Beware of Jezebel

17. Fortune favours the bold

Ivar had told Harald that Benedicta suggested he moves Harald's army several hours' ride away from Lincoln, to make them guard the border in case Alfred decides to approach. Although initially reluctant, Harald thought that Benedicta did this to make their rendez-vous more secure, while telling Ivar it was purely for strategic reasons. That was why Benedicta was currently leaning on horse's neck and holding on for dear life, as the animal galloped through the fields, Benedicta guiding it down the paths only she knew. Her fear of riding had to be put away since the plan required it.

Summer weather allowed soldiers to stay in tents, and wide top of King's tent stood out in the camp. A soldier took Benedicta's horse and she entered the king's quarters. Harald was sitting on his bed, and wine and fruits resting on the table showed that he was eagerly waiting for her. Benedicta threw her wind-tousled hair back and raked her fingers through, looking the man in the eyes, while he smiled sweetly in return. She knew vikings were ruthless murderers, but from experience she could tell they could be very charming- nothing warmed her the way Ivar's smile did, and Harald was alluring in his own way.

"You were rushing to see me," said Harald, letting his gaze linger on Benedicta's dress. She had picked a very unusual, pastel pink one, adorned with layers and layers of intricate lace. Ivar liked when she wore saturated colours, but Benedicta found that a lot of men tended to let their guard down when seeing women dressed in light shades.

Although Harald waved her to sit beside him, Benedicta settled on a bench: it was too early to move close to him. "Now that you have me here, what is your exact proposal, and what plan do you have?" She asked.

"Always straight to the business. All right," said Harald and walked from the bed to sit next to Benedicta. "It is simple: I like you and I want to take Kattegat. You may not like me yet, but I've lived long enough to discern ambitious people from others," he said and put a strand of hair behind her ear. "You want more, and I shall give you that."

Benedicta decided not to turn to him just yet and crossed her arms on her chest instead. Harald tried to hand her a horn of wine, but when Benedicta didn't react, he caressed her thigh instead. "Don't forget, that kingdom isn't the only thing I can offer," he added, sliding his large hand higher up her leg and to her abdomen. His entire body shifted closer to her and Benedicta was beginning to feel hot. "You, out of all the people know the best that the cripple is "boneless" not just in his legs, isn't he? I can give you children, and keep you very happy all the time, despite my age."

Of course, the sexual prowess, that's what a man will always boast about, Benedicta thought and did her best not to sneer. And who cares what I want. She smiled instead and arched her back. "I'll admit, I've been wondering if people where telling truth about you," she spoke sultrily, encouraging Harald to sneak another arm around her waist. Now she could feel his warm breath and tickle of his beard on her cheek, making hairs on the back on her neck stand up.

As Harald continued stroking her more boldly, Benedicta decided enough time had passed and jumped from the bench. "I want to go outside, it's stuffy in here and reeks of men," she said and briskly strode out of the tent, not looking back to check if Harald was following. She knew he would. Very confused, the man called her back, but Benedicta didn't stop, and Harald clumsily followed her, tripping in the dark occasionally. When they walked out of the camp, wandered into the forest and finally reached a clearing by the river that Benedicta was looking for, she perched herself on a large stone and asked Harald to sit next to her. The man's breathing was uneven and his chest heaved from chasing after her.

"I'm starting to worry that I'm too old for you," he joked and coughed loudly. Benedicta patted his shoulder with one arm, unsheathing a dagger from her dress with another. It was a beautiful weapon, one of a few that Ecbert had once received from Baghdad. The dagger received ridicule from Ivar, for it served more as a decoration, rather than a weapon- it was encrusted with precious stones and had a very short blade, not suitable for any fight, except for silent attack.