The Seeress

Chapter Twenty-Five

Harold remembered the last time he felt a lot of pain when he had a small cut on his shin. He always wanted to emulate his father, the way he imagined him thrusting broad strokes at the Nords. With his wooden sword, he poured his passion and anger at the invisible enemy. Even sneaked out of his bed on some nights so that he could swing his wooden sword again. 

"Harold... I am not sure about..."

"Enough Edwin, you will be alright," Harold said annoyingly at his cousin. Although he should be more lenient with his cousin. After all, Edwin barely had any rest as an apprentice to a scribe. "You are the one having the shield, you have nothing to worry about,"

Edwin raised his shield, which rather covered his face. Harold then lift his sword high, and pose in a manner he saw Westhaven soldiers would pose. Emulating his father's stance.

"Is he going to make it?"

"Die, Nordic bastards!" Harold screamed in his boy-pitched tone as he struck the sword at the makeshift shield. His mind was so focused on his 'enemy' that his perception was lost. He swung the sword again and again at him. 

"Let me tender the wound. All of you, row the boat."

"Harold, it's not fair you always strike at me!" Edwin cried out as he felt his shield hammered to him. Poor Edwin could barely carry his shield properly, not that his cousin cared. 

"Then strike back! Don't use your shield all the time!" Harold yelled as he gave another war cry whilst piercing at his cousin's shield. Edwin, in a fit of rage, swung his shield at Harold. Edwin merely strikes knowing that he would miss, but as he returned to reality, he saw his cousin holding his face in pain. Edwin trembled at his fallen cousin.

"Harold?" 

"Where is..." an old voice cried out, followed by gasps of shock as he rushed into the knocked-out boy. Harold felt the bruise that was painted on the side of his face with a red smear. Harold looked at him, and his eyes quickened to submit to humiliation for what he had done.

"You and your sword again..." another voice cried out, as Harold felt light taps hitting at the back of his head. "One more time I see you with that at dark, and I will make sure Father Baldwin will make you write until your fingers tremble," 

Harold felt the stinging pain itching in his body, as it lay numb on the ground. The words drawl in his mind, and he could not feel his limbs.

"Do you hear me, Harold!?"

Harold opened his eyes briefly again, and again. He saw Agnetha's blue eyes and oval face hovering over him, which made him forget his pain for a while. Her delicate hands which were now rough touched his wound, as Harold breathed again and again. Agnetha was quick to hold Harold's hands.

"Breathe in, boy,"

Harold could barely feel his shoulder, and whatever feeling he had left was pain. Accompanied by small droplets from the sea that touched his face. Agnetha had her delicate hands touch his shoulder, as her mouth moved to mention an enchantment. 

"Calm down..." a soothing voice said, as Harold's eyes shut themselves off. Slowly, he fell into a trance of a dark void.

...

Harold felt his body almost crushed, which reminded him that there were six people on a boat that could only house five. He then tapped at his right shoulder, expecting any pain. There was, but it wasn't as bad as he thought. As a matter of fact, he thought he imagined the wound the whole time. 

"He's awake?"

He saw Agnetha looking at him, as she gently held his hands. Harold breathed softly, as Agnetha again said something under her breath.