A/N: Vikings Season 3!
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Vikings aid in the conquest of Mercia...
Warning: Graphical violence ahead! As usual...
Disclaimer: I do not own Vikings and Game of Thrones. They belong to their rightful owners.
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Chapter 25 Warrior's fate
Helga entered the great hall. The playing children became silent, as they laid eyes on the man following her. Aslaug and Siggy turned around, watching her.
"This stranger approached me in the marketplace", Helga told them, "He has cut his hand and asked for help."
"Of course. Siggy, will you fetch me some hot water?" Aslaug commanded, "Helga, give me some cloth for a bandage."
They both went out of the room, followed by the children. Aslaug and the stranger sat down at the fire, Aslaug taking a close look on the injured hand.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
"I don't know", the man shrugged, "I was sleeping rough, I might have cut it on a rock."
"And why is that?" Siggy asked, reentering the room.
"I'm a wanderer. Sometimes people offer me hospitality and I sleep in a straw bed, sometimes I sleep with the cattle or in the fields", he explained, "It is all the same to me."
"Really?" Siggy doubted.
"No, I prefer the straw", the man smiled.
"What is your name?" Aslaug wanted to know.
"My name is Harbard", he said.
The group of Saxon nobles rode slowly through the south-English countryside. They were led by King Egbert himself, on their way to the northern settlement.
"You are talking behind my back", Egbert said, as he heard several nobles whisper, "Please, do me the honor of talking to my face." He turned his horse around and faced them.
"We meant no disrespect, Sire", one of the nobles said, "But we wondered why you are prepared to share our farming secrets with the northmen, yet we don't ask them to share their boatbuilding secrets with us."
"And since we've given them land, we should ask them to convert to the only true god", another added.
"May I remind you that the northmen in the shape of Ragnar Lothbrok are fighting alongside our forces in Mercia?" Egbert asked, "Who of you would not turf a few farmers of our land, but gain through this alliance a larger portion of England itself. Tell me now, if you dare, that I am not thinking of our Kingdom and its people first. That I don't deserve to be King of Wessex."
Morning mist hung over the river, as the combined forces of the Northmen and Wessex assembled, prepared to climb the mountain.
"Why are we doing this, Ragnar", Floki muttered, "Doing King Egbert's dirty work for him?"
"This is about our people's future, about our children", Ragnar told him, in his count for the 219th time, "I don't want there to be endless conflict between us and the Christians."
"You're mad, Ragnar, diluted", Floki exclaimed, "The triumph of the Christ god will mean the death of all of ours."
"Both of you, save your breath", Rollo interrupted them, "We have a mountain to climb."
Bjorn and Thorunn, like many others painted their faces with pig's blood. They wanted to look frightening to the enemy.
Bjorn's hand rested for a long while on Thorunn's face. Sansa walked up to them, and bend down in between their heads.
"Are you done?" she asked. Bjorn nodded and stuck his axe into his Belt. As they both stood up, Sansa dipped her fingers in the bowl with the blood and smeared it onto the braids on her temples. She adjusted her weapon's belt for a final time, then took her shield and followed the others.
The procession of warriors passed where Thorstein was lying. The wounded warrior looked up and called out, "Hey you bastards, wait for me!"
"You cannot fight", Rollo told him, "You're still too weak."
Thorstein spat on the ground, angrily. He grabbed the tent pole with his hand and pulled himself up. He was slow, but finally, he was standing.
"As you can see, bastard", Thorstein smiled, "I am perfectly able to fight."
Rollo shrugged and took Thorstein's shield, before he extended an arm and helped the wounded warrior on his way.
As they marched off towards the Mercian army, Kwentrith intercepted Ragnar.
"Please, spare my brother", she urged him.
The nobleman rode up to the settlement, where Lagertha and the settlers awaited them.
"Good day, noble King", Lagertha greeted them in broken English.
"You speak our language now", Egbert was surprised.
"I speak more than before", Lagertha said.
"I am pleased and gratified", Egbert told her, "We all will profit of a good harvest, and I brought you something to help prepare it."
He turned around and guided her towards the cart. He flipped the plane back and revealed a plough.
"It's a new type of plough", Egbert explained, "It not only scratches the earth, but it digs deeper. And because of the angle of the blade, it turns the soil over. We made some experiments, and if manure is dug into the soil, the crop and the harvest both increase."
The army had reached the edge of the top of the mountain. They all ducked down, careful not to be seen. A little behind, Rollo walked up to them, supporting Thorstein.
Ragnar signaled to Bjorn, who silently crept forward, trying to see through the cloud.
"I can't see anyone", he finally whispered. In the mist, a horse snorted.
"They're up there", Sansa insisted. Ragnar began to move forward, when he was stopped by Thorstein.
"I will go first", the one-armed warrior said. Rollo handed him his shield and Thorstein stood up. He slowly staggered away into the mist. In front of him, he could see some Englishmen. They grabbed their bows and loosened a volley of arrows, which Thorstein caught with his shield. They shot again, this time, several arrows hit Thorstein. He broke down in the grass, as several Mercian warriors closed in on him.
"I come to you, Odin", Thorstein prayed, as he pulled an arrow out of his leg. As the Mercians were close enough, Thorstein stabbed the arrow into one of their chests. Another one pulled his sword, and drove it straight through Thorsteins body. He fell to the ground, dying.
Sansa felt her heart beat faster as they waited for Ragnar to give the signal to attack. Just as they could see Thorstein go down, they charged. Screaming at the top of their lungs, they ran forward, wielding their weapons. The Mercians loosened their arrows on the oncoming Northmen, but most were protecting themselves with their shields.
Ragnar was carrying his shield, as he approached them. He caught a Mercian's sword on the wood, the stabbed the man through the throat with his sword. He defended a blow from another opponent, then thrust his sword forward, missing the throat by a few inches. He pulled his sword back, cutting as he drew the blade along the skin.
Rollo wielded his two handed axe. Cutting down a Mercian soldier, he whirled around and shoved another one back with the handle of the axe.
Bjorn had lost his shield shortly after the attack. Now he was slashing around with his short axe. He deflected a blow aimed at his left chest, then turned the axehead a little and buried it deep in the Mercian soldier's face.
Sansa was wielding her sword, her axe still on her belt as a back-up. A Mercian tried to stab his sword into her face, she raised her shield and caught the blade. She let her sword swing downward, cutting in her opponent's thigh. He fell to the ground and Sansa finished him with a stab to the face. She turned around and saw an arrow shot at her. She just was able to raise the shield in time, the arrow stuck in the red painted wood.
Thorunn staggered back when a Mercian soldier slammed into her shield. She dropped the shield and tried to cut him with her sword. He had dropped his shield as well and defended himself from Thorunn with his own sword. He punched her in the face and as Thorunn was taken aback, he slashed through her face, shearing bone and cutting through her right eye. Thorunn fell to the ground and he tried to cut her head off, when Bjorn leaped forward tackling him to the ground. Bjorn grabbed a helmet,which was lying on the battlefield and punched the Mercian with it, smashing his skull.
A Mercian soldier charged at Sansa. She dropped her sword to the ground and in a swift movement, took the throwing axe from her belt. Without exact aim, she threw it at her attacker. The axe buried itself in the Mercian's shoulder, causing him to stumble to the ground and drop his sword. In a moment Sansa was over him, drawing her dagger from her belt and cutting the Mercian's throat. She shoved the dagger back into the scabbard and picked her axe up.
Ragnar led the assault further, over a little ridge on the battlefield. From behind the ridge, several spearmen charged at him. Ragnar blocked the first spear thrust with his shield, then cut into the man's throat.
The second spearman, a few meters away, quickly aimed and threw his spear. Ragnar tried to move out of the way, falling over to the side. The spear caught him in his belly, cutting through his battle jacket and through his skin.
Ragnar came back to his feet, just as Sansa caught up with him. He was bleeding from a cut on his belly. Luckily the spear had not cut deep. They cut down the spearmen on the ridge, then saw another Mercian army, waiting ready behind the ridge.
On the cliffs surrounding the fresh Mercian army, the Wessex archers appeared, led by Athelwulf. They loosened their arrows and several Mercians fell.
"Don't shoot the prince!" Ragnar ordered them.
The Mercian soldiers formed around the prince, protecting him with their shields. Many of them fell with an arrow in their head, until finally, the prince called out, "I surrender!" He dropped his sword to the ground.
"I will fight no more!" he called, "I beseech you to spare my life!"
Egbert was guiding his guests, Lagertha and Athelstan, through a dark hallway in his villa. Judith followed as well. They reached a big room with a basin of water in the middle.
"What is this?" Lagertha asked.
"It's a roman bath house", the King explained. Lagertha looked around and discovered the paintings on the walls.
"Who is this woman?" she asked, pointing at the old painting.
"She's a roman goddess", Egbert told her, "A pagan god, just like yours."
"She's not like my gods", Lagertha objected, "My gods are as real as you and me."
Egbert looked around for a while.
"So, who will join me?" he asked.
Once they were all seated in the hot water, he began to explain further.
"Most of what the romans built lies in ruins these days", he informed them, "But there is a city called Paris. It stands in the Kingdom of Francia. Many here trade with the franks and we still drink their wine."
He leaned over to Lagertha and kissed her, gently at first, then with a growing passion. Judith seemed uncomfortable for a moment, then left the room, followed by Athelstan.
"You don't have to be afraid", he told the princess, "Nothing happened."
"That's the point", Judith admitted, "I wanted something to happen between us, right there in the bath. I didn't care if it was in front of them."
The battle was over, the dead had been collected. The wounded were being cared for. Ragnar walked up to Floki, sitting next to Thorstein's dead body.
"This is your fault, Ragnar", Floki muttered, "Thorstein died for a hill, he did not want to own. It was a pointless death. This is what your friend Athelstan has persuaded you to do, here we are, under an English sky, burying those we sacrificed for Jesus Christ. Or have you in your heart already renounced our gods and turned to the Christ god?"
"We are all fated to die a certain day", Ragnar told him, "But until that day, we are free to do as we please. I didn't force Thorstein to come, nor any of you. You all chose to fight."
"My heart is as heavy as everyone's for Throstein", Ragnar added, "But I know that I will bump into him again soon enough. In the meantime, Floki, shut your face!"
Ragnar angrily stood up and walked over to the tent, where Bjorn was kneeling beside Thorunn. She was unconscious and her face was covered in a muddy paste under a bloody bandage.
"Is she dead?" Ragnar asked.
"No. But her face…" Bjorn whined, "It is all my fault. I didn't protect her."
"That is what the shield is for", Ragnar told him, "We fight – we win and we die."
"But she's with child", Bjorn blurted out.
"And you let her come?" Ragnar asked angrily. Then he slapped his son's face.
"She may die, with your child in her belly", Ragnar said, "This will be your fault. You have the strength of a man, but the will of a little girl. I can't believe you are my son! I can't even look at you!"
Sansa was walking through the camp, when Kwentrith and her brother Burghred approached her.
"Sansa, my brother has to tell you something", Kwentrith began.
"I beg your forgiveness", Burghred said, "I never meant to fight against you. I was led by evil advisors…"
Sansa looked at him for a moment, then punched him in the face, causing Burghred to fall backwards to the ground.
"I forgive you", she smiled.
Egbert and his nobles were assembling at the fields. They had come to the settlement to deliver the good news about the victory in Mercia. They had been invited to observe the sacrifice, which was about to be made, to ensure a strong harvest.
A cow was placed in the middle of the clearing as sacrifice. Lagertha walked up and climbed up onto a barrel, so everyone could see her. She was wearing a ceremonial white dress and her face was marked with runes.
"Frey, god of plenty", Lagertha began, "Frey, son of Njord, fill the mother earth with your phallus and make her rich. Now is the time!"
The man carrying an axe chopped off the cow's head. The blood was caught in bowls, before it spilled into the earth. Lagertha dipped two fingers into the blood, smearing it over her face, before two of the others raised the bowls, soaking Lagertha's white dress with the dark red blood.
They distributed the first crop to be sown and placed it in the bowls with the blood. Then Lagertha and several others walked over the first filed, sowing the grain into the earth.
The Saxons watched in awe and disgust, as the crop was sown. Only one of them dared to voice his thoughts.
"My Lord, this is sacrilege", he said, "Unless they renounce their heathen ways, they should not be allowed to stay here."
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A/N: So, Mercia is conquered and soon they will all return to Wessex. How will Bjorn and Thorunn get on with each other after what happened?
And Sansa is definitely growing into the role of a leader, just as Ragnar would want his children to be...
I hope you liked it!
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