not perceive her cunning — they did not fear her motives as they ought.

Suddenly, Gisli shoved his misshapen claw into her hair and tore the mass nearly from her scalp. She gritted her teeth as he held her to him, her neck bared to his blade. Of him, though, she had had enough. It was his father's death she would savor. Gisli himself she would send directly to Hel if she could muster the strength; the cur had lived long enough.

As the scud enshrouded the moon once more, she threw her hands up to his face, swiftly dislodging his blade, and jammed her thumbs deep into his eyes; straight into his miserable skull.

He shrieked in his horror, blinded forever, and flailed his arms as she fled from him. But she was careful not to move completely into the shadows, lest Thorgny lose sight of her — that would not do at all.

Thorgny roared his anger, tripping briefly as Gisli, who was no better than a headless pullet, slammed into him. Once he'd gained his footing again Thorgny pursued her with eyes murderous and lips foaming. His son, however, he left benighted in the woods, too filled with rage to care for the cripple.