Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Oh, and Erik? Try and have a little fun while you’re at it.” He grinned.
Erik exhaled sharply as he left to find the others.
Chapter 7
Cherine
Ifelt like I was drifting away on an iceberg in the northern seas, a chill seizing my body so deeply, I could feel it in the marrow of my bones. It was dark on this iceberg, and I prayed to my forsaken God that I could find peace in the darkness, that the cold would finally go away.
God answered in the form of a warm hand on my shoulder, gently shaking me awake.
“Cherine,” I heard God say. “Cherine, you must eat or you will die.”
Am I not dead? I thought lazily, noticing how easily I had accepted it.
I heard something scraped along stone, and a wavering light flickered in from behind my closed lids, making them glow faintly red. The sound of water being poured followed by the clank of metal echoed in my head.
Warm hands were on me again, this time at my mouth. A trickle of lukewarm water spilled over my lips, and I opened my mouth involuntarily. I hadn’t taken any water for what felt like forever, and it flowed down my throat like a foreign object, nearly choking me.
“Come, sit up,” came the gruff yet gentle voice. I knew now it wasn’t God at all, but Erik. Strangely, for the first time in the week he had been visiting me, I wasn’t afraid of him. I reasoned it was because I was too close to death to care.
I allowed him to raise me until I was sitting up, and my coughing subsided. I felt his large, gentle hands under my chin, tipping my head back. He offered me more water, and the more I drank, the thirstier I became.
“Slow now, dear maiden,” he whispered, his voice somehow omnipresent in the dark. “You don’t want to make yourself sick. Will you eat for me today?”
I couldn’t find the strength to shake my head. He cleared his throat, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “If not for me, eat for yourself. Please.”
Then, a soft piece of bread was at my lips. After a moment’s hesitation, I opened my mouth and took it in. My jaw ached as I chewed, but I complied and swallowed. The bread tasted like nothing, but already, I felt warmer from the digestion.
“Please,” Erik said softly, cupping my delicate face in his hands. “Look at me.”
I wanted to keep my eyes closed out of spite, but something compelled me to open them. Erik’s strong, beautiful face was inches from mine. I wondered when I began to think he was beautiful, or if perhaps I had always thought so, and my hatred of him just clouded my judgment. I could see the length of his dark eyelashes, how they framed his icy eyes. Behind him, a few torches glowed brightly, and I could make out a large tub with steam escaping from it.
“You need to drink more,” he said, his voice rich, his Norse accent apparent as he navigated French with ease. “You need to eat more. Then, I must bathe you.”
A small shudder rocked through me.
His eyes softened with concern. “The bath will warm you,” he explained.
I wanted to tell him that I didn’t shudder because I was cold but because I was afraid again. It was a peculiar kind of fear—not for my life or my sanity, but for my pride.
He handed me back the jug, trying for my hands. I grasped it, eager to prove I wasn’t as weak as he thought, but even raising the jug to my mouth was a struggle. Still, I did it, and he watched me like a hawk.
After I had my fill of water and had chewed an entire slice of rye bread, Erik reached for my shoulders and helped me to my feet. I couldn’t stand on my own, so I leaned against the hardness of his side, marveling at how tall he was, how firm his muscles felt. I was utterly helpless, and I had to swallow my hatred of it.
“I would undress you,” he said slowly, and I felt him peering down at the top of my head, “but we can do that later.”
He led me to the bath then picked me up as if I weighed nothing before slowly lowering me into the steaming water.
My pulse quickened as I hung in his arms, dangling above the bath. But the minute the warmth lapped around me, making my filthy shift float like a cloud, all my muscles went slack. I finally felt something other than cold, and it seemed to warm me from the inside out.
With just my head above the waterline, I leaned back against the edge of the metal tub and watched warily as Erik reached into a smaller bucket, pulling out a bar of soap and a long stick with stiff boar bristles at the end.