The morning brought a dense fog from the crisp air, layering itself over the frosted grass. Small fires scattered across the fields leading towards Yorvik. The stench of burnt flesh filled the battlefield as the dead were finally getting burned from the previous battles.

Daylight was starting to peek through. I rode my chariot that now had bones tied around the outside, giving the impression the chariot was made from bones. Dressed in my chain mail and leather, holding onto the reins to my stallion guiding him amongst the ranks. My warriors and shield-maidens stood in four ranks out front of our gates. Glancing up at the palisades, my archers were all in position. White Hair was up on the ramparts commanding the archers from the gates. Egil rode his horse next to mine. I could make out in the distance King Osberht's army approaching by foot.

I grinned. Come and fight me, King Osberht.

The Northumbrian army was already formed in a shield wall. On a horse in the rear rank was a man with a golden crown, so that must be the king. Counting their ranks, I could see roughly three hundred men, but they were no warriors. Not like our previous battles with the Saxons. These men marching hardly appeared to be wearing chain mail or helmets. Few had swords and axes. Most carried farming tools in hand. This was not an army of trained warriors approaching. These men were farmers, blacksmiths, stonemasons, and other such tradesmen.

Perfect, I could use that little fact to my advantage in swaying them to surrender.

Panic shouts in their English tongues evolved as the army came into view of the corpses. I had Skul nail a few of the corpses to post as a form of warm greetings to them. It was a scare tactic for their army believed we were monsters invading their land. I was only too willing to play into their superstition. Last night Skul informed me she gouged out the corpse's eyes for more of an effect.

'Shields up,' I said as I began riding in front of my army towards the opposing enemy. 'Forward, do not break apart from your neighbor's shield, hold tight, show these farmers what a Dane's shield wall looks like.'

Egil rode with me ahead of our progressing army. Skul was in the shield wall's front rank commanding the men to move at her pace. All shields interlocked with their neighbors, swords, spears, or axes in the other hand. We had twice the number of warriors they had brought to fight.

'Halt,' I said, holding up my hand.

Pulling the leather reins, I guided my stallion towards the enemy. A shadow crept over me, turning it was Egil following close by, shield held up. King Osberht had also halted his army at the precise location I needed them to be.

The gods loved me. I hope they enjoy the battle. The king himself remained on his horse behind his first rank in their poorly lined shield wall. Not all had shields, but at least the first rank did.

I was smirking at their army, allowing them to get a good view of the bones that laced my chariot. I halted a short distance from their shield wall, positioning myself to look at King Osberht.

'Shoot the heathen, kill it now!' shouted King Osberht.

Who in the nine realms was he calling it?

None of his men obliged to the command as I chuckled, giving them a menacing smirk. I didn't blame the Northumbrians for not wanting to charge out from the safety of their shield wall. To welcome death so soon for on the other side of me stood my fierce shield wall of Danes of about five hundred. Not to count all the archers I had up at the palisade's walls.

'Don't you know who I am? I am Ivar the Boneless. You can't kill me. You know you can't kill me,' I shouted in their English tongue. 'Northumbria is now under my charge. Under the command of Ivar the Boneless.'

'Heathen,' hissed King Osberht.

'I'm a merciful lord,' I said, holding up a hand to halt the insults. 'I will forgive this treachery so long as all the ealdormen, here swear their oaths to the new king of Northumbria.'

King Osberht's face became red as he shook with anger from me usurping his title.

'Pagan scum, you have no authority here. I'm the rightful King of Northumbria. Heathen Northman will never rule Northumbria,' said King Osberht getting a mixture of cheers and agreement from his men.

I rolled my eyes, glancing over at Egil, who was biting his nails. I should've done a better job at selecting my housecarls. Glancing back at the former king I gave him a snide smirk.

'Oh, I'm not your king. Your new king, is waiting for his people inside the castle of Yorvik.'

'Eoforwic!' shouted King Osberht.

Clenching my teeth together in annoyance, I glared at the former king. Pulling my war pick out and pointing it at the man.

'Interrupt me again, and I'll nail you to one of those posts. Northumbrians, if any of you wish to live,' I said while ignoring King Osberht's shouting. 'You'll lower your weapons and walk through those gates. I give you my word you won't be harmed, give King Egbert of Northumbria your sworn loyalty and in return. Well, you get to live.'

'Northumbrians will never swear loyalty to you, Ivar the Boneless, or to your puppet king.'

Glancing over at the former king I gave him an annoyed look. I'm going to enjoy mutilating this one.

'Remember, you chose to fight against Ivar the Boneless, now your fate has been cast.'

I gave the army a mocking bow turning away from them. Egil was following close behind me as we rode to the back to the shield wall, positioning myself at the rear rank.

'Forward, kill the heathens, God is with us,' shouted King Osberht as he remained in the rear of his army.

The Northumbrians were slow to advance. Some of the men in the first rank dropped their weapons and retreated to the rear positions. The braver of the few relined themselves into another first rank, and after building up enough courage, they slowly advanced. They were banging their weapons against their shields in a threatening manner.

'Hold this position. We do not move,' I shouted.

My shield wall remained still waiting for the advancing army. Skul was directing her first rank to keep their shields up and tight. Here was what I lived for. The pure joy of heightened adrenaline right before shield walls clashed.

The Northumbrians advanced, gaining their confidence, started to charge at our shield wall. Which would've been a good idea, except I laid a trap for them. Within seconds the battlefield was filled with screams of agony as the first rank fell beneath the dugout trenches. Losing a good amount of their bravest men falling deep into the trench of a mix of spikes and sailcloth. I had my men soak the pig's oil into the fabric before placing it in the trench with straw.

'Archers,' I shouted, 'loose.'

Flaming arrows littered the sky at my command, landing mostly inside the trench. The flames were catching onto the sailcloth coated in oil, causing the entire trench to engulf in fire. The trench filled with cries from the men were being burned alive.

I laughed, shaking my head at the former King Osberht.

'You chose to fight against Ivar the Boneless. You know you cannot beat me. Death will be your mercy,' I shouted, laughing at the enemy's downfall.

Hvitserk's men emerged from the woods like a silent wolf pack eyeing its prey. They formed a shield wall behind the Northumbrians. Hvitserk's men sounded a horn signaling they were behind them. The Northumbrians, in panic, turned around, dropping their weapons in defeat, seeing they had nowhere to retreat to pleading for mercy.

I rode up to the trench laughing as I watched the men burn to death. Other men were lucky as the stakes had impaled them, bringing death instantly. Looking past the flames to Hvitserk's men, they were circling the army trapping them.

'Drop your weapons, throw down your armor, and follow my men into the castle to swear your allegiance to your new king. You have no choice. Unless you want to be burned alive like these men,' I said, pointing down at the trench, unable to conceal my grin.

The army already seeing defeat, acted on my instructions discarding their weapons onto the dirt. Few had armor as they surrendered themselves to my army. I felt like a sheepherder ushering in my sheep to their destination.

Hvitserk's and my split army were now combining, making our way back into Yorvik. Leif, who was with Hvitserk in his shield wall, came riding towards me laughing.

'My Lord Ivar, you mad genius, I didn't even get to swing my sword once,' said Leif.

I nodded my head with my traditional smirk. Hvitserk rode up to me as well, high on adrenaline. He was grinning from cheek to cheek. I smiled at him as we grasped each other's hands for a moment.

'It got a little chilly out there last night, brother, but who would've thought not one of our men died. Those Saxons surrendered quickly. Wait, are those real bones on your chariot!' said Hvitserk overjoyed from the battle.

I laughed at him as he rode ahead. Entering Yorvik, our army was chanting and cheering for their easy victory. What they were chanting, yet I wasn't expecting.

'Hvitserk!'

'Hvitserk!'

'Hvitserk!'

The army was cheering, banging their weapons against their shields.

Hvitserk mounted on his stallion, held his sword up in the air, substantiating the victory. Anger was rising in me as my face got hot.

'This victory was thanks to Lord Ivar!' shouted Leif.

I waved my hand towards Leif shaking my head as we rode past the ramparts. My face was burning from embarrassment.

'It's not important.'

I dismounted off my chariot and linked up with Hvitserk who was waiting for me at the entrance of the castle. We placed our foreheads together walking into the hall like the commanders of this army would. Heads held high in complete confidence.

The ealdorman lined up in front of King Egbert. The king was sitting up straight, wearing his crown grasping the men's hands as they swore their allegiance to him.

I smirked, glancing over at who was standing in front of me, the former coward king himself, King Osberht. The gods had presented me with my reward. Ignoring the pain rising in my right leg, I continued towards the king. Placing a hand on his shoulder King Osberht feeling the tension turned, meeting my smirk.

'Heathen,' said King Osberht backing away from my contact. White Hair and Skul already standing behind him and Hvitserk standing beside me. The king must've figured it was best to surrender. He dropped to his knees, clasping his hands together, praying out loud to his Christian god. Rolling my eyes at his useless tactic, a lot of good their god has been for them already.

White Hair roughly snatched King Osberht by the robes bringing him to his feet. This commotion caused all eyes to be on me from what was playing out.

'I'm a merciful leader, King. Osberht, but I have no sympathy for rebellions while I place my attention further south.'

'But Ivar. Lo. Lord Ivar,' said King Osberht looking past me at Hvitserk and making eye contact with me again. 'I'm the rightful king of Northumbria. You can't disapprove of my rights.'

Hvitserk laughed at the remark, understanding a little of what was being said.

I pulled out my knife, tapping it over the side of my temple, pacing in front of him as if I were considering his words. I stopped back in front of him where I could smell a mixture of his foul breath and robes stanched with piss. Bringing my lips to his ear, he trembled in White Hair's hold from the closeness between us.

'You lost your right to the throne the moment you failed to protect it in battle. Thus, you are the king of no lands,' I whispered.

'I, I can accept that, Lo. Lord Ivar, I can accept that,' said King Osberht, stuttering over his words.

'Good, and. God bless,' I said. I backed up patting him with the hilt of my knife on the forehead and chest in the sign motion of their cross mockingly. I twirled the knife's handle back in my hand with tightened grip. In a swift action, I brought the blade up to his throat, slicing deep through his flesh. Warm blood showered across my face.

White Hair dropped the dying gargling king to the stoned floor. Hvitserk laughed at the scene while the Northumbrians screamed out in horror, backing into a tight pack.

'White Hair, Skul, nail the fallen king to a post outside the village for all Northumbria to see what happens to rebels,' I said.

I smiled over towards the ealdorman giving them an insulting bow. I observed the Northumbrians as they continued swearing their oaths. King Egbert played his part well talking with the ealdorman identifying who would surrender what amount of supplies. Finding the rest of the proceedings boring, I nudged Hvitserk to my left, leaving the hall. Once outside, I turned to face him, smiling at our success. Hvitserk's face hardened as he stared back at me.

'What?'

'Your eyes have turned blue, Ivar, you know what that means, remember. We used to watch over you. We knew when your eyes turned blue you were in great danger of hurting yourself, and we'd say not today Ivar, not today.'

'My Lord Ivar,' said Leif grinning like an idiot walking in our direction. I rubbed my eyes in a useless attempt to get my eyes to turn back to their original color.

'What?'

'Bishop Heahmund is asking for you. Whoa, lord, the whites of your eyes have all turned blue.'

I nodded at him waving my hand. Hvitserk was shaking his head as he drank a cup of ale.

'Why are you keeping him alive still?'

I exhaled deeply. Why is Hvitserk obsessed with what I decide to do with my Christian pet?

'He's not fated for death yet. Besides, he's still of use,' I said, shrugging.

Turning away from my brother's scrutiny, I skimmed over the town. Warriors and shield-maidens were outside celebrating their victory. Huh, someone opened my house door. Probably a slave was inside cleaning it. I didn't have long to ponder over the thought because a woman of golden hair walked out, and I gasped. The very same slave I had freed here was at my doorstep.

She was carrying a bucket with some of my clothes. Wait, was she doing my laundry? My face immediately started burning. I hope I didn't leave my house a mess. Our eyes interlocked. The attractive young woman gave me a warm smile and bowed from a distance. I smiled, unable to take my eyes from her retreating form as she walked towards the docks.

If I had been smarter back then, I should've fled far away from that woman, but fate works in mysterious ways.

Hvitserk must've noticed my attention was elsewhere, looking over at what captured my attention. He walked in front of me, grinning, pointing his thumb at the beauty.

'How do I get a slave like that, huh Ivar?'

'She's not a slave. I freed her. She's a free woman. I thought she sailed back to Kattegat with Ubbe.'

'I'm going to get some more ale. Best not keep your slave bishop waiting. Maybe later you can introduce me to that free woman, hmm,' said Hvitserk chuckling as he patted me on the shoulder.

Blinking my eyes a few times, hoping the color would go back to normal, I headed for the prison cells. Grimacing at the pain emitting from my legs I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out.

The men outside began chanting Hvitserk's name again. Frowning rage mixed with pain flared up inside of me. Why was Hvitserk getting all the attention for the battle I had planned. It was all my strategies, I earned us the victory. I barged through the prison doors to pay my pet warrior, Christian, a visit.