Waging War Against the Heavens (Alvis and xanaphia)

Sleep was a blessed place for THorkell. It was quiet. Nothing was demanded of him. his mother had always told him to remain on his guard, adn to recall what he might see when he slept. His other had been barking mad byt he time his father had killed her. There had been no choice, Thorkell had been a boy, and he still carried the ragged scar on his back from the knife she'd wielded. She'd started screaming about the dead that would stalk his heels, the lives that he would destroy, and then he'd only known pain, the sharp edge fo steel to his back, and the struggle for life. His father had ended the issue, and had the local healer stitch his wounds, taking him on his first raid a year earlier than normal. Still, his sleep had not been troubled in decades.

The plain was open, adn they had nowhere to run, though not a man there saw fit to do so. Across from them stood the cream of the crop of Greek warriors, resplendant in scarlet cloaks, the bright chevron on their shield announcing their presence. The men looked hungry, desperate for war, and Thorkell looked to his sides. Thousands of his countrymen were here, he recognized many of hte jarls and warlords there. Splinters of legend walking the land, heroes and berserkers, blood-mad renegades and kings all stood together in a way that the world had never seen. There was a glow suffusing the greeks, and somehow Thorkell knew that their Gods were offering aid. A reddish fire trailed along Thorkell's hands, and he knew on some level that his own Gods would not let such stand unanswered. Arrows flew, adn horns blew, and the combined amry of the North came on in a wave-

THorkell snapped his eyes open, keeping his position fixed. He silently took stock of his situation and position. Althaeawas close to him, he could faintly feel the heat of her through his clothes, a sure sign that she'd been there for some time. Was this a side effect of contact with her, was he seeing a splinter of her gift in his dream? Gods forfend, he hoped not. If that was the burden she carried, she was welcome to it. He breathed a sigh, and let his eyes close. His arm shifted, adn fell on the outside of Althaea, not truly pulling her closer to hi, but keeping her where she was, and making sure she didn't go anywhere. If she moved closer, it was likely his arm would follow. He let sleep claim him once more.

"Movement?" Beorg asked one of the spotters near the entrance. The other man shook his head.
"All quiet. Farmers going about their business. From the sun, another hour, maybe two, and we'll be on the move." The spotter answered. Beorg nodded and moved back into the cave.

The last few hours passed easily, and Beorg lifted his shield, rapping on the metal boss with the hilt of of his sword, the sound jarring the people int he cave to wakefulness. Thorkell opened his eyes, and looked to his side to see the state of Althaea.
 
The rest of the afternoon was dreamless, or at least the images faded before they could be burned into her psyche. Whatever the case, she was thankful, for being woken by the sharp sound of metal on metal was jarring enough. She felt Thorkell by her, shifting slightly as he awoke alongside her.

Somehow they had ended up closer than she had fallen asleep, with his arm around her. Had she moved closer to him, or had he pulled her close? Did it truly matter, as it had clearly happened while they slept? She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest, and meeting his eyes with a nervous smile.

“I, umm,” she wasn’t even sure what to say in this situation. Thank you? I’m sorry? As if the swirl of emotions in her head over this man weren’t confusing enough. “I hope you didn’t mind.” I hope it can happen again, but she bit her lip before that could come out. She was supposed to look for an escape from this man, not more reasons to stay close. Even if his arms did feel nice, wrapped around her.

She pushed herself up, dusting herself, distracting herself from the thoughts in her head. The sky was a deep purple and orange from the setting sun, and by the time everyone had awoken and prepared themselves, it would be twilight. Althaea knew this part of the march is when they would be attacking the countryside. Harassing farmers and shepherds, people who had no stake in war. Even worse, she was lending her aid, using her gifts to direct the foreign barbarians in their raid. Was she selfish to safeguard her life in the face of what would happen? Was she cowardly, not to face her death head on?

The Vikings were likeable when they weren’t pillaging and killing, some more than other, but this was their life, in the end. This is what her life would be, if she stayed among them. Damn it all. She had to escape, tonight. There was no other solution Still, she readily herself to move out with the group, keeping her intentions hidden behind a blank face.
 
THorkell heard the hesitation in Althaea's voice, knew the conflict, or at least assumed there was some conflict. It was hard to say. She was a more difficult read than many of the people he knew. She was still so much of an unknown. He ran a few options on what to say to her, many of them crude, a few of them merely suggestive. But in the end he settled on the one that made the most sense.
"Mind? Nay. You could do many things that I might mind. That...won't be one of them." He told her as he heaved himself up, moving into the coming bustle of the men.

"Yrsa!" He called. The shield maiden that had led the way to the cave emerged quickly. "You have a spare shield?" THe woman unslung it, and offered it to Thorkell with a curious look. "I'll see it replaced back home." She nodded and set off to finish her preparations. Thorkell walked back to Althaea, and he offered her the shield, the grip facing her.

"If we end up coming under arrow fire, you will be glad you have this." He informed her. "You are clad like one of us, your own countrymen will likely kill you if they can when they see you. So keep up, it would be a shame to lose you." He had a moment that he thought to add something to harden the statement, but decided against it. No need now.

As the dusk began to properly settle in, the band assembled outside of the cave, a knot of hardened warriors. Thorkell had his axe in hand, his shield set, adn waved the band forward. They moved at a light trot towards the nearest farm house.

The jog was short, and the first sound to carry was the cry of a dying goat that wandered near them, slain out of hand by a passing warrior. A man stepped from teh house, looking debraggled like he'd been preparing for sleep. That proper rest never came as a warrior slew him with a thrown spear, staking him through the chest. His dying cry split the night in an informal annoucement that the raid was now in force. Warriors spread out, kicking through the doors of the out buildings, many of them emerging with bags of grain that they found, adn slung them into packs. What they couldn't carry they set to the torch. Thorkell waved teh warriors on, seeing htem cast torches at the roof of the house, but he urged them on before they could linger to see who else might be within. No time for anything but supplies and quick destruction.
"Onwards!" He roared, and near a hundred voices roared back in answering agreement. Thorkell kept close to Althaea, enough that he would be there if she came under direct attack.
 
Althaea took the shield, nodding at the logic he presented. Not many of the common soldiers would recognize her as the Oracle if they saw her. It briefly worried her plans, but clearly if she came to them, speaking proper Greek, she would be believed. Of course the difficult part was making it to them, without taking much damage or getting noticed by her foreign captors. Still, this couldn’t be her life, she would have to chance it. She would have to trust Athena to provide her opportunity.

“So keep up, it would be a shame to lose you."

The words struck her. Surely he just meant it would be a shame, because he wanted to make use of her gifts. The same amount of shame if he lost his favorite shield or weapon. She was just a tool to him, something he could use to raid more effectively. He didn’t truly care about her.

Did he?

Still, she held the shield in one hand as she set out with the group. Their first target quickly came into view, and a goat was the first casualty this evening. Once more she was forced to witness the bloodshed and destruction her visions had foretold, wondering for a moment if her sight had been a curse rather than a gift. Still, the gods did not curse her with false predictions, and they did indeed proceed with few obstacles in their path, and almost no patrolling guards for nearly a couple hours. The pace was easier on her tonight, physically, if not emotionally. She wasn’t taking part in the pillaging, nor had Thorkell insist she did. All she had to do was keep her eyes open for opportunity. A sign from the gods.

There were over half way finished with their task when they were set upon by a patrolling guard. A small force, a score at most, archers. Still, even a small bow unit could do some damage to a standing force, under the right circumstances. “Arrows incoming,” She warned, as the vision played before her eyes. Ducking beneath her shield in time to avoid the first volley. The group broke up immediately. No point in giving them an easy target, after all. Still, Althaea kept close to Thorkell, using her sight to sense when to block with her shield, unconsciously warning him as well, if he were of a mind to pay attention.
 
Her call did not go unheeded, and shields were brought into play quickly, instincts honed over years of battlefield expereince. Arrows hammered into the wood of shields, two careening off of the metal facing of Thorkell's. As the people scattered to force their foes to split their fire, Thorkell moved closer to Althaea, his axe hand coming to her shoulder, bringing her to crouch just a little, hiding more of herself behind the shield, and his shield edging into hers, making a two person shield wall. An arrow hit the stone boss of his shield, adn Thorkell saw the shattered bronze headed arrow scatter into the fading light. The group all shouted to one another, adn the archers all drew their weapons, firing a concentrated volley at one man. THe warrior cried out, arrows pircing his leg, while most did spend themselves on his shield.

Thrown spears and axes whipped out, savaging the archers, and they began to fall back. It was the fleet footed shield maidens that caught them. The women gave a grating screech of a cry that was only overcome by the sudden scream of pain and terror that came fromo the archers. It was over terrifyingly fast, every sweep of a weapon opening a fatal wound, several of the archers brought low by attackers on either side of them. The shield maidens moved on, blood spattered on their faces, Yrsa running her fingers across it smearing it into four lines than slashed her face. Warpaint, impromptu as it was. She woman flashed a grin towards Thorkell and Althaea, and moved to join the other warriors. The wounded man had managed to get the arrows out ofhis leg. He was limping, moving slower than the others, but made no noise of protest. He would keep up or be left behind.

They moved on from the farm, firing two more before Thorkell and the other caught sight of an obstacle. Hoplites, marching in formation, heading for them. There looked to be nearly forty of them. While they were outnumbered, the heavy armour and shields they carried, as well of the long spear made them potentially dangerous. And they couldn't leave them behind, not risking the pursuit. Thorkell knew what he had to do.
"Canute!" He shouted. The skald jogged back to him. "Look after the Seer. I've a task to perform." Canute nodded, turning his eyes to the coming scene, seeming to try and etch it into his mind.
"Pay attention now Seer. This is what we are." Canute told her, a smile on his face.

Thorkell jogged into the press of his men, and gave a wordless shout. A low, throbbing tone came as a warrior blew a war horn, calling hte Norse to the places. The Greeks marched on, advancing on the mass of warriors. The Norse moved in precise directions, forming into a tightly packed wall, five deep and ten wide, with a score to each flank, and ten acting as a reserve. The Greeks were outnumbered, but they came on without hesitation, and Thorkell respected them for it.
"Forward!" He roared. The Norse roared with him, and began a trot forward.

The wing of the block moved slower, trailing back, and the group stretched into a wedge. Thorkell was on the point, adn the wedge quickened their pace. Those that had them threw spears at the Greeks, most glancing from raised shields, but a few hammering into flesh, or sticking into the great bronze facings. Thorkell gave a wordless roar of battle fury, and the wedge exploded forward to close the last distance between the two groups.

Thorkell swpet spears aside with a sweep of his axe, getting him past the initial barrier of iron points, his shield scraping past the next, before he tucked his shoudler into the back of his shield and hammered home into the last spear points and shields. The Greeks were a packed mass, and did not fall from his hit. But the low sweep of his axe taking the lower leg from a man, that did open a gap. Barrelling forward into the mass, he laid in around him, forcing Greeks to turn to him or die, which damaged the wall of shields. Two warriors followed him, three following them, and Norse poured into the breach, reducing the ordered lines to a mass ruckus of a battle.

The sound when they hit was almost a physical thing and Canute smiled, knowing the sound all too well.
"You see how they move? The wedge? Our own God of war taught us such. No shield wall can stand against it. Your people have courage, but they have not changed how they fight in countless generations." He said idly to Althaea as the flanking units moved around to pin the Greeks in place, while the reserve waited for their need.
 
Althaea’s heart surged as she laid eyes on the phalanx. This was her chance to be freed of the Vikings. As much as she might have grown fond of Thorkell, or perhaps because she had grown fond of him, she knew she couldn’t stay by his side.

The phalanx was out numbered, that that wasn’t terribly concerning for her. The phalanx could overcome such things, and had in the past. It was these very tactics that had seen them victory in the Persian war, that had pushed back against the far larger force. But Thorkell left her side, left Canute in charge of her. She could only watch in dismay as Thorkell lead the charge, drove the wedge that decimated the overall structure of the phalanx. Once the front line was pierced, it all fell apart quickly, collapsing upon her hopes for rescue.

Rescue wasn’t an option, but escape still was. And this was as good a time as any. Most of the group was busied with the task at hand, Canute the only one tasked with watching her. He might have been more slender than Thorkell, but he was still far bigger than her. Stronger, and likely faster too. Smart too, he wouldn’t easily fall for any subterfuge. Was that why Thorkell had called for him?

She grabbed Canute’s arm, as the phalanx caved in on itself. “More archers approach from the south. You could catch them unawares, if we leave now. Otherwise they will come upon the group as they are distracted, and pick them off.” She pointed in the direction of the cliffs and caves, avoiding his meeting his eyes in case he caught the lies in hers. Without another word she took off in that direction.

If she didn’t make it far, she might be able to defend herself with excuses about trying to help the raid. She mistook her visions under the stress of combat. She wasn’t entirely sure she believed the excuses herself, but it was her only chance. Away from the group and the torches and fires, it would be harder for Canute to keep eyes on her.

The cliff wasn’t terribly high up, maybe 10 feet, and there were shallow caves and large rocks below. All she had to do was hide among the shadows until daybreak. By then the Vikings would have to leave on their boat, or risk being decimated by a much larger Greek force. She would be safe once more. Calling upon her faith for courage, she jumped down, landing hard, but still pushing herself. She ducked into the shadows of a cave, hoping she had managed to hide herself from Canute’s shadowing.
 
A spear thrust went past Thorkell's face, and he bulled forward, his mass pushing the hoplite back, his axe breaking the bronze faced shield nearly in two, and bowling him over. Another warrior stabbed through his neck, and then they moved on. The Greeks were stubborn, but fear was writ plain on their faces, fighting these foreign giants that seemed to slay without effort or care. Breaking the phalanx had very nearly broken their nerve right away, their formation had won them battles all through their history, as far back as anyone could recall. To see it shattered so easily...it shook every man to the core. They were not much trained for fighting in such an individual manner, and it was telling, each hoplite able to hold off one or two warriors, but most of them were being dragged down from behind, slaughtered without exception.

They fought to the last man.

Thorkell was breathing hard, looking around, picking out the wounded or fallen of his own people, and then for Althaea.

She wasn't where he had left her.

Canute was following after Althaea, his hackles up while he moved. Something was wrong here. When Althaea jumped, he jogged forward, looking down where she'd have landed. She as gone. She'd bolted, and he'd let her. He stood, and gave a piercing whistle, drawing the attention of several of the other warriors.

Thorkell led a small team while the majority of the warband stripped the foe of valuables, and made ready to move out.
"Where is she Canute?" Thorkell demanded.
"She claimed a vision that seems to be false. She slipped from my sight, but could not have gone far."
"Fan out! Find her! And quickly! We haven't much time." The band scatterd, moving in pairs mostly, while THorkell and Canute checked where she'd landed. There were tracks, adn they werte leading towards a cave. Thorkell growled. There was no telling how far int eh cave went, they could be in for a long hunt that they didn't have time for. But Canute was a boat companion, and if they went back without Althaea, Thorkell would be diminished, but the jarl might well kill Canute, skald or no.

"Let's go." Thorkell said, adn the two head for the cave, checking the tracks as best they could by moonlight.
 
Althaea was as silent as death as she hid. It was difficult, as her heart pounded and she tried to catch her breath, but she forced herself to be quiet. She could hear the distant movement of heavy feet, and she weighed her options. She could keep running, relying on the shadows of the moon to kept her obscured from view. But there were so many of them, if she came out from hiding there was a good chance someone would see her. She could use the sword and shield Thorkell had given her, and try to defend herself. But she had just seen the hoplites torn down with ease by these brutes, what chance she did have, without experience or strength? She could stay hidden, and hope they would give up. It was the only option with any chance of success.

Prepare yourself, my child. The voice was everywhere, and nowhere all at once. It was unmistakable to Althaea. You will be captured once more. There will be punishment, but you will still have your life.


Punished? What will become of me?

You will endure, and you will draw strength from this. You yet have a part to play in the upcoming battle.

Battle? But the voice was gone, replaced by Thorkell’s voice. Althaea curled herself into a ball, shivering as the heavy footsteps drew closer to her, knowing that she would not be able to escape or hide any more.
 
Thorkell was annoyed, knowing that this was costing them time. Time they might not have to spare. Canute took point, and Thorkell let him. If Canute lost her, but then found her it was a far lighter blow to his honour than otherwise. It only took another moment before Canute found Althaea, seeing her huddled to the ground in a ball, and he fetl a thrill of anger.
"Get up. You've cost us more than enough time." Canute all but snarled. He was an even tempered man by nature, but being made a fool of wasn't something he was fond of experiencing. His hand gripped her arm, and he hauled her to her feet, all but dragging her out of the cave. Thorkell glowered faintly at her, seeming to be more disappointed in her than anything. He gave a sharp whistle, and the other searchers gathered close to him. "More archers, eh?" Canute asked her acidly. Before another word was spoken, Yrsa fell to the ground, an arrow in her face.

Shields snapped to high port, and more arrows stuck intot he wooden faces, a few skittering away from Thorkell's heavier shield. When the next volley hit, Thorkell gave a bark of command in Norse, and the shields split, warriors throwing spears at their foes. The Greeks had needed to move close, due to the terrain, but that opened them up to the counter attack. Most of the new comers fell, but a few held their nerve to fire off a few more shots. THe Norse replied with thrown axes or knives, killing the boldest of hte archers, while the others fled.

Thorkell looked at the ruin left from the attack. His fist clenched on the haft of his axe, all the tension of his body focusing there. It would be a simple thing to split Althaea from skull to stomach, he'd barely notice the blow. But the Seer was not his to kill. He saw three warriors down, arrows in vital locations, and then one of them stirred. Yrsa hoisted herself to her feet, turning to look at Thorkell, the arrow that had struck her through her cheek. She snapped off the shaft, and then spat out the bloody arrowhead, a sickening grin on her face. She'd be scarred, assuming that infection didn't kill her, but she was alive. Thorkell nodded to her, and Yrsa took off at a run to make sure the band was in motion. They'd wasted so much time already.

"We're moving." THorkell ordered, the men nodding. He turned a gaze to Althaea. "And I will settle with you...soon." He shook his head a moment, adn then a warrior nudged her forward, the group heading at a heavy jog to catch up with the rest of the band.
 
Canute wretch Althaea from her hiding place, disturbing, even as she knew it was going to happen. His grip was tight around her arm, almost painful, especially for one such as her who didn’t engage in combat, ever. She met Thorkell’s gaze, and in disappointment in his eyes almost hurt as much as the hand grasping her. She wasn’t what he thought she was. She wasn’t sure she would ever be what he thought she was.

As she stepped from the cave, she wondered what her punishment might be. When she was a slave, such an act would have gotten her whipped. Is that what she had to prepare herself for? Or the fate intended for the poor shepherdess, before Thorkell killed her. Whatever he had in mind, Thorkell didn’t seem interested in meting it out now, not while her little escapade cost them valuable time.

Nor was it even an option as she sense actual archers descending on their position. She didn’t bother saying anything this time, figuring she would be ignored for crying wolf again. Instead she defended herself as best as she could with her shield. Things quickly grew chaotic, and suddenly she was wishing she had waited just a bit longer to try and make her escape, covered by actual archers would have given her a much better chance of fleeing.

Three men had died to the Archer’s arrows, and she wondered if she would be blamed for that. It didn’t matter now, all she could do was move forward, and trust that Athena was indeed watching out for her. So she jogged alongside the group as she was supposed, having a harder time keeping up with their pace after pushing herself so hard in the wake of her attempted evasion. More than once she was yanked, pulled along with far less patience that she had been show on the way here. Was to be expected, of course. At least there was no more concern that she might develop further feelings for Thorkell. That ship had sailed now.

The dawn was breaking, and the ships were on the horizon. Once more she would be loaded in the boat, alongside the rest of the ill-gotten loot from this raid. Taken back to their little isle, where punishment awaited her. If Thorkell didn’t decide to to start it on the ship.
 
The trip to the ship was tense, there was an air of almost palpable violence in these men. Smoke rose from behind them, farms abalze, and the dead warriors stripped of all they woudl not need in the afterlife, adn cast into the flames. It wasn't a proper pyre, but it was the best they could do, and the rising flames and smoke would still carry their spirits high enough for the Valkyries to find them. The ship pulled itself up to shore, and the warriors began to clamber aboard. Althaea was all but tossed onto the deck, Thorkell right behind her. Words exploded out the moment the men were all aboard.

"Sigvald is dead! Dead because that bitch betrayed us!" A man roared, storming towards Althaea. Canute stepped back, not looking interested in interfering. A chorus of suggestions flew at her as the man advanced.
"Rip her eye out!"
"Knock the teeth from her skull!"
"Fuck her bloody!" The last received a chorus of cheers and support, but as the man reached for her, Thorkell stepped in between Althaea and her would be attacker. The warrior was a big man, but he looked almost small compared to THorkell, who had pulled himself to his full height, wearing threat like a cloak around him.


"Are you claiming a weregild from her?" Thorkell asked, his voice oddly calm, almost muted.
"Damned right I am! Sigvald was my brother! I will have vengeance!" The warrior spat.
"So be it Svein. But since you claim weregild, then it requires a proper hearing. We'll hold a lantern council once we're at sea. But we can't stay here." There was a murmuer of faint approval at the suggestion.
"Thorkell-"
"You claim weregild, as is your right under Odin's Law. But if you deny a proper hearing, you disgrace the Allfather himself. Is that your intent?" The silence was palpable, the only noise the lapping of watter at the hull, the faint sea breeze.
"No. I will await council." The warrior moved off, his anger still present, but seemingly dampened at least. The ship lurched into motion, the oars moving them along, trying to get far enough out for the sail.

Thorkell stood at the tiller, steering them, near to where Althaea had been tossed aboard.
"You'll have a chance to speak." He said flatly, this time in Greek. "Were you a member of the band, you would have a measure of protection through the jarl. As you are not, you are alone. They will require explanation for what happened. And recompense for the losses." He paused in his speech, finally turning to look at her. "I would ask for an explanation first. Whether it be the same as you tell them, I care not. But I would hear it from you first."
 
Althaea tried not to show the terror on her face as the men began suggesting ways she might be punished for her escape attempt. But when a man lunged for her, to the cheers of men suggesting she be raped, she flinched, cowering behind slender arms. Still, Thorkell came to her defense. Putting off whatever they intended to do to her, if not preventing it. It was but a small comfort. For a while attention was diverted towards getting the ship away from shore, and she tried to find some resolve in the warning from her Goddess.

There will be punishment, but you will still have your life. You will endure, and you will draw strength from this.

She would live though whatever they intended to do to her. The goddess assured her that this was a blessing, and she wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it, to cling to some hope in this hour of despair.

“I will endure,” she whispered in Greek, pushing back the fears, “I will draw strength from this.”

Then Thorkell was talking to her, in Greek as well. Explaining what was going to happen. Asking for an explanation of his own.

“Thorkell, I’m not like you. I don’t find glory in the death of others, especially not my own countrymen. I don’t seek to live out my days on the battlefield, or end my life in war. I only seek to serve my Goddess, and spread her word. You said you would run far away from the prison of a temple, run until you felt the glory in the air. You said fight to have a life of your own choosing. Travelling amongst your people might not have me condemned to a cell, but it is a prison all the same. This is me, fighting for a life of my own choosing, instead of a life enslaved to you. I saw the shepherdess’ death as an omen, a warning from the gods. I mistook it perhaps, or perhaps this was the fate I was being warned of. The Gods are not always clear when they speak.” She sighed as she finished defending herself, resting her head on her knees as exhaustion of the day weighed upon her. But once they were safely out to sea, she was called upon to answer for her betrayal, and the men who died.

“I didn’t kill anyone. Your men died to archers, defending their homes. I did not call upon archers to kill them. Your men died because you come to shore of Athens, and attack their farms. I did not give you this task, nor did I promise that everyone would indeed survive it. Your men paid the price of their marauding, a price you will all pay in time if you continue along this path.

“I have nothing of value with which to pay the blood price. Any valuables I could lay claim to were taken by you very raiders, when you sacked the temple and took me hostage. I wear the only possession I can claim to own.”
 
Thorkell sighed, closing his eyes. Althaea was not terribly helpful in her words. Fighting for her own freedom, indeed. He had to walk carefully in his next few actions. In such a situation, Thorkell would normally call on Canute, the finest of the Law Speakers that he knew, but Canute was more likely to be opposing him. He had to keep this focused, not let the anger that was simmering in the warrios spill over. If that happened, there was no way to maintain any level of control. When things settled, and the sail was filled, pushing them towards home, the men moved with purpose, gathering towards the middle of the ship, several of them lighting lanterns. Four of them were lit, before Canute lifted a spear, and drove it into the deck, having it stand upright. It was a sign, a symbol, that this was not just a council, this was a hearing under the auspices of the Allfather.

What they did now was sacred.

"I call this felag to order. Brothers, sisters, we will hear now the charges against the Seer." Thorkell said calmly. The use of 'Seer' as opposed to her name was deliberate. He had to keep them focused on what she could do for them, her gift was priceless. Her body was simply that, a body.
"Treason!" The voice hissed, and it was echoed in approval. Thorkell waited a moment, and then let Althaea speak. It was...not the most stunning defence that one could muster. Thorkell knew that the way this was going he wasn't going to be able to absolve her completely. Not without a miracle.

"She says nothing worth hearing! She led our men to death! We would have been long gone from there had she not gone missing!" The voice called once more, adn there was a building violence in the air, a wave of threat that was getting close to breaking when Thorkell stepped back into the lantern light.
"Canute." He said flatly. The smaller man looked up at Thorkell. "What did she say about the ridge?" There was a moment of tense silence. Canute wanted to lie, knowing what rune Thorkell was playing. But this was a sacred hearing.
"That there would be archers on the ridge. And that if we left quickly, we might take them off guard." The words were reluctant, quiet, but honest. There was a murmur, and Thorkell felt the impending violence dissipate.

"And she led you there. To where they came." Thorkell pressed. Canute nodded. The murmur came again.
"Ingavain's blind eye Thorkell! Good men are dead because of her-" the warrior who had claimed grievance against her began, but Thorkell cut himoff.
"Her cowardice? That is the word you seek."
"Treason! I know what word I seek!"
"You clearly do not. Treason involves loyalty. A vow, an oath. Was anything such as that sworn by her?" More silence, faint murmurs, the momentum of accusation taken from the mass of warriors. "She has sworn nothing of the sort. She cannot betray that which she is not sworn to."
"Then she has no protection from our vengeance! If she is not one of the band, not bound by oath, then she cannot be protected!" Thorkell nodded, and turtned to Althaea.
"He is right." He let the momet go for a few heartbeats, knowing he was likely overstepping his bounds with teh Jarl in this moment, but he saw no other way. "Unless you swear an oath now."

THe warriors all shouted in protest, but Thorkell raised a hand, and as the leader of the raid, he still had the right of their loyalty.
"Swear it now, before these warriors, and before the Gods." He left that term ambiguous. The men woudl think nothing of it, but he knew Althaea would not. "Swear to work no harm onto this band. Swear it now, by star..." He waved a hand at the field of stars over them, and the men stared, kowing what he was doing, the risk he took to himself. "...by moon..." He drew out the heavy fighting knife in his belt, stepping a little closer to her, and raising the knife. "...and by blood. Swear this oath now Althaea, or face the wrath of these men as no more than a prisoner to them." He stared her in the eye, daring her...daring her to truly take a step towards earning her freedom in the band, to rise to his challenge.
 
Althaea was quiet as the men spoke, arguing her case. How a captive could be guilty of treason, she didn’t know, but her arguments didn’t seem to sway them, so she thought it better to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t have the energy to argue, saving her strength for the punishment that would be meted out.

What surprised her was how hard Thorkell argued in her defense. Even in demanding that she be given a trial, and a chance to defend herself. What did it mean? Did he see her as more than a prize he had taken from Athens? See her as more than the gifts she had received from her Goddess? Was there indeed something more there? Or was he just concerned that if the men began beating and raping her they would be impossible to control?

Of course, as the arguments continued, she begun to see the goal that Thorkell was driving at. He argued that she could not be guilty of treason, as she never had any loyalty to the band. It was sound reasoning, and none could argue with him at that point. Instead they argued whether a prisoner could be given any consideration at all. Now Thorkell’s goal was clear, to force her to pledge the loyalty he wanted from her.

There had to be some irony in that. Trying to escape from Thorkell was bringing her closer to him, binding herself to him. Well, to the band, of which he was the raid leader. It was supposed to be a choice, her own choice, but it was anything but that. To refuse was to allow herself to be subject to the worst abuses they subjected their captives to. There was no choice in this manner. She would swear her loyalty, and swear away any further escape attempts. Only the gods could sunder the chains of her words now.

She rose, meeting Thorkells eyes, feeling the loathing and disgust pouring off everyone else in the ship. If she swore this oath to escape a crueler fate, she would earn far greater hatred from the men than they felt now. Thorkell was the only one who wanted this. Who would rather she was a member of their band than another woman raped by his men. But Thorkell commanded a great deal of authority, and he was her only ally now. She couldn’t bear to disappoint him again.

“I, Althaea, swear, before the gods, my loyalty to this band. I swear by the stars, and the moon, and the blood that courses through my veins, to work no harm to the band. I swear to bring it glory, to my dying breath.” She took the blade and hesitated for only a moment before slice open her palm, watching the crimson fluid pool in her fist, and drip onto the wood beneath her.
 
Thorkell looked at Althaea as she swore, as the words came from her in a way that he ahdn't told her. He'd intended to walk her through what the oath must entail, but instead she simply spoke the core of what made his people who they were. Seekers of Glory, and Keepers of Oaths. As she spoke, as she made the cut, spilled her own blood, the warriors had fallen silent in that moment, watching hte moment. It wasn't the way they normally saw an oath sworn, but it was enough to satify their requirements. As she finished, there was a brilliant flash of lighting across teh sky, and the boat seemed to shake as thunder cracked through the air, harsh enough to shake the planks of the ship. There was a look of awe on the faces of the warriors, staring at the clear sky, knowing that no natural lightning coudl have come.

Thorkell was among them, honestly shaken. But he knew he had to cement the moment in their minds.
"Does anyone dispute this ruling?" He asked quietly, the echoes of the thunder still fading. No one moved. "Do you withdraw your call of weregild?"
"I cannot. My brother fell, and I must have recompense." The reply lacked all of the fire and passion that he had possessed before, a simple quiet fact now.
"Then will you allow her the chance to earn her share, earn her take to repay your loss?"
"Aye. I owe a...member of the band no less." The words were still hard to say. There was going to be hate still, distrust, and liely more than one plot against Althaea, but in the wake of what had happened, none would risk lifting a hand against her. Thorkell had bought her time. Him, and the intervention of what could only be a power beyond man. The council broke up, the spear pulled from the deck, the lanterns extinguished, and the warriors not needed for the steering of the ship finding a place to collapse to try adn sleep. Thorkell let out a breath, adn moved back to the tiller, taking back up the role of steering the ship.

"Althaea." He said in his broken Greek. "You must know this. There is little more reviled among my people as an oath-breaker. I cannot say that I know if you swore that oath to save yourself. But I choose to believe that you made the oath in good faith. That you will abide by said oath. And you should know that you have taken your first step on teh road to your own freedom."
 
Althaea stood firm as the lightning streaked the sky and shook the boat. She did stiffen slightly, but she doubted it was anything anyone else noticed. The gods were paying attention. But which Gods? Was it Zeus? Was he signaling his approval…or his disapproval? Or perhaps it was their gods. Which of theirs had dominion over lightning? She was sure the shield maidens had told her, but what had it been? That’s right, Thor, like Thorkell. She remember the story they told her, about the Seer, Sif, and her ascendance to godhood as Thor’s wife. The sudden memory of it, along with Thorkell’s impassioned defense of her made her feel flushed, and she hoped the blush wasn’t too obvious to anyone looking.

It seemed there would be no price to pay now. No rape, no whipping. Just the forfeiture of her freedom, and future shares. Was this what Athena had warned her of? The punishment that she would endure, and gain strength from? Or what that to come, when they returned to the island?

She settled back down against the side of the boat, hoping to get a bit of rest like she noticed many of the other members doing. She was nodding off when Thorkell spoke with her once more, in his best Greek, warning her against breaking the oath she had just spoke.

“So long as I can remain devoted to Athena, I will abide the oath. Seeing as my faith is the only reason you care about me, you will surely understand why it is my priority. Whether or not this leads to any freedom remains to be seen. But…thank you. You had no reason to defend me so gallantly, yet you did. I am indeed indebted to you.”

Soon the rhythm of the waves lapping at the boat lull her into a brief rest. It was Dawn when she awoke again, and the ship was docking on the island. Althaea forced herself alert, knowing that Thorkell might have saved her the wrath of the band, who had to obey him, but he would not be able to protect her if the jarl sought to punish her. She had little doubt in her mind that he would find out about her escape attempt, or the lives lost in the subsequent attack. All she could do was to brace herself for what was to come, as she followed Thorkell back.
 
THorkell was one of the last off of the ship, knowing that he had the best chance of answering for what happened as the raid leader if the Jarl wasn't fighting to get both sides of what happened at once. Still, the raid was a success. Not as resounding as the one that had captured Althaea, but this had been a far grander scope. He could feel Althaea near him, knew she was still behind him as they trudged up the path to the main hall. Thorkell was not going to mince words today, he would do all he could and that would be the end of it.

The hall was quiet, and Thorkell knew that it could only mean that the jarl was waiting for them. He squared off his shoulders. Nothing for it now, there was no pointn in speaking to Althaea about it. Preparation was a moot point. It would be down to the wishes and will of the jarl now.

The hall door was open, and Thorkell didn't hesitate to enter. The torches were burning, throwing the room into a harsh glow. The jarl was not lounging on his throne as he usually was. He was on his feet. That...was not a good sign.
"Thorkell! Your raid returns, laden with plunder and food!" The jarl announced magnanimously, spreading his arms.
"It does jarl." Thorkell answered.
"And your men have told me you found the Greeks ready for battle! And you led our people to triumph and glory over them."
"A smal group of them, they lacked the numbers to bring us to proper battle. But they fought hard, and several of our people will surely find their place amongst the Einherjar."
"And your Seer? What of her?" Thorkell took a deep breath, but hte Jarl cut him off. "They say she ran. That she abandoned your people, and led them to ambush."
"She said that there would be archers upon a ridgeline. And went there with Canute to head them off. We found her within a cave."
"And the archers?"
"Arrived, attacking us. We lost several to them." There was a moment of pause. Thorkell had been hoping that this woudl come up. It threw doubt on whether Althaea had fled to escape, or from simple fear.

"She abandoned the band Thorkell. And they tell me you had her swear oath on the return trip." The jarl said flatly.
"I did." Thorkell confirmed.
"You reach beyond your station Thorkell. A prisoner you had offered to me, you now set free without my leave."
"I did as I saw fit to preserve her usefulness and gifts. How much greater a boon when an oath to bring glory to us is freely given?" That brought a pause from those assembled.
"She swore to bring glory without your demand?"
"She did." Thorkell confirmed. "She swore by star, by moon, and by blood. She is now one of the band."
"So she is. And so I will not punish her flight fromt he battle as thouugh she was a prisoner. But as one of us." Thorkell felt his heart sink.

There it was. The jarl was exercising his rights as their leader to mete out a punishment that ccould not be countermanded. The jarl lifted a long staff, bound periodically with bands of iron to keep it intact, and lend weight to it. Not quite a lethal implement, but certainly a painful one.
"Ragnar, Wulfgar. Hold her." The jarl demanded. Two of the largest men from the band stepped forward, seizing on Althaea's arms, adn pulling them out to her sides. The jarl offered the staff to Thorkell. "Will you do the honours?"
"No. You would not trust my swing, and only lengthen it." The jarl smiled.
"You grow keen Thorkell. So be it." He held the staff out, letting it linger before Althaea's eyes, before he stepped around behind her. Taking the staff in both hands, the jarl began to swing.

The leather armour was left on her, not out of mercy, but because the jarl knew he could put that much more force into the blows. The first one rocked Althaea, even in the grip of the other men, the armour barely dulling hte pain from the hit. The jarl swung again, and then again, and then fell into a steady rhythm of abuse. Thorkell stood ini front of Althaea watching the whole proceeding with a twinge of distaste. This was not helpful. But he knew it was...just was too strong of a word, but something in that line of thought.

It went on for a long time, at least it seemed to. The jarl paused, raising the staff to tap on Althaea's upper arm, and drew back to swing. There was a loud crash as Thorkell stepped in to catch the blow on hit shield. There was only silence in the room as all eyes watched.
"You go too far jarl. Such a strike would break the bone, adn thus make her useless in a fight. The band will not have those unable to carry their own weight." Thorkell remarked.
"Perhaps I got ahead of myself! Very well, take her Thorkell, and see that she is made...useful to us once more as soon as possible." The men released her, and Thorkell caught her. Even with the armour, he could see vicious black bruising beginning to form on her back. The jarl had been specific in his attack, and no bones had broken, but the flesh and muscle would be a ruin of pain. Not bothering to wait longer, Thorkell lifted her from the ground, and carried her back to his home.
 
As expected, the Jarl immediately began questioning Thorkell about the raid, and about her escape attempt in particular. Thorkell did what he could to protect her from the worst of the Jarl’s wrath, and she would not escape punishment altogether. Of course not, Athena had warned her of this. Prepared her, as much as one could be prepared for such a thing.

Still, even knowing it was coming, she was caught off guard as two warriors grabbed her, either one more than strong enough on his own to hold her in place. She fought for only a moment, out of reflex more than anything, before giving in. She would have her life. She would endure, and draw strength from this. And the Jarl produced a staff, sturdy, and bound with iron that made her stiffen. Not a whipping then. She had been whipped before. Not in many years, since she was a child slave, but it was familiar. A staff? What would this do to her?

Not that she was given much time it imagine. The first hit crashed into her back, sending a savage wave of agony rippling throughout her body. She would have fallen right onto her face were it not for the warriors holding her in place. Screaming out ,she was unable to hold back in the slightest. Pain was not her world, pain was far removed from her. A pampered life in the prison of them temple, as Thorkell viewed it, perhaps. Freedom so far was painful, and cruel. The pain from the first swing was still sinking in as the next came, and the next and the next. Each reignited the original pain, compounded with new pain. Her cries echoed the jarl’s swings, louder that the impact of wood and metal on leather. For a while she looked to Thorkell seeking strength in his gaze. But her eyes watered as the punishment continued, and before it was done her eyes were blinded with tears, those same salty tears streaking her face.

She lost count of the hits, counting only on the rhythm of his strikes. Her screams lost their energy after some time, voice hoarse and throat raw, a particularly well place hit knocking the air form her lungs. She was shuddering as He tapped her shoulder, a wordless warn of where the next strike would land. She tensed in anticipation, praying to Athena that it might soon end. The sound of the staff smashing into metal rung in her ears, adding a headache to the torment of her bruised back. She didn’t even hear Thorkell’s words, just his voice, coming to her aid, once more.

She tried to stand on her own legs as her arms were finally released, but the trembling limbs could not possibly support her after that. She fell, expecting to the meet the hard ground, but landing against the hard armor clad form of Thorkell instead. She was a mess of gasping mewling sobs, clinging to Thorkell as he cradled her in his arms. The trip to his house wasn’t long, but she felt every step in the ache of her back. Even once they were alone, and he carried her to the room he had given her, she clung to him, unwilling to let go as he laid her down.

“Don’t…don’t go,” She whimpered, in his language or hers, she wasn’t sure. “Please…I need…” She didn’t know. She didn’t know what she needed, or what the words were, but her fingers curled into his armor and shoulders and her body quaked with distress. Instead of words she just buried her head in his neck. “Hold me.”
 
Thorkell could only blink in surprise as Althaea curled herself into him, clinging to him for dear life. WHat was left in her mind noe? He ahd to wonder just how much such a savage assault on her would affect her. That much pain with no real way to do anything but suffer, and the mind could shatter without some way to find it's way back. He supposed that was going to have to be him. He was not well known for his comforting personality, but...her need was great.

He shifted himself, sitting on her bed, and keeping her close to him, but avoiding the discoloured ruin of her back. The armour had protected her from permanent damage, but the more he looked at her back, the more he realized that her armour was going to be her worst enemy right now. He grit his teeth, and shifted her again.

His fingers found the ties for the armour, loosening them some, letting the laces on the armour fall from their taut positions. It revealed teh skin on her back, showing the full extent of her injuries. She was going to be sleeping on her stomach for some time, that much was for certain. With the laces in such a state, the armour was all but falling off of her, but Thorkell just left her close to him. This way at least the swelling wouldn't be made all the worse byt the leather.

His hand rested lightly on her side, on unbruised skin, the rough callous of his hand a sharp contrast to teh smooth skin he found htere.
"I've got you Althaea." He said quietly to her, not knowing what else he could really say.
 
Althaea had been terrified that he would just leave her there, alone in the room. Weren’t tears a sign of weakness? Yet they were strong enough to hold this warrior close to her, a man who had little reason to care about her feelings or pain. He held her without protest, his hands conscientious of her injuries. She was able to start calming down, her sobs shrinking to heaving breathes and soft sighs.

There was a moment of tension as she felt his fingers work at the laces, working her armor off her skin. But as soon as it came loose, she felt immediate relief. Sudden modesty took a back seat to comfort, even as she felt the breeze caress her bare skin. Her leather only stayed on because her body was pressed against his, trapped between them. It didn’t matter now, though. She felt protected by Thorkell, as if he would never hurt her.


You will survive. You will endure, and draw strength from this.

His warmth was soothing; his strength, comforting; his touch, welcomed. “Thank you,” She managed as her breathing became even, and the worst of the pain was dying down to a throbbing ache. Still quite harsh, but it felt manageable. As long as she didn’t walk or move or breathe hard. “Would you sleep with me?” She asked, before catching herself, “Beside me, I mean. Like we did in the cave?” She wasn’t sure sleep would come easily or anytime soon, but the security of his embrace had her almost relaxed. As relaxed as she could be in this situation.
 
Moments in time could change a person. Thorkell had known this for most of his life, having been a part of several powerful moments that had changed not only him, but others. The death of his mother, his father, the beginning of the Volgan's great raiding career. All of these moments changed thigns for him. He was starting to think that his bringing of ALthaea back tot he island with him was another large moment that he hadn't been anticipating.

Her presence changed things, in more ways than just a woman's presence changed thigns for a man. She made him aware of the other side of his life, not enough to consider changing it, but enough to consider whether he'd ever take a prisoner like her again. If there ever would be another person like her. She made him responsible for her in some ways, though he knew that on some level he could simply walk away from her and let fate take it's course, but something deep inside of him told him that what came would not be in the best interest of himself and the band. Besides. There was spirit to her. One that was worth preserving he believed. He'd known one other man to take a similar action with a prisoner, but then that prisoner hadn't been a Seer, and he hadn't taken that risk while in hostile territory.

But maybe Althaea was worth those risks.

It was hard to say for certain.

When she spoke of sleeping, he had a momentary instant of thought to her meaning, a request that might make sense given how her armour was. But she corrected herself, and if he was honest, he would have declined her such a thing right now anyway. The state of her back would likely have made such a thing much worse. Staying near her like this meant essentially just shifting on her bed. It had been his before she'd come into his life this. Sleeping in his armour was not a comfortable thing to do, but he'd done it a thousand times before, and would another thousand most like. One more night would not change anything in that regard.
"Aye. I will." He told her, shifting only slightly on the bed to let him lean back, keeping her close to him. There was an moment of instinct, the want to say more, do more, show some other sign to her, but he let it fade. Right now what was goign to be needed was someone there to keep her safe in this world that she'd found herself in. Once she'd recovered, there was much she was going to have to learn.
 
Althaea managed a weak smile when Thorkell agreed to sleep at her slide, without even making a comment about her slip of the tongue. The weak smile turned into a wince as he shifted to get comfortable, each slight movement reignited the fire of pain that was her back now. But soon he was settled, and she shifted with great effort to find her own comfortable spot in his arms. It wasn’t easy, the pain in her back, the armor that wasn’t even on her properly now, his own armor, but if he moved she’d be exposed to him, and the pain would be worse. So she just lied there quietly, hoping to adjust.

Would they sleep like this from now on? The wasn’t so terrible. It was even nice. She liked the way his hands felt against her, even harden form years of wielding weapons. But were would it go from there? Would he be satisfied without more of her? Would she be satisfied without more of him? He felt good against her when they both wore armor, how would it feel without the armor? Or without clothes?

She was blushing as she imagined Thorkell nude, and she was beyond grateful that he was already asleep at this point. Whether she could actually bring herself to taking things further with him were another question for another day, as well as the question if he wouldn’t just take it from her in payment for having protected her so far. But she didn’t want to think about that. She just wanted to live in the pleasant fantasy of sleeping in his arms each night.

Sleep didn’t take long, as much pain as she was in. She had hardly slept on the ship over, and she had marched the entire night before, in addition to her escape attempt. Adding the emotion distress of her trial and her punishment, staying awake would have been more difficult in the moment. And truthfully, there was something nice about Thorkell’s heat and body against hers.

In her dreams, she saw war. She often saw war, but there was something different this time. It was…bigger. The effects of this war would be felt far and wide, and it may very well be the very souls of everyone she knew or would ever know.

“Why do you always show me war? Why not peace?” She asked the presence she felt beside her.

“War is the way of Gods and men.”

“Why show me?”

“Because, the outcome of this battle will depend upon you, and the choices you make.”

“On me?”

But the time for dreaming was over, as she found herself waking. The pain that she felt before falling asleep had dulled considerably. Far more than it should have. Enough that getting up wasn’t difficult. And Thorkell was still asleep, so even as her armor slipped from her body, she wasn’t so concerned with being exposed before him. The dress she had worn when she was first capture was sitting on the floor, dried from when she had cleaned it. She was able to slip into it without much trouble, and she could only marvel at how easy movement was now. Simple sleep wasn’t enough to rejuvenate form her injuries. Only divine intervention could explain her miraculous recovery.

She cuddled back up to Thorkell, not really sleepy anymore, but enjoying the way he felt against her. Even as hunger gnawed at her gut, she didn’t want to face the Jarl, or the other members of the band without Thorkell close.
 
Thorkell looked around him, seeing nothing but light and heat. Fire. It was fire all around him, and he knew that there was somehting to this, something he was missing. Words from his mother came to mind, that all things that happened within dreams had meaning. But then she'd been mad. But had there been something within her madness that even he should be paying heed to? The haet was ooppressive, but not overpowering. He started to walk, until he finally seemed to emerge from the fire, and as he turned back, saw teh great blaze. There was nothing else around him. Just fire and darkness. The roar of the flames went on, and Thorkell paused. If there was nothing to see, then perhaps...?

The roar took on something that resembled words, and what was more, that very thought terrified him. The Fire Sermon went on until his eyes snapped open.

He was still at home, still in bed, and his eyes flicked around the room. He saw the armour that Althaea had been wearing in a heap on the floor, and he then looked down. She was there still, curled to him, but now wore the dress she had before. It was a relief on some level to find her in such a state, and somewhat disappointing as well.

But that meant she had left, changed...and then come back.

It made sense, he'd done much to support her lately, so it only stood to reason she might feel very attached to him. But there was a sense of...enjoyment in that for him, like that feeling might not only go one way. And that was a curious thing. So far the greatest thing she had done for him was trouble his dreams and create a great deal of stress in his life. And yet here he was, ready to cintinue to defend her.

Althaea was not asleep, simply remaining close to him. What was more, he coudl see a glimpse of her back, just a small amount of it, but it should have been covered in the dark bruising of what she ahd endured. There was a flutter of uncertainty. Of fear. He kept it tamped down. He needed to keep his wits about him.
"Fair morning Althaea." He said quietly. I trust you managed to sleep well?" He asked her with a faint smile.
 
She sat up as she felt Thorkell stir, body still close enough to fell him against her. She didn't want to disentangle from him, and the desire confused her. Before him, celibacy was easy. It was never something she had to pay any mind to. Longing was removed from her. She had thought her immunity to lust was another gift from her Goddess, but sleeping alongside Thorkell dispelled that belief. Was this a test of her faith? Of her devotion?

She watched him as he woke, as he processed what had happened. That she had recovered almost completely from her punishment. A dull ache lingered, but nothing that would get in the way of normal activity. No wincing if he touched her back, no straining to shift and move in bed, only the slightest slow down when she walked.

She observed his eyes sweep over her, and noticed the brief tensions in his gaze. Her miraculous healing did not sit as well with him as it id with her. It wasn't the first boon she had received form Athena, not even the first she received since her capture. Was he concerned with the favors she had been shown? Was the proof of her Goddess' power disturbing to him, as a non believer?

"Fair Morning, Althaea. I trust you sleep well?" He was smiling, as close he tended to get to smiling, as he asked the question, hiding or pushing down his uncertainty. She felt a flush warm her cheek as she met his eyes, his concern for her continuing to endearing him to her.

"I did. The Goddess watches over my sleep, and that is enough to ensure a restorative rest. But, I am sorry you had to sleep in your armor, again." She apologized, briefly imagining him without armor which darkened the scarlet that already glowed on her cheeks. "Should we get up? Get some breakfast? She asked, trying to change the subject, trying to diffuse the tension. Perhaps it was only her experiencing the tension.

Still, Althaea was indeed hungry, and even if it wasn’t a good idea, she wanted to demonstrate for the entire band the favor and power of her Goddess. No one would expect that she would be able to stroll confidently into the great hall once more, much less that she would even be able to walk. This could perhaps put a greater target on her back, but this healing combined with the lightning strike when she took her vow left little doubt about her title as the favored child of the Gods.

As they entered the Great Hall, Althaea noticed Yrsa, the shield maiden who she had spoken to several times on the raid. The one who had offered up the coin for the burial, and the one who had been injured by arrows. After Thorkell, Yrsa was the only member of the band who she felt any kinship with. Granted, she had little in common with the athletic Viking, but she respected and admired the woman, and Yrsa in return was kind to her. The wound on her cheek had grown red and swollen, a likely indication that sickness was setting in.

Before everyone in the hall, she approached her. The shield maiden looked down on her as she stood up to the woman, mostly curious. Althaea brought her hand up to Yrsa’s face, and despite a moment of uncertainy and tension, the Yrsa did not stop her. Touching the cheek, the wound seemed to shrink and heal until it was naught but a scar. Hesitant, Yrsa touched her face where the injury had been, finding only healthy skin there. The confusion in her eyes said enough, but Althaea did not elaborate.

“Thank you again for the coin. Consider it payment for services rendered.”
 
Thorkell nodded.
"Breakfast, yes. And worry not aboutt he armour. It is hardly the first time, and not likely to be the last." He said with a nod. As they left, THorkell knew that this was going to cause something of a stir. Most of the band had seen what had been done to her, how she'd been beaten within an inch of her mind and life. To see her not only moving abobut today, but doing so without a mark on her...there was a difference between knowing that she was touched by the divine and seeing it so plainly visible. A vision was one thing. It was true or it wasn't. But divine healing...there was no telling how the jarl would react to this. Thorkell only hoped that he didn't decide to test the limits of the healing.

When Althaea laid her hand on Yrsa, when the wound faded, showing only the scar of it left...this was going to be something all together different again. There was a great deal of murmuring, more than a few people instinctively touched iron near then, the old habit to ward off dark magics. The jarl actually sat up in his throne, seeing what had happened. And he looked...curious.

That rarely bode well.

"Well then Thorkell! it seems your seer held back on what she was able to accomplish! Hand of the healer now! WHich she used on herself it seems! A fascinating change in her status I think." The jarl announced from his throne, not standing, but clearly staring at the pair, a disquieting smile on his face.
 
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