Destiny Enslaved (editing)

Part 24

yay! finally the next chapter-and im really excited to hear your opinions on this one.

hehe- i'm biting my nails from suspense :3

anyway- ENJOY!! xx

There was only one person I could hope to find and as I looked into the opening of the fabric maze the task seemed daunting.- could I even rely on Floki.

Walking through the tents was like walking into another world. Drink flowed; an enchanting amber liquid which glowed under the fire light. The scents in the air were pungent; sour wheat and spice, the musk of the people as they fought and fucked.

They were free people with little to no reserve. Living life to the fullest because their lives meant tomorrow they could be dead.

I walked the already well-trodden paths weaving between tents. My bare feet squelched in the cold mud sending tingles up my spine. I made sure to stick to the middle of the channels not daring to venture too near to the revelry lest I might dragged into some game. The occupants were particularly rowdy as pale and tanned faces showed the range of expressions as some laughed and some cried. The groping pale hands always a threat.

Eventually, I found the tent which seemed to lay at the centre of the maze shift village. In its depths sat a limber man hunched over a pitcher as he sat on a small stool, his back to the dying flames. Strewn about the floor were empty skeins though scanning the interior of the tent I noticed the lack of activity and the clear void surrounding this place told me that clearly, this place was to be avoided. The stagnant atmosphere and sour smell a clear warning from the man who inhabited the tent.

I walked past the sputtering flames and into the tent. My hackles rose in response to the primitive sense of danger as the air grew fuzzy from the fumes.

The man vaguely recognised my presence with a grunt. Floki was 4 sheets to the wind. He swayed a little on his little perch crowded by empty places that had presumably been occupied by Bjorn and the others. On the floor again were hard yet more luxurious furs to be used as spontaneous beds... My skin began to crawl as I neared Floki- his shadow danced like a cobra under the glow of the coals.

When I came just out of what I calculated to be arms reach I halted. My body seizing with a sense of foreboding.

''this was your message...''

His tone was scathing though barely a whisper.

''you're the vessel of their will,'' his head snapped towards me with a vicious expression. His voice serpentine as his restrained fury slithered through the air. ''tell me why... why Ragnar died...'' his head dropped. ''why- like this... After he finally forgave...'' sadness and loss seeped in now. He trembled like a child trying to understand the colossus that was death.

I had't' realised Floki would have a relationship with Ragnar. But of course for the gods to convey his message the man must have had great reach in life. I could possibly fathom the depths of their relationship now- but I could think it as elaborate as creation from the grief which saturated the air. They must have loved each other.

''Floki ..'' I whispered to him as I inched closer. I couldn't think of any words - none would be enough to console him.

''don't bother ba-babbling your witch's tongue...'' he garbled and slurred as his sway became more tenuous as he tried to steady his balance. I knew he would topple.

I bit my lip- I was about to take a risk-I could only hope his mind was as addled by the drink as I thought it was. I hoped he wouldn't remember any of this.