The Seeress

Chapter Thirty-Four

Day by day, John always walked at the gates, tending to his men as he stepped on the ground to check its texture. He looked at the many fires before him, seeing the white raven hanging high in its banner. The two guards that were posted did not shiver, but John could see their mortified faces.

"Wipe that face-off, you are a soldier of Westhaven," John said, as their face slowly shift to a more stoic one. John sighed, knowing full well that there was no hiding from their low morale.

"They have already gathered," John heard his son say, both of them standing at the walls of Broncaster. John was startled, as his soft voice pierced the silence. "And the men we were promised, aren't coming..."

"What are you doing here?"John asked. He then saw his son strapped in armour, with his shield and sword at his back. "You should be in the bed, why have you come here?"

"How can I rest, knowing that they are here? Would I rather wait and die?" Edwin replied, seeing the army before him. "We are abandoned. We are at death's door, with Nordic steel brandishing at our flesh. Not the end I wanted of course,"

"Silence!" John said, turning to his son. "You do not say this, to anyone! The men are already faltering in morale, and I would not want you to speak this heresy at once!" Edwin looked at him, he did not say any words, but John knew that his words were meaningless as he saw Edwin's glare.

"There is no hope..." Edwin whispered. "But I do not wish to merely wait for it. Which is why I came here. I never got to be a scribe..."

"Edwin... it was not my fault," John said to his son. "The king saw us as outlaws, and we exiled ourselves. You know that,"

"Indeed, and for years I was forced to be a brigand," Edwin said. "And if God wills that I will die as one, so be it,"

John saw his son stare into the fields. He wanted to say that his son was merely afraid, that he had no reason to. But he too also stared at the fields. The thousands of men who outnumber them greatly stood there, he could see the few of them drenched in animal blood. They were ready for them. "Alas, these days should be theirs," John said. "Where the Nords will scour our fields of grain as they had done years ago,"

"Would you want to live long enough to see it happen?" Edwin asked his father, as he still pondered over the army in front of him. "Where the men of Westhaven fail their nation?"

"No my son... That is why I remain here," John said. "I have chased nothing but gold, I thought it was the only thing worth fighting for. But now that I see them... no amount of gold can save us. Even if we flee, they will march to Westhaven, and burn down our lands,"

"And Harold is among them," Edwin said. "Would you think we would meet him again? Hopefully not as enemies,"

"That traitor..." John said. "Back when we met that witch, he had always said he wanted to kill her. Now he becomes her servant? A pathetic shell of his father... I would not wish for him to witness his son."

Edwin braced at the gate, the cold winds trembling his muscles. Edwin, whose heart was filled with fright, had given in to death. Knowing that its cold hand will pull his soul away. Edwin uttered under his breath with words that echoed in his mind.

"The soft winds blow, as the voiceless children cried
For the past glories of their fathers had all but faded,"

...

Knut stayed quiet, closing his eyes to calm his rage for the storm beyond. He saw the walls still standing there. He expected Broncaster to fall within weeks of siege, but it seemed that they were too stubborn to die off. But they must be weak enough to be mere prey to them, Knut thought.

"All of our soldiers are ready, sire," Erik said to Knut, as he stood up to see the iron walls in front of him. 'If only my father could see where his son is," Knut thought as he stood before his own army. A collection of warriors who wandered for a saviour. Erik waited as it seemed to him Knut meditated.

"Prepare the siege weapons, and get the seeress," Knut said as his eyes did not move. His demeanour shifted to the army standing in front of him. Their eyes gazed at their leader. "Tonight, the Westerners will see their sins repaid. Their lands retaken! And within the walls of Broncaster lies decay and death,"

Harold stood afar, watching the seeress slowly walk towards her brother. "Each of you made an oath! That you will avenge your fathers, avenge the women of Freyja! As the time has come for you all,"

Agnetha placed her soft hands onto Knut, his eyes black with markings that hid his vengeful spirit. With the bowl that was filled with blood from the beast she slit her knife into, she smeared his face gently. Knut raised his axe and yelled 'Skal!' as he drank his father's cup. As the wine slurped to fill his body with fire, Harold saw the berserker and warriors standing, all of them were more beasts than men.

"May the gods witness this moment," Knut said as the fire rages on. The battering ram was already pulled onwards, the same ram that was used during the Great War. Harold recognized it as 'Brytare', the breaker of walls. "The men at Broncaster are starved beyond reason. Let us put an end to their misery!"

The warriors all shouted one word collectively, as one being. Death, death to Westhaven. The night dawns, as the fires within Knut's men cackled. "Are they starting to attack?" Harold asked the seeress, as her eyes were fixated on the walls of Broncaster.

"They already have ever since we surrounded them," Agnetha answered. "They are starving in the walls as we speak. They are already dead, they don't know it yet,"

The army made sure that Agnetha was far back in the army. Slowly, Agnetha prepared herself, soft whispers were made as she knelt on the ground. Given the staff, she grasped it as words on her staff came out. Agnetha closed her eyes, as her hands and legs shivered. Harold could barely see her with the damp fire only showing her face and shoulders. Her clear blue pupils are gone, and only the white eyes remain. Her soul connected to Odin himself.

'Hear me, Odin, hear me...'

Harold took a few steps back, seeing the seeress raise her arms upwards to the stars. Agnetha then hugged herself tightly, her eyes now gazing at the grounds. Harold then saw little children, girls mostly with flower petals on their foreheads. Their soft little voices sang as Agnetha moved her body upwards. As if their voices were bridges to the aether.

'Let your servant borrow your strength' Agnetha sang, as Harold saw the walls in front of him slowly lit up brightly. Harold saw as the fire spread among the eastern part of the wall. The darkness pierced, as Harold slowly became more horrified at what he saw. Men threw themselves from the wall in flames, as the cries grew louder from the walls. The drums beat as the men howl for their deaths. The men charged without hesitation, their minds echoed death as they accepted their fate.

Harold was astounded as Agnetha split images of herself all around the wall. Each of them all mimicking the real seeress trance. 

"Let your powers flow to me..." Agnetha spoke as the stars shifted in her favour. And the wind howls her name in return. Agnetha slowly spread the fire amongst the walls. And the walls cried for help in vain as if it was an isolated door to hell where every soul became sucked into their realm. As the fire enrages, Knut raised his axe as they all collectively cry for war. Charging towards the gates to see their enemies spill blood on their hands. Agnetha raised her hands to the sky. 

The front warriors charged, offering themselves as a meat shield for the archers to fire. Whilst the arrows were spent on their shields and their bodies, the men carrying the ram pushed forward with ease. Despite the chaos, the archers at the gates were still united in firing at them.

"Push harder!" Knut yelled as his men were dying one by one. Harold saw the battlefield, as he himself could not bring himself to fight. It was a blessing then, that the Jarl had decided to make him stay at the rear so that he would not have to kill his own kin. He merely waited as his seeress danced.