I was staring at the prisoners who had rebelled against me over a week ago. I had been coming to the prison, often taking a seat staring them down. I never talked to them. Today I was accompanied by White Hair, who stood next to me, arms folded. I had been silent the entire time, measuring the prisoners up letting them catch a glimpse of their fate. I had every intention of killing them. I just was not sure in what way.

The door opened to the prison turning it was Freydís. She presented me with one of her beautiful smiles as she glanced at White Hair. He grunted in a deep voice as he stepped further away from me to give us privacy.

'You've changed, Ivar,' said Freydís.

I looked up at her as she stood beside me.

'How so?'

'When you first took over Yorvik, you wouldn't have cared if those Christians lived or died.'

I frowned, clenching my jaw averting my gaze back to the prisoners.

'I don't care about the Christians. I care about my plans of invading the south now being delayed! If I'm to conquer Britain, I have to move fast. It's not as if I can say let's head south with two thousand men. You must prepare for it. Fighting and strategy are only half the battle. Conquering this amount of land, I'll need to take a substantial amount of food to feed the army. Getting the horses trained so we can move fast with little interruption, speed is everything for this plan to work!'

I didn't mean to shout at Freydís, but I was still heated at the complications I would have to face here soon.

'These men are fools, yes, but surely, they didn't mean to do this amount of damage, Ivar do not kill them. Have them swear their oaths to you,' said Freydís as she placed her hand on my shoulder.

I stiffened from the sudden contact. I wasn't in the mood for such things.

'Why would I ever trust men who've betrayed me?'

'Ivar, if you keep slaughtering people just because they have a different opinion than you. Soon your army will begin referring to you as a tyrant leader. Wouldn't you rather be loved, not feared?' said Freydís as she kissed me on the cheek. I remained unmoved, keeping my gaze at the prisoners in chains. 'In my heart, I know you'll make the right decision, Ivar Ragnarsson.'

I clenched my teeth together, hearing my father's name. My brothers used their names as titles where I saw it as a hindrance. My title was my name, Ivar the Boneless, and that's what I wanted to be remembered by. The door opened again. This time Leif and Skul rushed through.

'Lord, there are a bunch of Northumbrian villagers entering the town carrying spears and pitchforks,' said Leif.

'And that would be the fyrd,' I said, grunting from the pain being shot up through my legs as I stood up, holding onto my crutch. 'Let's head to the hall before my puppet king says something stupid.'

Opening the door to the outside revealed over a hundred villagers gathering in the streets. It was indeed the fyrd a bunch of villagers who would respond to battle if I so chose to call on them. They were a mixture of trained warriors and tradesmen who had other jobs such as farmers or tailor, but most definitely not a warrior. This was the main reason I decided not to consider using them in my conquest. They'd be more useful staying in their villages than slowing me down.

Walking through the crowd toward the castle, the villagers noticed me. My housecarls surrounded me with their shields as the villagers began throwing rocks or cabbage in my direction.

'Heathen!'

'Murderer!'

'The Devil!'

The shouting continued as we broke through the crowd. A villager launched past Leif's shield spitting in my face. Leif reached over snatching the man and shoving him forcefully to the side out of our way. More Danes came with their shields, improving the barrier around me as we made it into the castle.

Wiping the spit off my face, I walked into the hall towards the front table. Priests and ealdorman from the surrounding villages filled the hall. As I walked towards the throne, most of the priests did their stupid cross sign over themselves. My left shin was cramping as if I had deep lacerations running up and down it. Trying not to let my pain show, I ignored most of it, only grunting a few times as I reached King Egbert. Glaring at him, I turned to face the audience. Bishop Heahmund and Father Judd joined me at the front table, standing next to King Egbert and Bishop Wulfhere.

'Please, let the people outside come in. They have a right to hear what I have to say,' I said.

As the doors opened, the shield wall that had followed me into the hall now relined up, forming in front of me at the front table.

The villagers had to leave their weapons outside the hall before entering. A strain of shouts thrown at me earlier started filling the hall now as they accused me of betraying them.

I stood, leaning heavily on my crutch, trying to take off as much weight from my shin as possible. I raised my hand, attempting to silence the crowd. Eventually, the noise dulled down.

'My people, the actions that happened last week, I promise you were against my orders,' I said.

'Lier!'

'Heathen scum!'

'Quiet!' shouted King Egbert the hall grew silent shortly after. I nodded my head in appreciation to the king before looking back at the people choosing my words carefully.

'The men responsible for the slaughter are locked up. I have a duty to protect this kingdom and each of you poor Christians from the kingdoms south and north of this beautiful kingdom, the kingdom known as Northumbria. And I promise you I will protect you. By the gods, it is important to know who our enemies are and who we are,' I said, placing my hand over my heart. 'And we are Northumbrians! Northmen and Saxons, Christians and Pagans, Vikings and farmers. Coexisting in peace has made us stronger than any other kingdom.'

The hall erupts into a huge commotion of shouting. Walking off the steps, I put my hand on my men as they moved out of my way, so I was face to face with the fyrd. The villagers looked at me cautiously as I walked over to them. My shin's pain was feeling as if my bone were about to break. Trying not to display the pain, I kept my voice steady and confident while speaking to the fyrd.

'Our enemies are everywhere they surround us in the North known as the Kingdom of the Picks or Alba. They claim to be Christians but are these not the very same men who enslave your children and steal from your lands. They surround us south known as Mercia, East Anglia, and Wessex, once again an ally due to their faith as Christians but to what extent? Was it not the late King Ecbert of Wessex who tried swallowing Mercia for his on profit?'

The crowd started shouting in agreement with the facts I was presenting them.

'Northumbria!' I shouted to get their full attention. 'We are different. We are not as weak as all those other kingdoms. Yes, we are a small kingdom. However, we are a strong one.'

The audience began cheering as I praised this kingdom, smirking inwardly to myself. Now is the time to turn my speech for my benefit. Choosing my words with care and flattery, I looked back at the crowd placing my hand on an elderly man's shoulder.

'The man who attacked your holy church was an enemy. It was not right what happened. Of course, I don't condone it. Who would encourage the slaughter of innocent Christian children, mothers, and the elderly. But a brutal slaughter did happen, and now your loved one's feast with your god in heaven,' I said. I couldn't help but smirk, knowing Bishop Heahmund was behind me and was probably plotting a hundred ways to kill me for this speech. 'Your enemy is not with the pagans. Your neighbors or even the priests could've done this.'

'Kill them!' shouted a man in the crowd. I held up my hand, nodding my head in agreement.

'I know you Northumbrians are wise. We must see past each person based on our beliefs and truly look at them as a whole,' I said, placing my hand over my heart. 'I promise you I will bring justice, I've sworn to protect Northumbria, and I will. Here soon, Northumbria will be the most powerful Kingdom in all of Britain!'

The cheering had exploded from the hall. I bowed at the applause forcing a smile when I just wanted to scream out in agony.

I left the hall as the villagers began departing. My housecarls surrounded me as we exited. I knew Father Judd and Bishop Heahmund were probably furious with me, but what little choice did I have. I have my ambitions, and nothing was going to get in the way of them.

I sat down at the benches in front of the tavern to take the pressure off my shin. Skul crushed me in a tight embrace.

'Lord Ivar, that was an outstanding speech,' said Skul, not releasing me.

'She's right, lord, I'm a poet, and even I couldn't fool that many people. You have a natural ability to handle crowds, which is why you're the leader of this army,' said Egil.

I shoved Skul off me upon seeing Freydís walking towards us. She was frowning at Skul, and if I were correct, I was most positive Skul would be provoking her with her facial expression. I waved my hand at my housecarls, motioning for them to leave me. My housecarls disbursed except for White Hair, who stood off to the side.

Freydís sat down beside me, grabbing my hand and interlocking her fingers over mine.

'Ivar, you spoke like a true king of Britain,' said Freydís smiling at me.

'Have you seen a vision of the future?'

'No, but I'm not a fool, Ivar, you will most assuredly rule all of Britain.'

I could only hope that was my fate.

'I think I'm in love with you,' I said, smiling at her.

'And I love you, Ivar. It must be our fate to be together, for our paths are intertwined,' said Freydís as she leaned towards my ear. Her warm breath brushed against my skin causing my hair to stick up from my neck. 'I would love to spend a night with you. To be close to you would give me great joy.'

My face instantly heated up and my heart was nearly beating out of my chest. Shit, I'm not attempting that again. I jolted up, my shin reminding me of its pain. I bit my tongue from screaming out.

'Sorry, I just remembered,' I said, looking over towards White Hair. 'We are needed at the stables. We have to begin getting the horses used to battle.'

I walked from the tavern feeling as if my bone in my leg was going to snap any moment. I didn't want to meet Freydís's disappointed look from me evading her request.

'Ivar,' said Freydís calling out to me. 'What will you do with the prisoners?'

I stopped leaning on my crutch and grinding my teeth through the pain. I turned to look at her. Why is she so concerned about them? What I decide to do doesn't concern her.

'Fate will decide,' I said smirking.

Walking with White Hair to the stables, I stopped him having an idea that caused me to grin through even this pain.

'Tell the servants I want a grand feast tonight, a celebration, and to have the prisoners join me at my table where they'll swear their oaths to me.'

'Yes, lord.'

For the rest of the day, I stayed on my chariot, guiding my stallion around the pastures. I observed my army practice swordsmanship skills while mounted on their horses. I was thinking about the prisoners when the priest Father Judd placed a leather pouch of mead onto my chariot.

The damn dwarf went against my orders. He was supposed to remain inside the gates. He pulled his body up onto my chariot, rubbing his hands together for warmth before bending over to pick up his drink.

'I must say lord, this is quite the creation you have built here,' said Father Judd tapping his hand over my chariot.

'Floki, the shipbuilder made it for me,' I said, feeling a pang in my heart remembering the foolish Viking I loved. He was like a father to me when mine disappeared. We were the rejects of Kattegat, and we wore those titles with pride.

'Ah, yes, your ships, now those are fascinating works of art. Not even Frankia can come close to what you Northmen can build.'

'What do you want, priest?' I said while focusing my attention on one of the horses. The horse had bucked out of the fight, frightened of the noises and swinging of swords.

'Why my dear crippled pagan, I came to advise you. That is my job as your priest.'

I rolled my eyes at his statement. Father Judd was the only man I would allow to call me a crippled. I don't remember agreeing with him to advise me. This worthless priest has already drunk all my ale in my house.

'I don't need advice from a priest, dwarf.'

'My lord, now you don't even know what I was going to say. What are you planning on doing with your prisoners?'

I groaned at his question, pulling my horse's reins and guiding the stallion back into the town.

'Everyone has been asking me that question today, but I fail to see how it concerns any of you.'

'May I advise with whatever you choose you let us priest send the word of the punishment to the villages. I know they'd much appreciate hearing what happened.'

I nodded my head, letting the priest get off at the gates and riding to the stables giving my reins to a servant as I dropped down. I grunted, feeling the pain return in my shin, holding onto my crutch as I walked to my house.

I bit my tongue to keep myself from screaming out in pain walking through the street. One of my men was fondling a slave outside by the tavern. She will do perfectly. Rolling my eyes, I walked over to them, grabbing her by the arm pulling her from the man's grasp.

I should've known it was fate meeting this woman. I can't even remember her precious face today, but my heart aches whenever I think of her.

'Hey, what did you, oh, Lord Ivar,' said the man as he turned and realized it was me who took his slave.

'I need her,' I said sternly, holding onto the woman tugging her to my house.

I heard laughter back at the tavern about me taking the men's slave from him. They probably thought I wanted her for my desires. Unlike all the warriors here except for Egil, I never used a slave for such things. Something the army took notice of.

Entering my house, I released the slave as I leaned up against my bed. She didn't look like a Dane, a pale skinny young woman with long dark hair who stared at me with her dark eyes in fright. I pushed myself up on the bed, unlatching my leg braces.

'Slave. Prepare a bath,' I said in the English tongue while I took my leg brace off.

She seemed relieved at my demand though I didn't care about her welfare. I cared about getting the pain in my left leg to stop aching. Once the bath was ready, I crawled to it.

Why was she staring at me? Probably never seen a crippled. I hate being naked. I hate revealing my bare legs. Rolling my eyes, I stripped my clothes off. Feeling her hands touch my biceps, I snapped my head at her. She quickly released her hold.

'Lord, my apologies. With your permission, may I assist you into the water?'

I stared at her trying to see if there was a hidden motive behind her words. I gave her a nod only because of the agony I was in. She reached back over to my arm, helping me get into the tub. I leaned against the tub letting the hot water ease the cramping pain that had developed in my leg.

The damn slave began washing my body. I didn't ask her to though I wasn't going to complain. I closed my eyes, thinking of the prisoners.

'I've always admired you, Ivar the Boneless,' said the slave in my Danish tongue.

I snapped my eyes open because even though the words came from the woman, it wasn't her speaking them.

'Hello, Ancient One,' I said with a smirk closing my eyes again.

'Though you are a fool, just like your father, trying to outrun your fates. The runes cast at your birth have changed directions, and in some ways, they haven't. Poor Ivar, for you'll still meet what awaits you.'

'Tell me, Ancient One, what is my fate?'

'Lord?' said the slave in English tongue.

I scrunched up my face, dunking myself underwater, pondering on what the seer meant. How did my fate change directions, and why did he think I was running from it? Maybe I was supposed to have died with my father after all, and so I'm still fated to die here in Northumbria regardless. I always hated dealing with that damn seer. Unlike my mother's clear and accurate prophecies, his words could always be deciphered in a hundred different ways, making it impossible to know what was told.

Just as I promised, we had a celebration feast in the hall at the castle later that evening. I was seated at the front table sitting beside King Egbert. I had announced that the dinner was for the new alliances and new beginnings here in Northumbria. The hall doors open and my housecarls walked inside with the prisoners. They approached my table, with their hands still bounded in chains. I smiled at the approaching men standing up to greet them.

'My people, this is a new year and a time for a fresh start,' I said in a raised voice so the army could hear me. 'I like to think of myself as a merciful lord, but these men's actions have caused an imbalance in the mood of the Northumbrians, along with inside this very army itself. How will I ever trust any of you to go raiding with me? Maybe you'll start a rebellion again, and the next time and attempt to kill me in my sleep.'

'No, lord, I swear to you,' said one of the prisoners.

'My lord, we were only acting on our earl's orders. Please, we will swear our loyalty to you,' said another prisoner.

I nodded my head at the man's request.

'What are your names?' I asked, stepping towards them, taking the chains from off their wrist and handing them each a cup of wine.

'Svend, Lord Ivar.'

'Knute, Lord Ivar.'

'Erik, Lord Ivar.'

'Halfdan, Lord Ivar.'

'And do you swear loyalty and allegiance to me from this day forward?' I asked, holding up my cup of wine towards them.

'By my sacred arm ring, I swear to be your man, Lord Ivar,' said the men in unison as they brought their cups up to mine and drank.

'Skoal,' I said smiling.

Applause erupted from the hall, Freydís was in the crowd smiling brightly at me, clapping her hands. I motioned my hand toward the benches at the tables for them to feast. I poured the wine out against the stoned floor that I never drank down.

I sat down and started eating with a smile as the men began wheezing. Glancing over in their direction as I ate into my fish, the men were on the ground. Blood was coming from their mouths as they continued gasping for air and coughing.

The hall fell silent in shock at the scene. I set my hands down, gazing at the men who now laid dead on the floor.

'Take the bodies outside to be burned,' I said with a stern face moving my gaze over at my housecarls.

My housecarls approached, hauling the bodies outside. Slowly the army began following, taking their plates and leaving the hall. I looked over at Bishop Wulfhere, who was doing the cross over his body.

'Take the priest and send word to the villages of what happened here,' I said.

I leaned back in my chair, smiling at my execution. I knew if my brothers could see this, they would not have approved. Björn would tell me I wasn't fit to lead an army and that I was merciless. Hvitserk wouldn't say anything but wouldn't have approved and sided with them. Ubbe would tell me how I dishonor our father's name and that he'd be disappointed if he was still here. To which end, all of them would agree. I didn't think so, though. I liked to believe father would've done something similar. My brothers were strong, fearless warriors, but they were weak when it came to ruling. Soon all of Britain will be under my command.