Eris' Handmaiden Page 10

Darkness.
Gasping, choking, shivering, Sinaedh struggled.
Tangled.
Frantic, she pulled against what bound her.
"No!" she screamed into the darkness. "NO!"
"Stodva." A pressure on her shoulder. Sinaedh's eyes snapped open, but she saw only darkness. She opened her mouth to cry out again. "Draumr," the voice said more firmly. "S... stop. Yus safe now. Dat dream."
Trembling, she nodded. The voice wasn't one she recognized. "Who?" she said hoarsely.
"Dat angrar mik at ek viet eigi hverr hann er," the voice mumbled. She could almost hear him shake his head, but didn't know he was looking at the shade that hung over her form. "I Sarry. Elder. Yus wait."
Sinaedh nodded slowly. As if the words had been an omen, she heard footsteps. Frowning slightly, she tried to make out anything that would help her, but thought only seemed to bring pain thudding strongly behind her eyes. She looked toward the voices, but only darkness was there. One of the voices was different from the others, but she could make out few of the words spoken.
Without warning, she felt the bindings on wrists and ankles lessen, then a hand gripped her wrist, urging her up. Right hand reaching to feel what might be around her, she sat up awkwardly, feet easily reaching the floor from the bench. Another tug came as words spilled around her. Up... good... there were few she could pick out to help her. She rose, swaying, head throbbing again.
Strong hands pulled her arms behind her and bound her wrists. Work... day... A few more words made it through her muddled senses. She had no time to wonder. A strong hand on her arm guided her, walking her outside. She took a deep breath. The air was chill and moist. She must still be near the sea.
She heard few sounds as she was guided down steps and over rough ground. The simple woolen clothes that seemed to have been given her kept much of the chill away, but she found herself shivering uncontrollably. Scents of salt tang, of porridge cooking, wood fires and stale ale tested her nostrils as she walked through the blackness. Then the musty smell of used straw, manure and the strong scent of horses gave her pause. She stumbled for a moment, steadied by the hand on her arm, then urged on again.
The voices came again, speaking to one deeper and taller. Sinaedh tilted her head, trying in vain to see who or what was around her. A gruff voice spoke, then larger hands took her by the waist, lifting her bodily to settle her atop a horse. Gasping, Sinaedh worked to keep her balance. Small, strong hands behind her came forward, one arm sliding around her waist.
A cry, an answer.... and a command, then the horse moved. It was all she could do to stay upright. She worked to relax her muscles, allowing them to become used to the motion of the horse, though she couldn't see where it traveled. "Dear God," she whispered into the wind of their passage. "Dear God, help me."
Slowly, Sinaedh grew used to the motion of the horse. It seemed to be a smaller beast than she was used to, but the gait was smooth. The rider behind her guided her with a strong arm when she swayed, but no words. Ahead she heard another horse, and occasional words being exchanged.
They rode at a steady clip through the early morning. The fog caressed her face, cooling with beads of dew. The woolen tunic she wore grew damp on the outside, but the strong weave kept her warm. Bird calls occasionally cut the sound of their travel, the songs brightening the despair that was growing in Sinaedh's mind to match the dark of her blindness.
Where are they taking me? she wondered. As if to give a clue, the horses slowed, and she heard echos, as if they had entered a village street. Soon, the horses were stopped, and the rider behind her slid to the ground. "Down," said a voice that was high like a child's, and a hand reached to her elbow, guiding. Awkwardly, Sinaedh slipped down from the horse's back.
Once again the strong hand gripped her arm, leading her to stumble up stone steps. An unusual low hum and the scent of ozone in the salty air warned her before the voice spoke again. "We walk through magic. Yus not stop."
Nodding her understanding, Sinaedh allowed herself to be guided again. The strong grip remained through the fleeting dizziness that she knew from portal magic at home, steadying her as she stumbled on the stone flooring where they arrived. Blankly, Sinaedh looked around, but still, no hint of vision came to her.
"Mes not know Aegirhamn," Knutha said, looking around. "Wes get horses to Knarr from here?" Sinaedh looked blindly in the direction of the high voice, trying to understand the words.
"Ja," the one holding Sinaedh said. She began to picture her captors as male and female, the male holding her arm short, probably only coming up to her shoulder. "Come dis way," he said, and guided Sinaedh down stone steps to packed earth ground.
Here, the air still smelled of salt and fish, but the day was warmer, the sun drying the dew from the tunic she wore. She heard a deep drone as if many bees worked in fields of flowers, but could smell no sweet scent of nectar. A shift in the breeze brought the calls of tradesmen and the bustle of a large town to her ears. As they walked, she smelled the distinctive scents of dried fish, tanned leather, and a forge. Soon enough, the tang of manure came to her again, and the male and female she'd identified spoke with another, much taller and with a gravelly voice.
As the trio bargained for the use of animals, Sinaedh squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them. There was no change in her vision. She could feel the sun warm on the side of her face, but no hint of its light came to her, through open or shut lids. Lord, she prayed silently, let me at least see what's become of me. Guide me, I pray. Forgive me, I beg.
Without warning, Sinaedh felt her waist encircled by strong, strangely solid hands. She was lifted off the ground and placed again on horseback. One of her captors again climbed up behind her, taking the reins of the beast. Another animal apparently carried the female captor, for Sinaedh heard her voice again, and the clink of coins exchanged. Then the horses were turned, and once again, she worked to maintain her balance in the blind ride.
The droning buzz grew louder as they rode. Occasionally the cry of a strange bird or growl of an animal sounded, but the well-trained horses didn't miss a stride as they carried their passengers. Sinaedh's nose picked up the scent of grass baking in the sun, then the unmistakable aroma of pine trees. Patches of shade were felt, not seen, and she shivered, glad when the path the animals took emerged again into bright light that warmed her. The path climbed, and the horses hooves clacked against rocky ground, but the strong animals didn't slow their pace. Soon she smelled salt air again, this time mixed with a more sulfurous scent. Tar, she decided, listening as well, and hearing the beat of hammer against wood. A shipwright must be near.
Soon the horses slowed again, and once again her guide slid to the ground, reaching to help her down. Sinaedh's knees buckled briefly, and two sets of hands reached to her. "Gersimi," she heard another say. "Gaetti."
"Dat er ekki ljufr fraenka, heldr er dat ovaettr," growled the male voice.
"Nei!" cried the other. "Yus don know!" Korbel glared at Darrius.
"Enough!" Knutha admonished. "Come. We find dis Livilla."
Sineadh stood looking blankly from one to the other. She'd caught the feeling, but not most of the meaning of the words that had been exchanged. At least one of her captors wanted her dead, it seemed. Then before she could worry, the strong hand gripped her arm again, leading her over the packed earth.
Blindly, Sinaedh followed.
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