And so, for three complete days, Ragnar remained lying on his bed.
He felt completely comfortable remaining in the room because the environment outside was currently entirely hostile to human activity. A massive winter storm had arrived from the northern seas, dropping thick sheets of solid ice onto the streets.
The ice was falling so heavily from the grey sky that it was making them unable to even see the large gates of the city from the central palace. The guards stationed on the walls were forced to huddle near small fires to prevent their iron chainmail from freezing directly to their skin.
Beside him on the bed lay Gyda. She had spent the last three days resting alongside him.
"Ragnar, the local healer visited me yesterday to check my condition," Gyda said, looking directly at her husband.
"After exactly six months, our son will be born."
Ragnar reached his hand across the bed, gently touched her long hair, and leaned his body forward to kiss her head.
