It was dark when she heard them over the sound of her teeth knocking together. She heard them laughing and shouting, heard them speaking in that strange language, and then she saw them, throwing things into the boat, saw limbs and hands reaching and pulling and big boots landing on the wood around her. They were all so tall, all so tall and big, surely they weren't normal men, surely they weren't really human. There was a shuffle and a sway of the boat as they moved and then the sound of something heavy landing on the wood, of people crying out in words that she could finally understand.

“Let us go!” she heard and she turned, seeing the faces of other women from their town, seeing them cry and pull on their ropes.

That was when the other men seemed to notice her, when they stared at her with their eyes big and wide and a heavy silence fell between them. Then one of them spoke, reaching with a knife to cut at her rope, but then she heard a voice so deep it was almost like a rumble of thunder and the man froze. They all turned, looking at that beast of a man who had carried her here sitting, cleaning his axe in his lap with a cloth.

The man beside her said something else while they all waited, while they all turned to keep watching that man and his axe, and then he nodded, a quick, curt nod that was more like a twitch, but they all laughed, some of them reaching to pat him on the back, some of them eyeing her with big, fat grins on their faces. She shook her head, pulling her knees together even tighter, tears welling in her eyes and making them sting, just how many of them did he plan on sharing her with? She didn't want to know, she didn't even want to think about it, but then the boat moved, then they pushed off of the riverbank and down stream.

“Wait…” Enid said. “Let me go," she shook her head. She had to go home, she had to, tonight was the night that Cormac was going to propose. "Let me go!" she shouted, but one of those men snapped at her, pulling his hand up as though to slap her with the back of it and she winced.

For a moment that was enough and she was too afraid to do anything else, but then she pulled on her ropes, fighting and trying to break free.

“You have to take me back! You have to-,” she started, but that man stood up, looming over her with his fist raised and his face scrunched up in a terrible scowl.

She froze then, her eyes big and wide, a sickening weightlessness gripping her stomach, but that blow never landed, a hand gripped his arm and held him back, a hand that had tied her up to begin with.

The two men spoke, their voices deep and low, their eyes never once leaving the other’s face, and then that giant grunted and the man who had wanted to hit her sat back down. She sighed then, she couldn't help it, her shoulders dropping and that wince leaving her face, but soon she was stiff again and she was more afraid than she had ever been before.

She looked into those eyes, those terrible, cold, sky-blue eyes, inches from her own. She wanted so desperately to run, to hide as far away from him as she could, but all she could do was stare and press herself harder and harder against that mast, just hoping that he would leave her alone, and then there was nothing but darkness, nothing but darkness and the stench of dirt as he put a sack over her head.

How long she stayed there, how long she did nothing but cry, she couldn't say, but when she was finally let out, when she could finally breathe a big gulp of fresh air, the moon was out and there was nothing around them but open water. He held something to her lips, something rough and dry, something hard. It was a moment before she recognised it as a stale bit of bread and she pursed her lips and pulled away.

He bit into it, his teeth tearing and chomping through it, almost like he was showing her what to do and he held it up to her lips again, but she shook her head. This time he finished it off and she watched as he followed it with a big gulp of something in a hide flask. Before she knew it, it was under her nose and for a moment she was tempted and found herself inching towards it, but then the smell hit her, something thick and heavy, something somehow sweet but rotten all at the same time.

Her head snapped back, almost banging against the mast she was in such a hurry to get away and this time he didn't offer again. He took another swig for himself and replaced the cork, and then he was reaching for that sack that had been over her head.

“No…” she whispered. “No, please don’t,” she shook her head and he looked at her, those eyes never blinking as he studied her. “Please…” she said, but those cold eyes were the last thing she saw before the darkness took her again.

The next time he let her out, there was sun, not bright and warm but the crisp, pale sun of daybreak. She gasped breathing in that fresh, morning air and feeling it reach all the way down to the bottom of her lungs. This time she bit into that hard, stale bit of bread, this time he waited for her to chew her way through it, but she couldn't bring herself to drink.

“Water…” her voice was cracked and croaky, but he only stared at her as she coughed. “Water,” she said a little louder, and then she watched him put that cork back in and reach for the sack again. “No, please no!” she said, shaking her head and trying to back away from him.

For a moment it looked like he would do it anyway and she had to fight back her tears, but then he held them both up in front of her. She stared at them, her eyes flicking from one to the other, and it took her a moment to gather her courage, but but then she jerked her head towards the flask. So slowly she leaned for it, her eyes closing as she got closer and closer, her forehead furrowing in a slight crease as the smell hit her. She didn't think she could do it, she didn't know if she should just change her mind and go back for that stinking sack, but she was so thirsty.

She tasted it, something almost sickly sweet and heavy like beer and she almost choked, that taste bringing tears to her eyes, but then she didn't care and she was taking big, deep gulps and coming back for more. He pulled it away and she gasped, so loud and so hard it almost hurt, and then she looked up at him with eyes that were big and wide. She saw him reach for it again, lifting that sack in his hand and searching for the opening.

“No,” she said. “No, please," she shook her head and he stared at her, those eyes nothing but cold and hard, but then he stood up and went to his place near the back of the boat to fiddle with his axe again.

She watched him for a long while, watched him tighten the straps and run his fingers across the head, but it didn't look like he would change his mind and come back for her. He didn't even turn to talk with the others, like so many of the other men did around him. She sighed, feeling her shoulders drop as she leaned against the mast. The whole day he said nothing, the whole day she could do nothing except stare out at the sky and the endless sea. How far away from land were they now and what would happen if this boat sank?

She closed her eyes, feeling that ice-cold shiver run down her spine at the thought of all that water around her and she pulled her knees up close, but by the evening her shivers were real, they made her teeth bang together and her insides shake as she curled up tighter and tired to keep warm.

She saw all those giant men pull out big furs, saw them wrap themselves in snug as they chatted and sang together. None of them looked to the women tied around that mast, not one of them offered to help or warm them, except him. He was in front of her, that stale bit of bread and that hide flask in his hands and a knife. Her eyes went wide as she felt the burning bite of panic grip her stomach, but then he cut her loose and she gasped, wringing her fingers in her hands, rubbing the aches in her arms and legs as she winced. She took them then, tearing through that bread and taking big gulps of that sickly sweet flask.

“Can I have some?” she heard and she turned, seeing a young woman behind her, her face gaunt and pale, her eyes half-closed.

Enid swallowed, staring at that flask in her hand and feeling the weight of it. She didn't want to share, not really, not when she had so little and she didn't know when she would be getting it again, but then she saw that dim light in that woman's eyes and she nodded.

“Here,” she said as she held out the flask, bringing it to that woman’s lips, but then she felt hard, stern fingers grip her wrist, pulling and yanking her away from the mast towards the back of the boat.

“No!” she shouted. “No, wait!” she fought because she knew that it had come, the moment she had feared, the moment she had hoped was no longer coming.

How many times would he take her and how many of these men would he share her with after he was done?