Ease The Dawn

Chapter 6

Amusement pulled at the corners of Ivar's mouth as he tore meat from a small greasy rib bone. Slouching casually, he rested on an elbow in his wooden chair under the canopy of the tent used to meet with his men.

"Are you listening?" Hvitserk asked.

Following Ivar's line of sight, Hvitserk saw the Princess standing down on the rocky shore of the stream among a few thralls. Her face was locked in concentration as the women seemed to be showing her how to bait a fishhook.

"Ivar," Hvitserk repeated, running his hand through his hair.

"Yes, I am listening." Ivar's lifted his cheek as if feeling the breeze on his skin, the smile was now gone from his face.

"You had King Alfred's scout turned away. Why? What is the plan?"

"I am waiting."

"For?" Hvitserk raised his hands in question, his expression showed his confusion.

"Tactics take time. Let the king's concern for his sister..." pausing, he searched for the appropriate word, "fester." Picking up another rib, he began tearing off the meat with his teeth.

"Why not tell the King, now, that you want the area on that side of the river. Like we discussed."

"Like we discussed, like we discussed," Ivar mocked, irritated. "I will."

"What are you waiting for?"

Sneering, Ivar threw his rib down onto the platter and glared up at his older brother.

"Are you not listening?" he hissed.

"Maybe, Ivar, you are thinking she will be cozy once the frost comes," he said, lifting his brows, looking back toward the ladies standing at the water's edge. Aethelswith was now giggling with one of the younger slaves, wrinkling her nose in disgust holding a grub in her hand.

"Do not be moronic," Ivar scoffed. "There are plenty of women here if I want to warm my bed," he stared at Hvitserk, impatient for him to be done.

"Yes, Ivar but you never do."

"Do I need to remind you why, hmm?" Ivar's eyes narrowed at Hvitserk before glancing back towards the riverside. Exhaling slowly, he forced air out through his nose, pushing down on his armrests to straighten in his chair.  Squinting, his eyes zeroed in on her petite form, standing on the rocky beach. His mind seemed to settle and he wondered if she had enjoyed the milk he had organized to accompany her breakfast.

——

Nearly a month had crept by since their first meal and game of tafl. Despite the rigid atmosphere in those early days, Ivar had since taken all evening meals in the tent with her. Aethelswith was curious as to why and skeptical that his sudden interest in conversation was to put her at ease. Instead, she had suspicions that his strategy related to withdrawing information about her brother and his kingdom.

She waited for him to ask a question relating to either, but so far, he had not. In the meantime, she rather enjoyed the variation in her isolation, as guarded and awkward as some of their discussions had been. Foolishly, she even looked forward to sunset, each day, which marked the time of his return for the night.

"My Lord, do you ever sleep?"

"Not compared to you," he jabbed. "I have never known a person to require so much rest. Are you practicing for death?" he dropped his chin and eyed her.

"Should I be?" she looked back with a flat expression.

"Princess," he leaned forward, smirking, "I have no current plans to send you to your god."