When Ivar meets a girl with flaming red hair and eyes that cannot see, he begins to wonder how a sightless girl can see so much beauty in the world... And in him.
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Ailbe stood strong in front of the others. She'd always been peaceful, and though fear threatened to rule over her, she willed herself to be brave. She clutched onto the necklace that Ivar had given to her for strength. He always gave her strength. And it was almost as though she had him there with her for a moment. Although, she knew that none of these Saxons would still be breathing if he was really there.
"Leave them." She called out firmly in their language.
One of the Saxons looked over and spat, "Celt."
"None of these women can help you." She explained, pushing some of the youths behind her. "Take me instead."
"And what would we need you for, Celt?" Their leader asked obnoxiously. He seemed almost as arrogant as Ivar but without the cause.
"Can't you tell?" She stepped forward, gulping back her fear to fake her own arrogance. "I'm in charge here. But I promise that if you do anything to me or anyone else here, you will all pay in blood."
"And who would do that?" He grinned.
But Ailbe did not need to answer, for one of the Saxons had already called out, "Ivar The Boneless."
Everyone went quiet, the remaining Saxons going pale. It was no coincidence that they had come to that conclusion - it was because of the chariot racing over the hills towards them. One could sense the fear of the Saxons a mile away. And who wouldn't be afraid?
But their leader soon spoke up, "Grab the Celt." Ailbe sighed in relief for a moment as she assumed that the others would be safe. But that was cut short when she heard their leader's next words. "Kill the rest."
She kicked and screamed as she was bound and thrown onto the back of a horse, much larger warriors holding her down. She could hear the screams of the others, and smell burning wood from flames. But she could do nothing to save them.
****
When Ivar reached the camp, the Saxons were gone. The flames had begun to die down and the few who had survived wept over the dead.
He looked around desperately, blue eyes filled with dread as they searched for a glimpse of her. Just one sweet smile from her would fill him with more happiness than he had ever known. But there was nothing. No sign of her firey hair, no glimpse of her green dress. Nothing.
"WHERE IS SHE?" He yelled with a rage that only she was able to calm.
"She tried to save us," An older woman spoke up bravely, her voice still timid and quiet. Of course she tried to save them, what else would he have expected her to do? She was selfless like that. "They took her." The woman finished, making Ivar's heart drop through his chest.
She was gone.
They'd taken her and it was his fault.
He should've been there. He should've known. He should've protected her. But he didn't.
He grabbed his crutch harshly, getting out from his chariot as fast as he could. He searched the beach for any sign of where they may have gone, but all he found was that little wooden hammer lying in the sand. On it was a single drop of blood.
He gripped the necklace tightly, his buckles going white with his anger. A loud scream echoed through him across the vast emptiness of his surroundings.
Everything felt empty without her there. Like an abyss.
