Tora clung to Wilfred, hiding her face against his neck and peeking in time to watch with a fascinated horror as he bashed in the head of one of the draugr. The painkillers were fading and reality was sinking in with terrifying clarity. She was still wrapped in the monk's heavy robes, her bare feet dangling far above the ground as she was tucked in against the big Saxon priest. The ache of her back and between her thighs was coming back but she hardly felt it as the madness swirled around her. 

Haakon's appearance cheered her some, for he was a familiar comforting presence with his sword and shield. Surely her master would be right behind him with more men to protect them. As they made their way out, fighting back the flesh hungry creatures she realized that was not to be. It was only Haakon and the slim blonde girl, Svala, she recalled vaguely who clutched a bearded axe. Her grey eyes focused on Vigi and Faolan, knife and spear forcing aside the draugr, her saviour Anndrais' long bow twanging sharply above the din of the snarling draugr. 　

Tora trembled like a leaf at the sight of Harald. Her throat ached, she wanted to scream and leap from Wilfred's arms, to run away and hide from the sadistic man and his hounds. She clutched at Wilfred, turning her face against his shoulder, her fingers finding the leather of his slave collar. She felt a lump, as if something was wrapped in the twisted strips of leather and she held it for a moment. At the sound of Harald's voice she jumped, cringing and gripped it tighter, forcing herself to stay still. 　

Tora cried out as she saw the little girl get pushed into the fire, her heart wrenching at the sight. Where was Ragnar to stop him? Where was Sigrid and the swords of the Jarl? She held onto Wilfred and watched the scene unfold, sobbing against the priest's rough tunic as Vigi was beaten. The man's voice cut through the sound of the fire, she remembered the mocking cruelty when he took his turn with her. As much as she wanted to forget, she could recognize the faces and voices of those men among Harald's group that had hurt her and she was even more frightened of them than the draugr. 　

When Hallerna stood up to them, she felt unexplicably proud of the woman and feared for her. Much like her mistress, the healing woman who had taken such tender care of her, spoke out against Harald who could be so very cruel. She had come to reason her assault was the craven false thegn's answer to Sigrid's sharp tongue and what happened to her could happen to Hallerna or her daughter. Tora felt sick at the thought but the words rang true in her ears. Harald was being called what he was, a liar. But the truth was no shield against a steel sword. 

Faolan gave up his spear without a struggle, watching Wilfred slam his weight against the door, still balancing Tora as if she were no more than a sack of flour. He could see her face grow even more pale and her round eyes wider, even as the draugr were being contained. He turned quickly as Vigi warned Haakon and spat in anger as he saw the approach of Harald and his torch bearing troops. [i]Damn his eyes,[/i] he swore to himself, glowering at the Vikings. The man always knew when they were vulnerable, the Irishman had no doubt he had his slaves spying everywhere. 

Faolan grit his teeth to keep from shouting in horror as Harald had the girl Robbie saved seized and pushed back in. Loathing rolled in his stomach, the cruelty of the man knew no end and the memories of his first owner who was so much like him flashed in his mind. He wanted to fight back, as he knew everyone standing around him did and yet he did nothing. [i]Impotent and spineless slave that I am.[/i] He felt hot tears sting his eyes at the sound of the screams from the fire and the sight of Vigi and Hallerna standing their ground. He longed for his spear, but what good would it do him. He would be the next pushed into the flames or cut down where he stood. 

Before he could put a hand out to stop him, Robbie was past him, heading into the fire after the innocent girl. Faolan swore at him to get back but it was ignored much as the monk's protests. 

He looked up as Hallerna shouted her insults at Harald, the woman had more guts than he to speak out as she did. As much as he admired it he also thought it foolishly brave. His eyes fell on Tora cradled against Wilfred's chest like a little girl and the monk beside them. [i]God help us all because we're alone,[/i] he thought, wondering again where Ragnar and the housekarl with his men were. Haakon alone was no match for the two dozen or so warriors arrayed in armor with axes and spears.