Curse Of Blood: Gods & Monsters

Chapter VII - Harald

The practice yard was no more than a well-worn area some small distance from the outskirts of the village proper where the bite of iron and clamor of war drills would be assimilated by the meadow grass and trees that encompassed the field. Harald had thought to vent his frustration by sharpening his axe against his brother's shield, if not the man's thick skull. He needed this outlet more so now than ever before.

Ragnarr feinted right, barely avoiding the downward arc of Harald's two-handed axe and, with his shield, only just managed to deflect his older brother's powerful blow, the axe glancing harmlessly off the shield boss. Whilst Harald's axe lay buried in the hard-packed earth, he parried Ragnarr's offensive strike with the sword in his left hand, easily blocking the younger man's spear from impaling his leg.

"So you wish to make me lame, eh?" Harald jeered. "You will need to move a lot faster than an old woman, Ragnarr!"

"Aye, my spear is hungry! But I fear you are not providing the sport it craves, old man!"

Once Harald had freed his long axe from the dirt, he ducked, lunging his sword up defensively as Ragnarr swung the edge of his shield towards his brother's neck. But Ragnarr was quick to recover himself, his feet wide and his shield raised, so that he was prepared when Harald tried to hook the horn of his axe around the inside of Ragnarr's round shield and pull it from the younger man.

Failing that, Harald bared his teeth and threw his sword to the side as he leapt at his brother, diving swiftly under Ragnarr's shield to wrap his burly arms about the other man's waist. They grappled for what seemed an age, the two men well matched despite the advantage of Harald's larger frame. At one point he became distracted, by all that plagued his mind, and allowed Ragnarr to evade him, the other man side-stepping agilely and whacking the chieftain soundly across the rump as the larger man flew into the dirt. It was a brash stratagem meant to provoke as much as insult his already inflamed opponent.

"Come now, Brother, stop playing with me!" Ragnarr teased him. "Where is your focus?! You have, heretofore, never allowed me to last this long!" He then boldly threw his own weapons to the ground and gestured for his brother to try again, crooking his fingers tauntingly.

Harald roared his fury and, this time, hurtled himself viciously into his brother, ere the sound of cracking ribs and heavy grunts blared through the practice field, gaining the attention of all the other participants exercising in the field.

"Odin's teeth! Get off you, brute!" Ragnarr gasped painfully as he lay sprawled in the dust. "What has got into you!"

Harald wiped the blood from his lips, shrugging his shoulders testily, and helped the younger man roughly to his feet. When Ragnarr finally stood, if somewhat doubled over and clutching at his ribs, he directed his fulminating glare at Harald.

"Has your wife barred you from her bed?! What could possibly put you into such a foul temper, Brother!"

"That is just it," Harald growled, "she has done no such thing; and yet her belly remains barren!" He kicked a stone angrily from his path, which almost hit his brother, and stormed passed Ragnarr as he headed for the woods. "'Twould seem I am cursed!"

Ragnarr called after him, but he ignored his brother except to shout for him go see old Elfa for a poultice. As he wandered south he saw very little of the beauty and appreciated none of the color infusing his homeland. Without knowing wherefore, and sans any purpose except the pursuit of peace, his feet carried him thence to the Great Red Forest while his mind drifted and his humor soured.

It had been weeks since his return; winter was already once again closing in, though the sun was still warm and the land yet verdant. It galled him to watch the new slave's waist thickening each day, but that his wife's should remain narrow both enraged and disheartened him. What had he done to anger the gods?! To what purpose had they forsaken him! He was an aggressive and efficient fighter, the best of the berserker warriors, and he was never without victory; had never failed, but for this one purpose — to beget an heir. Wherefore was he cursed!