Beware of Jezebel

16. Ad majora natus sum

Benedicta stood in the courtyard and waited impatiently for Father Cynebert to step from his carriage. The man had finally gathered long hems of his alb, then took off his hat, wiped sweat off of his forehead and put the hat on again and only then he reached Benedicta.

"Father Cynebert, welcome, welcome!" She greeted the man warmly and led him into the castle. "Your efforts are greatly appreciated, father. My court is always open for servants of our God. I know you can enlighten the clueless Vikings. Preaching is part of our mission, isn't it?" Benedicta rambled as bishop glanced uneasily at every door and nook and mumbled in pretend agreement.

Benedicta led him to a wide hallway where Hvitserk stood, looking just as uncomfortable as he was in church.

"Well, you two have already met. Hvitserk- father Cynebert, father- my brother-in-law," Benedicta waved between the two men awkwardly. As the silence stretched, she cleared her throat. "I will show you to the library, where you won't be interrupted."

Suddenly, the familiar thumping and clattering of metal crutches echoed through the stillness. Ivar limped in from the main hall already having schooled his face into the crazy, blood-thirsty grimace the bishop was all too familiar with. Regardless, he attempted to remain brave and didn't cover, knowing Benedicta had his back. Ivar looked the bishop head to toe and slowly licked his teeth.

"At least this time I know your name," Ivar snickered, his tone mocking.

"Reconciliation is godly, and would be appreciated, brother," Cynebert said, his voice trembling and oddly high-pitched.

"Don't 'brother' me!" Ivar growled suddenly and bishop jumped in fright, but recovered quickly.

Growing bolder, he clasped his hands in prayer, throwing his head back in an exaggerated motion and lifting his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh Lord, Father forgiving!" he exclaimed theatrically. "So many lost souls in this home."

"I will show you who's lost-" Ivar hissed.

"Hands off your axe!" Benedicta exclaimed and the bishop, just now seeing Ivar grab his axe and suddenly feeling his life being threatened, toned down his theatrics.

"Careful, Father, or I just might finish what I started in York," Ivar taunted, savoring the fear in the bishop's eyes. "I'll see Bjorn now," he added to Benedicta, walking out.

Benedicta, offering an apologetic smile, remarked, "You can't make a Christian out of that one. Well, follow me."

***

Despite Benedicta repeatedly assuring father Cynebert that no harm will be done to him by Vikings in Mercia and that Ivar just likes to taunt him, but won't actually kill, the priest was still reluctant to remain in the castle longer than necessary and almost ran to his carriage. Meanwhile, Benedicta went to the garden, which became Ivar's favorite spot not only for relaxation and to play chess, but also to hold meetings and work. She called Ivar's name when she spotted him and Bjorn talking.

"The bishop has finished his lesson with Hvitserk. I'm going to accompany him to the cemetery to visit Aethelred's grave. He's not buried in our church," said Benedicta and Ivar furrowed his brows at her flat tone.

"Aethelred isn't buried in Wessex?" he asked.

"No, the nobles arranged for him to be laid to rest here, in my honor."

Ivar nodded, then grabbed his crutches. "Well, I'm coming too. I want to see my lands."

The trip in the carriage was tense and awkward, and while Benedicta, Father Cynebert, and Ivar walked through the graveyard, the bishop cautiously kept a decent distance from Ivar by walking on Benedicta's side and two good steps away.