Destiny Enslaved (editing)

part 7

In the silence that followed, I felt vulnerable. Strangely more so than when they first found us.
I wasn’t able to keep watching as the seconds opened into chasms. Bjorn scrutinised my appendage with slight awe lighting his even bloodier face. The unexpected warm touch on one of my scars jolted me backwards. I stared at Bjorn who had been left, his finger floating above where my arm had been, he stared at me penetratingly. He watched as my heckles came down in the cooling off period he had given me. and I couldn’t take my eyes from his every move. He was calm in his movements. Purposefully moving slowly as he bent to scrape the blood and matter from his sword on a dead man’s clothing.
He turned from me as I gathered my composure. I wasn’t about to be beaten – surprisingly. Or abused. Or raped. Or threatened with death- again this was all surprising. Bjorn walked towards a door which stood at the other end of the room. I had to follow him. it felt like I was going to be doing that for a while until I found my own path. The fichfich faintly echoed my sentiment. I chuckled- for once I was a step ahead.
I gathered the cloth of my dress- I could see they might prove a nuisance in the future. Bjorn found that these doors were unlocked. They obviously hadn’t expected people to get this far. Bjorn cockily grinned back at me whilst opening the doors blindly.
With a small crack, the room I stood in was suddenly illuminated by the lights reflecting from the gold that lay within. The display of flickering flame being refracted by, practically, a room of treasure was overwhelming and dazzling. Columns supported the atrium beyond which numerous rooms branched off holding unknown treasures. Gold lined the walls which stretched up from the columns to form the dome. Filled in etchings of words and pictures made by expert artists and sculptors.
 Bjorn was distracted by the chests which had been left open- probably in the rush to take as much gold as the greedy, fat master could take. Bjorn strode boldly into the room and began moving chests into line. I watched puzzled as to his motives but left him to it.
I was more concerned with the writing on the walls. Gold practically dripped from the walls there was that much of it. And beautiful glazes of reds and blues. In these scrawls of words, I saw myself reflected. I placed a hand onto the cool surface feeling the bumps and grooves feeling the familiarity. The master had been kind enough to have tutors sent to me when I was younger and more obedient. The words curled and flowed like the waves of the see. Seeing it all spread before me it felt like drowning. These words- stories?- prayers?. They were a part of me. carved into my flesh and made to scar. They were to be the sign that told everyone who I was- who I belonged to. You couldn’t escape if everyone knew to look for the girl with the writing carved into her. The pale pink lines that traced my body they were chained that only death could throw off. That was how I saw them. but here in this room of wonders, greedily monopolised as I was, they were beyond beautiful. They were the words of my people… my last connection to home.
I found a small flower on the wall surrounded by words like life and rebirth. I followed its lines delicately with the tip of my finger. Then I went to its twin which lay just below my bicep. Even through the silk and cotton, I felt its deep furrows. And though once, not even very long ago, it would sicken me to see them. I smiled. Maybe- maybe if I stared long enough. Remembered all that this room was and meant- all that I was- then perhaps I could call myself beautiful in the darkest moments that I saw on the horizon.
It was stupid to get lost in such superficial and dreary thoughts.
Luckily at that moment, a loud flapping which speeded toward me made me whip my head away from the mesmerising embellishment to be met with a cooling whoosh of air. Followed by the thump of wadded up cloth hitting my face. My sight was obscured by the beige and black mass.
‘’ endring’’ Bjorn said absently as he went back to rooting through the side rooms.
I stayed silent as he turned back, choosing to investigate what he had thrown at me before I deciphered his meaning. In my hands, I now held scrunched up male clothing. Clothing of rank. It was obvious once I went over the scarlet cloth and found the impeccable metal embroidery which was reserved for those of status. The embroidery was gold and silver, motifs of the sun and the moon surrounded by stars and casting their beams outwards. It was meant for a shalabi or beylerbeyi- god knew how the Pasha of a port city got a hold of them. they were a set of kaftan and pants. Balled up with them were beige undergarments and a cream shirt. Piecing it together it dawned that Bjorn must have thought the same as I did about my skirts getting in the way.
But where was I to change?
I looked around and sheepishly ducked behind one of the columns opposite to where Bjorn continued to rummage. I quickly fumbled with undoing the complicated wrapping that the maids had done to dress me. finally, bare to the world I grabbed the beige cotton braies and slipped them over my legs before tying them securely. Next was the binding. I held the stretch of cotton in my hands before looking down. How was I meant to tie them up? On my own… it always took two to hold and tie the binding…
I huffed at my inadequacy- surely women did this themselves every day.
I began slow and loose. Once I had the feel of my body I sped up wrapping faster and tightening as I brought the cloth under to support my cleavage. When I finished it was obvious that it had been my first it but it had to do. I threw on the shirt just in time for Bjorn to swing his head around the column. I shrieked – to my chagrin. Bjorn looked down to my bare shins, something strange in his eye, before beckoning me with his hand to follow. I slipped on the pants at I walked then quickly the long sleeved kaftan. I looked down at the baggy clothes, they did well to disguise my figure, though I suspected I still looked overdressed if I stood next to my abductor. I shrugged- at least I didn’t have to worry about tripping as the pants cut off above my ankles. Righting myself I came to a halt when I looked back up and found Bjorn. Flanked by the two men who I assumed were relatives.
by his tone, Bjorn was giving out his commands for them to carry out. He pointed at the chests of gold and the various other treasures he had assembled into the middle of the room. When the young hvitserk saw me his eyes widened in disbelief, a crease of worry forming on his forehead. Rollo took me in and shared the same reaction- though his eyebrow quirked in a curiosity at which my skin prickled.
Hvitserk turned to Bjorn and exclaim ‘bror’ followed by a long string of aggressive words spat in my direction. I glared at the man. He wouldn’t see me cower from him.
Rollo simply eyed the mound of treasure with greedy eyes. He would, no doubt, be assessing what his share should be as it was carried out.
Eventually, Bjorn, who had let the younger man spout his grievance in silence, spoke.
‘’stoppe’’ he said curtly as he held up his hand. The younger man bit his lip to stop his flow of venom. Bjorn went on to state his case for my still being alive- I assumed that was the conversation as Bjorn continued to glance at me.
’du hørt Ragnar stemme samme som meg’’ his eyes shifted to mine with an unease in them I had not yet seen.’’hun vil bli gitt til profet først da vil vi finne ut hennes skjebne’’ he pointed to the heavens ‘’ Odin’s vil’’  he proclaimed confidently. ‘’inntil da hun er min’’ his last words were spoken with finality that said the argument was over.
I took in their conversation, as one sided as it was, his words remained unfamiliar to me- save one: Profet. They rolled it on their tongue differently but I had definitely heard the word before. From the mouths of traders in my homeland, whispered in awe or condemnation as foreign men gawked and on the journey to this city.
My life was short lived but in that time much had happened. From my beginnings in a small village named bi-gharaz next to the Tigris I was taken to the capital Damascus and then exiled and bought by the man who ruled this city. The master, for all his faults and motivations, had saved me. And though I fucking hated the fact I had to thank him for that- no matter what he became.
The point was I had heard that word many times and it never seemed to turn out well. Mostly due to the fact that I was a stubborn girl who didn’t do as people asked most of the time. When passing through the Mediterranean we stopped along the port towns and many flocked to the prophetess who was chained like an animal.
Bjorn had finished conveying his wishes to rollo; he had left hvitserk to sulk and glower at me from a corner of the room. He looked at me over his shoulder and beckoned to me ‘’komme’’ before he began walking out.
I froze for an instant, rocking back onto my back foot, thinking. What would this really mean- follow these men into a new world and what? What would I become? Where would my future end?
Bjorn’s footfalls echoed as he continued towards wherever he was to go. Rollo moved past me whispering in a tone devoid of emotion ‘’ kjøre liten jente’’
I don’t know what he said and I didn’t have time to think anymore. Rollo’s words had brought me back to the present and at that moment I realised Bjorn's heavy footsteps had ceased their echoing knell down the halls. Instead, the slow taps had begun. Rollo steady behind me and hvitserk… I had taken my eyes off of the danger in the room. Hvitserk had disappeared from his spot. And I was keenly aware of the odd rhythm of light steps that had begun circling to my blind spot.
Fuck it. If I had to show weakness in front of these men then let it be this- I had no confidence in winning a fight with a marauding predator -unarmed.
It lit the fire under my feet as I bolted from the room like a startled deer. I leapt over the bodies left in front of the treasury and off into the silent, shadowed hallway. A cachinnation erupted from the room as I’m certain both men amused themselves with my burst of fear.

translation time-
Brur - brother
stoppe- stop
du hørt Ragnar stemme samme som meg- you heard Ragnar same as me<br />
hun vil bli gitt til profet først da vil vi finne ut hennes skjebne-she will be given to the prophet only then will we find out her fate<br />
Odin's vil- Odin's will<br />
inntil da hun er min- until then she is mine.<br />
kjore liten jente- run little girl.