Get dragged off by the other men...

I did not see what happened to Brother Dain as I was soon dragged off by another brute. That night a steady stream of drunken men visited me for their enjoyment, all ignoring my plight to have them stop. Was it ten or perhaps twenty? I soon stopped keeping track as I was exhausted from the repeated humiliation. It wasn't until the sun rose from the eastern coast that a large set of hands carried me to the tallest tent, far from the dying bonfire.

I could feel my legs shaking as dried semen cracked between my thighs. My entire body felt numb as I counted the purplish, green bruises surfacing all over my skin. My benefactor laid me down on a pile of stitched linen sheets where he started washing me from last night's soils. As I turned my head to face him in the light I noticed he didn't have the same brutish features as the Northerners.

"Who are you?" I muttered.

Squeezing out a washcloth he smiled, carefully scrubbing the filth from my bruised skin.

"Depends. I was Ronan before my father sold me. Dirt Worm before my master was brutally beheaded. And here, well the folk here just call me Abmomo or Abo for short."

Abo had tanned skin that seemed once fair. Freckles dotting the bridge of his slender nose which was placed neatly between a pair of kind, tired eyes. Years of hard labor had left his hands gritty, swollen in some parts but his touch was most welcome, compared to what I had just endured.

"You're not a Northerner are you?"

"No, I'm from the Summer Isles, though I scarcely remember it. I've spent most of my early years traveling with my former master."

"Slavery. It is a cruel idea. When the Crusade army comes, I will make sure they free you from your chains."

Abo stared up at me puzzled, shaking his head. "What do you mean?"

"This island is Lindisfarne, the heart of our Order. The Crusade will stop at no expense to set this place free. They will come to rescue me and you as well. You could join the Order if you've nowhere else to go."

Abo continued to shake his head and this made me angry. Did he not understand?

"Your army will not defeat the barbarians. Vorro has beaten countless men, and won countless battles. You should feel lucky. He seems to have taken a liking towards you since last night."

The reply caught me off guard. The hours of pent up anger and frustration suddenly surged back. In a sudden fit of rage I kicked the wash bin beside Abo and watched it roll loudly outside the tent. Abo did not seem shocked nor offended and was eerily calm. But before I could offer an apology a loud pair of footsteps stopped in front of the tent flaps. Then entered the giant man I would later refer to as Vorro.