Chapter 37: All Because of War

Jezebel walked peacefully throughout the camp, returning from cleaning in the water. She smiled as she passed by warriors sharpening their weapons and eating, while an uneasy feeling grew in the pit of her stomach.

"My lady!" Lorna called from the corner of a tent, gaining Jezebel's attention.

Jezebel approached her reluctantly and confused. "Yes, child?" She questioned with concern.

Lorna looked around her in confusion. "Where is your son at?" She worriedly questioned, looking around once more. "Is he not with you?"

"No." Jezebel held a blank stare and shook her head. "He is being watched with the other children." She replied, rolling her eyes. "Why do you ask?"

Lorna's face dropped quickly into fear, closing her eyes. "Because Bard went into the tent with the other children." She informed opening her eyes widely. "He sent all of the children out..." Her trembling voice trailed off. "Except yours. I did not see him come out for several minutes."

Jezebel's eyes grew large, as her breathing intensified. She took off in a sprint toward the empty tent, hoping her thoughts were not true. Hurriedly, she pulled back the flap and saw the small child laying on the ground lifeless.

"My Baby!" Jezebel screamed, rushing into the dimly lit tent to the side of her motionless child and took it's small body into her trembling arms. "Wake up, darling. Please." She lightly brushed his cheek and placed soft kisses upon his face.

She held it close to her chest and stroked it's tiny, blue cheek with her finger. Tears welled in her stunned eyes as she began to rock back and forth, humming a Germanic tune into the child's ear. Her mouth dropped open uncontrollably while a loud, painful cry echoed through the camp.

"What has happened!?" Erick questioned, rushing to their side, wrapping his large arms around them both. Tears began to fall freely from his eyes, holding them tighter and letting out a groan. An audience formed around the tent as the heartbroken moans sounded from the tent.

Jezebel and Erick remained inside the tent, mourning the loss of the child throughout the night.

The morning light pierced Jezebel's drooping eyes, causing a stream of water to run from the edge. She glanced down once again at the child she held in her stiff arms. She forced her eyes to shut in disbelief. Erick slept on the ground beside them, sword in hand.

The evening appeared to them like a dream--a dream that never ends. Jezebel felt her heart breaking with the thought of her murdered child.

"Erick." Jezebel's voice trembled, shaking Erick awake. He hastily sat upright, drawing his sword up to attention.

"What is it?" Erick concereningly asked, averting his eyes away from Jezebel and the child. "Do you know who did this?"

Jezebel nodded, placing the child down beside her and approaching Erick's side. "I do believe it wad your son," she bit her bottom lip reluctantly. "Bard."

Erick burned with fury, slamming the sword aggressively onto the ground nearby. "I will kill him!" he shouted, jumping up from where he sat.

Jezebel watched him as he fled the room before she could argue. Erick focused sternly as he walked down to the water's edge, passing by resting warriors while thinking of ways to get the truth from Bard and ways to execute him for it.

The camps were filled with white, draping tents which held several people. Just outside each tent were small fires blazing with kettles boiling over them. Beside the water, Knute and Bard sat on the shore in complete silence staring into the distance at their ships.

"Bard," Erick's voice boomed, startling both men. "May I speak with you?"

Bard slyly laughed, rolling his head to the side. "I do not know, father, I am not sure if I want to hear what you have to say." He replied bluntly, leaning back on one elbow. "Does it concern anything that I care about?"

Erick glared back at him, burning with anger. "We speculate that Astrid's husband is dead." He ad-libbed, pausing to take a breath. "If so, she will be devastated and we think that it will enrage her to do the unthinkable."

Bard began to laugh hysterically, plopping forcefully onto his back. "I made sure that I killed the man! I want her to go mad, just I have!" He looked up at the cloudless sky. "How is your wife? I know she is taking the death of the poor child hard! I seen her weeping last night!" He paused, rolling onto his side. "Did you ever find who killed him?" He raised his brow, smirking. "And why?"

Erick looked at the ground and shook his head. "No," he glance at Bard. "But would you happen to know anything?"

Bard shrugged, popping his lip outward. "No, father, I do not. Perhaps you should not take the word of lying whores." he rudely suggested, rising and dusting himself off. "But then I remember that you only trust whores. That is your loss." He smirked once again and patted Erick on the chest. "I shall see you later, father."

Erick dropped his head as he let himself calm down. His heart raced with anger while his face grew blood red.

¤§¤

Astrid sharpened her sword as she watched Deman sleep. Her main focus was on killing Bard, and whoever else got in her way while doing so. A shadow moved against the wall, startling Astrid for a moment. Cautiously, she moved toward the balcony door, standing on guard beside the opening. Quickly, she jumped outside with her sword clinched in her hand.

"Please do not hurt me!" Camilla cried, shielding her hands in front of her. She inched back against the rail. "Forgive me, my lady, I did not mean to interrupt you."

Astrid inserted her sword into a sheath tied around her waist. "Oh, stop that Camilla." She bluntly stated, stepping close to Camilla. "What are you doing out here?"

"I am watching out for the king." Camilla meekly replied, peering inside the cracked door. "We fear that the enemy will attack while he is alone-"

"And what would you do? Beat him with a loaf of bread?" Astrid sarcastically questioned, shaking her head. "Camilla, you are not the brave guardian type."

Camilla hung her head and began wringing her hands. "I suppose you are right, my lady." She spoke gently, glancing out across the land. "A group of your soldiers were looking for you earlier in the great hall. I suppose they are still needing to see you."

Astrid agreed and left without another word as Camilla entered into the silent room, sitting on the seat at Deman's bedside. She studied him and his healing wounds.

"I see how Astrid is growing weaker because of me." Deman hoarsely whispered, rolling onto his side. Camilla stared down at him surprised. "I want you to tell Erika that I am dead and then explain to her that I am not actually dead, but protecting my kingdom." He spoke, taking Camilla by the hand. "I trust that you will get this word to them, and make sure that Astrid hears just before she goes into battle. I want her to have a rage inside of her. The rage that she is slowly losing by sitting with me everyday."

Camilla stared at him with wide, confused eyes and nodded. "Yes, sire, I shall tell them." She agreed, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Won't news such as that only break her heart even more?"

Deman thought silently to himself for a moment. "Tell her that the Northmen are the reason of my death." He suggested with a smile. "That will make the hate she has for them ignite like a fire."

"And where will you go?" Camilla questioned in doubt. "You cannot stay here, they will find you." She pressed her lips together, letting out a deep breath. "And you cannot traipse throughout the village either."

Deman looked around in thought. "I will stay in the cellar until the battles are over, then I shall come out."

"You are not in the shape -"

"I do not care what shape I am in." Deman snapped, pressing his forefinger against temple. "You are lucky I am not arguing to go and fight with my men! If I was not bedridden then I would! Do you know how horrible it makes me feel that I cannot fight with them?" He shook his head and closed his eyes. "I would have rather died in battle that die in bed like this."

Camilla nodded. "I know, sire. But our kingdom needs it's King. Your people need you."

Deman's eyes popped open widely. "That is why you will deliver that message. Astrid will lead you to victory."

Camilla rose from the bedside and strolled toward the door. "Do not worry, sire. I will take of it." She affirmed before leaving the room.

¤§¤

Knute watched the fire crackle beside him, observing each calm flicker of light as it blazed in the pitch black darkness. He glanced across at the dim reflection on Lorna's face, who sat on a stump in utter silence. Misery was written upon her face while she stared blankly into space. Knute felt pity for her saddened soul.

"You could run now and no one would ever know." Knute softly spoke, laying a tiny stick on the fire. "But if you wait long enough, you shall soon be free."

Lorna glared at him, piercing him with cold eyes. "I should not be here!" She scowled aggressively, twisting her wrists that were tightly tied together. "You used me to get to them! Now look at what you have done! My uncle is dead because of you."

Knute huffed, shaking his head annoyed. "You do not know that he is dead. None of us know that. I just know that the injures that he sustained were very-"

"Bad." Lorna finished, bobbing her head as tears glazed her eyes. "I should be dead instead of him. He did not deserve death. He was far to great of a man and I betrayed him." She sighed, rubbing her blood-covered wrists. "Now I know what betrayal feels like and now I regret my decisions, but I cannot go back because it is far too late."

Knute stared at her intensely, watching carefully every move she made before inching his way toward her. He rested his hand on her wrists and slowly began untying them. "I watched Astrid suffer with the same battles you are facing, and I cannot bear to see you go down the same road she went down." He pressed his hand against her cheek, wiping away her tears. "It will turn you cold."

Lorna smile at him, rubbing her sore, tender wrists. She glanced up at the night sky, then at Jezebel who sat beside the water's edge. "Thank you." She kindly spoke, squeezing his hand. "You are not like the others, you are kind and caring. How is Jezebel?"

Knute glanced over at Jezebel who remained on the shore staring blankly into the distance. "I suppose as good any mother can be who has lost a child." He sighed, spinning his arm band. "She has no one now, and now is when she needs them the most. I can only imagine the pain she is dealing with."

Lorna rested her blood covered hands over her growing stomach. She glanced down at the small bump and agreeably nodded, rising from where she sat. "I believe I shall speak with her." She spoke softly, moving away from Knute. "I think I can help her."

Knute watched Lorna as she sat down beside Jezebel. Lorna stared at her sunken face that was illuminated by the moon's glow. She sniffled her nose, closing her eyes momentarily.

"Sometimes I wonder why I am here." Jezebel mumbled into the silence, nervously rubbing the backs of her folded arms. "I think about what I should be and what I should have been. That is when I wonder if there is an almighty power there to pull me through," she paused, resting her hands on her lap. "Then I realize that there was never anything there to begin with. There was nothing there to help me. Lucifer tempted me into his labyrinth and I cannot escape," she quickly sighed. "And now the only light in my life has gone and I am in total darkness."

"There should be no more talk of darkness." Lorna reassured her, taking Jezebel's hand and placing it onto her stomach. "A child grows in my belly." She softly stated, smiling at Jezebel. "I do not want this child, nor do I need it. But I can see the need you have in your life and when it is born, it will be yours." Lorna nodded, taking a deep breath. "Your battle is not over yet, Jezebel. Bard took your child from you and he took my uncle's life from him. Now he must pay for what he has done to us all."

Jezebel forced a smile to form at the corner of her lips, pressing her hand against Lorna's cheek. "I want to see him dead, just how my child was!"

Lorna nodded, pursing her lips slyly. "Then you shall." She spoke proudly. "I will see to it!"

¤§¤

Astrid sat silently upon her throne, staring blankly at her reflection in a cup of water. Nervously, she bit her lip in hopes that the new battle plans would work the way they should. She glanced up once she heard dull footsteps approaching her. Erika stood before her suited up for battle.

"It is time to leave, Astrid." Erika calmly stated, tugging at the bottom of her tight leather armor. "The rest of the men are waiting on us." She finished, brushing off her shoulders.

Astrid smiled with a nod, closing her eyes tightly. "I do not know if I can do this." She wiped her sweaty, trembling hands on the back of her trousers. "I am nerv-"

"He is dead." Erika boldly blurted, staring deeply into Astrid's confused eyes.

Astrid reluctantly shook her head. "What!? Who is dead?" She gasped as her breaths grew heavy. Erika dropped her head, biting her bottom lip. "Erika?" Astrid hoarsely mumbled, rising from her throne.

Erika glanced up, staring around the room. "Your husband..." She paused, letting out a deep sigh. "Your husband is dead."

Astrid's eyes grew wide while she took baby steps toward Erika. She shook her head violently in denial before dropping to the ground. Her mouth gaped open, without a sound being made.

"Tell me it is not true!" Astrid cried, holding herself just below her breast. "Erika! Please, it cannot be so! He was alive moments ago, for I saw him!"

Erika shrugged and rushed to her side, falling to the ground beside her and taking her into a tender embrace. "Those men down below are the cause of your husband's death. You can either stand and fight against them, or you can let your kingdom die today! It is solely your choice. I will be going down there in a matter of minutes to fight with my men."

Astrid shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. "I must see his body before I leave." She meekly mumbled, wiping her watery, red eyes. "I want to see him!" She shouted loudly, her words echoing throughout the empty hall.

Erika shook her head once again, resting her hand on Astrid's cheek. "I am sorry, Astrid, I cannot let you."

Astrid smacked her trembling hand against the cold stone floor. "I must see his body. I need to know that he is truly dead before I can fight."

"I cannot let you, not at this moment." Erika replied, brushing Astrid's hair back. "Right now you must focus on the Northmen, they are the cause for your husbands death."

Astrid breathed heavily, focusing on a spot on the floor. She pushed herself up, standing to attention. "I want to see his heart on a plate." She pushed the hair away from her face. "I will place it there myself!"

Astrid clinched her hand into a tight fist, taking her sword in the opposite hand. "Let us go and let us fight!" she cheered aloud.

The words rang through Erika's ears, while a pleased smile crept upon her face.

"And let us win!" Erika added, raising her sword.

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