Chapter 8 - I Will Have Blood!
Ivarr groaned as he regained consciousness. He brushed a thin layer of dirt off the back of his head and looked around. He realized he was still in the burned down village. He couldn't believe he'd been knocked out because of something involving Sidsel. Twice. Though the circumstances were completely different. He wiped his eyes and furrowed his brow, almost trying to force the effects of whatever sleeping potion Eadberg used out of his body.
"Ivarr, you've awakened" Eivor said, offering her hand to him which he immediately took. Wolf-Kissed looked unharmed, save for her frosty blue eyes which were slightly reddened.
A familiar face. That's something.
"Hej Wolf-Kissed. What happened?" He asked, groggily.
"I only came to but an hour ago. Sonja's been tending to use both." She explained.
Ivarr saw the ice blonde girl sitting on a stool, grinding plants he guessed were medicinal in a small bowl. Her feet fidgeted, undoubtedly trying to cope with what just happened. She didn't look up, seemingly transfixed on her work. Maybe it was for the sake of making a viable antidote, but Ivarr suspected she was too scared to look him in the eye. We've lost a great deal because of you.
"And what of Ceolbert? Sidsel?" He asked.
"Gone. Taken by Eadberg." Eivor said solemnly.
"NO!" Ivarr yelled. He paced back and forth furiously before kicking a metal bucket out of pure anger. It made such a loud clanging noise Sonja flinched, almost dropping her concoction.
"Calm, Ivarr! We'll find them!" Eivor urged.
"Raaaa! When I get my hands on that bacraut I'll tear her lib from lib!" He roared.
"I understand your anger, and I feel it too. But I need you to keep your head!" Eivor said.
"Don't test me now, Wolf-Kissed." He retorted, jabbing his index finger in her face.
"She took my boy. MY BOY! And Sidsel! Only the Gods know what's being done to her." He growled.
"Then I suggest we set out." Eivor said.
"I-I must insist you don't." Sonja meekly peeped up. Ivarr crossed his arms, annoyed.
"And why the fuck not?" He demanded.
"Eivor has been treated for the poison but Ivarr, y-you are still impeded. You won't get a few yards away from here before passing out!" Sonja stammered. She poured more herbs into her bowl before offering it to Ivarr. He snatched it out of her hand and downed it. Unfortunately, some made it down his airway, causing him to cough and hack profusely.
"Wait here and listen to Sonja. I'll track ahead." Eivor said. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Fear not. I will return soon. Eadberg. Won't. Getaway." She reassured him. Ivarr glared at her wiping his spit off his chin but nodded in a begrudged agreement. As she walked into the thicket of lush woods that were spared from the fire, Ivarr plopped himself down on the ground. He knew he was in no state to do anything of use - a feeling of powerlessness he loathed.
The only consolation he found was knowing Eivor was a very skilled tracker. No one knew how she gathered the lay of expansive stretches of land with such efficiency. He knew it had something to do with her raven companion. It was almost as if she literally gained the eyes of a bird through their unique bond. Could that really be true?
"I'm grateful to the Gods that you're alive." Sonja said, but her voice had a poignant level of forced cheerfulness it made Ivarr cringe.
"That bacraut Eadberg was too cowardly to cut my throat." Ivarr spat.
"Perhaps she feared your brothers would personally seek revenge."
He smiled. "Aye...that they would. Maybe The High One would let me watch from Valhalla as they sent her to the Christian hell." He said gleefully.
Sonja shivered, obviously disturbed by the violent imagery. Ivarr rolled his eyes at her weakness. Your future healer is an engei, Sidsel.
The duo sat in silence as Ivarr complied with Sonja treatments. Running his hand through his greasy hair he tried to process recent events. Judging by Eadbergs attack, word must've reached her ears of her husband's demise. The only way it could've reached her so quickly meant a spy was within their ranks. He looked forward to dealing with them later. He also liked the prospect of Sidsel joining him in the fun. Especially given the direction it took last time.
But feeding the thought of her warm thighs was short lived when it dawned on him of what Eadberg was likely to do. Torture Sidsel, or Ceolbert. He pictured Sidsel being sliced to pieces with Ceolbert being forced to watch. The little king had to get used to the sight of blood being spilt. And with the Gods blessing he would come to enjoy it as much as Ivarr did. But Ivarr wouldn't subject him to something like that, not now anyway. Ceolbert was far too soft. Ivarr would never admit it out loud but he was fearful of what could happen
He would be more confident if he knew Eadberg. All he knew thus far was that she betrayed her family, was talented with a pike, and, to no surprise, loved her husband enough to avenge him this way. From their most recent "encounter" she surely must've realized she was to meet her demise. Her supporters were gone. Her husband is gone. She had nowhere to run, which meant she had nothing left to lose. Ivarr normally didn't care for such things, but this time was different. She'd taken things too far. He gripped his fists so tight it sent loud cracks into the quiet space. Again, Sonja flinched.
"I can't wait to spill your brains Eadberg!" He called out into the open air.
"Ivarr!" Eivor jogged over to him, having finally returned.
"About fucking time! Tell me you found them!" Ivarr said, jumping up to his feet.
"Aye. Eadberg has taken shelter in a cave just south of us."
"And Ceolbert? Sidsel? Are they alright?" He asked anxiously.
Eivor shook her head. "I could not tell. I suspect they're being held deep within."
"Then why the fuck are we standing here?!" Ivarr yelled.
"First we must secure Sonja! Find someplace safe to -"
"FUCK THAT!" Ivarr bellowed. He charged past his frustrated companion ignoring her cries of protest. He was not going to let some Saxon bitch take his friends like this. Not from him, for he was Ivarr the Boneless! Son of Ragnar Lothbrok! His blood ran fiery hot as he sprinted through the woodsy terrain. He didn't stop until he saw a cliff fast approaching. He screeched to a stop while his hands waved by his side wildly as he regained his balance. Thankfully the cliff wasn't too steep, the abruptness of its edge having deceived him.
But the Gods blessed him with luck because he finally saw what he was looking for: Eadberg. She'd made a meager fire outside the cave, almost like a beacon to draw attention. Maybe she was expecting him, or maybe she was just completely stupid.
"EEEEEEEEAAAAAADBEERGGGG!" Ivarr roared, his battle cry was so deafening it resembled Thor's thunder. Eadberg's head jerked up as the infuriated drengr charged at her. He withdrew one of his axes and flung it at her head. She barely managed to dodge as she picked up her pike. Ivarr chuckled at her pathetic state. Her face was littered with cuts and scratches. Tufts of her golden hair were missing. She looked as if she hadn't had a decent meal in weeks, but her amber eyes were filled with an unmistakable rage.
"It took you long enough to find me!" She taunted him.
"Where the fuck are they?! You better not have laid a finger on them!" Ivarr challenged.
"Oh, fret not about your beloved prince. He's in one piece. That fucking snake however...I cannot say the same." She said through gritted teeth.
"How do I know you haven't smashed in their fucking skulls?" Ivarr sneered.
"I thought you might suspect as much." She smiled, pulling out a small pouch from her pants pocket. The bottom was soaked with a dark red liquid, undoubtedly blood. Loosening the drawstring she pulled out something that only angered Ivarr further, which was somehow still possible.
Sidsel's amputated hands were being dangled in his face. Eadberg giggled.
"I once thought the rumors of the serpent's invincibility were preposterous. But I couldn't resist but put them to the test. She truly is impervious to pain. Sorrow. What my dear Cenric must've felt when she hacked him to pieces!" She screeched.
She tossed the hands on the ground and stomped on them. "She barely even flinched. Can't say the same for the aethling. Damn near pissed himself!"
"No...no no no no no no no!" Ivarr panicked. Eadberg snickered as Ivarr panicked when she suddenly yelped. She clutched her side in pain and dry heaved violently.
"Ceolbert seems to have gotten a few punches in!" Ivarr cackled. He scrambled to pick up the axe he had thrown earlier while withdrawing his second. Before Eadberg could try to defend herself, Ivarr stomped on the back of her knee, fracturing the bone with a loud CRACK and an even louder scream from Eadberg.
"Too easy!" He jeered. Finally, he could feed his lust for blood by hacking away at Eadbergs back. Wanting to see the light leave her eyes he flipped her over on her back before hacking her chest, legs, arms.
Everywhere.
Her screams morphed into gargles as she drowned in agony and her own blood. Satisfied, Ivarr put his axes back into their holsters before jogging through the cave.
"Ceolbert! Sidsel! Where are you?!" He called out. He squinted as the cave's walls omitted sunlight. Fuck, I should've brought a torch!
"Both of you better be fucking alive!" Ivarr yelled, charging through the cave.
Just be alive.
And closer.
...Please!
Finally, he came across a sight that quelled all his fears. Ceolbert and Sidsel were alive and in a shared, wooden cell. But instead of being welcomed as a rescuer, Ivarr watched in disbelief as Ceolbert sucker punched Sidsel so hard she fell to the ground unconscious.
"CEOLBERT?!" Ivarr yelled. Ceolbert looked at his mentor, his hands trembling not from fear - but anger. Rage. Something rather foreign to someone as soft as the Mercian prince.
"I... I can explain!" Ceolbert stammered.