Hilda

Nordenland – Castle of Nordenvania

"That bastard," Vilfred hissed as he read King Serenus's respond. "Now that he had all his gold in advance, and his coward mercenaries back, he blatantly says he owes us nothing!"

"You forgot to mention he has your brother too," Hilda added carelessly, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Vilfred turned to her with a dark scowl, while she only continued to play with the emerald ring on her finger, completely uninterested in this useless council meeting.

"Well... if King Serenus does not wish to... cooperate... then perhaps we should... set back to closing our borders," Sir Sigurd suggested in his usual unsure voice.

"And then what, Sir Sigurd?" Vilfred asked impatiently. "Find the Kassarathi at our Northern coasts with a hundred ships again like they did four years ago?"

Having enough of this nonsense, Hilda sighed irritably and rose off her seat.

"Where are you going?" Vilfred asked. "We are not done yet."

"Well I am," she retorted, before she turned and left the council room.

She was angry, and frustrated. Well, this had been partly her fault anyway. It was her idea to hire Eastern mercenaries in the first place. But yet as she thought about it, they did not really have another option. The Northern forces alone would have never stood a chance before King William's army. And indeed, her plan had worked at first, when the Kassarathi helped them gain a great victory the first time and retrieve Grytia. But the second time... it was a complete disaster.

She hadn't expected the mercenaries to flee the battle once they found themselves endangered. And it was too late then when she started to realize that hiring mercenaries was not the best idea after all. Of course. The mercenaries had no obligation to remain loyal. Especially when they had received all their gold beforehand. 

And now she wondered if Mikal had been right all along. He was strongly against the idea of hiring the Eastern mercenaries, but of course Hilda had not listened to him, if just for the sake of opposing him. But what other option did they have? Except for his ridiculous idea to recruit humans in their forces. And yet, what if that ridiculous idea could have worked better? What if the humans had proved more loyal and efficient than the mercenaries?

Hilda scowled as she flew up to the Northern quarters where her parents and the remaining members of her household stayed. The last thing she should be thinking about now was Mikal and his ideas. The traitor who betrayed them and caused her to lose her home. The mere thought of him sent her blood boiling, and she resented Vilfred for not killing him.

Hilda walked hesitantly into her father's chamber, holding back her tears. Having lost their castle once more, Lord Frederik was struck with grief, and he had not left his bed ever since they fled from Grytia.

"Father," she whispered gently as she sat by his side and held his hand, while her mother sniffled, standing at the other side of the bed. Frederik only looked at Hilda in silence, his gentle eyes filled with pain. She could not stand seeing him like this, so hopeless and defeated. And she cursed Mikal for the hundredth time. But moreover, she cursed her own self, for not killing Mikal when her coward of a husband couldn't do the job himself.

"Don't worry father," she smiled despite the tears welling up in her eyes. "I will find a way, and I promise you, we will take Grytia back. You can count on me father, like you always had." A little spark of hope shone within the old man's eyes, and Hilda's heart swelled with emotion. She raised his cold wrinkled hand and brought it to her lips, sealing it with a tender kiss. "I promise you father."

***

It was late in the evening as she sat alone in her room, the candle light reflecting off the citrine stone on the ring she held between her fingers. Her old engagement ring from Mikal. The stone was the exact color of his eyes. Eyes he no longer possessed now. She winced and shuddered as she recalled how brutally Vilfred cut his face, scarring and blinding him for life. It was evil, and cruel. And she had even grown to feel uneasy around Vilfred sometimes, having witnessed what he did to his brother. To both of his brothers actually. 

The door turned open and Hilda quickly hid the ring beneath her pillow, just in time before Vilfred entered the room. She sat straight and turned her face away sulkily while he approached her. She heard him sigh before he sat by her side on the bed and gently took her hand.

"Will you keep hating me forever?" he asked in a soft yet wounded voice.

"You should have killed him!" she turned to him with a deep scowl, shaking with frustration.

"But he is dead!" Vilfred assured her. "It's been a few moons already and there is no way he could have survived the winter, all alone in the middle of the woods, and with his lack of vision."

"Then you should have just killed him!" Hilda repeated. "What was the point of torturing him and sending him to a slow death?"

"Do you feel sorry for him?" Vilfred asked, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Of course not!" Hilda snapped at once, before she turned her face away, her heart hammering. Of course she didn't feel sorry for Mikal. She only wanted a solid proof that he was dead.

She did not feel sorry. She kept reminding herself. But images of a pleading citrine eye flashed within her mind, and she clenched her fists. She couldn't block out his pathetic form as he knelt before her in the cell, shaking beneath her glare. His once handsome face half concealed behind a tattered black mask. His once long glorious hair a matted mess of tangles that barely reached his shoulders. And his once confident voice breaking as he begged her to believe that he was not a traitor. And for a fleeting moment, she wondered if Mikal had been telling the truth. What if he was indeed not a traitor? What if he had indeed been tricked?

Hilda scowled and groaned, suddenly snapping out of her ridiculous thoughts. That treacherous bastard. That was exactly what he did. Playing the victim. Manipulating. Making people fall for his lies and doubt themselves. He was not innocent. There was no way he could have been innocent.

Hilda found Vilfred wrapping his arms around her and hushing her gently, and she realized that she was shaking. No longer able to hold herself, with all her frustration at losing Grytia, her father's illness, the uncertainty of Mikal's death, she fell into Vilfred's arms and surrendered to her tears.

"Trust me Hilda, he is dead," Vilfred assured her, while she only continued to cry in his arms.

The days had grown much warmer as spring reached its height, but the nights were still cold. Hilda snuggled closer to Vilfred while he still had his arms around her, and she could feel little kisses trailing from her forehead down to her cheeks. She barely turned her face up towards Vilfred, where she found his lips taking hers in a long yet gentle kiss. And all her earlier anger instantly disappeared. She closed her own arms around him in return and deepened the kiss, and next, he pressed her down unto the bed, his strong yet loving arms pinning her in place as their kiss grew more urgent.

Sudden hammering knocks startled them both, and Vilfred quickly rose off Hilda as the door swung open. Sir Sigurd stood in the doorway, a horrified look on his face.

"Terrible news... My Lord!" he said, not even apologizing for breaking into the room that way, and Hilda couldn't help but feel alarmed.

"What is it?" Vilfred snapped.

"The... The Kassarathi... They... They are..." the old man shivered, his face pale as snow. "Th... They..."

"What?" Vilfred snapped impatiently as the old man failed to speak. But Brad appeared at the door the next moment, putting an end to Sigurd's dilemma.

"My Lord," Brad said in a much steadier voice despite the deeply troubled look on his face, "we are under attack."

Hilda's heart sank to her feet, while Vilfred froze in his place for a moment.

"Who? The Kassarathi?" Vilfred asked, still in shock, and Brad only nodded. "How did this happen?" How have they marched all the way from the Northern coast without us knowing?"

"I don't know my Lord," Brad said. "There was even no news of any attacks anywhere else in Nordenland."

Sudden shouts and cries outside reached them through the windows, and they finally realized the gravity of their situation.

"We need to get out of here," Vilfred said as he quickly grabbed Hilda's hand and pulled her along, heading towards the door.

Hilda hurried along with Vilfred and his men through the Southern quarters, her frozen mind struggling to process what was happening. And she suddenly stopped, snatching her hand away from her husband.

"My parents!" she cried, but before she could turn around, Vilfred had grabbed her hand again, stopping her.

"Are you mad? You will get yourself killed!" he shouted, and they could already hear the growing clamor in the great hall below. Vilfred was right. She would get herself killed. But she would rather get killed than leave her old parents under the mercy of the Eastern demons.

"Let go off me!" she hissed, snatching her hand away from Vilfred once more, before she turned around and flew towards the great hall.

"Hilda! Come back here!"

She could hear Vilfred calling her. But it was too late.

Chaos broke as the black eastern demons swarmed through windows and doors, filling the corridors and chambers, their axes and clubs crushing both winged and wingless alike. The ringing of clashing steel echoed within the castle, along with war cries and dying screams. The few Northern knights and warriors of Nordenvania formed a useless defense, falling easily beneath the Kassarathi brutal force.

Hilda raised her sword as she hurried through the corridors, cutting every eastern demon appearing in her way. She must get her parents out of here. Just as she managed to fly over the great hall and reach the northern quarters, a large Kassarathi warrior suddenly blocked her way, and she gasped before his massive form.

She dodged just in time before his spiked club could smash her skull, and she leapt behind him, barely scratching his wings with her sword. He turned around and aimed another fatal blow towards her chest. She dived and missed his strike, sending a slash across his leg in the action. He groaned, and apparently infuriated, struck with all his force towards the ground where she lay. She swiftly rolled away, causing his club to sink into the stone floor instead, and just before he managed to retrieve it, she had flown up and swiped her blade across the side of his neck. 

Blood spurted out of the deep slit on his neck, and his legs wobbled. Not caring to wait and see him fall, Hilda quickly turned and continued flying towards her parents' chamber, killing a few more Kassarathi on her way, before she finally reached the room.

She stormed in through the already opened door. And her heart sank. No, no, no!

"Father!" she screamed as she ran towards the bed, dread consuming her. 

Her father lay still in place, blood soaking his chest, and his lifeless eyes half open. Hilda shook him frantically, sobs racking her body, and tears blurring her vision. She barely turned her face away, when her horrified eyes caught a presence by the bed on the floor. And there lay her mother, her throat slit open, and her dead eyes staring into space. Hilda screamed again, and just as she buried her face against her father's chest, more eastern demons swarmed into the chamber through the windows.

Blinded by rage she cried out and raised her sword against the four large men before her. And as if possessed by a demonic force, she turned and swung her sword with all her might, crying out with every strike as she slashed and sliced the demons who had just killed her parents. 

Blood splattered against her face as her blade sunk into flesh. She struck and stabbed without pause, and without heeding the cuts and wounds she received herself. Blood trickled down her face and body, blood that was both hers and her enemy's. She continued to strike and cry out in rage, for a very long time, until she realized that the four men were already long dead, and she stood there like a mad woman, blindly stabbing their dead bodies now lying on the ground.

She dropped to her knees, using her sword for support, and her chest heaved as she gasped for breath. She looked hesitantly towards the bed once more. Her heart tightened, and her lips quivered. Tears ran down her face mingling with blood. Footsteps and flapping wings echoed outside the room, followed by the clashing of steel and crying of men. She had to get out of here.

Wiping the tears and blood off her face, she rose to her feet, her legs shaking. She hurried to kiss her father's forehead one last time, and she knelt to do the same with her mother, before she carefully approached the window. Some of the men were still fighting hopelessly down in the courtyard, and most of the Kassarathi had already entered the keep. She looked around her, making sure that no more Kassarathi were attempting to enter through the windows or terraces surrounding her. And next, she leapt outside, flying up as high as she could, disappearing into the darkness.

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Hilda has fallen into a bad situation too. What do you think will become of her? And did you expect the Kassarathi to attack Nordenvania like that?

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