Chapter 3 - The Ritual
A week has passed since Sidsel fell ill. The bacraut was elusive before, but now she had completely vanished from view. Hedda was tending to her in her hut and allowed absolutely no visitors. Ivarr had tried to peek in the entryway but was quickly dragged away by Hallvard who appointed an armed guard to the hut shortly after. Despite her dramatics and prolonged absence, the Gunvaldson Clan was acting as if nothing was amiss.
Servants frequented her nest, or whatever they called it, with hot water and scrub brushes to clean up the shit left behind by Eadberg. It was like they wanted to ensure Sidsel had a clean "workspace" for an eventual return. He also saw them bring stale, often moldy bread to the cells where Sidsel had locked up the poor souls destined to be experimented on until their God decided they'd suffered enough. Ivarr enjoyed catching a glimpse of those once brothers in arms reduced to animals as they fought over crumbs. But he was once again dragged away, this time by Leofgifu, who appointed yet another guard. Nobody here knows how to have fun!
But ultimately, the most frustrating aspect of this situation was no one was willing to tell him, Eivor, or Ceolbert what was going on. Whenever they asked everyone would reply with "you shall see" in a rather ominous tone. If I hear the phrase "you shall see" one more time, I'll drive my axe into someone's skull!
"Ivarr?" Eivor snapped Ivarr out of his frustrated trance when Eivor waved her hand in his face. "Are you still with us?" Eivor asked, chuckling.
"Ah, yes." Ivarr said, coughing. "Where were we?" Ivarr asked. "We're reviewing the possible locations of the Lady Eadberg and Lord Cenric. I feared you were falling asleep." Eivor said, smirking.
Ivarr groaned. "Those engei's are more like snakes hiding in the grass than Sidsel!" Ivarr complained. "Time after time they manage to slip through our grasp." Ceolbert said, discouraged.
"Why are we nothing with this hunt, anyway? We reinstated Hallvard, the traitors are on the run, tails between their legs. Are we not done here?" Ivarr asked. "King Ceowulf wants to ensure they no longer pose a threat. As long as they challenge the rulership of this shire, peace is at risk." Eivor explained.
"My father knows all too well the threat of usurpation, having taken part in it himself. He's afraid of setting a dangerous precedent that will result in the instability of Mercia." Ceolbert added.
"Your father is not the first to engage in such a coup, and he will certainly not be the last. When you succeed him, you'll surely encounter similar challenges?" Eivor said, crossing her arm. "You'll have fun with that, little king!" Ivarr said, patting the visibly nervous prince on the back. Ceolbert rubbed his temple when he suddenly became transfixed on something across the courtyard.
"Um, Ivarr?" Ceolbert asked. "What?" Ivarr replied. "There's a -" Ceolbert started. "Yes yes I know, a shit chance of finding them." Ivarr said, dismissively. "I... wasn't going to say that…" Ceolbert said, slowly.
"Well then what?! Spit it out boy!" Ivarr said, exasperated. "There's a prisoner escaping through the courtyard!" Ceolbert said, insistingly.
Eivor and Ivarr followed Ceolbert's gaze until sure enough, spotted a Saxon soldier limping through the courtyard. Ivarr recognized him as the very scout Sidsel had tortured prior to them retaking the fortress. That can't be a coincidence. "Hey!" Ivarr yelled, preparing to unsheathe his axe.
"Wait...something is amiss!" Eivor said, grabbing Ivarr's shoulder to stop him. Ivarr grunted in frustration but realized his companion was right.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Ivarr had been so preoccupied with his thoughts and planning to notice until now. There was no bustling of servants, bantering of fellow drengr, nor the giggles of children playing. The only sound was the prisoners panting and a faint crackle from lit torches. The prisoner looked around wildly and cried out in fear upon seeing the confused trio, but even when he tried to run faster his limp severely impeded his speed.
"Come!" Hallvard suddenly approached them. All three of them were taken aback. He was adorned with several ornaments made of human bones. Femurs were attached onto a thick staff he was carrying, a necklace with human molars wrapped around his neck, and a crown with fingers. All of which were connected with gold wire, similar to that of Sidsel's elaborate jewelry.
"Come...and you shall finally see." Hallvard said in a low, somewhat menacing voice. "Father please!" Sunngifu rushed over, her face displayed obvious concern.
"This must be done." Hallvard said. "What is he talking about?" Ceolbert asked her. "Ceolbert, you are a Christian, yes? Avert your eyes, come with me to the - "She began.
"ENOUGH!" Hallvard boomed, slamming his staff down on the ground. The force made his bone clatter loudly in the quiet space. "Why must you insist on entertaining such evil?!" She asked, desperately. But she finally shook her head, realizing her defeat.
"Fine. Go then. I will pray for your souls. All of your souls!" She said before rushing off as quickly as she had come.
The trio followed Hallvard through the stone corridors. "What is going on?" Ivarr demanded but Hallvard remained silent. They were soon joined by other drengr wearing similar ornaments. Some had their bones connect with silver, others with thick rope. Guess those with a higher rank get the good stuff. As more drengr continued to trickle in they started humming lowly, filling the air with a strange, almost somber aura. Finally, they reached their final destination, the entrance courtyard. While Hallvard was unphased, Eivor, Ceolbert, and Ivarr stopped dead in their tracks.
"By the hand of Thor…" Ivarr breathed.
The walls surrounding the spacious entrance were filled with drengr. The torches they carried lit the air ablaze with a warm, orange glow in stark contrast to the darkness of the night. They all stared down at the courtyard, clearly waiting for something. But what?
Finally, the scout frantically emerged, his face flushed red and drenched with sweat. Upon seeing the scene before him he was so in shock, he lost his balance before landing face first onto the cold, hard stone. He laid there, dejected and having given up. Ivarr sneered at his weakness. He's gotten this far. You could at least put up a fight! Suddenly the large wooden entrance gates creaked open at two vikings pulled at its massive doors. Ivarr couldn't believe what - or rather who - he was seeing: Sidsel.
She had exchanged her elaborate bone ornaments with a simple matching pair of leather armor shirt and trousers. Her bullwhip was attached to her hip, and she stood there seemingly proud and resolute.
"Hello there!" She said enthusiastically.
"W-what is this?! Y-y-ou set me up!" He squealed. "Well, at least whatever is between your ears is still working. You'll need it for the trial." She spoke.
"Trial?! Why?! I've told you everything I know! Secrets, plans, yet you let me live! Just kill me already!" He begged her.
"Oh, I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to save you, one way or another!" She jeered.
The scout blinked. "What?!" He cried.
"I offer you a unique chance of salvation! If you can defeat me and walk out of this gate, you are free to leave." She said, bowing as if she was bowing to a king.
"WHAT?!" Ivarr asked, dismayed. He looked at Hallvard but he was completely focused on his twin.
"I-is this what your people call a holmgang?" The scout asked. Sidsel rolled her eyes. "Were you not listening? You will live! Holmgang's are to the death. If you defeat me, you are allowed to leave. My clan will not pursue you unless we meet again on the battlefield." She said, motioning to the open doors behind her.
The scout eyed her carefully. "And... if I lose?" He asked, cautiously. "You shall live to see your God." She said, placing her hands on her hips. "What is that supposed to mean?!" The scout asked. "Do you accept?" Sidsel retorted. The scout shifted his feet nervously, unsure whether to accept this bizarre offer or not.
"What in God's name is she doing?" Ceolbert asked Eivor. Wolf-Kissed shrugged. "It pains me to say it but the only thing we can do is stand here and wait." She spoke.
"Oh! I almost forgot!" Sidsel said, snapping her fingers. A drengr rushed to the scout and tossed a bow and quiver filled with five arrows. He barely caught them in his shaky hands.
"I noticed you had an archers' glove when you first joined us! I figured that would be your weapon of choice." She said with a sly tone. He nodded, which Ivarr couldn't help but chuckle at.
That boy is going to get destroyed!
The scout hesitantly drew his first arrow and aimed at Sidsel's head. He released the arrow, sending the arrow sailing across the courtyard. But Sidsel promptly knocked it out of the air with her whip, splitting it in two with a loud CRACK.
The scout shot again, this time the arrow landed smack dab in the middle of her stomach. Though her armor had blunted the blow it was evident to Ivarr it had dug in a few inches in. The scout shot again and again, nailing her in the arms and legs twice each. She staggered a bit before collapsing on her back. The scouts mouth twitched into a smile and sighed in relief. He limped towards the entrance, discarding his bow. Ivarr looked at Hallvard. "You're not seriously going to let him get away?" Ivarr asked, punching Hallvards arm. Once again, he was ignored. "Do something!" Ivarr whispered harshly. With the scout only ten yards from Sidsel's lifeless body Ivarr was about to jump into the ring to finish the job himself.
But then the unbelievable happened yet again. Sidsel got up.
Sliding her back on the ground, she contoured herself upright so fluidly it was semblant of a snake's flexibility. The scout screamed in horror and stood frozen, gawking at what he surely thought was an abominable creature sent from his hell. Hallvard grunted loudly and banged his staff on the floor. The drengr around him started chanting lowly, banging their staffs down in unison. The beat started out slowly with the tempo increasing with each bang.
Sidsel's mouth was splaying a wide, demonic grin reminiscent of Fenrir's. She kicked the scout in the middle of his gut so hard he flew back several yards. Withdrawing her whip once more she began beating the scout repeatedly. He cried out like a pig being slaughtered as she beat his arms, legs, torso, and face. The drengr crowd erupted into full applause, cheering her on. Ivarr was surprised to see her move with such grace. The whip had become an extension of her body much like his axe was an extension of his in battle. Ceolbert had looked away, disgusted at the spectacle while Eivor and Ivarr continued to watch intently.
Seemingly satisfied with her handiwork Sidsel pulled her whip back and held her hand up, silencing the crowd. "I told you would meet your God today!" Sidsel said, grandiosely. "But you shall have sooooooooo much more!" She jeered.
"I am Sidsel Gunvaldson, of the Clan of Bones! But I…" She marched over to the scout who was twitching in pain. His face was so swollen with bruises and bloody gashes he was unrecognizable.
"I am your death!" She yelled. Once again, the staff's banged down.
"I am your life!" The clan repeated the bang.
"AND AS OF TODAY, I AM YOUR GOD!" She roared, kicking the scout square in the jaw, finally knocking the poor soul out.
The courtyard was dead silent, save for the raspy breathing of the unconscious scout. But a soft tapping of footsteps paired with a cane caught Ivarr's attention. Hedda was slowly but surely making her way towards Sidsel. Upon reaching her, Hedda circled her, like a hawk examining potential prey. She placed her hand on Sidsel's shoulder and said something. Despite no interfering background noise Ivarr couldn't make out the words.
Whatever she said though, Sidsel burst out laughing, which acted as a cue for the surrounding drengr to disperse. They made sure to keep their voices down but they were acting as if nothing had happened. Ivarr, Eivor, and Ceolbert looked at each other, all unified with complete and total confusion.
What. Just. Happened?! Ivarr was able to think of little else after witnessing Sidsel's fight. The placement of those arrows would send any drengr, including himself, into writhing pain. But she simply played dead to catch the scout by surprise.
Sidsel. Weak, engei Sidsel, just performed a grandiose display of strength, and dare he say, invincibility.
Upon further reflection he decided it wasn't a fight. It was her taming an animal. It reminded him of the glory tales of Romans killing things en masse in their grand colosseums. But to what purpose did this serve Sidsel or her clan? Eivor and Ceolbert clearly shared the same sense of shock. While his two companions resorted to meditation and prayer, Ivarr had resorted to mead.
Though there was only so much his favorite beverage could do. Sidsel was more than met the eye, and he just assumed she was weak because she didn't fit the mold he expected. No, the mold he wanted. He didn't like it, but he wasn't so proud he lacked the capacity to admit he was wrong. If he was going to figure out anything, he'd have to go to her and apologize. Assuming she wasn't too proud to accept it.
Taking a deep breath, he took a mug from a soldier who'd passed out, filled it with mead, refilled his own mug, and walked to Hedda's hut. Here goes.
Sidsel and Hedda were huddled around a small fire with a boiling pot of stew. They were giggling as Hedda applied cloths soaked in what was probably a medical ointment on Sidsel's many wounds. Sidsel's cheery disposition changed when Ivarr approached. She glared at him, clearly suspicious as to why he was there. "I... was hoping to have a word." He said, trying to sound confident. "Ah." Sidsel said tersely. "And you come with mead as a peace offering, I take it?" Hedda asked, ringing a blood-soaked cloth out onto a patch of nearby grass.
"I figured you'd earned it after...what you did." Ivarr said, uneasily. "I'd offer you to walk with me but…" He said, motioning to Sidsel's injured legs. "You are welcome to sit." Hedda said. Sidsel looked at her, displeased. "The mighty Ragnarsson has come with a peace offering, Sidsel. You'd be rude not to take it." Hedda warned her. Sidsel begrudgingly pointed to a rock adjacent to the fire, which he promptly sat on. He extended his mug of mead to her which she took, eyeing him carefully as she took her first sip. They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments, the crackling of the fire and simmering stew the only noise that filled the air.
Fuck it.
"I'll be blunt! I have no fucking idea what just happened!" Ivarr said, finally.
Sidsel smiled. "Few know what to make of the ritual the first time they see it. And given how it's usually exclusive to clan members. I hope you see why the rumors about my...abilities weren't exactly accurate." Sidsel said, almost coyly. "I can see that...at least, I think. Out with it then!" Ivarr said.
Sidsel sighed and looked into the fire. Its bright flames lit up her icy blue eyes. "I wasn't always like this. When I was an aethling I was quite the opposite." Sidsel said before taking a swig of mead. "What did that look like?" Ivarr asked. "Fast. Agile. But most importantly, with potential. A drengr in the making." She said, wistfully looking at the stars.
"But that all changed when I was only six winters along. I had challenged Hallvard to see who could climb a tree faster. I won the race of course. After reaching the top I jumped down and landed awkwardly. But I didn't feel anything." She spoke. Ivarr blinked. "Nothing?" He asked. "Well, I could...how do I say this...I could acknowledge the feeling of the ground, but now what you would call pain. I walked home because I didn't think anything was wrong." She said, tapping her mug with her thumb.
"A few days later I was bathing in a nearby stream and my mother noticed something was very wrong with my feet. They were all shades of black, blue, and yellow. Malformed." She said, tersely. "Broken." Ivarr surmised. She nodded. "She immediately carried me to Hedda, desperate for help. But...they couldn't be saved. Not fully anyway." Sidsel said, quietly.
She leaned down and undid her gauntlets before yanking them off. Ivarr dropped his mug of mead upon seeing her ghastly feet...or what was left of them anyway. Two-thirds of the top of her feet were missing, having been reduced to scarred over stubs. She turned her boots to show Ivarr a thick wooden block on the inside occupying where her feet would've been. "My father had these boots made for me every year as I grew. They help, but I'm fairly stationary." She spoke.
"And you...didn't feel a thing?" Ivarr breathed. It finally clicked. "You...can't feel pain!" He said, surprised.
"Hedda must've had me chug countless cups of tinctures, potions, and Gods knows what in hopes of unlocking a vision that could explain it. I had so many visions I forgot which world I was in." She said, exasperated. "And where did that lead?" Ivarr asked, listening intently. "Hedda came to the conclusion I was cursed. For reasons unknown." She spoke.
Ivarr chuckled. "Cursed? I figured being impervious to pain would be a gift! Sure, you'd have to check yourself but…" He said, motioning to her feet. "Pff! Invincible?! Those damn whispers that've stretched across this island have clouded your vision, for you can't see what's clearly before you. This. Is. A. Curse!" She yelled, slamming her mug of mead on the ground. Splatters reached the fire making it hiss loudly. She gritted her teeth at him, the rage fumed off her like Fenrir preparing to make a kill, startling Ivarr. Hedda put her hand on Sidsel's shoulder to comfort her but Sidsel slapped it away.
"The body protests in the form of pain when something is wrong!" Sidsel continued. "So, you may remedy it! When you break a bone, when you're ill from a fever, hell, even if you have to piss or shit! Those torches all over my nest are not for mere lighting. When they run out of oil that's literally a reminder for me to piss. You can imagine how many embarrassing moments had to occur before I figured that out." Sidsel explained, angrily.
Ivarr held his hands up defensively. "How the fuck did you expect me to know that?" He protested. Sidsel relaxed her jaw, obviously realizing he was right. "Your curse...did it trigger what happened a week past?" He asked, carefully. She nodded. "Aye. A great flame takes hold in my head, to the point my body breaks down. Spasms out of my control and I fall into a deep sleep." She smiled warmly at Hedda. "Were it not for Hedda's treatments, I would never wake from them." She said, gratefully.
Hedda patted her on the head. "Meh, sometimes you're worth it." She teased.
"You and Hallvard are twins...does he suffer the same afflictions?" Ivarr asked. "Thank Gods no, and neither do his children." Sidsel said, relieved. "How has he handled it? Beyond carrying out that ritual." He asked. "Ever since our parents sat us down with Hedda to figure out how to literally make sure I didn't die, nor bring the death of our clan upon us, he was supported. But when he married Leofgifu and brought the twins into this world...he changed." She said, solemnly.
"Did they fear they would suffer the same curse?" He asked. She nodded. "Especially when they had the twins. Leofgifu cried and cried and cried after giving birth. She drank so much wine to cope she could barely hold her head up, let alone nurse them. On occasion she'd pinch them to make sure they'd cry. And when they did, she'd cry even more, that time out of relief." She said.
"That's cruel. Even for me. It's like she wants them to inherit that pole she's got up her ass." Ivarr joked. "My sister-in-law and I do not get along except when it comes to those kids. Fault her for many things, and believe me when I saw that list is long. But her heart beats for her children. She ensures they get a comprehensive education, and even lets them choose their religion once they're of age." Sidsel said.
"I still find it hard to believe you can be in a family with combating religions." He spoke. "Somehow they've made it work. Though I bet Hallvard doesn't appreciate it when his own wife and daughter call him a heathen when I exercise what skills I have." She said, jokingly.
"If fighting is off the table for you, why choose torture? I appreciate the craft but it seems an odd choice." He spoke. "I'm shit at everything else. I can't weave, can barely ride a stallion, every crop I plant dies, I almost set our village on fire trying to cook, you get the idea." She explained, somewhat sheepishly. "Were it not for this infernal curse I'd spend every waking moment on the battlefield!" She said, wistfully. "I hear you there! I'd rather have a culture clash with swords and axes, not religious discussions." He jeered.
He smiled at her. "I... understand now. Or at least I think I do." He said, happily. "Wow, the great son of Ragnar Lothbrok is honoring little old me?" She said, teasingly.
"I am merely speaking the truth! Do not think I cannot appreciate fine Norse women!" He said, insistingly. "I've been a cock, and unfairly so." He admitted. "I appreciate you coming here. I suspect it will still take you several moons to fully understand, though. Not that I'm trying to insult your intelligence." She said. Ivarr shrugged. "Just know I'm starting to respect you, now that I know you're not some bacraut posing as a great warrior." He said. "I suppose that's...an improvement. Thank you." She picked up her mug and raised it to him in respect. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must retire." She said, warmly.
"It's so early though!" Ivarr said. "I sleep with Hedda." She explained, but gulped when she realized the implication of her words. "N-no, that's not what...not like that!" She insisted. Ivarr laughed. "Do you sleep with Hedda like you slept with Baard?" He teased. Sidsel groaned loudly. "That bacraut! He still gloats about that?!" She whined.
"I believe the phrase he used to describe it was an experiment…" Ivarr said, scratching his chin. "Oh wait! One last question." Ivarr said quickly. "What did Hedda say to you after you defeated that scout?" He asked. "She liked how I didn't get an arrow in my ass like the last time I performed the ritual. Also, his name is Wretch." She explained, a sinister smile splashed across her face. "Huh. Lucky you." Ivarr said. Sidsel rolled her eyes. "Away with you!" She said and entered the hut.
Ivarr looked above and sighed happily. He felt more at peace than before. Wasn't expecting that either.