Alone with A Woman, Michael Was Helpless

We arrived at the settlement by night.

The place was protected by tall wooden towers and wooden walls surrounding the whole area. There were bridges connecting the towers, with flags or banners waving, showing off a wolf emblem.

As our horse-drawn carts passed through the gates, I saw dozens of cottages with thatched roofs. Not much activity going on, probably because it was late, but there was an orange glow coming from the windows of each cottage.

The settlement was near a bay. I noticed some nets for drying fish and a small dock. But what really caught my eye was the longship.

That longship was huge. A group of people was still working on it, even though it was already night. Thanks to them, I could see the ship's structure clearly.

It was long and sleek, with the bow curving upward, decorated with a carved wolf's head. The hull was low, and the main mast stood tall in the center.

I'd always seen it in movies. But seeing one in person felt totally different.

"We're here. Everybody off."

We stopped in front of a big house. Compared to the other buildings, which were just cottages, this one stood out. I could tell this was their main spot.

Ingmar ordered his men to carry the injured inside the longhouse. As I followed, Ingrid stopped me. But she let Birna pass.

"You can't go in. You're coming with me," she said.

I glanced at Ingmar, but he seemed to agree with his sister.

I wondered if they were planning something during our trip here?

"He's with me. If he can't go in, then I won't either."

Birna stood up for me, making Ingrid hiss in frustration. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this situation. A grown man like me was being defended by a child—it was embarrassing.

"Hey, kid. Don't interfere with—"

Before Ingrid could finish, Ingmar stepped in, pushing her back with a hand on her chest. With a wide smile, he took over the conversation.

"Don't worry, Birna. We're not going to do anything to him. The longhouse is full, and with all the injured people, we're just finding him a bed," Ingmar reassured her.

"I can share a bed with him."

"That's not gonna work, Birna. You're the Jarl's daughter. People will talk about your father and damage his reputation."

Gritting her teeth, Birna looked pissed.

I had to admit, this kid was sharp. We both knew they were trying to separate us. I didn't know their reason, but it was clear they didn't trust me.

I couldn't keep relying on Birna.

"It's okay," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll sleep somewhere else. Besides, the injured need the space. I need you to stay with your people. Someone has to keep an eye on them."

"But…"

"It's fine, Birna."

She finally nodded. Ingmar put an arm around her shoulders and led her into the longhouse. Before going in, he looked back and gave me an innocent smile.

"Come on."

I followed Ingrid. Negative thoughts filled my head as I watched her back. I wanted to hit her head from behind and run away. But my instinct told me not to.

Maybe I could try to run from her, but I wasn't sure how to get out of this place. The settlement was surrounded by tall wooden walls on every side, except for the north, which was the bay. There was no way for me to escape.

We stopped in front of a large cottage. It was clearly bigger than the rest, but the first thing that hit me was the smell. It reeked.

"Get in."

As soon as I stepped inside, the sight of hay and scattered wooden posts told me all I needed to know. This place was a stable.

So, this was where they were putting me?

Suddenly, I felt a blunt object hit the back of my neck. It was so hard that I collapsed to the ground and couldn't move. Then, Ingrid dragged my body and tied me to a pillar.

I tried to keep my head clear, but my vision was blurry.

"You're pretty tough for a thrall. Most people would've passed out by now."

That snide voice could only belong to Ingrid. The crazy woman seemed to be enjoying this way too much.

"Let's cut the crap. You're part of the thrall group that was supposed to be taken to Iceland. But you ran away. Because of you, a bunch of other thralls tried to escape, too."

Thrall? Isn't that my occupation in the system?

I had no idea what a thrall was, but the way she spoke, the way she looked at me—it was like I wasn't even human. Like I was something beneath her. The lowest of the low.

Am I a slave? If so, everything started to make sense now.

"A thrall like you trying to mess with a Jarl's daughter... I don't know what trick you pulled to convince her, but you're gonna pay for it."

"I didn't do anything to her. I just helped the injured."

"Shut up!"

After that, punch after punch landed on my face. I never expected a punch from a woman to hurt like this. And this was my first time.

I didn't even bother explaining myself further. Whatever I said, she wouldn't believe me.

"You know what kind of punishment we give runaway slaves? Care to guess?"

I saw that sick smile spread across her face.

"Normally, we would beat, whip, or brand you. But your master, Ulfrik, would not be satisfied with such things. He hates escaped slaves the most. He will cut off your body parts one by one. Ears, nose, fingers, and even gouged-out eyes. He will keep cutting until you beg for death!"

Every word out of her mouth was the cruelest I'd ever heard. But oddly enough, I didn't feel scared or threatened at all. Maybe it was because I'd already faced death before. Or maybe she was just terrible at being intimidating.

"You'll die in the most painful way possible," Ingrid spat, laughing.

Instead of fear, I actually found myself chuckling.

"What's so funny?" she demanded.

"You," I said. "You're trying so hard to scare me. Every word you say is lame. You suck at this."

Naturally, the redhead lost it. She grabbed my collar, her fist ready to strike, but I wasn't done talking.

"You said I'd die painfully? That's hilarious. You're gonna die too. The axe Birna used to cut your hand was rusty. Tetanus will get you killed. The pain's way worse than whatever you've got planned for me. And even if you survive, you're gonna lose that hand."

I didn't know why I was provoking her. This wasn't like me, but damn, I was enjoying it.

Ingrid, on the other hand, was losing it. She was letting her anger completely take over.

"Shut up, thrall! How dare you speak to your master like that?"

"You're not my master. But Uldick is."

As I saw Ingrid grit her teeth, I closed my eyes. Then, punch after punch landed on my face. 

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Although my face was beaten, it didn't feel as painful as it did before.

"You son of a—!"

"Enough, Ingrid!"

A familiar voice echoed through the stable. I forced one eye open, just enough to see Ingmar standing in the doorway, bathed in moonlight. He looked like a guardian angel.

"I told you to interrogate him, not beat him," Ingmar scolded.

"This is part of the interrogation! I haven't even started yet!"

At her response, Ingmar rubbed his temple.

"Jarl Varin Styrbjornsson is awake. He wants to meet with him. What do you think the Jarl will say if he finds out we've been beating up his savior?"

"Who cares. He's just a thrall."

"A thrall who saved his life! For Odin's sake, Ingrid, use your brain! We need him. If he finds out we treated his savior like trash, do you think he's still going to trust us?"

Ingrid went silent. She turned away, avoiding her brother's gaze.

"I shouldn't have trusted you with this."

Ingmar's disappointment was obvious, and I could see Ingrid's clenched fists trembling as she tried to hold back her emotions. She finally stormed off toward the door, but Ingmar grabbed her arm before she could leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.

"Why do you care?"

"Someone's got to clean up your mess. Tend to his wounds. Make sure he's in good shape by morning. I'll handle the Jarl."

Without a word, Ingrid yanked her arm free and left. Ingmar let out a deep sigh.

He turned his attention to me, and I could see the curiosity in his eyes.

"Maikal, right? Birna told me everything. How'd you do it? Stitching up guts, flesh, and skin? Are you a seer? But seers don't do stuff like that. And seers are women. So, what were you before you became a thrall?" Ingmar squinted at me.

"I was a doctor," I answered.

"What's that?"

"Someone who saves lives."

For a moment, Ingmar's eyes widened, but then he chuckled.

"Interesting."

With that, he walked off, leaving me alone with the horses.

Staring up at the ceiling, I asked myself one question.

What's going to happen to me tomorrow morning?