The Seeress

Chapter Thirty One

Lieutenant Godwin did not want to venture outside of Broncaster. The men had reported again that the Nords had yet raided another village. It was unmistakable that if reinforcements do not come, they won't have enough nights to fend them off. And now he had to relay his report to the captain, who sits alone at his chambers.

"My lord... I have something to say..."

Cuthbert looked pale. He did not want his wife or his child to see him, as his mind was shrouded with the threat of famine and death. He had sent a rider to request reinforcements several weeks ago, but he had not returned since. The winters have clearly wearied his mind. Clearly due to the fewer rations that he and his men had to take. He had been trapped in Broncaster, not wanting to hear anything from the people he was to protect. The last man that he wanted to see right now, was his own lieutenant who always had a slice of terrible news.

"If you are going to speak, speak," Cuthbert said as his breath stiffened. "Do not linger, it only makes my spirit dampened," Godwin was but a replacement, as Cuthbert could not afford to spend time finding a proper replacement.

"We have captured two assailants. The two that you have described sir," the lieutenant said briefly. Cuthbert raised his eyes as if a spell to sap his spirit was taken away, seeing his lieutenant nodding as if he asked whether it was true.

"And who are they, Godwin? And be precise."

"We do not know. But they claimed to be merchants heading to Volmeria," the lieutenant answered. Cuthbert stood up and saw the lieutenant's eyes whether he was jesting.

"Bring me to them at once," Cuthbert ordered. Alas, a whisper of hope that this famine would end, Cuthbert thought as he swiftly followed the lieutenant. "I do not wish for this to be a waste of time,"

Cuthbert went downwards to the dungeons, far deep below Broncaster. Since the incident with the seeress, it was awfully quiet, as there were not many men here anymore, since most of them were executed to save more food. Thus, whether the two brigands would still be alive hangs on his mercy. His tolerance for their survival lowers by the moment.

"Here they are sire... the older one told me that he knows you personally," the lieutenant said as Cuthbert dismissed him. Now alone, Cuthbert lowered himself to see who he is.

"You remember when I taught you to how to parry well?" the old voice croaked as he coughed bitterly. "You were always... an aggressive one. I always made sure that you would grow to be a powerful then,"

"Yes... and you also the one who aided them willingly. So as I was told," Cuthbert said, as he tore down his hood to see his face. He cringed looking at his depraved body coughing continuously. "Oh, Sir John... knight of Westhaven. The man who fought alongside King Wilfred. How far you have fallen... now but a fugitive to serve a sworn enemy. Do not try to use pity on me."

"If you were in my position, you would not find it easy to deny such an offer. I do not choose to be a brigand," John said, his beard shown to have covered most of his face. Cuthbert then looked at the younger one, hugging himself as the cold moved his muscles. The winter had not stopped, and it took a toll on him.

"That man is your lad?" Cuthbert pointed his sword at the one who was shivering. 

"Yes... my son... He needs food..." John said. Cuthbert however, appeared unsympathetic still. Edwin shivered with his weak body sullied by the cold winds and his empty stomach.

"And what reason should I give, as my own people are starving daily," Cuthbert replied coldly.

"I would tell you who and where the seeress is. I know much about her since our journey," John answered coarsely. "You have hunted for her in months, but your efforts proved fruitless. And your men are getting restless despite chasing like dogs all the time. A couple of morsels of bread for us is all we ask for. We will spare any story that we know about her,"

Cuthbert looked at him, seeing that his eyes were too bright for him to lie. John was never known to lie, as far as he could remember his time with him. Still, he clung on to his honour. "Bring them some bread, and a torch to warm their skin. Do not even attempt to question, do it." Cuthbert went outside to order his men, as he returned to see the haggard man laying down.

"You will explain, everything to me. Starting the day when you met her," Cuthbert said. For a moment, John felt his pride swell, seeing his squire towering over him. At least he gave something back to the world.

...

Harold saw the Nords finishing up the last of the prisoners. He made sure to stand far from them so that he would not be mistaken to be a survivor of their raids. As he had done many times since he swore loyalty to Jarl Knut. The women could be heard shrieking in the distance. Without a doubt, they were been sorted to their respective pillager whom to take. The village was yet another of the many villages who was burnt for the sake of the rebellion. The sacks of grain were snatched from the granary as the Nords could easily see where they were hidden.

"My friends, many hours have been spent on murder and death. Do not let this sudden joy detract you from your true purpose! Now, take what you earn, what you need..." Erik yelled as the chaos slowly drifted downwards. Harold cringed as he saw his blood-ridden body riding gallantly with slaves tied to him.  "For the week afterwards, Odin will bless us with their heads! So make haste in your rewards!"

Harold looked upon the dead men and women of the village. He heard many stories from his father of what they did to innocent people whose sin was being at the wrong place. And now, he saw their bodies mangled and laid before him. But never did he anticipate that he will be responsible for them. Harold closed his eyes, futilely imagining that what was happening was not real.  Outside of Agnetha, and Erik occasionally, no other Nords had given him much warmth.

Harold was sure that he sat very far from them, in the woods which were not far from the village. Harold was used to the winters that Agnetha had made. He knew that with the food stolen, the colonialists will slowly starve to madness. He looked upon the man that Harold struck down in his defence. Despite that he merely did it to preserve his soul, Harold was disturbed watching the corpse's cold eyes as if they chastised him for betraying his kin.

"Are you alright?" Harold heard a voice, as he saw the seeress. Harold forgot the dead warrior glaring at him as he saw the seeress' bright blue cloak and flowing golden hair. She quietly sat down as Harold's cheeks blushed at the sight of her.

"It is only a matter of time until they find a reason to kill me," Harold said, nodding to a dead villager. "Any colonial to them is evil in their eyes. And I fear that my presence would only make them more violent. You cannot protect me for long... my lady..."

Agnetha quietly sat down and saw his eyes trembling before her. She knew that months before, he was too proud to consider her as his client. Now, he was ashamed to even look her in the eye. But Agnetha thought otherwise of this man.

"You have made a choice, to follow me," Agnetha said. "And I will protect you in respect of that choice. Do not let them sway you or overturn your decision,"

"And how long would I live either way," Harold said. "Before this, I was thought to be one of them, and nearly lost my life for it. How many more occasions like this until I finally lose my life? How many more until I leave,"

Agnatha saw his face downtrodden, as she gave a soft kiss to Harold's forehead, as the Westerner was awestruck by this simple gesture. Touched, Harold bowed his head as Agnatha suddenly came to his side, with her voice smoothing his ear. "Do you love me? Harold, son of John?"

Harold looked at her, her blue eyes were hard to look at as her beauty overshadowed his mind.  "There is no one else I can love anymore..." Harold said. "I do not know who I can be with..."

"Thus I ask again... do you love me?" Agnatha asked again, as her icy fingers rubbed against Harold's neck, making sure he would see her fair face.

"I love you Agnatha," Harold said, as another kiss Agnatha gave to his cheek. Harold felt his senses removed as all around him faded. With only Agnetha's beautiful face visible to his eyes.