Reluctant Berserker: Isaacson Trilogy Book One

Chapter 12

Situated four miles from the center of town and one mile from their parent's home, Gunnar and his brothers' small three-bedroom cabin was a veritable sanctuary.

They'd lived there for the past six years, finding separation to be the best form of protecting their mother's more refined sensibilities from the horror of their work.

The minute he walked through the front door, he went to the mirror in Ulric's room, the only one in their entire home, and forced himself to take a good look at the damage done. At the first glimpse of blood, Gunnar promptly fainted, falling directly on his face and further crushing his broken nose.

Now, Gunnar sat at the small kitchen table, softly illuminated by the lamps of the front room. He propped his head with his right hand, and his left hand held a blood-soaked cloth under his nose. Knowing it would be a wasted effort to try and sleep, he waited for Ulric and Esmund.

Hopefully, they could repair his nose where he had not been successful. The pain had long ago escalated from agony to mind-numbing torture.

There was no doubt what he would have to do to fix it, but he could always hope Ulric would find a way around it. An hour and a half had passed since leaving Nora at the inn when his brothers quietly entered and found him at the table.

It couldn't be as bad as he thought it looked, could it? He searched their faces for any sign that his fears were unfounded and knew by their grim expressions that it was even worse.

Ulric whistled low, removed his torn shirt, and tossed it to the far corner of the front sitting room. "There's something different about you since I last saw you...have you brushed your hair?"

Esmund kicked the door shut and planted his hands on his hips. Clucking his tongue, he walked to Gunnar. "Did Wasp do this? Am I at last vindicated in my loathing of that animal? Shall I get the rifle ready so we can finally put the horrid beast down?"

"Nora did this."

Ulric's eyes widened, "I had no idea she was such a ferocious wench. What did you say to vex her?"

"Nothing, she didn't do it on purpose."

"She did that amount of damage on accident?" Ulric turned to Esmund, "Remind me again how women aren't as dangerous as blood-thirsty murderers?"

Esmund shook his head and straddled the chair to Gunnar's right. He bent close, studying the damage, "What'd she use? Club? Mallet?"

Gunnar grimaced and stared at the table, murmuring his reply.

Laughter erupted from both Ulric and Esmund for two minutes until Ulric wiped tears from his eyes and choked back a giggle.

Taking a deep breath, Gunnar glared at his twin. "Is it crushed?"

"You're asking me?" Ulric scoffed and chuckled.

Gunnar looked at him expectantly.

Ulric looked over at Esmund, "When did I become the doctor?"

"March of last year...it was a Thursday, I believe."

Gunnar forced his jaw to relax. "Can you fix it or not?"

Ulric stretched both arms out with a flourish, flexing his muscles for show, "I can fix anything."

Esmund stood and moved opposite Ulric, placing his hands firmly down on Gunnar's shoulders. Gunnar closed his eyes and braced himself for the torture to commence when Ulric bent and reached toward his face.

Tears poured down his cheeks in unending rivers of agony. Every second under Ulric's ministrations brought him closer to breaking down in pathetic sobs.