For The Sake of Revenge

III~Chapter 6: The Actions of Men

Ivar spent the afternoon in the shed, with his brothers. It wasn't a livestock shed, or anything of the sort. It was a special shed, away from the rest of society, for the sole purpose of obtaining intelligence. Ivar had his many flaws. His character came up short at every turn. His progressiveness was a double edged sword. His morals, even by the standards of his own people were unusual and questionable. But one could not deny that it was his character flaws that kept their bellies full and their lives in tact.

Kindness and gentility yeilded nothing but the opportunity for the bigger predator to slash.

Ivar was cleaning and sharpening all the tools that he used to torture his captives of war, the spies that were silly enough to get caught, and those who betrayed him. Yasmeen would never set foot in this place. She would never know about it. She would never even come close to it's radius. Ivar intended to keep it that way.

"I hate this fucking room," Ubbe said, wiping down the table. No one was allowed in this shed but the brothers. They are the ones who cleaned it and sharpened the instruments. A threat had been laid against the House of Munsö. All the brothers gathered. "No matter how many times we clean it, it always reeks of shit."

"What, brother?" Sigurd smirked. "Have you a weak stomach for this, after so long?"

"You and Ivar are much more alike then you would care to admit," Hvitserk muttered wiping down the walls. It was always cleaned before and after a torture session.

"Don't be insulting," Ivar mutteed under his breath, sneering at Sigurd's glacial look.

"Girma sent raven this morning. They have capture three raiders and bring them now," Ivar reported, not looking up from his task. Unlike Ubbe, he actually enjoyed this task. This room was where he was always in total control, where all the variables fell into place and he extracted information. It was where he was never judged for his unmunificent nature by those who did not carry the weight of his duty on their shoulders.

"Three?" Ubbe raised his eyebrows. "What productive men you keep. You sent for one, they return with three."

Ivar said nothing to that effect. "Where is Floki?"

"He will not come today, Helga has given birth," Sigurd said.

Ivar blinked. He'd almost forgotten that Helga had been pregnant. She hadn't started showing until a few weeks before now and it had confused Ivar as to whether or not she was in her early stages. "Then I must send them my felicitations."

"Yasmeen has done her part, Uthred tells me," Hvitserk said. "She walked down to Helga's cottage this morning with basket of good foods and items for the little one."

She had a knack for these things, his wife. Always inquiring and giving simple gifts and acts of service to the people, as a way of compensating for her lack of pedigree into Viking blood. Ivar allowed it, it kept his woman busy and it was maintenance work for loyalty outside of feasts and events. Besides, no one dared touch the wife of Ivar Ragnarsson. "Then I will come down once we have finished. You will all come with me."

Still, it made the blood in his veins turn to ice to know that Yasmeen was alone in a house with Floki. Floki hated outsiders. He kept his dislike for Yasmeen to himself. But Ivar knew that Floki had an intense dislike for her, not for the merit of her character, but for the merit of the blood she carried; un-viking. But Floki swore fealty to Ragnar's trueborn sons. Ivar trusted that he would never harm Yasmeen. He forced himself to relax.

When their task was completed, they locked up the shed, reinforcing the steel parameters and and continuing to the outskirts of the village, at the treeline where Floki's cottage was. There they found Floki, chopping wood. He saw them but did not make to greet them. Ivar didn't expect him to. Still, it set his teeth on edge. He didn't see Yasmeen anywhere.