Beware of Jezebel

3. Even more Christians

            Another battle was over, and this time, King Aethelwulf lost York. Mary wasn't sure how the battle proceeded exactly, since she was charged to look after Ivar's belongings and had to leave the city with some vikings, to make it look abandoned. Later, she only heard that Ivar used sewers for surprise attack, and soon, king Aethelwulf, his sons Aethelred and Alfred retreated out of the town with their remaining men.

When Mary returned to York, the Vikings were already scurrying around, reinforcing the city once again. She had just returned from the tent of injured and was about to do some washing up, when a solder told her Ivar wanted to see her. She was led to some alcove, probably used for horses and was shocked to see a man chained by the neck, and Ivar was sitting next to him.

"Ahh, sister Mary! I thought you might want to see someone," Ivar gestured to the man. "Bishop Heahmund, you said you can show me the true way. Well, I already have someone who could do that, but here I am, still a heathen. Come on, Mary, come closer," Ivar curled his fingers, inviting Mary. She approached bishop carefully. He didn't look injured, just very tired and frustrated. She also vaguely recognised him, but didn't want to risk him recognising her. It was better to remain a boring nun, rather than pique Ivar's interest. Bishop's eyes, however, locked upon her and scrutinised her face closely, but it might only be because he was surprised to see a nun. She crossed her arms.

"Benedictine?" He asked. Mary nodded.

"Right now, a slave," she added.

"You seem to be favored by your master."

Hidden meaning behind Heahmund's words was clear. You aren't chained like me, because you sleep with him. Mary pressed her arms tighter and chuckled dryly. She knew of his adventures, many people did. He was a devoted man, but didn't hesitate to blame her of sins he commits himself.

"Remember your vows, bishop. I hold mine," she said and left without another word, leaving Ivar quite stunned.

Later that day, for the first time since Mary had started serving him, Ivar finaly asked for assistance in bathing, probably because of the wound on his leg. Mary felt unease at being so close to a man, but reminded herself that in this situation Ivar was her patient, not her captor and maintained her composure.

"I was surprised, to be honest, that you didn't jump on your bishop's neck. I though you will be excited to see a priest. Especially because he's so strong-willed about his beliefs. He knew I could kill him, yet he still called the Gods false. Just like you did," said Ivar, while Mary scrubbed dirt from his fingers.

She had pulled her habit sleeves up, but left white shirt low on her forearms, even though she knew they will soak. When Mary moved to Ivar's shoulder, he watched the little droplets drip from the cuff one after another.

"The bishop is known as a good warior and a true believer of our Lord," she said and lathered more soap on a rag, "but he is also a, shall I say, womaniser. No man is safe from sin, but today he accused me of being promiscuous, though I never blamed him."

"Is a man's desire so awful?"

"I have met many people who suffered worse, and yet never allowed their vices to get a hold of them."

Ivar smirked, his eyes glinting cruely. "Always about your sins. Are you really so innocent? Mhm?" He tilted his mockingly to look at her. "Sister Mary, the reluctant caregiver. I must say, I didn't expect a devoted Christian like yourself to be so comfortable around a heathen like me."

Mary didn't falter. She dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out. "I believe that compassion and care know no faith. It is my duty to tend to your needs, regardless of our differences."