The sharpness of a blade comes with the eyes [Svipday]

If I had a heart I could love you ,

If I had a voice I would sing.

Many people would find it exhausting, dragging a body over the ground, not finding any solution to the problem. Ivar was just to it, he sat in a chart, was carried around by his mother, tried crutches and failed. After all that time be didn’t hold hope anymore, he darkened under the constant frustration his body foresaw. You couldn’t blame him, he was a cripple. But Ivar made it himself very hard way to often and that was something he brought on himself. Being a cripple made him angry, uncontrollable, bitter and really impatient but it also made him smart and intelligent. Being the youngest of the sons Ragnar had he was underestimated. Everybody spoke of the cripple, a boy who hardly wouldn’t survive this words once he came of more age. Ivar was eager to prove them wrong, like always.

He sat before the great hall on the stairs. His leg dangled over the stairs while his elbows rested on his crippled legs, deep blue eyes scanning over the people walking fort and back from the harbor to into the village or the other way around. Nobody looked at him, because they knew what they would get as a reply. He hated it when people started judging and if he hated something he would just cut them through. Impulsive as he always was Ivar hardly thought about the consequents. He really didn’t care either. His eyes scouted until they kept hanging on one of his brothers, smiling like an idiot to a girl that was giggling. Ivar squeezed his eyes a little together, looking how Sigurd pulled her in for a kiss. He rolled his eyes, looking away, already thinking in which ways he could taunt his brother with that. Clearly Sigurd had noticed because after his goodbye to whatever girl that was he walked over to the great hall petting Ivar on the head. ‘Something you will never get.’ He grinned. Ivar clenched his teeth together, just looking forward while he heard his brothers steps disappear into the great hall.

Most people thought that Ivar was just looking around to amuse himself with something; he wasn’t really capable to do much moving around. But if anybody knew more of the flow in this village it was Ivar. He paid attention to the details, to the people, always lurking in some way or another. Today a lot of ships seemed to arrive, people he didn’t know, from other villages or kingdoms. Mostly he could see on their shipments or clothes from where they came. His eyes rested on the weaponry of some men walking by, he fixated his gaze on the simple things but weapon, he lived to kill or at least he said that to himself. He had to prove a lot and if one thing was sharper than his eyes than it was the edge of his axe.

//©

He was just one among the many people walking down the street. It was as always busy in Kattegat. Especially with ships coming and going almost every day. The village had been placed strategically in that way. But that left it open for attacks very easy as well. Though they would see It coming from miles away and could prepare themselves for it easily as well. But now he had not come to attack this village and he somewhere hoped he wouldn’t ever have to. Though of course he was a fan of fighting. He rather go on a raid in a faraway land then against some of his brothers. Naturally he knew many people everywhere from all the travels he had done together with Mac. It would be a shame if he had to fight against those people. Some of them he even regarded as friends. But he could not say he hasn’t thought about that fact. Especially with the way the king was now. Who knew what that man was thinking anymore and where he would point his revenge at. If the people who killed his wife were from Kattegat. He was sure that they would not escape war.
But he soon buried those thoughts and concentrated again on what he actually was here for. Trading.
He had brought as ‘ordered’ from his father many cargo. But for now he was just carrying some weapons with him. The rest he had carefully hidden at the place he was planning to stay for the time being until he had sold and traded everything. The place he would call home till he actually could return back to Uddevalla. He went from shop to shop and spoke to people who at least seemed to be at least a little bit interested.
The path lead close to the manor. Making him come to a stop as he looked up at the building. A hum leaving his lips. The place didn’t look much different from the one in his village. Well it was different in many ways. But it was still clear what the place was and what it was used for. It would be even for a stranger. His eyes moved over the place one more time. Before he looked away and watched the people. A light grin coming over his lips. He should be able to catch some ‘prey’ as he liked to say. Referring to the people he traded with as prey. Because… Sometimes you had to use some tricks to get what you wanted out of them. Now it was just finding the right one. His eyes soon fell on a young boy. One who seemed to stare into the sea of people. He had bright blue eyes… He slowly followed the gaze of the boy. Being curious on what the boy was staring so intensely at. He followed a group of people. But the boy didn’t seem to be interested in them. But what they were carrying. Another hum left his lips. Seems he just found the one he was looking for.

With that in thought he started to approach the boy. Stopping not too far from him and looking back at the people. It was still just a guess on his part. But it never was wrong to take a shot. He looked back at the boy. ”Seems you have an interest for weapons.” He said in a simple and neutral way. Before he mentioned to the bag he was carrying. ”Maybe you would be interested in buying one?” He smiled lightly at the boy. He just hoped he had guessed right. Though it wasn’t a problem if he missed the shot. There were enough people around. But of course he wouldn’t sell his weapons of like that. They sold weapons here to so why would the boy just say yes? So… ”Weapons you won’t find in Kattegat.” He added. Trying to at least get the boy’s attention more. Even if it was just by a bit. Every bit could help. He stared in his eyes not looking away. ”What do you say boy?”

If I had a heart I could love you ,

If I had a voice I would sing.

Weapons, it was something that Ivar drove. In some way it was his dream to raid in the same way his brothers could. That they would raid together, fight together, triumph together. But he was a cripple and it was a thing that crossed his mind more than ones a day … how could a cripple like him fight a battle. So Ivar turned a little to weapons, he trained equally as hard as his brothers and spend a huge amount of his time in the blacksmith, sharpening his weapons like a fight could come around the corner any moment. For that he was always angry on his father, for leaving them all of the sudden. It was a father his task to learn his sons to fight, now he all had to learn it from his other brothers who learned it on their way from Björn. What wasn’t the childhood he thought he would have, he hated his father for it and in some way … he never could hate his father, not after all the great things Ragnar Lothbrok had done and conquered.

Normally you wouldn’t find Ivar so fully in sight, he usual was a little more subtle in looking at others than he was now. With the great hall through two open doors behind him a lot of people would pass him but hardly anybody did it, or dared to do it. He heard his brother laugh in the background and Ivar clenched his teeth, looking more stubborn to all the weapons walking around here. Until he got that urge, he hated that urge, of somebody looking at him. He froze his look on an old man before he slowly turned his gaze to the source, a long haired man with a few weapons in his hands. With the words he needed to stop the urge to chuckle or say something about it. So he let the man talk, leaning back against the wooden pole, eyebrows frowned like he spotted the man for trying to get him into buying one. ‘Why would I do that, not that they are that different.’ He pointed out. His eyes traveled shortly over the man only to see he wasn’t from Kattegat, he carried the weapons with his fine Uddevalla art. You see, Ivar always paid attention. When he stated that it wouldn’t be weapons you find in Kattegat he leaned forward again, like he was planning on telling a secret. ‘Are you saying that yours are better?’ He said low voiced, blue eyes piercing through the man, taking it up to a challenge. But then the man said something Ivar just couldn’t let pass. ‘Boy.’ He repeated. Leaning back with that spoiled smile on his lips. ‘You should better rush back to Uddevalla, surly it would take me a while to find you there and cut out your tongue.’ He began, stating that he wasn’t just a boy. He was Ivar, Ivar the Boneless and he loved when people praised him to his title, Prince of Kattegat.

//©

He smiled looking down at the boy he was trying to get in his net. But hearing the words that the boy spoke, made it clear he wasn’t the easy fish that Svipday thought he would be. What was a shame, he had hoped on an easy sell. It was so much more fun than having to fight for it. Well fight,, go into a discussion and try out every little trick in the book that he knew to change someone’s mind. It was tiring at times and he had come from far. So an easy costumer would have been much appreciated. He listened carefully to the words the boy spoke when he leaned in. Almost as if he was going to tell him some kind of secret. He narrowed his eyes a bit at the words and let out a hum. Yeah that was exactly what he was saying. It was well know that weapons made in Uddevalla were better. After all they had better blacksmiths and materials. He wouldn’t say that other countries didn’t have good weapons. But he liked to believe that his own and especially those of mac were better in some ways. And it was the mind that counted in many different situations. If someone believed they could fly, they would jump of a cliff to prove it. But that didn’t mean they could fly. Still they would dare to jump. What some people would admire because it was brave. The mind worked in strange ways. The same counted for a weapon. If you believed it was a better weapon, you would trust on it and start to fight better. Because there would be no fear for failure.

His attention went back to the boy when he repeated his words A brow went up. What was that tone in his voice? The way he said it? He chuckle left his mouth. Oh was that a threat towards him? How amusing it was. But Svipday didn’t like to be threatened… At all. He stood up straight and took a step backwards, crossing his arms. ”Even if you would find me, I’m pretty sure I could outrun you.” Though he wouldn’t even have to run. He realised a while ago who the boy was. Not only at the way he was sitting in front of the manor. But the bright blue eyes. People had talked about the son of Ragnar. News and rumours travelled fast. Faster than usable news. ”And even if you could catch me, you wouldn’t be able to reach high enough to cut out my tongue.” He stared straight in the eyes of the boy. He wouldn’t be threatened that easily and he wasn’t afraid to say what he was thinking ether. He took a breath before looking at the boy again. ”It wasn’t my meaning to insult you.” He had to remember he couldn’t cause any trouble… Well he could but it wouldn’t be pretty and he would like to avoid that at least. ”But to me you’re still a boy.” And that wasn’t a lie. Not only by age. No, the way he acted was like a spoiled brat. And that wasn’t how a man supposed to act. ”You do have spirit.” And that was a good thing, something to admire. ”Very admirable prince.” Well he guessed he wouldn’t be selling any weapons to this guy would he?

» Svipday Knútrsson
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