Chapter 12 – Earn
Synopsis: Ceolbert is hurt both physically and emotionally. Just as he wants the war to end, he wants to end the figurative war he has with Swayne. But how, is the main question. When Ceolbert seeks out his new "ally," he finds an unlikely source of advice. Will it be what Ceolbert wants to hear, or need to hear?
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, mention of miscarriage.
Ceolbert cracked his knuckles and took a deep breath. His whole body was stiff and achy from the beating he took from Swayne. The maids assigned to treat his wounds were practically smothering him with tinctures and cool cloths.
While he certainly appreciated the help, their fawning couldn't heal his bruised pride.
Ceolbert wasn't even sure he had an ego before today. He knew he'd risen well above his station when his father became king. But it was humiliating when faced with a challenger based on that newfound position, and to lose so miserably and publicly.
Repton had reverted to its usual rainy weather. It was a torrential downpour, in fact, a complete opposite of the sunny days they'd been graced with recently. It was almost as if England was moping alongside Ceolbert, further souring his mood.
Ubba and Ivarr's bickering wasn't doing him any favors either.
They had joined him in the throne room where many were taking refuge from the rain. Ivarr warmed his hands by a fire while a servant girl prepared beef stew, though she appeared to be distracted by the intimidating drengr.
Ubba covered his mouth as he yawned.
"Oh, I'm sorry, am I boring you?" Ivarr teased Ubba.
"I'm tired from being woken up in the middle of the night!" Ubba griped. "I've had enough of this, Ivarr. I'm constantly tasked with righting the wrongs from your recklessness!"
"So I ruffled the king's feathers with last night's fun! The old man will calm down eventually." Ivarr said indifferently.
Ceolbert rolled his eyes. He found Ivarr's casual attitude to be completely inappropriate. How Ubba didn't pass away from the stress incurred by Ivarr's behavior years prior was borderline a miracle.
Then again, he's surely had a few years shaved off his life from the stress.
"We need her to see this alliance through, or everything we have worked for will be lost!" Ubba insisted.
"Why must you insist on appeasing her?" Ivarr whined.
"Because if we pull anything remotely similar to what you pulled last night again, her next course of action will surely escape in the night and journey straight to Wessex!" Ubba said.
"Do not be so foolish, brother!" Ivarr drawled.
"Don't you dare call me a fool!" Ubba retorted.
"Then stop speaking like one!" Ivarr snapped.
"Please! Enough!" Ceolbert yelled. The servant girl was so startled she jumped away from her stew pot, nearly tripping over a bench behind her.
Ceolbert saw the mixed look of concern and surprise on the Ragnarssons faces. They knew it took a great effort to make him angry. A quality Ceolbert took pride in. But he didn't find joy in worrying his comrades; it's the last thing they deserved.
Well, in Ubba's case, at least.
"I need a moment alone, for calm," Ceolbert said firmly.
"What you need is a moment alone between a pair of juicy, warm thighs!" Ivarr snickered, thrusting his hips.
Ceolbert shook his head. The presence of whores eager to mount the legendary warrior was only further inflating his ego. Ubba smacked Ivarr over the head, making him relent.
"Where do you propose on going? It's pouring out there." Ubba said.
"Just…somewhere quiet. Besides, this is England Ubba. I'm well accustomed to rain." Ceolbert said tiredly.
Ubba chuckled. "Don't stray too far Ceolbert." Ubba cautioned him. Ceolbert nodded, put his hood up, and took his leave.
The rain didn't deter the people of Repton from its streets. Those more fortunate than most had hooded cloaks similar to Ceolberts, while others had to make do with makeshift covers made from baskets and other random objects.
Ceolbert smiled as he saw children squealing as they played in mud puddles. The noise of children laughing was a welcome contrast to the Ragnarssons.
But he couldn't let himself be distracted for too long. He had much to think about.
He'd just been in his first fist-to-fist dispute. A milestone to note down, for sure. He was no stranger to combat, but that was limited to battles where the objectives and motives were clear.
Enemy troops to defeat, comrades to fight and die alongside you.
Win the day to hopefully get one step closer to ending the wretched wars that cursed this island.
Ceolbert winced as he passed the square where his fight took place. The rain hadn't washed away the brick red blotches of dirt. Stained from the blood. And most of it was Ceolberts.
That duel was supposed to settle whatever quarrel Swayne had with Ceolbert. But Swayne came to that fight, not like a man using violence as an outlet, only to regain his composure once everything was set.
The man entrusted with guarding La Mère came to that with the ferocity of a wolf ready to tear a stray lamb into pieces. Ceolbert grimaced as he recalled the venom emanating from Swayne's pitch-black eyes.
Ceolbert knew a man's pupils dilated when faced with shock, anger, and thrills. With Swayne, it was hard to tell where his iris and pupil began and ended.
Is he plagued by endless anger? What a terrible way to live. I'll pray for him later.
Ceolbert reflected on the jumbled rant Swayne had gone on before the fight. He talked of how he found monarch to be obsolete. Something Ceolbert wholeheartedly disagreed with.
This land needs to be ruled by good Christian men, anointed by God. As a fellow child of God, surely Swayne had to see that.
Then again, he probably saw himself as a child of La Mère first, child of God second.
So many questions plagued Ceolbert's mind. He knew he had to pose them to someone. But to whom?
He then got a novel thought that was as mad as it was brilliant.
Ask Swayne.
If he could get a moment alone with him and talk, no Ivarr, no La Mère, perhaps he could better reach him.
He turned around and jogged through the streets, corridors of the building where prisoners were housed and finally reached the dungeon.
But Swayne was nowhere in sight. His chains, caked in blood from Ivarr's deranged "games," lay on the floor.
Where could he have gone? Father must've ordered for his release. I hope he's alright.
"EEK!" A woman suddenly screamed behind him. She was so loud Ceolbert jumped when he whirled around. A young woman holding a hand to her chest was catching her breath, clearly caught off guard.
"Who are you?!" She wheezed.
"I'm Ceolbert. The king's son." He introduced himself, bowing politely. "I didn't mean to startle you!"
"Oh goodness, where are my manners?" She curtsied.
Ceolbert shifted his feet awkwardly.
Perhaps being faced with royalty is intimidating. I hope my own people do not fear to approach me just because of my father.
"If I may ask, what brings you to this dreary dungeon?" The woman asked.
"I'm looking for someone. A man called Swayne. He was… here?" Ceolbert asked.
The smile vanished from her face instantly. "You mean my husband." She said flatly.
Ceolbert blinked. Or it could be because she blames me for Swayne's predicament.
"I'm sorry!" Ceolbert squeaked.
"Don't be. My husband is an idiot." She said plainly. "What do you want with him, anyway sir?"
Ceolbert gulped and straightened his posture. "I wished to speak with him. Try to make amends. I don't like how we left things. Not at all." He explained.
She scoffed at him but quickly regained her composure. "With all due respect, sir, you are the last person he wants to speak with. Besides, La Mère ordered him to stay away until the king grants permission." She said tiredly.
"I'm sorry, but do you mind telling me your name?" Ceolbert asked.
"Corliss." She said.
She brushed her hair tied in a long braid behind her back. "Why do you want to talk to him, anyway? Surely there are other people you can confide with?"
Ceolbert shrugged. "That's just it. Right now, I'm short of candidates." He motioned behind her. "Would you mind if we talk upstairs? It sort of reeks down here."
She shrugged. "Is that an order, sir?"
"If that doesn't compel you enough, I'll buy you a drink? Ceolbert offered. One
"An offer from the champion of Mercia. One I can't refuse." She said half-heartedly.
Don't sound so excited about it…
She beckoned him to follow. They hurried through the rainy streets before reaching the local tavern. Thankfully there was a table in the corner…
"What did you mean by that, short of candidates," She asked, taking a sip of her mead.
"Well, there's Ivarr. He's obviously a bad choice since he's…well… himself. And Ubba, his brother? Is too tired with corralling Ivarr because he's…Ivarr." Ceolbert said, chuckling nervously.
"And worldly wisdom from the king is beyond your reach?" Corliss probed.
"My father is a busy man, occupied with the many responsibilities of being king. He cannot always be there for me." Ceolbert said, his tone a little harsher than he intended.
Corliss clicked her tongue. "I won't pry," she said. Judging from her tone, she was probably trying to sound gentle. But it came out very forced, like she was imitating emotions she'd seen being expressed by someone else.
I think I understand why she is married to Swayne…
"Look, your goal is to appease my husband, yes?" She asked. Ceolbert nodded eagerly.
"Then defend La Mère. With all your might." She said simply.
"I've made a promise to do so. With the Ragnarssons by our side – "Ceolbert started.
Corliss shook her head and slammed her mug down, prompting him to stop. "No, not defend just in combat. But in efforts." She pointed to a group of children gathered around a table. They were watching two men play a game of dice.
"That little pack was eating grass and tree bark because they were so hungry! La Mère took them in, and look at them now!" She barked.
She pointed to a pregnant woman walking past them. Her belly was so big she walked with an awkward waddled on the uneven wooden floor. "That's Etilda. Pregnant with her fourth lost three before that! La Mère made sure they all got full burials with a grave overlooking the sea where they used to play!" She said through gritted teeth.
She looked at Ceolbert. Her amber eyes had a spark in them that could probably set all of Repton on fire, even in the rain.
"Defend La Mère both in combat and with her actions. Once you do that, Swayne will warm up to you enough so he'd be ready to talk." She urged him.
Ceolbert cocked an eyebrow at her. "Warm?" He asked.
Corliss shrugged. "Or the equivalent. Swayne isn't exactly known to be overtly affectionate to anyone except La Mère." She said grumpily.
"Not even you?" Ceolbert asked. Corliss eyed him with an expression that almost seemed to say "watch it, boy."
"And you? How did you come to be under La Mère's wing?" Ceolbert asked, desperate to change the subject.
"I grew up at an accelerated pace, like many of us." She said, shrugging.
"With respect, that… doesn't tell me much," Ceolbert said slowly.
"You are Mercia's champion, Ceolbert. But that does not make you entitled to our stories. Those you have to earn." She said, downing the rest of her mead.
"You sound like your husband, in a way. With the concept of earning. La Mère earned her position through an election." He gulped. "Can you at least tell me if you share the same view on monarchy?"
She smiled at him. "No," She reassured him. "Unlike my husband, I am more grounded into reality. La Mère's circumstances are beyond extraordinary. She leveraged those to get to where she is."
She pointed at him. Ceolbert took note of how calloused her hands were. She was surely someone who regularly worked in labor. She certainly had the temperament for it, or one Ceolbert would expect.
"You should leverage your position and the privileges that come with it to execute my advice. Should you take it, that is."
Ceolbert nodded. "I think I will."
"Now, if you'll excuse me, sir, I have to tend to my husband. I'm charged with his care," she said. She stood up promptly and looked at him for a formal dismissal.
"Is that why you were in the dungeon? Searching for him?" Ceolbert asked.
"Yes, and I must find him." She said hurriedly.
"Again, I am sorry," Ceolbert said.
"And again, he is an idiot!" She said curtly and marched out of the tavern. He could hear the children snickering, undoubtedly at him. They probably thought that was a lover's quarrel gone wrong, completely overshadowing Ceolberts noble intentions.
Ceolbert took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
Why must I constantly be surrounded by terrifying women?!