Tears of Amber

Chapter 1 Valkyrie Comes

Northumbria 1608

Like cowards, they attacked just before dawn.  They used darkness as a shield and found most of the household asleep.  It was all too easy to cut down unarmed peasants as they slumbered.  The clang of metal against metal was Dylla’s call to rise on that wicked morning.  She threw on nothing more than a rough wool day dress,  grabbed her small sword, and made her way towards the fray. 

               A gruesome sight filled her eyes when she reached the entrance to the great hall.  Her father was in the midst of a fierce battle with a brutish hulk of a man.  Fear bubbled inside of her as she watched the other invaders cut down anyone in their path.  Shock and pain hypnotized her as she watched her world crumble. 

               A piercing sound startled her from her stupor.  A poor kitchen maid of barely fifteen screamed from a corner where she was being brutally r***d.  Anger and hatred flooded every fiber of her being as she raised her head and prepared for battle.

               She drew her sword out of its sheath and quietly crossed the hall to help the kitchen maid.  While the r****t rutted upon his helpless victim, his comrades left him unprotected to enjoy their own spoils of war.  While they remained occupied, she moved to defend the helpless girl.  Her sanity slipped as she plunged the blade into the brute before her.  The thick cords of muscle in his back gave way under the sharp tip of her sword.  She thrust her blade with all her might until it pierced his heart.  It only took seconds for his lifeless frame to slump against the maid he violated.  The young girl shoved him hard and scrambled to get out from under him.  Tattered and bloodied  the maid crawled to Dylla’s feet and clutched at her skirt.  She stuttered through her tears.

               “Thank you mistress, Dylla.”

               “Not now.  Get away from here as fast as you can.  Warn anyone you see and take to the woods.”

               The girl fled in her torn clothes as fast as her feet would take her.  Dylla watched as the crude men dipped their whole heads into a barrel of her father’s mead.  There were three of them.  Even with the element of surprise  she couldn’t take on all of them alone.  She glanced at her father to see how he faired, and instantly regretted it. 

               An old man of sixty-three winters, Dylla’s father buckled under the tremendous blows of the invader’s sword.  Long had she told her father that he needed to shore up their perimeter defenses, and now he lay dead in a pool of his own blood, a sad testament to the truth of her words.  Who was the huge raven-haired man that had come to destroy her home?  She scanned the man’s features and committed them to memory before she acted.  Once again she raised her sword, ready to cut down the man who killed her father. 

Air swelled in her lungs in preparation for a battle cry, but before she could utter a sound the hard chest of a man slammed into her back.

Steel arms closed around her and she could do nothing but watch as her father’s body was cast aside with careless disdain.  Tears stung her eyes as his lifeless frame littered the ground a few feet from her.  For a moment she didn’t even fight the brute that imprisoned her.  Sadness invaded her entire being.  Rage woke her up.  The battle cry of her forefathers burst from her lips as a cruel hand found her breast.  She suffered the loss of her father, but by Odin, she would not suffer the loss of her maidenhead to the foul creatures bent upon destroying everything she loved.

Instinct took over.  Her teeth found her capture’s arm.  She bit down until she tasted his warm blood on her lips.  The painful wound caused him to loosen his grip just enough for her to slip free.  She raised the sword she still held in her hand and cleaved him in the shoulder.  To his knees he fell.  Already today one man had suffered death at her hands.  Here slouched another ready to fall under her sword.  She straightened her shoulders and plunged her blade into his chest.  Like a fish out of water he gulped for air.  The weight of justice collapsed his lungs and she watched as he slipped into oblivion.  Hatred and sorrow fueled her now. 

She glanced at the man who had killed her father, and felt a small measure of pride knowing he had witnessed her kill one of his men.  She raised her bloody sword and pointed it in his direction.  The silent gesture started the raven-haired demon towards her.     

               Dylla turned and fled the great hall as fast as she could.  As she made her way out the door she heard an angry bellow from the black soul that chased her.

               “Get her fools.  The daughter flees.  It’s her we’re after.”

               Angry invaders called back to their leader.

“Aye, Lord Raum, we’ll get her.” 

               So the vile beast that killed her father had a name.  Raum.  She committed the name to memory as she fled for her life.  If it were the last thing she did she would have her revenge against Raum.  Only because they had consumed so much mead was she able to evade Raum’s men.   

               She burst out of the hall into the open yard.  More gruesome sights confronted her as she spun around in horror.  Everywhere she looked someone she loved lay dead.  Fire pierced the dawn with its eerie glow and illuminated the atrocities committed against her home.  Life as she knew it was over.

               Fear and anger forced her to move.  She ran as fast as she could towards the stables.  The building was already burning so the enemy hadn’t left anyone to guard it.  She rushed inside before it was consumed with flames.  Her beloved horse, Mist, thrashed wildly in his stall.  She ran to him opening every stall she passed.  Why would these barbarians kill useful animals.

               When she reached Mist she flung open the stall door and ran to his side.  The roof of the stables started to give way, hastily she climbed onto his back and grabbed hold of his mane.  With a gentle kick of her heals, Mist burst from his stall and ran through the stable doors.  The cries of protest from the invaders only fueled her will to escape.  She headed straight into the woods and hoped the trees would hide her while she made her getaway.

               Deeper and deeper she made her way into the woods.  As her steed carried her into the trees the agonizing screams she left behind gave way to the silence of the forest.  Would she ever see her home again?

               Fear pushed her to ride until the sun was high in the morning sky.  When the warming light finally broke through the trees she slowed her horse to a walk.  As far as she could tell no one had followed her.  After several hours of riding she knew it was time to give her horse a break.  She found a small stream and climbed down from Mist’s back so that he could drink and rest.  She left her horse to drink at the stream as she sat on a moss-covered log.  She didn’t dare try and light a fire because someone could still be out searching for her.  Her rough dress didn’t provide much warmth against the chill of the autumn air around her.

               She squeezed her arms tightly about her chest and closed her eyes.  Was it just yesterday that she was the daughter of a Lord?  Tears built in her eyes as the vision of her fallen father washed in her memory.  Her mother was long dead and she had no brothers or sisters.  The only family she had lived in a distant land, and she had nothing but a horse to get her there.  Desperation threatened to choke her as she thought of the invaders that would probably sleep in her warm bed tonight.

               She wondered who they were.  Vikings by the look of them.  No doubt the heartless raiders who cared nothing for people, only riches.  The warm moisture from her eyes ran down her cheeks and marked the sorrow her soul felt.

               She reached up to wipe away a tear when she heard Mist whinny.  Her eyes opened and sought her horse.  A giant man dressed in the same manner as the men that plundered her home threw a rope around her horse’s neck.

               Not again.  She would rather die than be taken.  Her hand grasped the sword lying at her side as she ran towards the man.  He saw her movement and prepared himself for battle.  Before she got any further another man knocked her down from behind.  Her sword fell into the leaves on the forest floor.  Her attacker knocked it out of her reach.  She hurried to put distance between herself and the two men.

               Helpless and outnumbered her demise seemed certain.  Slowly they closed in on her.  She stood her ground.  It wasn’t in her to give up and let them have their way.  She was raised to protect herself, and that’s what she intended to do.

               Slowly they inched towards her.  She looked about frantically for an escape.  The larger of the two men must have sensed she was about to run because he lunged for her.  He was fast despite his great size, but she managed to step to the side and all he caught was a piece of her dress.  She flung herself on the ground, her fingertips touched her sword.  All was not lost.

               She grasped the handle just as the man yanked her towards him.  Violently she turned over and slashed down with her sword.  He moved his arm quickly, but not before she could punish him with a deep cut.  She tried to scramble to her feet but the second man was on top of her before she could rise.

               She brought the sword above her head to strike him but he managed to pin both of her arms.  She bucked wildly underneath him, and tried to strike him with her legs.  He brutally squeezed her hands until she dropped the sword.  As soon as she felt the sword slip from her hands she reached up and bit the man on his face.  He howled in pain and sat up for a split second.  Frantic for freedom she scooted backwards and wiggled out from under him.

               She jumped to her feet and started to run.  His quick footsteps crunched against the cold forest floor.  Her heart beat faster as she looked back and saw that he was only a few feet away.  As she turned forward again to look for the best possible escape, she ran straight into a tree.

               The force of the hard wood knocked her to the ground.  As she fell to the forest floor her head hit the edge of a jagged rock.  Blinding pain shot through her and everything around her blurred.  

               Sunlight streamed through the branches above her when she saw the vision.  A Valkyrie angel loomed over her and filled her eyes with a wondrous sight.  She smiled as the blackness of the pain consumed her.  Odin was on her side.  She had fought bravely enough to gain entry to his great hall.  The warrior god sent an angel to bear her to the afterlife.  She shut her eyes and waited knowing that soon she would be with her father in Valhalla.