.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

THE
FOOL KING

Year: 878
Location: Eoferwic, Northambria

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。

A month passed in the blink of an eye, each day littered with rumors and duties. The old King Egbert no longer resides in Eoferwic, sent south of the river to a monastery. A shame, many of the Danes calling for the old man's head. He let his Saxons run like wild dogs through Northambria, slaughtering Danish women and children. And yet he lived, sparred for the sake of King Guthred's holy image.

The man was a fool, but like many idiots in positions of power, he was loved. No doubt manipulated by another, listening to the whispered words that fell in his ear. Ragni believed it was Uthred who took advantage of Guthred's stupidity or the flock of monks and holy men that scurried under his robes.

Regardless, Ragni was growing impatient. Three weeks and Uthred had done nothing but send men to gather food and keep watch for Ivarr's return. A return that never came, for he was rumored to be caught in a battle. One between Dane and Scot, a rumor Ragni took to believing for her sanity. In the last week, Guthred sent half the army back to Cumbraland to gather their harvest. With their departure, all that remained was the garrison and household guard.

Amongst the divided groups were Uthred's troublesome two, Clapa, and Rypere. Ragni and Sihtric are bound by oath to stay within the eye-sight of Uthred unless stated otherwise. As for the Thief and Clumsy, they had nothing to harvest in Cumbraland. What they did have no longer existed in the lands rolling hills, and valleys.

Ragni believed that both of them regretted not returning to Cumbraland, harvest to gather or not. They looked miserable during the morning training, and cursed, well into the afternoon when they repaired the falling walls of Eoferwic. Ragni would've cursed herself, if it wasn't for her loathe of complaining. It was mindless tasks, things to keep them from being idle. No doubt it was needed, the garrison looking better as the month drew by, the walls of Eoferwic following.

"They're vile bastards, ya know," Ryphere spoke up, as he handed a stone brick to Clapa.

"Who?" Clapa asked, taking the brick and passing it to the man who stood beside him. The line continued until it reached the wall, where two men mortared and repaired the damages dealt by Ivarr and the elements of Northambria.

"The Scots," Ryphere answered, his tone soured with the final word.

Ragni listened, mirroring Ryphere's picking up and giving of the stones. "You've faced them in battle then, Ryphere?" She knew the thief never fought a Scot, just as he had never seen one.

Ryphere scowled. "I do not need to," he explained, shoving a brick into Clapa's waiting hands. "It's well-known knowledge." He snipped back at Ragni.

"I did not know." Clapa shrugged.

"Well your not one to absorb well-known knowledge," Rypere murmured.

Clapa shrugged in agreement.

"You believe Ivarr will be defeated in battle then?" Ragni asked, curious to hear his response. He had expressed his distaste for Ivarr Ivarsson, and the Scots on more than one occasion. Figuring out which one of the two he hated more was the aim of the question.

Rypere shrugged. "Yes, just like every Dane, Roman and Saxon that has fought them before." He explained, pausing his work to stare at Ragni. "Your father fought them, no?"

"My father was a Jarl in the Danish lands around Mercia," she frowned, pausing to catch her breath. "He fought Saxons, not Scots." She stepped away from the stack of bricks, allowing another soldier to take her spot.

"Ah, yes I forget."

"You did not forget, I just never told you." She mused, stopping to wipe beads of sweat from her brow. It was a warm day, the hottest one so far that year. The fabric of her tunic stuck to her wet skin, blonde hair glued to her neck and cheeks.

Rypere head cocked to the side in thought. "Do you plan on restoring your father's lands? I mean, that is what your lot does. When one dies, another takes their place."

Ragni had not thought about it much, finding it a task best left to her gaggle of cousins. "And if I did? Would you come into my service, Rypere?" She asked, being sure to muster a serious tone.

"Ah," Rypere sighed. "As much as I'd love to be at the service of a beautiful woman, I do not believe I would. After Guthred releases me, I plan on retiring in Cumbraland."

"They have the horses." Ragni agreed, turning to watch the others pile bricks further down the wall.

"No, no," Rypere rambled off, regaining Ragni's attention. "I am done thieving. I'm going to make an honest man out of myself."

His words sent Ragni spinning back around, her eyebrows furrowing together as she peered down at the Saxon. There were only two reasons a thief stopped their antics, and Ragni knew he wasn't missing both his hands. "A woman then?"

"Aefre, she is the daughter of a smith." Rypere smiled, his youthful eyes glowing with mirth. "I dare say she puts you to shame Ragni. Eyes the color of the darkest oak, and hair to match."

"What honest work will you do?" A genuine question. Rypere was no more than seventeen years old, and a thief since he could walk. There was few occupations in this world that required the skills of a thief, and those that did would send him back under the King's thumb if not to the gallows.

"Horses," he shrugged, his nine fingers wiggling with the word. "I'll break them for any man who pays."

Ragni did not see a problem in that, and Odin knew he knew his way around the four-legged beasts. "And Clapa?" She asked, gesturing toward the bear of a man.

"I offered him to come with, but he refused. Believes he is a proper warrior now, due to Uthred's favor of him."

The sound of hooves battering against stone stole Ragni's attention from the conversation, her gaze faltering to those that rode through the stone streets of Eoferwic. It was a few priests and a man by the name of Willibald. Another holy man, of which category Ragni was unsure.

The holy men did not stop, or even look in their direction. They continued through the gates, leaving but a cloud of dust in their wake. A hasty leave, one that brought Ragni's attention back toward Rypere who had followed them with his eyes.

"Where are they going?" He always knew the functions of the Eoferwic, by gossip or by his nosey habits.

"Back to Wessex, they're taking the teeth of Saint Cuthbert to King Alfred."

One of the weirdest things to give a man, but Ragni assumed it had something to do with their holy religion. "A gift or bribe?" She questioned, smiling at the all-knowing thief.

"Both," he sighed. "Alfred has the lot of them by the balls, Uthred included."

A well-known fact, members of the garrison whispering of Uthred's service beneath the King of Wessex. It was how he gained his nickname 'Dane Slayer', killing Danes at the will of King Alfred and his religion. As to how Uthred came into Alfred's service, Ragni did not know. She had asked Rypere, and even he did not know. A true mystery.

"Ragni," Sihtric called out, approaching the two. "Uthred wants to see you." He added once he was closer, giving Rypere a nod of greeting as he spoke.

"Do you know why?" She asked, stepping away from Rypere and closer toward Sihtric.

She had not seen much of Sihtric in the past four days, due to his part in Guthred's gathering party. The small group of men and women disappearing for days at time, coming back with foliaged greens or on rare occasions gutted animals. Guthred made the right move sending his army back for the harvest, if he hadn't they would've starved. But will they return? A matter of debate Rypere and Clapa discussed earlier that evening.

"If I did I would warn you," he frowned. "Do not say anything or do anything that will give him reason to be rid of you."

"I will not, unless it's warranted."

Sihtric gave her a glare and a tight pull of his lips before he began to walk away. He did not say anything, knowing the expression and cut of his eyes would be enough. It was a look she had grown accustomed to over their time together, one that tore her between smiling and cursing. A powerful look, there was no denying it.

"When will you be back?"

"In the morning, we are not going far." He called over his shoulder, before joining a group of mounted men at the city's gate. They spoke briefly before Sihtric mounted his horse. And just like four days ago, he made his way out of the city and into the hills of Northambria.

Turning on her heels, she made her way to the heart of the city. It had grown in the past month, women and children flooding through the gates. Men occasionally volunteering for the garrison, or for the gathering parties. They wanted to help the beloved King Guthred, savior of Eoferwic and its people. A fool, with a jester crown.

Walking into the den of the fool, Ragni was complimented by his presence. Guthred pacing back and forth through the grand hall of the castle, his teeth nipping at the corner of his thumb. He did not stop until he saw Ragni, his thumb falling to reveal a smile. "Ragni Sigurddóttir." he greeted as she drew closer.

"Lord King," she replied, before looking about the room. "Uthred sent for me?"

"Ah yes, he is with Hild. But I assure you, he will be back shortly."

Ragni nodded slowly, taking in the awkward tension that bubbled between herself and the King. "Can I ask you a question?" He edged the awkwardness further, returning the corner of his thumb to his mouth.

"I suppose." She wanted to say 'no', in fact, she wanted to turn around and walk back through those doors. But one could not say 'no' to a King, no matter how badly they wanted to.

"Do you believe I made the right decision with Egbert?" He asked, around his chewing. "Do not be coy, I want your genuine opinion."

Ragni was hesitant at first, her mind bouncing between her truth and what he wanted to hear. But one could not lie to a King, or go against their orders either. "You should've killed him." A genuine answer, to a pointless question. Egbert was already gone, living comfortably in his monetary.

"Huh, Uthred said the same thing." He thought allowed, turning fully toward Ragni. "If I may ask, why do you believe that is a better decision?"

Yes, a Fool King. "Killing him would've stabilized your throne. Letting him live leaves the possibility that he will raise men and come back for his kingdom."

The smile he wore suddenly dropped, his eyes closing in frustration. "If I would've killed him, the people of Eoferwic would paint me a tyrant." He justified, mostly to himself for Ragni did not care. It was not her head under the crown or her problems. "They would fear me, and I do not want to rule with fear. I want them to view me with compassion, and admiration. I want them to love me."

"Love does not keep enemies away from your gates." She couldn't stop talking, her tongue dancing about in her mouth without her permission. "But you've made the right choice, more men have joined your army, and seas of people arrive at Eoferwic every hour." She quickly recovered, regaining possession of her tongue.

Guthred looked appeased with that, his smile returning. "If only Uthred shared your optimism of my choice." He mused, just as Uthred and the nun walked into the hall. Guthred turned toward the pair, waving toward Ragni with a ringed hand. "How could you keep this one hidden from me, Uthred?"

"She is an earsling, Lord King."

The response made Ragni crinkle her nose, her lips pressing firmly against one another. A good reason, as any to defy Sihtric's wishes. Nonetheless, she kept her words to herself, speaking her hate with her eyes. After all, a King was present fool or not.

"And you're a horse's arse, but I keep you in my company." Guthred joked, before turning to Ragni. "We will speak again, I am sure of it." He smiled, before departing.

With the absence of Guthred, both Hild and Uthred looked at one another. "How long were you in Dunholm?" Uthred asked, slowly turning his attention back toward Ragni who stood awkwardly at the center of the room.

"A week or so, I am not quite sure." She answered, keeping things short.

"Did you see another woman there? Red hair, and green eyes?"

Ragni frowned. "I saw no one but the women of Dunholm, none of them having red hair." She furrowed her brows, glancing to Hild. "Why?"

"My sister is held hostage by Kjartan." Uthred answered. "Has been since she was a girl."

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。

INDEX

Earsling ➳ A nickname used in The Saxon Chronicles meaning turd.