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Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Captured!

The Viking Slave

(This book is in the process of being re-written.. I will be changing quite a bit in it. I will publish the new chapters all at once so there won't be any gaps in the story. Thanks for reading.)

Check out my new story: The Warrior Princess

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845 Hamburg, Germany

Fifteen year old, Astrid Egger arose from the hard ground upon where she sat tending the small garden just outside of her small, stone cottage. A nippy changing spring wind blew lightly through the air, sending a chill down her spine. The sky had a grayish-blue tint with long, stringy white clouds hovering in the sky, covering the sun's bright rays. The rolling rich green hills housed many little cottages, just like the one where she presided, that led down to the Elbe river. The river was a clear, cool blue which ran at a smooth pace. Fishermen and marketers were the ones that dwelled beside it. Unless for business purposes, none of the farming families associated with the riverside markets, they lived from the land to meet their needs. In the middle ground between the sloping hills and the river sat a long, wooden building which was the church, where the priests lived.

The Egger's home was a very simple design. It was in the shape of a square, with a heavy straw roof packed with sod, laying at angles so the water would run off when it rained, which was quite frequently. To the side of the home was a medium sized animal pen that was divided in several different sections for the variety of animals, such as cows, sheep and chickens, that was tended. The inside was much the same-plain. The fire pit sat in the middle of the dirt floor, one room house that sheltered Astrid, her mother-Beatriz, and younger sister-Aida. Off to the right side of the area sat a heavy, square wooden table with four old wooden chairs on each of the four sides. Then to the left side of the room was sheepskin covers laying atop of a straw pallet, in which they slept upon together.

Astrid strolled over to the pen where the cows were held and pulled up her milking stool, plopping down forcefully onto the rough, round seat. She patted the old red-haired cow, assuring it she meant no harm, and began milking.

"Astrid!" Beatriz yelled from the doorway of the house.

Astrid let out a sigh before standing from the stool, stretching her cramped legs.

"Yes mother?" she called back, gathering her bucket that was only half filled with the fresh milk.

As she rounded the corner she saw her mother standing with her arms crossed, Aida hid behind her mothers light brown, beat up dress.

"What is wrong mother?" Astrid asked again, opening her eyes wide with a slight shake to her head.

Yet again there was no reply, Beatriz stood perfectly still watching Astrid closely. Aida ran from behind her skirt to where Astrid stood, hugging her legs tightly.

"Mam says you are going to teach me how to fight with a sword!" the seven-year-old Aida said excitedly.

Astrid patted the small, brown haired child on the back of the head as she looked annoyed back at her mother.

"Did she?" Astrid spoke puzzled. "Why do you need to know how to sword fight, Aida? Fighting is not for girls of any age, really, especially seven year olds."

"Aida," Beatriz called. "How about you return to your needlework inside while I talk to your sister."

Aida released her grasp from around Astrid's leg. Astrid turned from her mother to hide her face of anger mixed with annoyance.

"Mother what are you thinking! Father taught me to fight so if he was not here someone could watch over the farm." Astrid argued, turning to face Beatriz. "God took father from us and now I am obligated to protect this farm if need be, but to free-willingly fight and teach my sister the bloodthirsty trade, I am sorry mother but I refuse."

Astrid's brown eyes melted once she spied a tear roll down her mother's cheek.

"I do not know what come over my mind, child. I was only trying to give Aida a sense of security for this harsh world like your father gave you when you was about her age."

"You are trying to teach her the same thing that made father lose his life. Mother in this world it does not matter how hard you fight or what you know about it, the world overcomes you whether you want it to or not. It will consume you like a fire." Astrid said, embracing her mother. "I have work that needs to be finished."

Beatriz pulled back from her daughter. "I need you to take some supplies to the widow woman, Schwarz, on the hillside. Help her if she needs it and talk to her if she is lonely." She turned inside the house. "Just let me gather them up. Get some of that kale out there Astrid."

As Beatriz began gathering herbs, wool, food, and milk into a basket , Astrid started digging in the garden once again, this time she pulled the crisp green plant and placed it into the apron that protected her old gray woolen dress.

Beatriz arrived once again beside Astrid, leaving the large, round wicker basket sitting beside her. Astrid placed the greens lightly into the basket along with the rest of the goods.

"I promise I will return before evening." Astrid assured Beatriz.

Beatriz smiled at Astrid as she stroked her long dark brown hair that fell into a thick, loose braid down her back. "Your father would be so proud of the young lady you are becoming." she said, pushing a strand of hair away from Astrid's forehead, before returning inside the house.

Astrid took a knotted walking stick that sat propped up against the side of the cottage and began walking down the dusty dirt path with the basket hanging around her forearm. She found herself looking back down at her farm, that kept growing smaller and smaller as her elevation kept rising, with an uneasy feeling about leaving her mother and sister below. After a while of hiking, their cottage was no longer visible. Off in the distance, Astrid saw a ramshackled wooden house that was leaning slightly to the right atop of the rich green hill. As she moved closer to the small rustic home, the more she noticed that is was falling down slowly.

Astrid stood silently as she looked around at the little homestead, taking in all of the rugged surroundings which befell around her. A gray stone well was off to the side, the wooden top broke off laying beside it along with the bucket, which had no bottom. The traces of a pen was all that was left of a farm. The house itself was only standing becasue the strong wooden base was well built, the roof was caving in, the middle while the triangle doorway was falling down also with holes big enough for a fist to fit through.

"Who's there?" A croaky voice called from behind the house.

Astrid took a few steps closer to the voice. "My name is Astrid Egger. My mother Beatriz has sent me here to bring you some..." She looked down at the basket on her arm. "Goods." She replied, making her way around the house only to find a middle aged woman, hunkered beside a rosebush.

"So you are the daughter of Beatriz." The lady said, standing and straightening up herself. "My name is Jezebel Schwarz."

Jezebel walked in front of Astrid, who handed the worn handle over to the lady.

"Your mother is a very nice lady." Jezebel stated, heading towards the door. "She visits me every now and then. Will you come in?"

Astrid nodded, following behind the tall, slender lady.

"How long have you been up here alone?" Astrid asked, taking a seat on the large wooden stump beside the open fire.

Jezebel glanced over at Astrid, shrugging her shoulders. "It's been several years now. You must have been only a small child when my husband was killed."

"I noticed you have roses in the back but nothing else. Don't you worry about fixing your farm up?" Astrid questioned, standing from the place she sat and walked to the table, helping Jezebel unload the basket.

"Roses can cause scars by the thorns they have, but once you get beyond the thorns the beauty is there. They only show you are stronger than what is trying to scar you." Jezebel stated, patting Astrid on the back. "When you are like me and have nothing more than the roses, you cherish them."

Astrid watched as she stepped over to the fire and began stoking it. It was the first time Astrid had met this lady and now she realized that a friend is all she needs. Astrid made her way back to the fire and sat down once more, talking with Jezebel.

As hours had passed, the uneasy feeling about leaving her home returned to Astrid, this time it was larger. She hurriedly rushed to the door, flapping it open widely. She stretched her neck out to see if she could view her home, nothing could be seen from the Widow's house.

"What is it dear!?" Jezebel questioned, running to her side.

Astrid shook her head. "I do not know. I have an uneasy feeling that someone is down there." Astrid watched alarmed a few minuted before turning back towards the door. "I guess it's all in my mind."

As they took a step back inside, Astrid heard a scream off in the distance. She took off in a run back to where she was standing before, stretching tall as she could this time she caught a glimpse of large ships carved like dragons coming in on the Elbe.

"Mercy." Astrid mumbled under her breath as she continued watching the rest of the large ships come in.

More screams echoed in the still air. Astrid shook her head.

Astrid shook her head, staring at the sight attempting to think straight. "Go back inside and stay there." She calmly instructed Jezebel as she pulled the bottom of her long dress up and began to run down the hillside.

As she progressively got closer, she saw large men pillaging and burning the cottages along the shore and hillsides. Astrid stopped cold in her tracks once the sight of villagers running frantically and screaming. The only thing that filled Astrid's mind was her mother and sister. She began running through the disheveled mess in search for her family.

Beside her home she saw where someone had been which led her to worry even more. Astrid rushed inside and found the small house ransacked and Beatriz laying on the pallet holding Aida tightly, both covered in blood. She gasped for her breath as she scooted herself beside the bodies in disbelief.

"Mother." Astrid whispered, dropping to her knees.

Beatriz opened her eyes and raised her bloody right hand, placing it upon Astrid's face. Astrid wrapped her hand atop of her mothers as tears began coming from her eyes.

"Do not cry Astrid. You must be strong and stay strong. Never give up or lose hope on anything, no matter what comes your way. Never stop fighting for what you believe in..." Beatriz's raspy voice faded while her breathing grew slower.

Astrid looked over at Aida who laid so peacefully it was as if she was only sleeping.

"You can not die mother. I need you." Astrid cried, tears flowing from her eyes fast. "I am sorry I was not here for you and Aida. I failed you."

"I love you. Aida loved you." Beatriz smiled up at Astrid and wiped the tears from her eyes. "You never failed us, God just said it was our time..." her voice trailed away, as her hand slowly fell from Astrid's face back down to beside her still body.

Astrid felt the world stop spinning. A numbness overcame her as she grasped her mother's hand and laid her head down onto Beatriz's stomach.

"I will always love you." Astrid kissed her mother and sister one last time before she reached under the pallet and drew out her father's old sword. In a whirlwind of disbelief and anger, she left the house gripping the sword tightly in her trembling hands.

On the outside, the world was sill frantic as the Northmen were pillaging the, once peaceful, village. She fell into the crowd as they hurried from the aliens but stopped, looking around at the world that was burning around her.

A large, burly man approached her, watching her intently. Astrid met his cold, evil eyes with her dark brown eyes, made of stone. The man rose his sword, startling Astrid. He charged at her with a forceful speed, clashing with the sound of iron. He spun around trying to dismount the weapon from her hand but she remained clasping it tightly. Somehow in the midst of swordplay, Astrid managed to sling the mans iron from his hand and pushed the sharp tip of her sword into his chest. She stood deathly still as she watched the rouge man fall to his knees, blood pouring out onto length of the sword. Finally, blood came from his mouth as he toppled over dead. Astrid pulled the blood covered sword from his stiff body and stared at the motionless man on the ground beside her. Shock shook Astrid's body while she dwelled on the fact she had just killed a man for the first time.

Astrid was soon surrounded by several intimidating men holding shields, battle axes, swords wearing dark tunics covered in chain mail. Her eyes wondered onto the blood covered strangers, studying each of them carefully. They were not like anything she had seen before. The sword remained in her tight grasp.

"Tie her up! She will sell good at the square!" the leader of the group shouted, speaking a foreign language, then he walked away from the scene.

All of the men followed him except for a long, dark haired, younger man.

Astrid raised the sword up, prepping herself to fight once again. The man rested his hand on the handle of his sword, staring at her sympathetically with soft blue eyes. Astrid's stiff gaze never left his eyes as he approached her slowly, with his hands reached in front of him. In a swift motion, he took Astrid by the wrists, disarming her quickly.

"I am sorry but I have to do this, girl." He spoke in Norse, tying her small wrists with a heavy piece of rope. He led her away from where they stood to the shore where the longships were docked.

At the riverside, the man sat down to wait on his other companions. Astrid watched him carefully as he pulled an apple from his leather satchel and began to peel it.

"My name is Astrid." She mumbled in Norse.

The man looked up at Astrid puzzled by her response.

"Well Astrid, I am Knute." He replied, rising from the ground. "You speak our language?" He asked, offering her a piece of his apple.

"There was a priest who was a close friend to me. He had traveled to many different places and learned many customs and languages. After my father died I spent many days at the chapel and he would teach me new things everyday. I learned your language from him. " Astrid said, taking a bite from the crisp fruit. "Where are you taking me?" she questioned, meeting Knute's kind expression.

"You will be going to a village called Oliefsborg. Earl Erick will decide from there." Knute informed, averting his eyes to another group of captured people coming toward them. "I see they have taken more." He led Astrid to the line of scared villagers. "You will remain with them until we get back to our home."

Knute began helping the other men load the loot that was taken from Hamburg. Astrid sat still with her hands bound together tightly, studying all of the other captured people. She noticed the disheveled looks on their faces, pain was written in each persons grief stricken eyes. At the end of the rope was Jezebel, distraught and crying. Astrid quickly turned her focus from the people to her grubby, beat up hands that were covered with dirt and blood. Her eyes left her hands and she was now staring off into the distance while the world inside her mind was spinning wildly with thoughts.

The Northmen finished loading their boats and returned to the shore for the captives.

"Rise Slaves!" a large, red haired man yelled, pulling the rope which held all of the captured together.

Astrid felt her heart pound faster as she was the first that stepped upon the huge, snake carved ship which was filled with the precious goods they stole. Knute and the red haired man sat the slaves in a circle which allowed Jezebel and Astrid to be seated together.

Controlling the oars were ten to fifteen Viking men, rowing back up the river from where they came. Astrid watched as she moved farther and farther away from her burning, destroyed homeland. She felt her heart tearing from the inside with each inch that was moved, but she managed to hide the tears that came to her eyes.

It dawned on Astrid that her freedom was now stripped away from her along with everything she loved. She was enslaved into a new world--a world she could never imagine.

•Thanks for reading! Please vote and comment, if you will. I hope you have enjoyed this chapter.•

Feel free to critique any of my writing. This is a rough copy. Constructive criticism is always helpful (But there is a difference in helping and just being completely rude. Please don't be rude. I am a person, too. 😊). It will let me know what I can do better. Thanks once again and enjoy!

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