CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING
THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:
~ REFERENCE TO ABUSE, ASSAULT
~ REFERENCE TO SEXUAL ASSAULT/RAPE
~ DEATH AND/OR MURDER
The oldest looking of the three spoke first while clinging to the red-headed girl who had suffered the most. "It all happened so fast. Papa told us to get in the house and lock the door. He told us to hide and to not open the door for anyone, not even him. We didn't know what was going on or why he sounded so scared." She sniffed and wiped away her tears. "We ran inside, locked the door and hid in the cellar. Mama covered the door with a rug, and we heard her pushing the bed over it when there was a loud crash. Then Mama was screaming and we didn't know where Papa was.
"They were in the house, taking things and breaking whatever else they didn't want. Mama was screaming, she sounded so scared. We didn't do anything, we couldn't do anything. Brynhild, Ingrid, and me, Vigdis, we tried to sneak out of the back door that led to the stable. When we opened the cellar door, there were more of them waiting for us. They grabbed us and dragged us across the yard, tied us up and threw us in that wagon over there.
"I saw Mama and Papa, but the men were beating them. We begged them to stop but they wouldn't listen! We had to watch them beat our parents, we had to watch them kill them! I didn't know where they were taking us or what they would do to us, but then we ended up here when they saw your fire. Our farm is destroyed, they took our horses, killed all of our livestock and burned down our home. There is nothing left for us there besides ashes. We...we would have died if you were not here. Oh thank the gods you were here."
She clasped one hand around Libelle's still glowing hand. She thanked Libelle repeatedly while her younger sisters clung to her sides.
Libelle sighed, "I am truly sorry for your loss...for everything you have gone through."
"Thank you, I don't know what we would have done without you," said the middle child, Ingrid.
The redhead, Brynhild, nodded in agreement with her sisters but did not speak. She was the worst of all of them, having suffered through a brutal rape by cruel men. If Libelle had been able to focus and concentrate her magic faster and earlier, the girls' wounds would not have been so grave.
"I'm sorry, lasses," Libelle said again, color returning to her cheeks as a shimmer returned to her eyes. "Come to the fire, warm yourselves and get some sleep. I cannot do much for you other than offer you safe keeping for the night, the warmth of my fire, and breakfast in the morning. At dawn, I must continue on my way, but you can take those horses and ride south west towards Edinburgh. I know the king there, tell him I sent you for safe keeping and he will welcome you into his home."
The girls stared at her with wide eyes, then towards the bandits' horses and wagon. They would be able to ride in the wagon and sell the spare horses for good coin. They would be safe in the walls of Edinburgh, and they would be able to find work and a new home.
They smiled and grasped her hands again with another round of thanks. Libelle motioned them to the fire where she pulled a heavy wool blanket from her horse's saddlebag. Both their horses still stood tied to thin branches of the trees, frightened but obedient as they accepted the gentle pat on their necks. The saddlebags had been rummaged through, so she would need to collect their supplies again before leaving in the morning.
She returned to the girls who were sitting far away from the men's corpses that littered a wide portion of the clearing. They were huddled together but gratefully accepted the blanket she offered them. Libelle grabbed a boot of one of the men and dragged the limp corpse across the ground away from the fire. She repeated this with two more of the corpses until there was enough distance between the warmth of the fire and the stench of their burned flesh.
Eskil remained sitting where he had pushed himself up from the soil, wiping blood from his lip and nose and wheezing through the pain that his sore ribs brought. He watched as Libelle cleared the small camp, removed corpses and collected their belongings. He wanted to move but all energy was sapped from his limbs.
"Drago—" He cleared his throat. "Libby."
She didn't react to his voice or the nickname he had chosen for her. Instead, she placed several logs onto the campfire, bringing the flames back to life and brightening the clearing. He called her name again, "Libelle, come here." He pointed to the spot in front of him.
She looked at him, rolled her eyes and walked up to him. Her hands were on her hips as she looked down at him. "What?"
Eskil looked back at her, a knot forming in his neck as his head started to throb even more. He winced and rubbed his temple, letting a quiet sigh pass his lips. By all the gods and the glory, he wanted to ask for her help. For her healing. But damn it all, he would not betray his own strength by asking for her aid.
He attempted to stand up, his knees bending and pushing him upwards as his torso screamed in refusal of the sudden movement and pain. He closed his eyes and exhaled, then opened them again slowly.
"Why are...there three...ofyou?"