A Day at the Lake

Untitled Part 1

The summer sun beat down mercilessly from high in the sky, onto the lake just outside of Kattegat. Ivar shielded his eyes to glare up at it accusingly, as though he could somehow shame it into retreating behind a cloud. The sun appeared to have no intention of doing any such thing. It was shortly after midday, and in the summer, they would have hours of heat to look forward to.

Ivar was fast beginning to regret wearing dark clothing. He pulled off his tunic over his head and dropped it on top of the already discarded gloves that he wore to protect his hands and the delicate bones of his wrists as he moved around. Not far away, his brother's clothing lay in three similar piles where they had stripped before diving into the cool water of the lake.

Overhead, gulls circled in the sky, and the smell of pollen and slightly brackish water filled his nostrils. In the water, his three brothers shrieked and laughed as they splashed and swam.

Ivar dipped a hand into the edge of the lake, splashed his face, then ran his fingers through his hair. It felt wonderful for a moment, but it did not last long enough.

The glare of the sun was blinding on the surface of the lake and Ivar squinted as he watched Hvitserk swim up silently behind an unsuspecting Sigurd and push him underneath. He held him there for a moment, until Sigurd came up gasping and bedraggled, with water dripping from his nose and the ends of his braids. One hand paddled in the water to keep him from slipping underneath again, while the other emerged in a fist, ready to swing. Ivar couldn't help but laugh as Hvitserk dove into the cool depths and resurfaced on the other side of the lake, safe from Sigurd's retribution.

Although he would never tell them, he envied his brothers their ability to swim and play in the water. He could have joined them, of course, he had done so before, but it would not be the same for him. While he could float on the surface and move himself around after a fashion, he could not swim. Neither could he stand in the shallower water, and so to stay in the lake for any length of time would be both exhausting and awkward. Not to mention that if he were to sink below the surface while his brothers were distracted, he could easily drown.

But, in the water, he felt weightless, like he could almost stand. And it would be wonderfully cool...

He moved a just a little closer to the edge and plunged both of his hands in up to the wrists. He splashed his face and chest, then dipped his tunic into the water to soak it, and draped it around his shoulders. He pulled the cap from the leather flask he had brought with him, and took a long drink of water that his brothers had not washed and swam in, then moved himself slightly back from the water to place himself completely in the shade. He lay down, resting his head on the ground, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to relax to the sound of birdsong, and his brothers enjoying the swim.

Soon, when they got bored of being wet, when their fingertips started to wrinkle uncomfortably and they grew tired of unexpected dunkings, they would emerge from the water and dry off in the sun, before the four of them would make their way back up to the cabin to relax until the afternoon's heat subsided a little. As night approached, they would light a fire and cook some of the meat from the deer that Ivar had brought down with a lucky arrow the day before.

It was surprisingly comfortable laying in the grass in the shade of the tree, and slowly the world around him began to fade away as the heat sapped what was left of his energy.

Water hit him suddenly and unexpectedly.

Ivar spluttered against the plume of lake water that hit him directly in the face. He gasped, one hand swiping frantically at his eyes to clear them, the other reaching out, ready to exact retribution on whoever had dared to...