Ease The Dawn

Part 2, Chapter 12

With Hvitserk sitting on the trunk at the end of their bed, sword in hand, and the old healer in a chair at Aethelswith's side, Ivar closed the door behind him, nodding at the two guards standing on their posts. Moving down the passageway, he passed two more guards standing in the corridor at the entrance to the hall.

Leaning on his crutch, he limped toward Harald who sat in one of four chairs in front of the hall's unlit fireplace. Scanning the room and the guarded main doors, Ivar saw that Harald had brought only one man. The guy stood just inside the entrance and looked at ease. Loni approached, taking a spot next to the mantle as Ivar lowered himself into a chair across from a pensive looking Harald.

Waving off the attempt of a thrall to hand him a full horn, Ivar gripped his belt just beside his ax. Despite being king and sitting in his own home, he was aware that Harald held a position of strength with many ships in Kattegat's harbour and a formidable army back in his kingdom. It would be careless of him to forget that he sat on Kattegat's throne because of the old warrior-king's aid but staring at the bearded man now, Ivar's silence and hand resting next to his weapon conveyed an unblurred threat.

"How is she?" Harald asked, his elbows resting on his knees, hands rubbing together as a father might waiting on news of the birth of their child.

How dare you, Ivar wanted to scream, fighting the urge to drive his ax into the top of Harald's neatly plated hair.

"She is not dead," he instead replied, the word yet hanging in the air between them.

"Last winter," Harald cleared his throat, looking down at the table between them, "many of my people fell ill with a sickness that the healers could not name. They could not contain it even with the sick moved into tents away from the general population. It took many women and children, even strong men from my army. An old healer came to me and explained using simple water to wipe the hands of those treating the ailing would limit the number of sick. Simple water," he looked back up, raising his hands as if astonished. "Despite me trivializing this simple notion, it did, in fact, help."

"Is there a point to this?" Ivar's asked, his expression unmoved.

Leaning back in his chair, Harald continued as if oblivious to Ivar's tension. "She treated the sick, and some appeared beyond recovery, with a powder derived from a dried fungus. Many were brought back from the brink of death."

"You insinuate my healers have not tried remedies," he eyed Harald, lifting his brows expectantly.

"She has been sick over a month, Ivar. This woman, Tarin, is far more experienced than the average healer. She may be able to help Aethelswith. I could take her..."

"Harald," Ivar interrupted, narrowing his eyes, "why would this woman not come to Kattegat? If you feel so inclined to help."

"It is not so simple, she is aged now, and I could not possibly leave my people without care in her absence."

"No," Ivar replied, glancing away dismissively.

"Ivar."

"No," he looked back at Harald, his hand squeezing his belt.

"I am returning home in three days time. My ships require maintenance and restocking before the start of raiding season. I must, after being away, be visible on my throne. As you know, these are complicated times."

"Harald," Ivar clucked his tongue, tipping his head to one side. "Did you truly believe I would hand my wife over to you? And, in such a vulnerable state, hmm?"

"If it might save her life, yes, I think enough of you to believe you could set aside your pride for such a cause. For her."

"Pride?" his voice shot high, his eyes widened in disbelief. "My entire life I have set aside my pride, but I will never set aside my good sense. I am no fool," pressing his lips together, he shook his head again, his skin heating from the brazenness of the ambitious king. How dare he talk about his beloved, he thought and as she lay wilting away in an unwakeable sleep.