Destiny Enslaved (editing)

Part 3

The doors clicked, the lock undone, but, it was still a boot which opened them. suddenly with the terrified shrieks of the women filling the air, men piled into the room. Not normal men. Huge, pale and bloodied they looked like demons risen from some hell. 

They were led by he who kicked open the door- By the man who emerged from the dragon's shadow. He is definitely their leader, broad and strong with blonde hair that was partly shaved; the rest fell down his back in a long braid. He was followed closely by a brunette man who shared his square jaw, and his stocky build. I gasped quietly as he came into the light of the small bazaar. His face is undeniably handsome and stoic; it expresses that he is formidable in his strength. His blue eyes are that of storm clouds but they are unaffected by the fog of battle.

A younger man suddenly jumps around him in excitement and a chill ran down my spine again. the boy was wiry compared to most of the others present. He spoke to the blond with excitement as he turned a leering gaze onto the women behind me. The blond spoke in a deep baritone, expressing little interest in the beauties before him. They speak strange words, like those that had erupted from my mouth. I assumed the words he speaks are meant for the younger man telling him to wait to have his satisfaction as the leader holds his hand up before walking on and leaving the rest of the men behind.

The large man came to stand only a few paces from me. He looked over all of the women, with the exception of me, before speaking. Allah only knows what he said because the women simply whimpered and pressed themselves in huddles against the walls. The brunet spoke up then, saying something which he seemed to think was a good idea because he smirked as he came closer. The blonde nodded and then it was the brunet's turn to addresses us. But to my surprise, he spoke in a different tongue.
''We will not hurt you Tell us who spoke'' he spoke softly but it didn't stop a woman cry 'Francs we are all going to die!' which obviously set off the other women crying and praying.

Francia had long been an enemy to us but still, I doubted anyone could understand its language. Then he spoke again.

'' the voice of the man, who spoke those words'' he raised his hands as a gesture of kindness but it was hard to see him that way when blood was splattered and smeared all over him. he threw his hands in exasperation at the barrier. The wiry one used this as an opportunity to whisper into the leader's ear. Not once did any of the horde take their eyes off of the women. But whilst this happened I realised that I knew one word that, in context, would explain the general meaning of the pillager's words- la voix. I had heard it when I was young and being shown off to an emissary. He said 'elle a une belle voix.'

Realising the master took pride in even my angry insults, that emissary was the reason I had been silent for so long.

So from context, they must have been talking about my unfortunate timing in having the fichfich take hold.

I stayed still.

I may have been brave in front of the master but that didn't mean I was stupid enough to offer myself to these barbarians. But that wasn't my choice apparently.

The pretty concubines voice came from over my shoulder. ''monsieur!'' she yelled as he turned from us and the young leering man stared at the women hungrily. He moved towards us but again was stilled by the leader. ''Rollo'' he spoke to which the older brunette turned around to listen.

She ran to him. landing on her knees in front of him she cried. The man, Rollo, was shocked and confused. He called something to his kinsmen to which the wiry boy shouted something; it elicited hearty laughs from all the men- aside from the formidable leader who simply gestured at 'Rollo'. Rollo lost most of his smile whilst I watched the predatory smile only grow more unsettling on the face of the wiry man.