For Barbarian as it may have looked to the sophisticated Byzantines, Carolingian courts were not that different from much later courts like Versailles. Customs and costumes may vary; the human heart remains the same. Gisla's distrust in Odo is patent akin to a healthy animal's distrust of a slithering snake. Gisla for all her virtues and because of them knows there is something rotten in Odo.

Meanwhile our happy couple relationship progresses. It is nice and lovely to be in love; it must be quite a terrible time when one feels unable to protect one's family. Decisions are to be made. Wives are to obey.

The dust raised by Charles's convoy has not the time to settle down when Count Odo announces he is leaving, For Burgundy. Should the North men choose to follow the emperor, the imperial train needs a protective rear-guard! Odo who he distrusts rises in his esteem as a warrior. The imperial convoy needs a human protection if his God proves as lackadaisical as he has been in the matter of the protection of Paris. The two men exchange curt nods as they bid each other farewell. One will certainly fare better than the other in the rich Burgundian province. Though to be honest, this territory will be the next to be pillaged once Bjorn gets inside Paris. As such, there is no ill will from Rollo as he watches the count leave with his soldiers. Burgundy needs a firm head and hand to protect it. An iron hand indeed!

- "We could have done with some of his soldiers"

Rollo does not like Odo. The brother of the Kattegat farmer has discovered that the court of Charles hides a world of corruption: bishoprics are the territories of the aristocracy; divorce is forbidden but accidents happen, the lucky ones being repudiated. Man is always the winner and woman has the under hand because of some crime committed a long time ago by the first woman ever. Odo likes … Odo likes things which displease Rollo. Floki would be surprised at how much Rollo has changed. Concubines are not to be taken for granted and women are not to be forced. Wherever she is, Siggy is approving of this changed man.

- "Not that I dare to dispute the Count of Paris assessment of the situation. The emperor's convoy needs protection. Still he could have left us more men!"

Rollo does not like Odo; Roland seems to share the same opinion. The faithful retainer will fight with his men to the last man standing and more for his capital. He is not afraid of the kill to come. Rollo's nephew must be baying for Frank blood; Roland is hoping to delay, as long as he can muster, this desire. If he dies, so be it. He will die for the Emperor, for the Frankish realm. His old father will be proud and hopefully God will shelve his sins allowing him to enter Paradise when Judgement day comes. If death meets him in Paris, then he will meet her and take with him as many North Men, pagans and miscreants as they all are.

Not sure as to take as a compliment that Roland has pronounced North Men and not Nordmanni, Rollo raises an eyebrow as in doubt.

- "Your people have paid the duty of blood. He who fights at my side to protect my country is my blood brother and it is my duty to show him the way to salvation. God bless us all! As for the heathens of your native land, my lord, may the soil of Frankia serve them as shroud! May they all rot in Hell!"

Franks and Nordmanni alike prepare for the assault against Pontoise fort. The plan is simple: the wounded, those whose wounds are too severe to ride to Paris will stay. And it will be only Franks. Bjorn kills all his Norse prisoners. At the beginning, he was keen on tearing their guts alive; now as he is tired, a quick blow of the axe and the deed is done. The Nordmanni will escape all of them. Hopefully they will ride through the thick forests which surround Paris to the safety of its walls in one long unpleasant rough ride. The wounded being Franks will not escape slavery but in theory will not be granted death.

Summer and Bjorn have brought him Love in Rouen. The eight month of the Latin calendar, the month of Vintage for his people when traders bring in the precious brew produced the sunny lands of the South is rainy and foggy this year. Almost like in Kattegat as not as cold, not yet as cold… Norse men are no different than their Southern counterparts; they do not like to be wet. Importantly, they cannot see through the thick mist which is rising from the drenched soil of the hills which surround Pontoise. It is make or break; they all have to ride and fast.

- "You understand that Bjorn will take no prisoners in Paris?"

- "My ancestor fell by Count Roland at Roncesvalles. They saved the rearguard of Emperor Charlemagne. It was worth it and a great honour indeed to die at the side of the Emperor's nephew. I have no fear, my lord. No fear at all. Look at my men, we all are ready to let the North Men feel the steel of our Frank swords. The more? The better!"

The priest who will stay with the wounded blesses the ones who will live longer and they are gone. To Paris. To the walls. Nordmanni and Imperial guards together united in the singular desire to live a little bit longer to die with honor. Brothers in arms, born under different skies. United to fight and protect the families that their God, that their Gods have given then in Frankia.

To its open gates and this time Rollo is going to learn what it is to stand on the top of them walls. To stand and see like ants, like these locusts he has heard about the men of Kattegat. The showdown is now in place.

The traitor is locked inside Paris; the lover has sent his love away. Odin can strike his rebellious son. Odin can… if it pleases the Gods of the South. If it pleases them...