Chapter 11 – Where is he?
Synopsis: Ivarr has woken Ubba from a much-needed sleep, holding La Mère hostage. He claims he wants her to pay for Swayne attacking Ceolbert, but how? What scheme has Ivarr concocted this time?
Warning: this story will have very triggering subject matter throughout. Individual trigger warnings will be placed with chapters when appropriate. Any feedback is really appreciated.
Content warning for this chapter: vulgar language, graphic depiction of violence.
Ubba quickly put on his armored tunic and furled his cloak on his shoulders before rejoining Ivarr in the corridor.
"Let's go," Ubba muttered.
I'd hoped a whore would have seen me bare before La Mère, of all people.
Ivarr grinned and kicked La Mère's heel, forcing her to pivot. Torches lit the otherwise dreary halls.
As they passed by guards at their stations, the trio certainly earned some strange looks. But anyone who carried a sword here lived by three fundamental rules:
Do not get in Ivarr's way.
Do not get in Ubba's way.
La Mère was not to be trusted.
The third rule was especially paramount here. The guards probably figured Ubba and Ivarr had countless scores to settle with her.
No servants were around to witness the spectacle, and that was probably for the best.
"What is your plan?" La Mère asked.
"Our beloved king was so outraged at his heir being so disrespected! So he left your little slave to my devices." Ivarr said giddily.
"He is not my slave!" La Mère retorted, but she was silenced by Ivarr poking her unscarred throat with the tip of his dagger.
"What did you expect after what he's done?" Ivarr hissed.
Ubba pulled down his tunic so it fully covered his stomach while the two continued to bicker. Ivarr was wearing far less clothing, having opted to discard his shirt and only wear pants.
A chill crept down Ubba's spine as he pictured Ivarr savoring the blood of his victims spraying on his skin.
Whatever joy Ivarr took out of baring his flesh towards his victims was something Ubba would never understand.
And he wasn't sure he cared to, for that would require trying to understand Ivarr's mind. That alone was an impossible task, even for his own kin.
"I thought you'd be pleased with that arrangement, Ivarr. So why drag her into your fun?" And more importantly, why drag me out of bed?!" Ubba demanded, rubbing some sleeping sand out of his eyes.
"When I get to have my fun, I want to get feisty. I want to cut, burn, twist, and most importantly, break. I want to break that bacraut." Ivarr said through gritted teeth.
"Don't tell me your efforts have been fruitless?!" Ubba asked, surprised. That was woefully out of the norm. Swayne's resolve had to be borderline impenetrable to withstand Ivarr's cruel hand.
"As a matter of fact, they have! I even brought Ceolbert along to be my own personal audience! I have to hand it to you, La Mère, whatever training you put that boy through; he's won all of my games!" Ivarr remarked.
"Why must you insist on making Ceolbert witness such a sight?" Ubba asked, exasperated.
"That boy is the living, breathing definition of soft. The anvil of war must be paired with trials such as this if he's to become the man he needs to be. He needs to know what strength looks like! How to handle our enemies!" Ivarr argued.
Ubba rolled his eyes. Ceowulf was not going to be happy when news of this reached his ears.
La Mère said nothing, but it was evident she was hanging on every word.
Another mind Ubba didn't want to dive into was that of La Mère. She seemed concerned for Ceolbert's safety when she made Ivarr stop the fight.
But was that Mèrely because Ceolbert was Ceowulf's son? Even a lame mind could see him dying by Swayne's hand would seal La Mère's doom.
Swayne had sought out to cause the aethling serious bodily harm, if not his death. Far beyond the rules of a duel.
Then again, Swayne was starting to look more like a weasel by the hour.
Ubba recalled how La Mère behaved when she arrived on the scene. Her eyes were filled with fear and concern. And when Swayne was taken away, they'd switched to anger.
She was either a master at manipulating facial expressions, which would be expected given her profession, or she just might be as angry as Ivarr was.
Whatever the case might be, being held hostage by a Ragnarsson would inspire fear in just about anyone.
"But I have managed to make one tiny crack in his resolve, Ivarr said, grinning madly. "When I threatened to diverge from Ceowulf's orders to keep him intact."
"Ivarr!" Ubba scolded him.
"Of course, I have no intention of doing so, but Swayne didn't know that," Ivarr reassured him. "I threatened to remove a few of his fingers, shove them up his ass, down his throat, use them to gouge his eyes out -" Ivarr drawled.
"Get to the point, Ivarr!" Ubba whispered harshly.
"Alright!" Ivarr said, annoyed. "It wasn't until I threatened to make his foot like your daughters did he finally wince!" Ivarr said.
"That's enough Ivarr!" Ubba tried to grab him, but he swiftly dodged, still holding La Mère in a firm grip.
"She talks of conviction, yes? It's clear the boy is devoted to her. But how can he protect her if he can't fight?!" Ivarr spat.
La Mère drew in a sharp breath. Ubba realized what Ivarr had intended all along. Based on the two fights they'd seen Swayne in, he had to be ambidextrous. Simply cutting off a few fingers or an entire hand would barely deter him.
But no warrior, at least in Ubba's lifetime, had been able to compensate for a mutilated foot.
"You…have a point…." Ubba said slowly.
"So, here's what I propose! La Mère helps me break him even further. That will finally teach him to respect those superior to him!" Ivarr declared. "And I wanted you to join me! Spend some quality time as brothers!" He joked.
Ubba had to admit, it was a solid strategy. It was certainly deserved. La Mère should've had more control over her subordinate, and she wholly neglected a warning of his violent tendencies.
He just wished it didn't come up in the dead of night.
Well, La Mère, you're bringing my brother and I back together.
La Mère's lips pursed into a paper-thin line as she silently accepted her fate. There was no escape. She had to pay just as much as Swayne did.
Ivarr nudged her on the back, prompting her to quicken her pace. They hurried through the halls until they reached the dungeon.
Swayne dangled from the dungeon's ceiling; his ankles and wrists were shackled in rusty chains. His tattered pants barely covered his legs, swollen from bruises and bleeding wounds. His bare torso shared the same marks, and tufts of his black hair had been pulled out.
Ivarr's handiwork at its best.
True to his word, Ivarr had Ceolbert there to witness it all. The aethlings left eye was swollen shut, and his right eye seemed soon to follow. He groaned as he rubbed his inflamed cheek. It was a wonder how he was conscious.
And if memory served Ubba correctly, Ceolbert had even managed to keep all his teeth.
"Ceolbert! We have very special guests!" Ivarr said happily. He finally let La Mère free, not before shoving her to the ground, of course. She stood up quickly and was fixated on Swayne.
Ceolbert shook his head in despair. He knew as well as anyone there was no stopping Ivarr while he was on a rampage. The best thing the boy could do was stay out of the way.
Ivarr pranced over to a table on the opposite side of the room. On it, he had an array of torture instruments. Nothing that could kill a man outright, but with a ridiculously level of tenacity and an equally morbid sense of creativity, it could be done.
Ivarr certainly possessed both. But he seemed to have restrained himself tonight; otherwise, Swayne wouldn't be drawing breath.
Ubba took care to step over a charred corpse which he assumed was Aucassin. A grand French lord quite literally reduced to ashes, discarded like waste in a chamber pot.
Oh, how the tide changed for him.
If La Mère was capable of doing that to her own flesh and blood, who knows what she'd do to Swayne.
The way Swayne followed her reminded Ubba of how Halfadan's dog followed him everywhere.
Ubba chuckled at that realization. Swayne was literally as loyal as a dog!
Ubba propped himself up against the wall and crossed his arms.
Alright, La Mère, let's see how you reign in your mutt.
Swayne shuddered when he saw La Mère. "M-mother…" He said pitifully.
She walked over to him, taking no care to avoid the puddles of piss, blood, and mud.
"Where is Swayne?" She asked finally.
Ubba blinked. What?
"Are you blind? He's right fucking there!" Ivarr said like it was apparent. Not that he was wrong.
"No…" She stepped forward and glowered down at her trusted guard.
Ivarr glanced back at Ubba and shrugged.
"Do not take us for fools, La Mère!" Ubba warned her.
"This isn't him!" La Mère insisted.
"Mother, I am here!" Swayne said, bewildered. She struck him across the jaw so loud it echoed in the dungeon like thunder.
"Silence, you imposter!" She yelled.
"What is the meaning of this?" Ubba asked. He stood up straight and stepped forward, but La Mère held a hand up, stopping him.
"Swayne, like us all, has his faults." La Mère said. "He drapes his jealousy with anti-monarchal dialogue. Fancy words he ironically steals from those he claims to hate most!"
"Mother?" Swayne asked worriedly.
La Mère shrugged. "But! He manages to keep a steady head. Especially in battle." She suddenly jabbed her finger into an open wound on his bicep. Swayne yelped and squirmed in his chains.
Ivarr rubbed his hands together excitedly. He was finally getting the outcome he wanted.
La Mère pointed to Ceolbert with her free hand. "This boy hanging here attacked Ceolbert." She poked Swayne again but let her finger nestle in the wound. He groaned as she pressed it in deeper and deeper.
"This boy…broke protocol!" She said, this time twisting her finger slowly, making his flesh squish loudly. Chunks of coagulated blood plopped down to the ground, making Ivarr giggle manically.
She withdrew her finger and marched over to Ivarrs tool table. She snatched up a hefty whip before cracking it in the air with an effortless flick of her wrist.
"Mother, please!" Swayne pleaded, but he was wholly ignored.
"This…this thing here…you honestly expect me to believe it's Swayne?! My Swayne?!" She asked, seemingly dismayed. "You damn near ruined everything we've worked for, you stupid thing!"
She cracked the whip, this time hitting Swayne in the center of his chest.
"I trust Swayne! Swayne protects me! Swayne honors my decisions!" She yelled, whipping him again.
"So, I will ask you again, you pathetic little creature! WHERE?! IS?! HE?!" She bellowed, whipping him over and over again.
"Stop! Please! That's enough!" Ceolbert pleaded with her.
She finally stopped and tossed the whip across the room. It flopped awkwardly before landing with a dull thud.
Ivarr was correct in assuming she'd know how to break him. But Ubba never imagined something like this to come from her.
This was the rage of La Mère des Batards. Incurred by the treacherous actions of someone she trusted. She was angry, and it seemed she had every right to be.
"Some mother you are, worrying about yourself!" Ivarr taunted her.
Her neck jerked so quickly it was a wonder she didn't break it. She glowered at Ivarr; her pupils were completely dilated.
"When you attack the mother, you attack the lifeline of a family! Everything begins and ends with the mother!" La Mère bellowed. She grabbed Swayne by a tuff of his hair.
"La Mère des Secrets would have you chopped up into tiny pieces, your flesh turned to stew and fed to her newest recruits!" She tightened her grip. "The babies she had us use as props? They'd gnaw on your bones to cope with their teeth coming in!"
She released him, wiping the sweat and dirt from her hand onto her robes.
"But King Ceowulf wants you alive. And I am to obey my king. Should Swayne miraculously emerge from the shadows, please send him my way!" She said.
I'm sure your wife will thank the king for his mercy. But the poor thing won't have life take hold in her womb for quite a while. Lord knows the problem won't be her.
"I know not this thing before me. But should Swayne miraculously emerge from the shadows and protect me, then it would be a damn refreshing change of pace!" She yelled.
She took a deep breath and let out a rough exhale. It was more on par with a cough. She hacked on what was surely spit that managed to go down her air pipe, clinging onto her chest before regaining her composure.
"Satisfied?" She asked.
"Aye," Ivarr said. "We might have more in common than I initially thought!"
"Ivarr!" Ubba shushed him. She walked past without another word. But Ubba could make a steady stream of tears on her cheeks.
"You two are not alike, Ivarr," Ubba said and looked at his brother.
"That was reminding a master how to punish slaves that step out of line." Ivarr spat.
"You take joy in this. You tortured them both." Ceolbert said sadly.
Ubba shook his head. "No…that was a mother beating her own child."
Ubba turned to leave, keen to have La Mère return to her room without Ivarr causing any more trouble.
Gods knew there had been enough of that for the night.