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the city of Kiev. Insolence
of any kind will be met with cruel punishment, even death.”
    Lord Tor shouted, “Mark them! We leave
tonight for Kiev. I’m eager to taste my prize.” He turned on legs
that were far too skinny for his heavy body and exited the room
with his entourage of servants. Kieran nodded to the two caretakers
near the fireplace, silently giving the order and turned to leave
the room.
    Crimson screamed out, “Kieran!”
    Sena was shocked by the outburst and
implored, under her breath, for Crimson to quiet herself, to
stop.
    Kieran stopped in mid-stride but did not turn
around. A caretaker briskly made his way to Crimson and brought a
heavy leather strap across her buttocks. It stung and caused her to
lose her breath but she kept her eyes on Kieran. She hoped he would
turn and rescue her from the selfish lover that was Tor.
    Kieran raised his right hand over his
shoulder and showed two fingers, the leather strap cut through the
air a second time and reached her skin, the skin responded with a
red welt. Crimson lowered her head and Kieran exited the room.
    Sena turned when the door closed. “You are
brave or stupid. I suggest you keep your compulsions in check.
Kieran must like you because I’ve seen far worse punishment for far
less transgression.” Sena’s statement brought a mischievous smile
to Crimson’s face.
    The caretakers, near the fireplace,
approached a table near the pool. They carefully poured water from
a cask marked with a single crucifix into a large silver bowl. They
opened a wooden case and collected the branding iron inside.
    Each of the chambermaids gathered a mortar
and pestle from the table near the edge of the pool and crushed
herbs into a gelatinized fluid, added the mixture to the silver
bowl then coated the exposed inner left wrist of the captives.
    Crimson could feel the effects of the
coating. It tingled on her skin and seemed to evaporate, leaving
the patch of skin on her inner wrist numb and cold.
    “What are they doing?” she asked in Sena’s
direction.
    “Numbing the skin for the iron.”
    The caretakers marked the young man across
from Sena first. They dipped the head of the branding iron into the
holy water and herb mixture and placed it to his skin, it seared
but the man did not cry out. They then moved to Sena and repeated
the process.
    “Does it hurt?” Crimson asked when they
finished branding Sena.
    “No, but we will branded for life.”
    Crimson cringed when the caretakers
approached her. She didn’t watch. She heard the sizzle when the
head of the iron made contact with her skin, the smell of
wintergreen filled her nostrils. The caretakers left the pool and
returned to their positions near the fireplace. Crimson leaned her
head as far as her extended arm in the cuff would allow, and could
see the mark, a large “T” with a small “o” over the stem of the
T.
    She immediately despised the finality of it.
Mark or no mark, she didn’t belong to anyone but herself.
     

Chapter IV
    ~ The Trade ~

    Throughout the night, horns broadcasting
orders and battle cries through the night’s air merged with the
sounds of galloping horses and men marching in regular intervals.
Just when Viktor’s mind would enter the delicate threshold of
sleep, Swedish forces that were on the move would awaken him.
Memories of Crimson tried to flee but Viktor wouldn’t allow them.
The inner fight to remember kept him awake, and because of this and
the noise, he didn’t sleep well through the night.
    The sun arrived from the direction of
Finland, peeked over the Baltic Sea and he woke to the thundering
sound of another company of cavalry galloping by. He draped an
animal hide over his shoulders and warmed his hands and feet near
the remaining embers of the campfire. When warm and awake, he tore
a hunk of bread from his loaf, ate one of the apples, and leaned
against the willow he and Crimson called their own. Mindlessly, he
watched a company of men head toward the port. His