Chapter 16 #2
She glanced down at the dead man. “It does. Horribly, in fact. All I can think of is the labyrinth and watching those people die in front of me.”
“It does not seem to bother you.”
Her pretty eyes flicked up to him, and he saw the horror in them. He saw the fear that rocked through her. But if he hadn’t been looking in her eyes, he never would have known.
“I’m very good at hiding what I’m feeling,” she said.
He watched her walk away from him, picking through the dead bodies as she reached for the first troll that listed to the side.
She gave them a body to lean against as they headed away from the carnage that he had created.
Bjorn realized he had killed them all. So many men that it was hard to count them.
But he knew his role well. His father had taught him everything, after all.
Squaring his shoulders, he got to work removing the bodies from the campsite.
One by one, he stacked them into the cages that the trolls had previously been in.
Then he hauled those cages away. He heaved his body into it, putting every ounce of effort into the movement as he could. Alone. Berserkers were always alone.
Until he looked up to see Astrid sitting on a rise. A glowing beacon for him to know that he wasn’t entirely alone. Though she did not help him, she sat in vigil as he removed all the proof of his anger and rage.
Bjorn staggered up the rise toward her. His entire body ached, and he wasn’t sure it was wise to carry her tomorrow, but he would do it. They had lost precious time, and all he wanted was to rest tonight. It did not appear that was going to happen.
“The others started making food,” she said as he got close. “They’re starving.”
“They found food here?”
“A group of them went hunting.” She remained seated where she was, her arms wrapped around her knees, and then she asked, “Are you all right?”
“I am fine.”
“I don’t think you are.” Those light eyes stared right through him, and he hated how correct she was. How shattered he felt. He wasn’t meant to be this weapon and monster who had been sharpened, honed by years of fighting others. He was not who many expected when they saw him.
And still, she sat there looking up at him as though she knew what he was feeling. So he admitted, “I do not know how I feel. It is uncomfortable to have done what I did.”
“You don’t like screams. You said that to me before.”
“When I was a child, I watched my father do exactly what I did there. He killed everyone. Not just the humans, but the trolls too. Cutting through every living being in the area near him while I was hiding under a cart. I waited there for two days until he finally calmed down. Lying in my own piss, and shit, and tears, hoping that my father would come back.” He took a deep breath, breathing out through the ache of those memories before finally admitting, “I fear I will someday become him.”
“That sounds… horrific.”
“It was.”
“And is that the only troll you’ve ever met who was like you?”
He nodded. The silence that came after only hurt even more. He had been right. She would think of him as a monster, just as he thought of his father as a monster. He should never have said anything at all.
She dusted off her knees, stood, and then reached out her hand for him. “I cannot stop you from becoming him. But I think I can help you ease an old wound, if you’ll come with me.”
He would go to the end of the world for her. She just didn’t know that yet.
Bjorn slipped his hand into hers and allowed her to tug him back to the others.
They were all huddled in groups, some recognizing each other and others who did not.
She set Bjorn down by one of the fires that was surrounded by many trolls.
He settled in, trying his best not to look at the others.
Some trolls were uncomfortable around trolls like him.
But the young man to his right reached forward to rotate the rabbit on a spit and asked, “She yours?”
He shook his head. “Bringing her to the other priestesses. Seeing if they can sever our bond. It was a mistake.”
The young man handed him water and then nodded toward his hands. “Clean up. You’ll need to eat to get there. You have many days of travel to reach that distance.”
“I know.” He washed the blood off his hands, though. Soon enough, he’d have to sniff out a stream to get the rest of the blood off him.
Then he saw Astrid again, this time tugging the little girl with her. The troll was nearly up to her shoulder already, and he knew the child had to be terrified. She was quaking the moment his eyes locked on her.
But Astrid brought her right up to Bjorn and then sat down beside him. She was still holding the child’s hand, who now stood before them, as she said, “Did you have something you wanted to ask him?”
He looked at the girl, not moving a muscle. He didn’t want to frighten her any more than she already was. She was a cute little thing, with a fine dusting of feathers on either side of her nose and through her hair. Very little elven blood, then. But still beautiful nonetheless.
“Did it hurt?” the little girl asked.
“Did what hurt?”
She nodded toward his hands.
Now he could see all the wounds covering his hands. Slices in his palms where he must have caught blades and knives. His claws were cracked even worse. Bruises already mottled his skin.
Sighing, he shook his head and held them out for her inspection. “I hardly feel it. I’ve fought my whole life, little one. These are just scratches.”
“You saved us,” she said, and his heart stopped in his chest.
“I’m sorry I scared you while doing so.”
The little girl looked him over intently, her gaze marking every single one of the cuts before she nodded. “My mum is a healer. I can have her look at you.”
And just like that, he was home again. Surrounded by trolls who would do anything to help their own. All because one priestess had brought a child over to him.
The child in him, the one who had been so alone for such a long time, settled down beside him. He swore he could almost see the boy he used to be, sitting on the wooden log with him. But now, that child wasn’t quite so afraid.