Displaced

Chapter 8

"Hey, Sigurd," called out a voice as Ivar passed. Ivar scowled to himself before he turned and looked behind him. Hvitserk and Ubbe were sitting at a table, each with a horn in their hand, and a jug of ale between them on the table. Hvitserk picked up a third horn from the table and tilted it in the air, aiming a smile in Ivar's direction. "Drink?" he offered.

Ivar hesitated for a moment. He needed sleep almost as badly as Sigurd had, but at the same time, in case Sigurd was wrong, he did want another opportunity to try to convince his brothers. He turned and walked over to them, sank into a chair opposite, and waited for Hvitserk to pass him the drink.

"We're not happy with you, by the way," Ubbe told him. His older brother pointed a finger in Ivar's direction using the same hand that was holding his drink. He took a long gulp of ale and sat back in his chair, staring across at Ivar disapprovingly.

Ivar frowned.

"He means for ruining our plans today," Hvitserk clarified as he filled the horn and passed it over. "You and Ivar disappearing meant we were stuck here all day with nothing to do."

Ivar raised his horn in their direction. "And skål to you, too, brothers," he said sarcastically, and took a gulp of his own drink. "And while we are airing grievances, I wish that instead of sitting around here being angry with us, you would have gone out to search. You might have made my day a lot easier." Not to mention Sigurd's.

"We were just saying that we can go tomorrow instead," Ubbe told him.

Ivar shook his head. He had no idea what tomorrow was going to bring; whether he would be himself again, or whether he would wake up and find that he was still Sigurd. Although he thought that it might be interesting to try to fight in Sigurd's body; to stand, and use the extra power that a working pair of legs would put into the swing of his sword, he was certain that Sigurd would not feel the same way about fighting in his body. Besides, just walking had taken long enough to get used to. He wasn't sure he was ready to fight.

He shook his head. "I have something else I need to do tomorrow," he lied.

Ubbe looked searchingly at him, then shrugged. "What?"

Ivar shook his head. "Nothing you would be interested in."

His two brothers glanced at one another, then both took a drink. "Ivar will come," Hvitserk said.

Ivar shook his head. "He's busy too," he said.

"And he's sick," Ubbe added, with a smirk.

Ivar shook his head, but didn't bother to reiterate that Sigurd was not sick, he was simply suffering the trauma of having woken up in the wrong body, and having had to learn how to be a cripple. Having gone through a similar trauma himself today, Ivar was willing to cut him a little bit of slack.

"I can't believe he went to bed so early," Hvitserk said. "Maybe he really is sick."

Ubbe shook his head. "He isn't, he's fine. It's just mother treating him like a baby again." He smiled. "I can't wait to see what she does when he finally decides he's had enough and leaves."

Hvitserk looked at Ubbe with interest. "Leaves?"

"Like we all will one day. None of us are going to stay here forever, are we? I don't know about you two, but I want to see some of the world outside of Kattegat one day."

Hvitserk nodded, and Ivar found himself nodding too. He intended to go raiding as soon as the opportunity presented itself. There were some... practical considerations to work around, but he had some ideas.