Chapter 15: 15_Den of Barbarians

Straightening, Frank looked crossly at him. “Well, that’s not very nice, is it?! Sounds like you want me to sit on ya ‘n’ crush your bones!”

Already annoyed from being called a virgin, Harald fearlessly stuck his tongue out.

“No, Harald’s right,” Bjorn said gravely. “Your hideous face scared her.”

Ivar waved his hands in a panic. “Hush! She’s coming to!”

“Frank, go to the back so she doesn’t see your face,” Bjorn suggested.

Harald held up a small cotton sack. “Wear this over your head.”

“Shh!” Ivar said.

Dejected, Frank trudged away and left the others to tend to the girlie. After all, if his face was that frightening, it was only best to hide it.

Amie blinked hard, instinctively feeling the cool metal against her chest. Oh, no. She’d had her gem off for a long time, hadn’t she? That’s why she’d fainted. How idiotic of her.

She knew now that she was surrounded by a crowd of people and carefully controlled her emotions, holding back any simmering panic.

When she finally opened her eyes, she realized that they’d stepped back and weren’t hanging over her like she’d seen when she’d first woken up.

“Hello there,” the man before her said carefully.

She blinked dazedly up at him. “Good… good morning…”

“It’s past noon,” he said. “How do you—”

A hand stuck out before her face. “Pleasures to meet you. The name’s Harald, the ladies call me Mine.”

Amie suspected she was still unconscious and having a fever dream. “Mine?”

“Ho ho, milady." He smirked flirtatiously. "Aye, if you insist, I’ll be whatever you call me—”

A hard pull on the waistband of his underwear had Harald tossed to the back of the crowd where he wouldn’t see Amethyst even if he jumped.

“Don’t mind him,” Ivar continued. “He’s the local clown. My name’s Ivar. You do not need to fear, you are not in danger.”

There was a gentleness coming from the man that put Amethyst at ease. There was something familiar about him, about all these men. “Ivar. My name’s Amethyst. Could you tell me exactly how I… ended up here?”

“Ah. You must not remember.” He exchanged looks with a shorter, muscular man at his side.

That man leaned in, a cool but not detached look in his eye. “You were brought here by Steel. You know Steel?”

“Thoran Steel,” Ivar elaborated.

Amethyst stared at them and her expression slowly morphed from wariness to realization, to shock and then sheer horror. “THORAN STEEL!”

The men jerked back at her roar.

“THAT CRIMINA— aahh…” Wincing, she touched two fingers to her temple. She’d completely forgotten! He’d appeared last night out of nowhere. These men were all Barbarians, she was in danger! “Thoran Steel, that criminal…”

“I hear my name.”

Like they were programmed, the men around her moved, parting for their leader like the ocean for Moses.

Slowly lowering her hand from her head, Amie watched him enter. Clad in a bloodied white shirt and a pair of black trousers, he took confident steps toward her and she couldn’t take her eyes away. His power commanded the room, the glint in his eye one of complete self-assurance. Like he knew he was the mightiest of them all. Spite burned in her gut.

“You,” she snarled softly, glaring as hard as her migraine could allow.

A rarely seen smile curved over Thoran’s mouth. “Hello, partner.”

Amie grimaced in disgust. “What? Partner?”

He feigned puzzlement, nodding. “Of course. You’re my partner, not so? My partner in crime.”

Her patience had run out. “What on earth are you going on about? Why would I be partners with someone like you?!”

Barely containing the delight of being able to shove this in her face, Thoran slowly produced the newspaper from behind his back. “But… that’s what it says right here.”

Holding up the paper, he showed her the front page.

Squinting irately, Amie scanned the page.

The headline sunk into her head and she froze, eyes widening. Bolting upright, she snatched the paper for a closer look.

“Wh…. What?”

In big, bold letters was written there: ***Feared Barbarian commonly called ‘Steel’ makes away with Lady Hadgar’s riches with the help of a female partner.***

“But… but it’s not true!” she exclaimed in panic. “You *stole* from her?! But I had nothing to do with… No, this must be corrected at once!”

“I really didn’t know you had such noble intentions,” Thoran mocked. “I would’ve been a little nicer, had I known.”

“I had no intention of helping you!” she cried. “You tell them it’s a lie!”

He chuckled darkly, thoroughly enjoying this. “Oh, I’m doing no such thing, poppet. That’s who you are now. If I’m a criminal, you’re one too. Congratulations, you’re now the accomplice of a *loathsome* Barbarian. My partner in crime.”

*************** 

“No, you don’t understand!” Amethyst said desperately.

Thoran had emptied the room and now sat at his table, Ivar and Gunnar on either side of him. She had been trying to deny the entire situation since she’d opened her eyes, failing to see that… Thoran simply didn’t care.

“I wasn’t there trying to *help* you!” she explained, gripping the covers around her. “I was there trying to find you so I could *beat* you up!”

“So, you keep saying,” Ivar said. “Which I suggest you stop doing because those men out there killed any sort of animosity they had toward you, thinking you’d helped Steel. It would be best to stay in their good graces.”

“Sir, I don’t *care* about their good graces,” she muttered crisply, the words sounding so proper and authoritative, that they gave Thoran pause.

Who exactly was this girl? He knew she was from a wealthy background, considering the massive castle she called home, but the way she spoke… Just how high up in society was she?

“I won’t allow anyone to relate me to the likes of you,” she was telling him. “A thief? An accomplice? *Me?!* My mother would faint!”

Ivar’s smile was brittle. “If you cared about what your mother thinks, you would’ve stayed at home. Not running after a man twice your size with the intention of duelling.”

“What I do is none of your concern, Sir,” she told him daintily, nose turned up. “Wanting to restore my pride and protect my kingdom from that bully beside you doesn’t make me deserving of being called a criminal! And I demand an apology from you for insinuating such.”

“Good God.” Ivar sighed tiredly. Truly the female gender exhausted him. “Someone would think she’s a princess.”

His murmured words reached her ears and Amethyst slowly turned her entire body in Ivar’s direction, settling every ounce of her fury on him in chilling intensity. “That’s because,” she spat through clenched teeth. “I *am* a princess.”

Shock slowly gripped Thoran, tensing his every muscle.

Ivar scoffed. “Yes, and I share this body with another personality called Prince Charming. I mean, really.” Shaking his head, he laughed at the absurdity of what she was saying. “Since we’re telling each other ridiculous stories, right?”

“I *am* a princess!” Amethyst insisted. What was wrong with this billy goat of a man?! How mistaken she’d been to think he was gentle and kind! He was insufferable with all his sarcastic remarks.

Stunned by the casual revelation of her royalty, Thoran slowly looked up at Gunnar and they exchanged intense looks that simply read ‘Fuck.’ He should’ve picked up on it earlier. From the way she spoke, from how casually she had mentioned a king when they’d met, Thoran should’ve realized the girl didn’t just sound like a spoilt princess… she *was* a spoilt princess.