What was she doing? She paced along the shoreline and people danced around her, shoveling things into the boats and on the docks. Questions without answers flew in her mind. Uncertainty lingered as someone jammed a case into her leg as they passed. They would leave for England shortly. Winds howled, sending her hair in tendrils to her eyes and she swatted it away as she made up her mind.
She grabbed her heavy bag and shimmied it onto the docks. A slave she didn't recognize picked it up and threw it into the nearest boat. She guessed she was sailing with these people. Clinging her sword to her hip, she hopped the rail and rocked with the shallow waves hitting the boat. She quickly double checked she had ginger in her medical satchel and gave a sigh of relief - she had dug plenty of ginger prior to packing.
"Lhyrie!" Someone giggled as she found a spot near the bow. Ellisif was weaving through people to see her, hands stretched out in a hug already. "It's been too long since we've seen you last."
"Entirely too long," Lhyrie agreed placing an arm around her, partially in greeting and to steady herself. This was going to be a long journey if the rocking was already making her nauseous and they hadn't even set sail yet. Ellisif hustled her over to were Earl Vik was standing, talking with one of his men.
"It is time!" Bjorn shouted somewhere. Cheers erupted around them. Several horns roared and Lhyrie saw him and the rest of Ragnar's sons travel up the dock to their own ship.
She had successfully avoided everyone the past few weeks, especially them. Reclusing herself to gathering supplies for the army, regardless if she was going or not, her thoughts on the matter had varied moment to moment for the past week, until she found herself standing on the beach as the boats were to set off, finally making her choice.
"Are you ready?" Ellisif asked her with excitement in her voice, pulling her mind away from the men. "Why aren't you traveling with them?" She asked, following Lhyrie's sight. Earl Vik's men were some of the last to arrive and so Ellisif hadn't heard.
Lhyrie gulped. Her feelings had faded slightly, but she hadn't needed to talk to anyone regarding it for some time. "Ubbe and I are no longer together," she said flatly, pressing her lips together.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Ellisif said. "You two were good together."
"Yeah," she answered softly.
Ellisif gasped as the sails dropped suddenly with a thunderous boom. The wind caught in them easily and the fleet was off, tearing through the fjord and out toward sea. Kattegat grew smaller behind them and Lhyrie felt it tearing at her. She felt like she wouldn't see it again for a long time.
She dug through her satchel, pulling out a shred of ginger and she chewed on it carefully. The bitter taste in her mouth almost made her cling to the edge of the boat, but she was able gulp down the little piece and steady her breathing.
"I get seasick," she told Ellisif as she offered a piece to a crewmember who started to look green.
"Yes, I remembered to bring some too."
"What did you think of Kattegat?" Lhyrie asked her, looking back at the shrinking city and pulled her coat closer around her as the winds picked up more and the fjord opened up.
"It was charming," Ellisif smiled, "but we didn't get to see much. We arrived yesterday and joined everyone in the Great Hall."
"That little thing could hardly hold everyone a few weeks ago," Lhyrie commented.
"It was quite crowded," she agreed, nodding.
"I don't think I've ever seen so many people."
"I'm surprised I recognized a few people I knew when I was younger," she said, pursing her lips together and looking toward her husband. Lhyrie raised her eyebrows in question. "I used to know King Harald growing up," she whispered. "In fact, he pursued me, but I wasn't interested."
"That must have been awkward."
"I thought he was going to kill me," she shuttered.
"Bloody men," Lhyrie scoffed. "They can't have what they want, and they threaten to murder everything." She shook the thought of her beating Ivar out of frustration from her mind. "Hopefully you won't have to see him anymore."
"That is the thing," Ellisif gulped. "I have a feeling he will try something while in England."
Another set of cheers interrupted her thought. The boats had just passed the safety of the fjord. The waves began to rock the ship more violently and Lhyrie grabbed ahold of the railing as quick as lightening. Oh, please don't get sick, she pleaded to herself. It was going to be a long three days at sea, she thought against the rail.
Thankfully, the days did pass quickly and uneventfully, with the help of Ellisif distracting her with conversations and fair weather. She let out an audible sigh at the sight of green land emerging on the horizon, but quickly realized they wouldn't dock on the beach as they made their way upriver. She noticed guards already doting the shorelines, attempting to hide under the cover of trees. All ran from the sight of them as if Hel was arriving on horseback.
Well, it was.
On boats.
She felt as though the river would overflow with the number of boats filling her. They slowly crawled upriver, the foreign landscape blurred together, a mess of trees and bushes. Some animals peeked out at them, uncertain of the strange grouping and quickly galloped away. Birds erupted in song, soaring high above in the sky and mingling with the clouds. Rain started to mist on them as the fog carried lower.
"Isn't this exciting?" Ellisif asked her, squeezing her arm. "The land is beautiful, but wet."
"Yes, it is warmer than us too," Lhyrie noted.
A horn blew three notes ahead of them. Lhyrie could see a fork coming in the river, and the flagship swerved to one edge of the bank. Earl Vik's boat was toward the front of the group and banked on the opposite shore as the lead. The other boats crowded around too, regrouping.
"Aelle is north," Bjorn boomed, after the commotion of the boats quieted. He pointed left, holding his sword out so others many boats away, could see. "We will travel there first for our revenge!" A deafening roar surrounded her as men enthusiastically agreed and whooped. "But Ecbert is southwest," he continued, pointing to the other prong of river.
Lhyrie huddled to the rail, listening. She wiped a strand of damp hair off her face and looked across the river to Bjorn's boat. The other Ragnarssons were with him, of course, standing behind him as he spoke. Floki, Helga and their adoptive daughter were also there, the latter huddled together. Helga stroked the poor girl's arm in comfort.
"We would wish every Viking would join us with our revenge of Aelle… but," he paused, "this bank of river is good ground. A group should stay, step up camp and hunt before we turn for Ecbert." It was good ground. Lhyrie was surprised not to see a settlement here already. "We will go on foot to meet Aelle and leave the boats here. Gather your things, we move out a once!"
Another roar boasted around her and she noticed Hvitserk beaming at her with a wide smile spanning ear to ear.
"You came!" He mouthed, as Lhyrie couldn't hear him over the roar and the distance between the boats. He turned to playfully whack his brother in the abdomen, drawing Ubbe's attention to her as well. He didn't smile when he saw her but pulled his brows together in thought. Ubbe turned away as quickly as he had and huddled with Bjorn.
"We're staying here?" Ellisif asked Lhyrie quizzically, drawing her attention away from the other boat.
"Umm," Lhyrie thought. She needed to ready her supplies and get organized. Battle was a chaotic time and she needed to be prepared. "Yes. I think I will stay here," she said, looking back over to Ubbe and Hvitserk, who were gathering their shields and weapons.
"Yay," Ellisif giggled.
"I will leave a dozen men with you," Earl Vik told them, as their own boat began to ready their things. "Let us pull to the other shore," he instructed his men. The boat rocked off their coast and across the river, squeezing in between other boats on the shore.
The men hurried about. Ellisif, her and the few women on their boat plastered themselves against the walls, away from their hustle. One man threw an axe in the air for another to catch. It dazzled and caught a faint ray of sunlight, flying in a perfect arc. Lhyrie guarded her weapons wisely, as someone accidentally grabbed her shield, ready to wield it. She was proud of her shield. Prior to jumping on the ship, she recolored it and repaired the markings of training. Dyed with lavender petals and daffodils, half purple and half yellow, a black circle marked it in the middle. They were her colors, she decided. She was her own kingdom. She fought for herself.
As the men filed out, Lhyrie grabbed her bag and dredged it to the front of the ship. With a heavy grunt, she flung it over the rail onto the small beach and hoped over after it, landing in the soft sand. Wiping her brow, she let of a deep breath before lifting it again.
"Let me help," Hvitserk said behind her as he grabbed the bag from her hands.
"I don't -,"
"Hi," he interjected, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. Just then, Ubbe cleared his throat as he passed, side eyeing his brother. She hadn't talked to Hvitserk since that day at Sigvi's. Hopefully he hadn't gossiped about it to everyone, especially his brothers. She hadn't kissed him to enact some revenge on Ubbe; she was sad, and lonely. And only expected it to be that one time. "You should have told me you were coming. You could have sailed with us!"
"She gets seasick, Hvitserk. You don't want that," Ubbe commented to his brother under his breath. He was pushing luggage up of the beach a few feet away. Lhyrie thought she saw Ubbe smile as he turned his back from them.
"I only decided as the boats were leaving. I jumped in the nearest one to me," she told Hvitserk, blushing slightly and grabbing her shield that she dropped in the sand. "It happened to be with Earl Vik and Princess Ellisif," she said, as they both past.
"And I am so grateful for that," Ellisif said. "Nice to see you again, Ubbe," she told him as she walked by.
"And you, Princess Ellisif," he said, looking up from his task.
Hvitserk adjusted his grip on Lhyrie's bag and dredged forward, clearly struggling with her heavy luggage. "I've got it, Hvitserk," she trotted after him, accidentally brushing Ubbe's shoulder.
"No," Hvitserk groaned. "Where do you want it stored?"
"I'm making camp here. I'm not joining the Aelle party."
"What?" He snapped curtly. "Why? You need to see us give him what he deserves for murdering our father!" He plopped her bag down and turned to pick her up and spun her around for emphasis. She ended up facing Ubbe, who quickly looked away from her when she locked eyes with him.
"I need to get supplies ready," she gulped, slightly embarrassed. She forgot how touchy Hvitserk was with everyone.
Hvitserk rolled his eyes at her. "We're going to blood eagle him," he whispered with a laugh, poking her shoulder.
"It will be a shame to miss," she said, turning back to the new lands, trying to find where Ellisif had started making camp. Within the sea of people, she was nowhere to be found, but Lyhrie did recognize another healer from Norway she had met last week. She wound her way through the crowd, forgetting that Hvitserk was trailing after her. "Hakon!"
An older man with long white hair turned at the sound of his name. He smiled when he saw her. "Lhyrie, it is good to see you," he told her as she pushed through to him. Hvitserk stopped out of breath beside them.
"Will you be joining the first battle?" Lhyrie asked him.
"Not this one," he said. "I have too many bandages to separate. And there are plenty of other healers to go about."
Lhyrie shot Hvitserk a smirk. "My thoughts as well. Do you mind if we set up camp together?"
"It would be a pleasure."
"It's alright, Hvitserk. You can drop that here. Thank you."
He hesitantly dropped her bag at her feet. "Hvitserk Ragnarsson," He introduced himself to Hakon, extending an arm. He seemed slightly tense, leaving her with a stranger. They didn't need to be so protective all the time.
"It is good to meet you, son of Ragnar," Hakon told him, clasping hands.
"I'll find you when we return." He kissed her gently on her forehead and turned to leave, making his way back over to his brothers to ready their weapons. She felt another twinge of guilt over not speaking to him about their situation but let the thought wander from her mind as Hakon began to unload his tarps and supplies.
She shouldn't have been surprised how many injuries occurred at sea, though she was when the men who stayed behind wandered to their setup, seeking help. Busted fingernails, slivers stuck everywhere, vomiting, and a few early cases of trench foot helped to pass her time. It was nice to work with another healer again. Hakon taught her some new tricks and she passed on some to him as they worked. She spent her meals with Ellisif, who had a handmaiden to keep her company during the day.
Several days had passed with the same routine, until a thunderous stampede echoed around the encampment. Lhyrie grabbed her sword and wielded it naturally. Others around her did the same as they looked blindly into the woods for the threat. None came. The winds began to pick up and swirl around her, pushing leaves in a tornado that encompassed her. How the little piggies will grunt when they hear how the old boar suffered, whispered the leaves around her. They did it, Lhyrie smiled, playing with the leaves. A smell of hot iron blood filled her nose as the leaves began to twirl further around her. She closed her eyes to breathe it in. It smelled like comfort.
Pressing her eyes together she was transported to a clearing in the woods. Old leaves littered the floor and she heard hoofs galloping. Ivar's chariot raced toward her and stopped suddenly a few inches from her, a groaning coming from behind the carriage. A man was bound and had been dragged for some time; Lhyrie could tell by the rash she saw poking between the tears in his blood red tunic. He was pleading in a language she couldn't understand.
Ubbe jumped out of the chariot and poked the man's belly, laughing as he did so. He had an alien look in his eyes, all the men had it. A look of violent happy vengeance that consumed them and it frightened her. She had never seen that look before.
Bjorn grabbed the man and pulled him to his feet. He towered above the mess of red and black hair. "Show us!" He yelled at him. All the man could do was nod his head, a look of confusion and pleading in his swollen eyes. Ubbe let Ivar onto his back to carry him across the clearing, as Bjorn and Floki dragged the man. She followed, her footprints gliding over the wet leaves, leaving no trace.
Bjorn jumped on the ground and a hollow noise protruded through it. Scrapping a layer of leaves off with his foot revealed a wooden door. "This is the place?" He asked the man in Norse, who was being guarded by Sigurd – not that he was in any shape to run at all, even being surrounded by dozens of Vikings. Again, he nodded his head, barely comprehending.
Lhyrie moved to circle the doors as men dug at strings, pulling them open to reveal a pit at least six feet deep. She had seen this before, she remembered. A dream a few months back after Ivar arrived in Kattegat. Ragnar's sons peeked in. Whether hoping to see the body of their father, Lhyrie couldn't tell, but no body was found. That was probably for the best, she thought. A body a few months decomposed was not a pretty sight or smell.
The man began pleading again, whimpering for his life. Ivar grumbled at him in his tongue, the menacing look sneered upon his face from before. Floki knocked the man to his knees and snickered about being a carpenter before dragging him to a fallen tree. Ubbe passed by her but paused for a moment. Unclenching his fists that he hadn't noticed were tightened, he turned almost so that he was looking right at her and gave a knowing smile before heading toward rest of the party.
Lhyrie blinked her eyes open and gave out the breath she was holding. The leaves had fallen around her and the rest of the encampment had resumed their activities.
"Are you alright, Lhyrie?" Hakon asked her, looking over from his work.
"Yes," she answered softly, smiling.
It took a few more days before the men returned, messy, dirty and bloody back to the camp. They could hear the singing miles before they arrived late in the day. "Who needs treatment?" She called out as they passed, smiles of jubilation on their faces. "Nobody was wounded?" She asked trying to hide her sarcasm.
"The Gods favored us!" Someone shouted to her.
"Odin was with us!" Another added.
Quickly, Hvitserk rushed through the parade of men and scooped her face in his palms, kissing her achingly. As much as she told herself it wasn't something she wanted, she didn't fight and kissed him back, feeling the delight pulse through him. He was still covered in blood and he had the metallic taste of it on his lips. Pulling apart, he smiled wide.
"It went well?" She asked cheekily as he put his arm around her and pulled her to walk with the men.
"It was… awe inspiring."
"Was anybody injured?"
"Just Aelle," he chuckled, "and the Englishmen, of course. I don't think we had a single casualty."
"How many men did they have?"
"Not but a fourth of our numbers," he boasted. "We are going to spend the night and head out in the morning for our next conquest. Let's celebrate!" He grabbed her hand and headed for the flagship.
"Hvitserk, I have to care for the wounded right now," she told him, helplessly along for the ride.
"But… nobody was wounded in battle," he stated simply, shaking his head.
"Yes, but many more injuries can happen by simply walking. I need to see to them before we're off again."
"Okay," he grumbled. "Do your duty." He squeezed her hand in goodbye and she was relieved he didn't try to kiss her again. As they parted Ubbe passed them in the rush. He paused for a moment and Lhyrie expected to have her first words with him since the blacksmith back in Kattegat. But he moved on with a huff, clearly exhausted and still bloody from the battle a few days ago.
They hardly seemed to rest before they were off again, up the other fork of the river. News had seemed to travel fast of what occurred between their army and Aelle's men, as more than ever towns skirting the banks emptied quickly when in sight of them. If the town looked bountiful, they would stop and raid, picking up the supplies they needed and refueling their food.
Isolating herself from Hvitserk and, therefore Ubbe, turned out to be easy. Ragnar's sons stayed and raided together, allowing her time to not think about them. But it also meant she wasn't able to talk with Hvitserk. She needed to squander that before he gets too attached. In one town, Nottingham she thought she heard a priest say before men dragged him somewhere, Ellisif came with her to explore. She gaped at the cathedral being built, clearly seeing her first Christian structure.
"It's grand isn't it?" Lhyrie asked her, weighing a gold candlestick in her hand.
"They build this for their God?" She asked, staring at the domed ceiling, half-finished though painted in gold and other rich colors. A rustle behind them caused both of them to jump. Some of the raiding party was overturning pews and tables close to the crucifix, searching for anything they could carry easily.
"You should see some in Frankia. They are older and larger."
"I will have Vik take me there when we return. Not for their God," she added quickly. "But to look at the structures."
Lhyrie laughed and it echoed about the walls. She stuffed the candlestick in her satchel and made her way out the large wooden doors into town. It was fairly quiet, and she walked shop to shop, looking if there was an apothecary in this town. The last town didn't have one and she was running low on some lesser grown herbs. And poppies. She had to set a broken arm last week without sedating him. Her ears were still ringing.
Four horns blew in the distance, back toward the boats. It was time to move on. She wished she could talk with Hvitserk to see how much longer their journey would be until the break for King Ecbert. It couldn't be much longer, she thought. They had been in England for at least a fortnight. The days seemed to blur together between travel, raiding and making camp.
Heading back to the boats, she quickly popped her head into each shop she passed, trying to shuffle through the destruction the raiders made. And then she spotted it. The bright droopy purple of foxglove. A woman came to her a few days ago, stating she felt Sleipnir beating in her chest. Lhyrie placed her hand over her heart and felt her irregular beat. Foxglove could help her, she thought, carefully covering it with a cloth and placing it in her bag. If she touched too much of it, it would make her ill.
"Lhyrie, come on," Ellisif begged of her, as the horns blew again. "They'll leave without us!"
The boats didn't leave without them, but they were one of the last people to climb aboard before the rowers took their positions. Vik scowled at his wife. Ellisif most likely would not go with her on their next excursion.
Thankfully, they were only one more boat journey away. Soon they would dock and head on foot to meet Ecbert's forces. She would join them then, her supplies fully prepped. She had come to England to fight after all. They spent three days on foot before a rider came bounding through the procession.
"The Saxon's are less than a day away!"
Horns blew to make camp. Lhyrie turned to find Ellisif and Earl Vik. She hadn't seen them for the day. Sorting through the countless faces, she gave up. She didn't even recognize anyone from their boat. Shrugging, she pulled her belongs into the flat land off the road and situated herself on the outskirts. From where she started making camp, she could see Ragnar's sons huddled in the front, around Ivar's chariot. Strategizing, she thought. Bjorn and Ivar rode off together and the three others turned to set up themselves.
Night dropped fast on their camp and the unmistakable stir of restlessness shifted through it. There were plenty of shouts of excitement, laughter and a few tears Lhyrie could hear from her spot. She readied a fire to roast a squirrel she hunted earlier, finally using her bow she brought. She hoped Ellisif and Vik would join her tonight. She could appreciate their company.
Just then, a rustling and laughter burst through a bush near her. Two men she hardly recognized stumbled over carrying a case of ale between them. One handed her a glass; she didn't take it but clenched her sword on her lap. "Ah, there she is!" She heard Sigurd yell, tumbling through the same bush. The other Ragnarssons were with him, eyes wide and glossed over. They were going fire to fire, clearly enjoying some ale along the way. Ubbe even had a smile on is face when he saw her.
"Lhyrie!" Bjorn slurred, giving her a half hug. He sat down next to her awkwardly and handed her a glass. She took this one. Hvitserk sat on her other side, followed by Sigurd and Ubbe. The two men, who she later recognized as King Harald and his brother, sat opposite of her, filling out the fire. She wondered where Ivar was.
"We will battle tomorrow!" Hvitserk said a little too loudly in her ear.
"You are our last stop," Sigurd added, winking.
"I was hoping you were Earl Vik and Princess Ellisif," she told them, taking a sip of the ale. "I wanted to see them before tomorrow."
Halfdan, King Harald's brother snorted in his glass. "I think they are indisposed," King Harald commented, glancing over at his brother. Lhyrie remembered what Ellisif told her on the boat. She opened her mouth but closed it quickly. He was a king, she remembered. A few more drinks and she wouldn't care if he was a king or not if he hurt her friends. She slowly looked over her glass to him and moved her sword to the dirt beside her.
"So…" Bjorn mumbled, "We are changing our plans."
"Ivar and him decided," Sigurd interjected.
"That is why we are going fire to fire."
"And enjoying yourself," she added.
"Of course," Bjorn raised a glass in her direction and gulped it down, letting out a belch when he was finished. "There will be a main group with us, meeting their army as they pass. Then," he said, pouring himself another glass, "we will break, playing a game of chase."
"There are dense woods and hills for coverage," Hvitserk inputted.
"One group will run into the woods as their army turns around to chase us and fire upon them with arrows. After that, another group that was on the ridge, will appear and they will run to them. And so, on and so forth," he motioned haphazardly.
"But we think Aethelwulf will grow tired -," Sigurd said.
"And run toward the boats -," Hvitserk added.
"Where another group will be waiting to fire upon them!" Sigurd finished.
"And the real battle begins." Bjorn concluded. Laughter broke out among the men. A well-rehearsed presentation, despite a little drunkenness. They clinked glasses and cheered. Lhyrie laughed with them and downed her glass.
They stayed chatting with her, their last stop of the night, and shared their ale. In his intoxication, Hvitserk began to lean on her more and cuddle into her. At first, she didn't mind, he was keeping her warmer than the fire was, but then he rose to relieve himself and as sat back down behind her, throwing his arms around her and muzzling his chin on her shoulder, she felt a fire flush in her face. She tried to avoid the look Ubbe shot over to them as Hvitserk scooted closer to her.
"Where will you be tomorrow, Lhyrie?" Sigurd asked her.
"With us of course!" Hvitserk said into her ear.
"Actually," she said, shaking her head slightly to move her hair from under Hvitserk's chin. "I was thinking about the last arrow assault, on the way to the boats."
"Why?" Hvitserk snapped at her.
"We passed that this morning, right?" She asked no one in particular. "On top of the ridge is flat. I could set up a camp for the wounded there so it wouldn't be far from the battle."
"The healer always thinking," Sigurd commented.
"Someone has to, brother," Ubbe said, messing his brother's hair. He rose to get another glass of ale and, to her surprise, refilled her glass.
"What, not mine?" Hvitserk mumbled, as Ubbe handed her the glass.
"You've had enough."
Hvitserk scoffed in response and dug his head into Lhyrie's neck, tickling her with light kisses. The ale had let her guard down some, and she enjoyed the touch but when his hands started to move more intimate on her stomach and legs, she swatted him away and dodged her neck from him, though his hands found the front of her trousers again. She pulled her knees up to shield him and squirmed again.
"Hvitserk -," she hissed, trying to be subtle.
"Hm?" He mumbled between kisses. His hands once again found the hem of her tunic and she plastered it down. The others around them didn't seem to notice or politely ignored, continuing to laugh and jest. But she minded.
"Stop," she whispered, turning to look at him. His eyes were glossed over and he had a dull grin on his lips.
"We could die tomorrow," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her, but she pulled away from him.
"No, Hvitserk."
"Come on," he nuzzled closer.
"Hvitserk, I made a mistake in Kattegat," she gulped. "I am sorry," she whispered. Avoiding the pleading look in his eyes, she turned back toward the fire and crossed her arms.
He grunted and he pushed himself to stand. He wiped his hands on his trousers and gawkily fiddled with the front of them. Clearing his throat, he turned away from the fire and wandered toward the brush, fidgeting.
"Couldn't you let him have his fun?" Someone, she thought King Harald, said through the fire.
"I am not a toy," she quipped sharply, flattening her hair. Ubbe smirked at her response.
"I think I could play you well, darling," he added, chuckling to his brother.
That irked Ragnar's sons. Protests erupted from all of them, even Bjorn, heckling the king. Thankfully they were still defensive of her. Harald got the message, slinking back into the shadow of the fire and finished his dwindling ale. Lhyrie shuttered at the thought if they weren't there with her, thankful for their protectiveness. After their show of strength to attack two kings, she was certain Harald wouldn't try anything with her after the Ragnarssons defended her. But she surly would have liked the comfort of Hvitserk's body tonight now after casting him off, if not just for the physical security.
King Harald and his brother left the fire shortly thereafter, but the others stayed. Hvitserk moved to sit on the other side of the fire, where the flames hid him from her sight. The night dwindled and it seemed like old times. Laughter and stories commenced, and Lhyrie felt herself wishing Ivar was with them, then it would truly be like old times. But the threat of war, and like Hvitserk mentioned, death, hovered over them like a dark cloud.
"To death!" Bjorn raised the last sip of ale to them around the fire.
"To death!" They toasted, clinking their almost empty cups and supping the last drop of sweet ale.
The brothers passed out in the heat of the smoldering fire. Lhyrie didn't move either. Whether it was the brotherly instinct to threaten off King Harald, she wasn't sure, but she appreciated the action of them spending the night with her.
The army woke to the flap of two raven's wing passing through camp. The shrill call echoed among the trees, stirring the the sleeping Norsemen.
It was time for battle, Huginn and Muninn cawed.
