Bear & Cub Chapter V: Across the Waves of Hatred

And everything nice

The servants of the goddess Senuna were to make their way into the hallway to find the corpse of Sarah, and were to freeze one and all. The men who were not men, had been raised all of their lives under the dominance of the lady Senuna and her Nereids, and were thus void of the courage that was so natural to those such as Glædwine and Hroðgar. They were not alone in this regard, as the women were of no less a cowardly disposition and scarcely of the same calibre as the likes of Sarah so that Sigewulf found himself full of scorn for them also. It was a disgrace he thought to himself, truly it was. How could they claim to be the most stalwart and loyal of Senuna’s supporters if they feared blood as they did? Even as a child, though he had felt much the same way when his siblings were murdered, Sigewulf now found himself mostly unmoved by the sight of it.

What was more was that he had little in the way of affection for Sarah, whom had abused and sought to murder his father. Though, he did not know for certain how it had happened that his father had come to be a boar, he knew that the man’s life had been in danger.

None offered the slightest resistance when Sigewulf and Eadburht burst passed them, so intent were the servants upon the corpse. Bursting pass them, led by Hroðgar who charged not in the direction of the goddess but in the direction of the entrance to the palace, or so Sigewulf assumed. Not quite familiar with all the labyrinthine passages of the palace they wove past one hallway after another, first going down one path that seemed to lead back to the mead-hall, only to twist down a leftward corridor. After a few minutes of racing forward, they were to twist down a rightward one, then another left and then another right, then right again then straight so that the children soon became utterly dizzied.

When at least they burst outside, after a short flight of seven stairs it was with a surge of shock that Sigewulf saw his father race forward on all four legs leaving him behind, whilst he and Eadburht gaped. It had been so long since they had properly seen the light of the twin suns’ that they could not help but stall if momentarily.

The sad truth was that, just as they prepared to race after Hroðgar a pair of arms enveloped both of them in steely grips that neither of them could quite escape from.

“And where in the name of her Grace the Lady Senuna do thou intend to flee to in such a hurry?” A sing song voice hissed, the voice being one that Sigewulf recognized at once as that of the Lady Lladriana, one of Senuna’s favourites.

A buxom maiden who appeared no older than twenty summers old, she was blond of hair and had wild blue eyes, with glistening skin, full lips and was often dressed in the same Romalian style that Senuna favoured herself. Her long mane of hair was tied in a series of braids that went down the length of her smooth back, with Sigewulf having only ever seen her in passing at a distance. Up close as he was to discover, she was far more beautiful than she had ever seemed before.

“Let us go! Release us at once!” Eadburht squealed struggling against the arms of the Lady Aven who had caught him up also, herself another beauteous Nereid, except she had blue hair and dark eyes that flashed with a hint of madness.

“Now why would we do such a thing? Especially since it might be best to feed the two to our cousins the sirens?” Aven asked of them with a short shrill laugh that made Sigewulf’s stomach plummet to the ground.

Lladriana herself was visibly annoyed at this suggestion and was to answer in a harsh voice, “Now, now Aven we have already discussed this before, we shan’t have them fed to the seas and our cousins.”

The second Nereid was visibly discontented by this statement, glancing at her fellow Nymph with a moue of displeasure. Neither child could quite understand why it was that they could not struggle free, much to the amusement of their new captors.

Recalling many of the lessons that his father had taught him, Sigewulf with a glance to his own captor was to try to swing his head back which the lady avoided with ease. This was a feint however, not that she could have possibly known this so inexperienced was she in the seizing of others and violence. Sticking out his elbow that he might knock the air, from the woman’s lungs so that in spite of her greater strength than most mortal ladies was nonetheless forced from her. Stricken, Lladriana released him instinctively at which time Sigewulf regained his feet, hardly waiting for the Nymph to recover he twisted about that he might throw himself against the surprised Aven.

Petite though nowhere near as much so as Lladriana, who was almost a foot shorter than she, Aven had little in the way to fight off Sigewulf half so well as she might otherwise have believed herself capable of doing. Thrown from her feet, by the large boy she was to struggle to push him away as he struck her over and over, as swift and fiercely as he could.

Seizing him once more, now that she was fully recovered from his blow to her side, Lladriana struggled to pull him from above Aven and to hold him back.

Struggling as best he could, Sigewulf turned to shout at Eadburht, “Eadburht! Fly! Fly whither after father!”

Eadburht had no need to be told a third time. Regaining his feet faster than either Nereid could have, he was to hurry from the top of the mountain down the path, and along the large stone bridge that led to the great palace of Senuna. Fast as lightning he flew to the surprise and anger of the pair of goddesses who were to exchange displeased looks.

Seizing Sigewulf they might well have thrown him over the side of the cliff, if only out of petty vengeance against him, for having struck them as he had. Neither of the women though made it very far before Senuna regained control of herself.

“Wait,” She said to her cousin, “Whither are thou taking him?”

“To the Sarvanian Rock, why?” Senuna snapped as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“But only criminals have ever been thrown from this here rock,” Lladriana declared shocked, and panting from the exertion of striving to hold onto the flailing arms of Sigewulf. Deeply maternal even if she was not particularly skilled at demonstrating it quite as plainly at that moment as she might have otherwise done, to slay a child as Aven was proposing was quite beyond her. Nervous and at a loss, she was to seek to reason with the other maiden, “We have never before thrown a child from this rock.”

“What of it?” Aven demanded of her, infuriated she snapped at her, “This boy has aided that pig in escaping us, and it murdered poor old Sarah!”

“Yes, but-”

“Release me!” Sigewulf cried out once more, struggling to break free from them, stricken with panic at the thought that they might truly throw him down below.

This plea caused Lladriana to try to pull him away from Aven, moved by the desperation and fear in his eyes. The two women though were to come to a sudden halt, when they heard the voice of their mistress thunder through the air. Though of the fairer sex, Senuna was a woman with a voice as profound as that of the ocean, one that could thunder like the very worst of tempests just as it could soothe far more capably than any herb ever could.

To hear her voice outside of her innermost chambers or the great tower where the said chambers were to be found, was a natural source of shock.

“Milady, what brings you hither?” Aven queried nervously, after a moment of silence.

Senuna had heard of some of the troubles that had come to haunt her palace, this had made her descend from the said tower she had been locked away in with Glædwine to discover her chief-handmaiden Sarah dead and the other handmaidens in a panic. To find her Nymphs in a mad fury, with two of them eager to murder a child something of a shock to the goddess, who had never entertained such a notion prior to that moment.

The figure who captured the eye of the pair and Sigewulf, though was not the goddess herself but rather the male figure who stood tall, bearded and was the image of youthful vigour; Glædwine. Dressed not in the manner of a Valhol warrior, but a Romalian gentleman that is to say in a tunic with a toga thrown over his left shoulder. This was a striking vision in the eyes of Sigewulf who had never seen a man dress in such a manner before then, so that he did not much ponder the particulars or history of the man’s choice in wardrobe.

It was thus with blazing eyes that Senuna had appeared in the doorway with a number of servants, her lips pursed, as she regarded the pair. “What is the meaning of this? And who let out that boar that murdered my Sarah?”

“Milady, it was Sarah herself, who wished to prepare a special feast for the occasion, only for the boar to slay one of the handlers and escape.” Lladriana explained stuttering as she spoke, such was the fear in her voice, for none were greater on the isle of Senuna than Senuna. “The boar found his way to this child, whom Aven wished to throw down the Sarvanian Rock!”

“You ugly hag, how dare you!” Aven shrieked dropping the youth’s legs that she might leap nails first against her fellow Nereid.

The two might well have struggled against one another, were it not for Glædwine’s intervention. Leaping forward, to interpose himself just as Aven dropped the upper body of the child as she leapt away from her cousin, Glædwine was to scold the two of them furiously as one might disobedient children. “Comport yourselves! This islet is a holy place, and after you have struggled to murder a child, you would heap more shame upon thyselves?”

This served to soothe Lladriana who feeling safer behind Glædwine ceased struggling with the older Nereid, who was to only stop her efforts to claw at the other woman when she noticed her mistress glaring at her. Infuriated she was to accuse with a pointed finger in the direction of the other woman, “She is to blame, just as this boy is for the murder of poor, sweet and innocent Sarah!”

Sigewulf could not resist a snort at this description of Sarah. The woman had proven herself time and again, to be both a brute and highly unlikeable in his experience, so that he like all the other boys had come to regard her with thinly veiled scorn. His gaze was inevitably drawn away from Lladriana and to Glædwine in the hope that he might intervene on his behalf once more. The man did not appear fully inclined towards helping him; rather he seemed to be perplexed.

“How could he be to blame for what a wild animal did?” Glædwine asked confused, looking from one Nereid to another.

“I did not kill Sarah, though I would have done so quite proudly,” Sigewulf hissed at them all, “It was my father who did so!”

This admission startled everyone, with several of the servants nodding their heads in agreement. Both Nymphs were to also nod their heads if reluctantly so, each of them acknowledging the truth behind his words.

This confession though, and the acknowledgement of it served only to confuse Glædwine who blinked his eyes, in bewilderment, “I had thought that a boar was to blame for all of this?”

“That would certainly seem to be the truth,” Senuna agreed at once, keen to dissuade him from questioning into the matter further.

“If what you say is true, Hroðgar is innocent of such a crime,” Glædwine replied attempting to understand failing to, the meaning behind the words of those around him.

There was a tense silence that followed, during which the exasperated Sigewulf simply stared at the man he had come to like and regard almost as highly as he had his father. “No, Glædwine! They turned him into a boar, wherefore he fought to free himself and gored Sarah to death!”

This revelation stunned Glædwine who like all men in his situation had sought, to turn his gaze away from the painful reality that stared back at him. Gaping at the youth, he was to stare from him to the woman he had come to revere, studying her embarrassed expression he was faced with the reality of what she had done.

It was at first with an innocent expression that she attempted to reach for him, at which time when he drew back, it was then that she turned dark eyes upon Sigewulf. The boy was to swallow audibly at the anger in those eyes. He had never seen such fury, not in the eyes of his father, nor in those who had murdered his brother and sister, nor had he ever seen it in the eyes of those warriors his father had defended him from.

Those men had made clear what it was that they intended to do, and were far more likely to strike at him at once, while this woman gazed on him with such disdain and fury that he knew he had perhaps made an enemy for life.

Frightened, Sigewulf was to look from her to his only protector to see that Glædwine had also noticed the momentary flash of hatred in her eyes. Seeing the consternation and the dawning realization on his face, Senuna sought to temper her earlier slip with immediate sweetness the likes of which the boy had never seen before.

“Oh, my Glædwine there is naught to fear,” She said to him, reaching once more for him, “I will admit that I used Circe’s flute to turn Hroðgar into a pig, however it was he, and he alone that I did this to, I swear it!”

Circe was of course the ancient goddess who had enchanted Odysseus, and had ensorcelled his ship-crew and turned them into beasts and animals. What none had of course known was that amongst her own servants and faithful friends, was Senuna who had of course when that ancient goddess had been slain by the latter day hero Francus when he had been shipwrecked in his youth on Circe’s isle. It was he with the sword of Priam that was later renamed by the line of Francus, Joyeuse.

It was at Circe’s passing that the goddess Senuna had taken the flute for herself, and settled upon her own isle to continue that ancient goddess’ mad doings. It was also for this reason that she had gained the ire of a great many of her relations and fellow gods, who hardly it was said cared for such behaviour on the part of even the lowliest of goddesses.