VICIOUS [IVAR THE BONELESS]

CHAPTER NINE

Freya was locked in a smaller room, nothing but cold and naked walls surrounded her. Her wrists were chained as well as her throat. The chains rustled whenever she moved. Her armory had been stripped off her body. She had cursed at them in her language as they did so, telling them she would do to them whenever she would get out of the chains. It reeked, the room. Droplets of water stained her skin, barely washing away the blood from the battle. Her hair was messy, bloodstained and wet. The previous braids were almost non existent. Her knees were aching from her position yet she didn't mind. Her raging wrath were boiling inside her. She could only imagine that the King was laughing at her right now, unsuccessful and captured by the heathens. Pagans.

Suddenly she heard loud rough voices from outside the door. The heathens, speaking in their language and mentioning her if she was correct. The walls were muffling their words. The sound of the door rustling as it was unlocked and soon she was faced with four bulky men who smirked at her. Her breathing was rugged as she watched two of them walk inside and removed the chains from the walls. Neither one of them knew her language and instead of telling her to stand they gripped her hair tightly and pulled her up from the ground while laughing.

They pushed her towards the entrance where the other men gripped her arms tightly after kneeing her in stomach with made her suck in a sharp breath. Then they walked her down the halls of cellar, up the stairs and then towards the church which she fought back only for her own entertainment. She wondered why they were in the church since they loathed the christian as much as they hated the pagans. Two other men opened the doors to the church and she was pulled inside yet she had time to glared angrily at the men by the door.

Freya laughed when they carried her inside, her feet off the ground. She saw Ivar seated on the throne she had seen before with a knife he kept twisting in his hand. He sat there proudly with his brother, Hvitserk, who stood beside him and behind the chair by the wall stood warriors with their hands resting on their swords which made her chuckle even more. The men roughly dropped her onto the hard ground before three of the took a hold of each chain to keep her restrained.

"There she is. The woman whose been running around here." Ivar spoke her language with a smirk then glaring at his brother with a grin. Hvitserk smirked back and she sucked on her teeth. "You've already met her brother." He continued and Freya chuckled, letting her head tip back.

"When he watched his brother get beaten to a pulp without interfering." Freya snapped back and Ivar just glared at her with a neutral expression. "Where is he now? Ubbe is his name correct? Did it get to much for your brother Ivar the Boneless? Hvitserk?" She taunted him, not caring about the chains then looking at Hvitserk. The man who held her neck chain tugged at it and she laughed wickedly. Hvitserk gulped yet kept his eyes glued on the woman.

"I hope those men following you doesn't come back because then they're dead men." Ivar said calmly and Freya laughed.

"Why would they come back Ivar the Boneless?" She asked him, adding pressure on his name, tasting it on her tongue.