Chapter 1 - A "Proposal"
Welcome to the first chapter of the second story I've posted on the internet! I've now edited it as of July-20th!
Synopsis: Ubba Ragnarsson has successfully taken Tamworth, and Mercia soon followed. Ceowulf is now bestowed on the throne as King. Viking rule through a Saxon King was finally in their midst. But celebrations are soon cut short by a threat, covered by the thin veil of a proposal.
Warning: This story is not appropriate for minors and is intended for mature audiences only. This story will have very triggering subject matter throughout. Individual trigger warnings will be placed with chapters when appropriate. Any feedback is really appreciated as I work to improve my skills as a writer.
Triggers for this chapter: vulgar language, minor violence.
Ubba Ragnarsson smiled at the sunrise on Repton's horizon. The orb of the sun flashed a series of fantastic beams onto the landscape, transforming its navy sky into a bright medley or oranges and pinks.
The drengr was happy to have lived to see another day after everything he and his men had accomplished.
After constant battles and the siege at Tamworth, a relative calm had finally arrived in his adopted home of England.
After a great yawn, Ubba started on his usual morning stroll.
Repton had grown familiar to him in war time. He was curious to see how his perception of it would evolve now that peace was upon them.
An especially familiar sight was the church located near the center of town.
Ivarr had converted it into his own personal torture chamber shortly after they had driven Burgred into hiding.
It took quite a lot of persuading (and mead) to get him out.
The Mercian's most revered kings lied buried there. With Burgred deposed, it was time to show some respect to their Saxon cohabitants.
Ubba coughed a bit as some loose dirt was kicked up by a passing horse.
He sneered at the visibly simple-minded man riding it.
"Bacraut!" He called after him.
As Ubba walked through the city's streets, he saw villagers helping one another clean the carnage left behind by the war.
He caught wind of some men discussing plans for the construction of homes, shops, and even taverns.
The air was filled with their chatter and the rhythmic feet pacing across the sporadic planks of musty wood along the streets.
A truly bustling town Repton was indeed.
To see the community healing was a welcome sight.
Mainly because a great majority of it had burned down.
Though no one could pinpoint which fires were specifically started by Saxons or Danes, the two groups did not welcome each other's presence just yet.
Tensions were still high.
They knew they could be walking past the soldiers who killed the loved ones. Burned down their homes.
And much worse.
Each side had rivers of blood on their hands, but that was the way of war.
Ubba was thankful the conclusion of this war brought about peace rather than the total annihilation of one side.
He had no qualms with ridding this realm of his enemies.
But his desire for a more serene, calmer life was growing by the day.
The very calm they fought so hard to achieve could be ruined at any minute.
Ubba found comfort in knowing a man like Ceowulf was now king.
The then-thegn, now king, was far more level-headed than his predecessor, and was genuinely determined on maintaining peace between Saxons and Danes.
Ceowulf's conviction was undoubtedly fueled by concerns over his son's safety, but Ubba recognized there was truth in his conquest for a peaceful, fair reign over Saxons and Danes alike.
If not to secure Ceolbert's future, then surely to instill a sense of quiet over the usually loud landscape.
Ceowulf and Ceolbert seemed to be the type who enjoyed the sounds of a river stream and birds singing, rather than the clamoring of swords, axes, and shields.
Ubba had a growing appreciation for both, but if he had to, he'd take the battlefield.
To each their own.
"Brother! Taking in the sights of our victory?" Ubba followed the voice of the newcomer to see Ivarr jogging over. The wild Ragnarsson was flashing a devilish grin.
"Hej brother. Are you as well?" Ubba greeted him, patting him on the back.
"Bah! I'm afraid I've come to fetch you. Ceowulf has summoned us. Again! Our king insists on reacting to anything that so much as resembles a threat!" Ivarr complained.
"Have a care, brother. Ceowulf's reign is but in its infancy. Even with our army, he's vulnerable."
Ivarr swatted away some flies buzzing around his head. "He stands tall and proud with that crown on his melon. But his actions do not match!" He griped.
Ubba smirked at his younger brother.
The flies were undoubtedly coming from the stable behind him which by luck they'd managed to meet at upon this summons.
"It is a good day for a ride, brother. Save for the fact we'll be meeting a worried king," Ubba said, shrugging.
"I can see where the little twig gets his timid attitude from!" Ivarr said.
"Have you lost faith in the aethling so soon? I know the prospect of training a future king once excited you!" Ubba teased.
"Brother, you need to have more faith in me than that! Ceolbert has potential! I plan to shape him into a great warrior!" Ivarr said proudly as he mounted his chosen horse.
Ubba shook his head as he mounted the horse next to Ivarr's.
He knew his brother would train the boy in the ways of cruelty as well as battle.
Ceolbert did show he could wield a sword when they disposed of Burgred, but it was clear he had a lot to learn.
Why someone like Ceolbert would seek Ivarr of all people to be his mentor was beyond him.
Then again, opposites tended to gravitate toward one another.
They also have a tendency to drive each other apart.
The sting of worry jolted Ubba's neck as he remembered the growing divide between him and Ivarr.
As it appeared they were being driven by their opposite goals.
Leaps away from where they were when they first set foot on this island along with their brother, Halfdan.
But Ubba was not keen to join Ceowulf in being in a worrisome mood.
The brothers continued to banter and even managed a laugh or two on their ride to the Tamworth fortress where Ceowulf's war room resided.
A fine structured room away from prying eyes, perfect for devising plans for war.
And now for peace.
Upon arriving, the brothers took note of how soldiers and servants were scurrying around.
The chaotic mood was reflected in the state of the throne room.
It was usually meticulously well-kept since Ceowulf's ascent to the throne.
But Ubba could see dirty dishes littering the long wood dining tables.
Some were full of steaming hot food, suggesting everyone had suddenly abandoned their meal in response to something urgent.
It was if they were preparing for something.
But what could it be?
If Ubba didn't know better he'd say they were preparing to man the walls for battle.
"What do you suppose the fuss is about?" Ubba asked.
"How the fuck should I know?" Ivarr snorted.
They maneuvered through the bustling crowds and met Ceowulf in his war room on the second floor.
It was dead quiet, serving as a stark contrast to the bustling halls.
The map of England with pieces marking known armies – ally and foe – was covered with an impressive pile of wrinkled scrolls.
Ubba immediately could tell something was especially wrong.
Ceowulf's brow was deeply furrowed, so much so it'd surely add more wrinkles to his already corrugated face.
Ceowulf had proven to be stoic in the face of trials and tribulations.
A frown was simply a part of Ceowulf's resting expression.
But something was weighing on the king's head, and Ubba knew the source wasn't the crown.
Ceolbert stood by him, the color drained from his already pale face.
He looked as if he'd seen an apparition.
"Good, you've come," Ceowulf said, relieved.
"What troubles you now, my king?" Ivarr asked, failing to hide his annoyance.
"We've a major problem on our hands," Ceowulf said.
A servant girl hurried into the room with a jug of wine in hand, but Ceowulf quickly shooed her away.
Ubba eyed Ivarr to ensure he didn't try and steal it from the girl.
Ivarr was always eager to get soused, and Ubba was equally concerned about him trying to force it down Ceolbert's throat.
"We've... been propositioned," Ceolbert said, slowly.
"Son, we've been threatened!" Ceowulf said, exasperatedly.
"Given the circumstances she seemed… reasonable?" Ceolbert asked, trying to somehow buffer whatever predicament Ceowulf was dealing with.
"Who are you referring to?" Ubba asked. This time a sense of annoyance trickled into his tone.
Just get on with it!
"La Mère. La Mère des Secrets," Ceowulf said finally. He raised his hands up in the air as if he was physically unloading that news onto the world itself.
Ubba blinked.
"By the Hand of Thor…" Ubba said.
"The La Mère? La Mère des Secrets? That treacherous troll who brokers information to the highest bidder, La Mère?!" Ivarr demanded, raising his voice with each subsequent word. He clenched his fists so tight his knuckles loudly popped one-by-one.
"You've met her?" Ceolbert asked.
"No! And she is fortunate to have never crossed my path directly. Else I would remove her head from her shoulders!" Ivarr barked, jabbing a finger in Ceolberts face.
The aethling stood his ground but the confidence he tried to portray was betrayed by a sharp inhale on his part.
"I share your anger, brother. I know all too well the suffering that creature has inflicted!" Ubba pounded a closed fist on the pile of scrolls. The thick parchment concaved under the pressure.
"Gods know how many men we've lost thanks to her. And how many operations compromised? And for what?!" Ivarr said.
"All because she traded information for coin!" Ubba growled. He paced over to the fireplace supported himself up by resting his forearm against the sturdy stone mantle.
He glanced over at Ceolbert who was busy flattening out the scrolls Ubba had just crushed.
It was difficult to tell if Ceolbert was more concerned about the state of the scrolls or knowing he shared the same world as the likes of La Mère des Secrets.
"Ceolbert!" Ubba said, with enough firmness to have the aethling snap into attention.
Though Ceolbert was Ivarr's pupil, Ubba felt a little extra encouragement from another party was more than warranted.
"Her eyes are everywhere," he said, channeling his sincerity into the aethlings puppy-brown eyes.
Ceolbert nodded quickly and looked at Ivarr. "She wishes to ally with us. Who is she allied with currently?" He asked.
"HA! She is only loyal to her silver hoard. Rumored to be enormous, beyond compare!" Ivarr said.
"Then how has she amassed such great power?" Ceolbert asked.
"She spares no moral expense by exploiting children, whores, lepers, orphans, anyone damned who felt they'd nowhere to turn to," Ubba explained, dusting some dead embers off the mantle. "Through them, she gathers information. Anything from the layout of forts, patrol routes… secrets of all kinds."
"All sides of wars spanning across decades could be crippled if they had full use of her network. In but a breath, she could start a war," Ceowulf said.
"That means… surely she's infiltrated your ranks?" Ceolbert asked.
Ivarr gave a curt nod. "Even Norsemen and Danes were known to be spies for her. Though my brother and I believe our fellow warriors are bound by our shared code of honor, every man and woman was vulnerable to the prospects offered by greed."
"They would even completely disregard the threat of Helheim," Ubba said. The tension into his voice channeled thorugh his fingers as he broke off a chip of stone from the mantle.
If a spy was unfortunate enough to cross my path, I would savor their screams as they were banished to the icy hel for eternity!
"But combatting La Mère has proven to be damn near impossible!" Ivarr said.
No one could just round up every poor soul who fit the model for a spy and interrogate suspected spies.
For that would literally include everyone. Despite their best efforts, the great heathen army had only managed to unveil a handful of spies over the years.
Even ten soldiers who were executed for allegedly spying on one of their trade routes had to be posthumously exonerated when news still reached La Mère ears through other channels.
The Ragnarssons always refused to do business with the wretch. They would much rather commission the likes of Tonna if they were to use any neutral party.
Tonna was a brute in looks and personality, but she was at least predictable.
"So why in the name of Loki would La Mère des Secrets want to do business with the Kingdom of Mercia?" Ubba asked.
"She wishes to ally with us," Ceowulf said, as if having read Ubba's mind.
"WHAT?!" Ubba and Ivarr exclaimed in unison.
"You cannot be serious?!" Ivarr yelled.
"It's obviously a trick!" Ubba said, placing his hands on his hips.
"Do not take me for a fool, Ragnarssons. I have reason to suspect her motives for obvious reasons!" Ceowulf said, glaring at the pair.
Ubba bowed his head. "Apologies, my king," he said respectfully. Ivarr glared back at Ceowulf but eventually gave a curt nod.
"Her proposal is far from what any of us could expect," Ceolbert said, scratching his head.
"My son, you are to be tested countless times before you succeed me. I did not expect one as daunting as this so soon," Ceowulf sighed.
Ceolbert placed a reassuring hand on his father's shoulder, making the old man smile.
Ubba sighed, reminiscing similar exchanges he had with his father.
Another good reason that this man is king.
"What are the terms of this 'alliance?'" Ubba asked skeptically.
"She promises to dedicate all her resources - spies, silver, whores - in exchange for our protection," Ceowulf explained.
"HA! You hear that brother?" Ubba said, smugly.
"Sounds like a snake that's been backed into a corner, hissing for help! To whomever has pinned her there, I say cut her head off!" Ivarr jeered.
Ceowulf closed his eyes, though it was obvious it was not because he was enjoying the mental image of her demise.
Ubba eyed the weary king. "What troubles you so?" He probed.
"Well, two things as a matter of fact. The first being she is need of protection from someone. The de la Croix family," Ceowulf said.
"The who?" Ivarr asked.
"They're a wealthy merchant family, originating from Francia. They started a faction in England to secure more trade routes. Their main trade is high-quality fabrics, and it's proven to be quite lucrative," Ceolbert explained.
"La Mère is threatened by... fabric tradesmen?" Ubba asked.
Ceolbert shrugged. "Apparently. Then again, how are we to know how she fully operates? Given your testimony of your… erm… history with her, she must have been active for what. Decades?" Ceolbert asked.
"At least. Burgred often went to her in hopes of undermining your efforts," Ceowulf said to Ubba and Ivarr.
"What good that did them," Ivarr snickered.
Ceowulf's eye visibly twitched at Ivarr's immature remarks but he refrained from reprimanding him further.
Perhaps the king was finally recognizing Ivarr would do what he wants, when he wanted.
Within reason.
Sometimes.
"And the second?" Ubba probed, nudging Ivarr's shoulder to cease his antics.
"That is more pressing," Ceowulf said. He dug through the various scrolls on his desk before unfurling one before the brothers.
Ubba and Ivarr read it together, scanning each word. It did not take long to realize why their king was so concerned.
The paper was packed with puny but legible notes detailing a battle that took place on the river Trent at the height of the civil war that had just concluded.
Maps drawn with expert precision showing battle formations and how they changed as the battle progressed.
Ubba remembered this particular battle well because he was there.
It was as if he was watching the battle take place as a spectator.
A feeling he did not welcome knowing it came on from the likes of La Mère.
"By the hand of Thor…" Ubba breathed.
"There's more," Ceowulf said, tersely.
He pinched the upper corners of the scroll and dramatically flipped it over.
The thick parchment crinkled loudly as it flattened out on the table.
What Ubba saw now stunned him even more.
Descriptions of battle tactics used, and whether or not they were novel or commonly associated with their respective sides were listed in the same tiny handwriting.
The predicted odds of success and failures paired with the actual outcome had been calculated with mathematical precision.
Strengths and weaknesses exploited by both sides were also listed.
It just kept going and going and going.
Ubba could not savor the fond memories of their victory when faced with something as invasive as this.
He felt as if he and his comrades were being surgically dismantled by a great force, so far from their reach and understanding they didn't have a chance of escaping.
The amount of time and resources it must've taken to document this had to be ungodly.
He knew La Mère had an onslaught of resources at her disposal, but he never imagined something like this.
"This is… hard to read, brother…" Ubba said, trying not to stagger in place. Ivarr, sensing his brothers obvious call for help, placed a studying hand on Ubba's back.
Despite their difference in size, Ivarr was formidable in both strength and character. Not enough to extinguish the threat before them.
But enough for Ubba to know he could count on Ivarr for what was to come. Whatever that might be.
"We're fucked!" Ivarr griped.
How eloquently put.
"I suppose that's one way to phrase our predicament. She insisted this is a token of good faith," Ceowulf said.
The servant girl from before peeked in the room again, but this time Ceowulf accepted her offer of wine.
Gods knew he needed it.
"A token of good faith? She must be a lunatic if she thinks we don't recognize this as a threat! She may as well be saying 'Give me what I want or we will sell this to your enemies!'" Ubba protested.
"And I agree! Whatever her reasoning, she has detailed knowledge of our ways of battle. While our enemies have a sure understanding of our tactics, this would only specialize their weaponry, ambushes, and more to the point where everything we have worked for. Everything we have sacrificed to get here, will be rendered mute! By her accounts it's because of her personal desire to see the de la Croix's dead. With that, it's no surprise she's used this threat to 'encourage us' to accept her offer. I will not put the people of Mercia at further risk," Ceowulf said, putting his wine goblet down.
"As King of Mercia, I will accept her proposal. The alliance will be forged!" Ceowulf said definitively.
"Normally I would strongly oppose this, my king. But given the circumstances, we cannot leave ourselves open to attack. Not when this could reach our enemy's eyes," Ubba affirmed.
Ivarr paced back and forth, scratching the stone floor loudly with his boots. Much like a child kicking the dirt whilst throwing a tantrum.
"When do we face this bacraut?" Ivarr asked, finally relenting.
"I've sent word to the de la Croix's, inviting them here to Repton to be our honored guests. We are to ambush them at the feast I plan to throw for them," Ceowulf said.
That explains the servants running around like mad men!
"Why not just seek them out and kill them? Wouldn't that expedite the process?" Ubba asked.
"La Mère insists she wants them assassinated, with a very intricate plan," Ceowulf said, rubbing his temple.
"I can review the plans with them, father. You need your rest," Ceolbert said, worriedly.
"Do that for me, son," Ceowulf said, appreciatively. He looked at Ubba. "I'm counting on you. We cannot fail!" He urged them.
Ubba nodded and Ceowulf left to retire in his bed-chamber.
The king looked exhausted.
He must've spent hours combing through whatever La Mère was demanding.
Now it was time for the brothers Ragnarsson to step in.
They needed to rally their fellow drengr to do their kings bidding.
Alright La Mère... let's see what you're plotting!