Beware of Jezebel

15. Cave canem!

The setting sun had painted the royal chambers in gold, including Ivar, whom Benedicta found sitting behind a desk and flipping through a stack of parchment. Without looking up, he grumbled, "I hate that I can't read—I have to trust your Saxons to translate. At least I had half a mind to improve my English with you."

Smirking, Benedicta perched herself on the desk and held up an apple. "Would you like an apple?"

"No," Ivar replied curtly.

"And if I slice it for you?" she teased.

Ivar paused, and a corner of his lip pulled up. "Yes."

While feeding Ivar apple slices, Benedicta decided to return to an old topic. "Have you considered if a peaceful conceding of power in Kattegat is possible? Must Bjorn die?"

"He will not stop," Ivar said tiredly, as if already bored by the conversation. "And I will kill Lagertha, so either way, he will try to kill me."

Benedicta slid another piece of apple into Ivar's mouth. "Bjorn is not a great strategist, but he's decent, and an embodiment of a true Viking. He is not fit to be a king. But he can be useful. I only wonder what use he imagines for himself."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can make a good enough offer to him to end the inheritance war, and Bjorn will be of great use to me," she said.

Ivar rolled his head back to look at the woman in front of him and studied her for a long time. The sun had dipped lower, and now there was more red than gold. Her head was still shining, reflecting the rays in all directions, but her face and open chest was already drowned in red. Her eyes were black in dim light, and her posture remained straight. He admired how she never crouched, not even when she was a nun.

"Will you stop him from killing me?" he asked.

"Yes."

Ivar's stretched his arm out and gripping her thigh, pulled her close. His piercing eyes locked onto her bottomless ones. "Then give it a try."

***

The following morning Ivar woke to the rustle of fabric and sounds of someone moving about the chamber. Blinking away sleep, he saw Benedicta already dressed and walking towards the door. Confused, his gaze followed her, and he could sense his agitation grow. The thought of Benedicta leaving him alone among Saxons in the court made him uncomfortable.

"Where are you going?" he asked, and almost winced at how whiny his voice sounded.

"I am going to church. You don't have to go. But I am Christian, if you forgot, I always have been. I have not been to mass for almost two years. I attended your feasts, but couldn't celebrate Christmas, Easter, the Assumption... I am going. I must show myself to my nobles," Benedicta replied coldly. "And I will ask Hvitserk to come along. If negotiation with Bjorn is successful, I will not leave him, his army and Mercian nobles unsupervised. I was thinking of making one of your brothers into an ambactus, and making them watch over Mercia permanently, when we return to Kattegat. Hvitserk is already here with Tora- he'll be more pliable."

Left alone in the chamber, Ivar scowled. He pulled the silk blankets higher on his body, despite the summer heat, feeling nowhere as assured as he was on the battlefield.

Outside the castle, Benedicta spotted Hvitserk and waved him over, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "Back in Kattegat, you wanted to know more about Christianity, didn't you?"

Hvitserk nodded. "I did."

"Join me for mass, then."

Hvitserk hesitated for a moment. "Can I?"