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.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
They say that the world is a scary place, full to the brim with demons and monsters. But, to Ailbe, the world was a beautiful dream. She could see joy and hope where no one else could, and in everything she tried her hardest to find the silver lining. Her every moment was spent with joy, living her every second to the fullest.
But now, in her present predicament, she could find no hope. For what felt like hours, she was certain that she was being led to a slow and painful death. But then the realization dawned on her - could they not use her as bait? Ivar would surely go to the ends of the earth to get her back, so if they wished to hurt him then all they needed was her. Oh what a fool she'd been. Just the thought of him being hurt made her heart ache. Perhaps death was a preferable fate, for she knew that Ivar was strong enough to weather any storm without her. She, on the other hand, wasn't sure she could survive something happening to him.
Meanwhile, of course, Ivar was thinking the exact same thing.
When she was thrown off the horse, she had no idea where she was. England was so unfamiliar and so she had no concept of where they may have taken her. She did, however, have a concept of the pain that shot through her when they ripped her from the horse and tossed her onto the ground.
All air left her lungs, mud smearing over her face as she coughed.
"Who is this?" An oddly familair voice questioned authoritatively. Ah, so this must be their true leader. But what kingdom were they in? Which King could this be? It wasn't King Alfred, she'd heard that he was rather young and this man sounded much older. Moreover, she'd heard that the young king was a fair and kind man. Surely he would never sanction this? So who was he?
"This is a Celt we found out their camp. She claims to be one of their leaders." The man who'd lead the attack stated.
"A Celt?" He spoke again. Where did she know that damn voice? "And here I thought we'd dealt with those heathens."
Ailbe's blood ran cold as she listened to the man speak. For a moment, it weighed on her who he was. She knew he was no one good, but had no concept of just how evil he was. And then she realised. She remembered that voice, and the fateful day in which shed heard it. How could she have ever forgotten? That voice had haunted her dreams for years.
"Let me see her." He ordered. Two men grabbed Ailbe harshly, leaving painful marks across her arm with their brutality. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of their leader's hand on her face as he examined her every feature. "She's blind." He laughed, looking at the men for an explanation. "A blind leader? Well that seems fitting."
"Téigh go hIfreann" She said with uncharacteristic rage. (go to hell)
There was only one person on this planet that the Irish princess had ever hated - and that was the man who killed her father.
The man that now had her.
"Ah there's that Celtic fire." He grinned maliciously. "I should like to keep this one myself." He ordered. "I wonder if they will miss you."
Ailbe felt a rage that she had never before felt, an anger that consumed her without warning. She spat in the King's face, a growl emanating from her as she fought the grip of the guards on her arms. "You're all dead." She threatened.
"Really?" The King laughed. "Do you think I fear those pagans or their crippled leader?"
At this, it was Ailbe's turn to laugh, "You will."
