I clenched my teeth tightly together with a face scrunched up from pain as Freydís held a death grip over my hands. The healer said the baby was coming hours ago, yet here we were still no baby was delivered. I know Freydís is in excruciating pain, but I swear this woman is going to break my bones. I was getting ready to depart Yorvik when Cara, the slave, ran towards me, letting me know Freydís's child was coming.

'You're doing great, Lady Freydís, just concentrate on your breathing,' said Cara.

'I can't do this, Ivar, I can't.'

Freydís wept, leaning her body against my chest. We were seated on her bed. I had my legs between her with my arms wrapped over her body, holding her hands. Another healer was wiping Freydís's face with a damp cloth.

Freydís released a screeching scream into my ear that I was sure I was going to be partly deaf for a few days.

By the gods, please get this baby out of her. I have to leave.

It was hot and stuffy in this room being dressed in chain mail wasn't helping. I wasn't wearing my armor. I was wearing the Saxon's red uniforms and their chain mail. My fleet of eight hundred men departed this morning for Nottingham. Fifty of my men, all dressed in Saxon uniforms, would ride with me south into Mercia to find my brother. I'm trying to lead an army, yet I find myself here.

Cara walked over to Freydís, lifting her dress.

'Lady Freydís, your baby is coming. I need you to take in deep breaths, and when I tell you to push, you push.'

Freydís gave a piercing scream in response. She was having a difficult time as she gripped down my hands tightly. I had to pull my head back in pain from the grip.

'Lady Freydís, you're doing great! Just a few more pushes, and you'll be able to hold your beautiful baby,' said Cara.

I glanced over at Cara, hoping she'd get that damn baby out of her. Cara was wearing her peasant wool dress and had her filthy scarf wrapped over her hair. Her large eyes in total concentration as she directed Freydís. I can't believe I never noticed how beautiful this slave is. I felt like time slowed around us, and I couldn't feel any pain as I watched Cara work, memorized by her. A snap of a bone was heard, and I took back, not feeling any pain as Freydís snapped one of my bones near my thumb. My eyes widened as I bit down, not trying to show any discomfort.

Freydís gave another anguished scream, and within seconds we heard the cries of a baby.

Thank the gods.

'It's a boy! Lady Freydís, Lord Ivar, you have a healthy son,' said Cara as she wrapped the child.

I moved from out behind Freydís, letting her rest against the bed. She was crying, but it was tears of joy. I grabbed the umbilical cord cutting it with my seax. Cara smiled at me before turning and handed Freydís her newborn son. She cried louder as she held onto her son.

'Oh, he's so beautiful, Ivar, look at your son.'

Cara took the baby and brought him down to me while I was strapping my leg braces back on, ignoring my thumb. I smiled at her as I took the tiny baby into my hands. He was the spitting image of his father. I couldn't help but smile at the crying newborn. I brought my hand to his forehead, wiping the blood from his hair. It looked like he would have pale blond hair, possibly the same color as Torvi's. Frowning at the newborn that cried in my hands I handed the baby back to Cara. Grabbing my crutch, I got up heading for the door. Freydís called, picking herself up.

'Wait, Ivar, where are you going? Don't you want to name your son?'

'No.'

He's no Ivarsson. Clenching my teeth, I barged through the door, leaving Freydís with her child. My foul temper swiftly changed into a grin as I saw my men wearing their Saxon uniforms. They were waiting out front of the house next to their horses.

'With the screams coming from that woman, I'd say you don't have to worry about any trouble happening in this village. The Northumbrians probably think we're housing Jormungandr itself within these walls,' said Leif laughing at his joke.

I shook my head, grinning where fate was about to lead us.

'As the commander of you battle harden Saxons, we leave for Mercia! Remember to hide all amulets that will give us away. Everyone's hair must be concealed. If you don't know the English tongue, then I better not hear shit out of you.'

My men cheered, and Fletcher ran up to me, handing me my helmet. I stared up at my horse in annoyance. I was going to dread this part.

Putting my helmet on, I glared down at my servant. The little shit left the steel out in the sun, and now it's burning my forehead. Worst. Servant. Ever.

Leif and Egil walked to either side of me, helping me get onto my saddled horse. I couldn't use my chariot. Too many faces would recognize it. Egil held onto my reins as we rode out of Yorvik. Leif kept to the front leading us.

We rode our horses alongside the Trent river. Fletcher held the reins for Father Judd, who I demanded to come along. The damn priest was against it because all I had were men in my group. I could not help it the Saxons didn't believe in female warriors. I had to have Skul ride with the fleet alongside White Hair to Nottingham.

'Lord,' said Egil softly. 'The men were curious to know what the gender of your newborn child is.'

I glared at Egil. Looking forward, I could tell Leif upfront was grinning from Egil's question.

'Freydís has given birth to a healthy divine son.'

Leif released an obnoxiously loud laugh.

'Hvitserksson no doubt. White Hair claimed that he heard moaning coming from your room the day we came back from Mercia. I hope they didn't do anything on the bed next to you,' said Leif laughing.

Frowning at that bit of information, I did have dreams of precisely that. I rolled my eyes. I'm glad to know I'm a joke around those two.

We rode most of the day, stopping a few times to give the horses a break to drink water and cool off. The sweat was running down my face, and the back of my neck was burning as the sun beat down on us. In one of the villages we tried passing, a merchant stopped us.

'Saxons, what are a bunch of West Saxons doing so far north?'

Leif waved at him, but I didn't need a merchant sounding an alarm, so I had Egil stop next to him. Remembering how Alfred talked, I did my best impersonation of him, trying to mimic his accent.

'We're here on orders from Prince Alfred of Wessex. He had us deliver a few loaves of bread and a couple of fish to the Heathen scum Ivar the Boneless. A reminder from our lord savior to look after the Christians in Northumbria.'

The older merchant fell to his knees in fits of laughter.

'You did that task too? Oh, how I wish I could've seen his facial expression with that. Your Prince Alfred is a good man and a great Christian. Here take this its freshly baked bread and some cheese for your men.'

A memory of Alfred, sweaty, naked, and lustful next to me in bed appeared, causing me to grin at the merchant.

'Yes, a great Christian, God bless,' I said, grabbing the sack of food.

Once out of hearing range from the merchant, Egil began translating what I had said, and my men were laughing hysterically. Father Judd was frowning at me.

'Lord Ivar, I'm so happy you take my lessons seriously.'

By nightfall, we made it to Nottingham. We never entered the village though we needn't post sentries because my army resided here. We made a few fires circling us and ate the merchant's bread and cheese. Afterward, I bedded down for the early journey tomorrow. I fell asleep between Egil and Leif, listening with great annoyance to Leif's snores.

'Heathen.'

I opened my eyes. It was still early. The sun hadn't even risen yet. I smiled for Bishop Heahmund was sitting on a stone next to where I laid. A woman holding a baby boy in her arms stood not too far from us.

'Christian, I'm happy to see you. How did you find me? Who are they?'

I looked at him confused as I sat up. I looked around, noting my men were still all asleep.

'This is my beautiful wife and my son that would one day bring me your boneless head.'

'You never told me you remarried and that you had another son.'

'I told you our paths would cross again. Ivar Ragnarsson. Remember you alone choose the direction and the outcome of every decision you make, not fate.'

'What are you talking about?'

I woke up. It was early, too early, and I could hear Leif's loud snoring next to me. I sat up, looking around in vain for Bishop Heahmund. It was all a dream.

The damn Christian is preaching to me in my dreams now.

I felt something fall down my cheek. Surprised, I brought my hand up, touching my tears' moisture. Why in Allfather's name am I crying?

I glared over a Leif, who released a loud snore. Even in his sleep, he's still obnoxious. Taking my crutch in hand, I swung it at his chest.

'Ugh, what, who was that?'

'Turn over,' I hissed, resting my head back down on the grass. I turned to my side facing Egil and shut my eyes.

Morning came, and we were mounted back on our horses riding south. Father Judd took that time to preach to us in one of his boring sermons about his Christian god. The village Lichfield came into view this was going to be where I planned on gaining my information. It was a short distance away from the town where King Burgred stayed. If Hvitserk's army came through here, these villagers would know what happened. As we rode up to the streets, we were greeted by the village's priest.

'West Saxons? Welcome to Lichfield. Is there something I could help you with?' said the priest. He was an elderly man that walked with a staff.

'Greetings, father, we had business up in Northumbria under Prince Alfred's orders. We're heading back to Wessex. Could you point me in the direction of your tavern,' I said with my best West Saxon accent.

'Oh yes, the tavern is over past those pillars here follow me I'll take you to the stables.'

Leif and Egil helped me dismount off my horse, and we walked into the tavern. I made Fletcher stay with the horses. My small war band headed into the tavern. The owner was shocked to see his customers' size but quickly greeted us and started filling cups of ale for us.

I took a seat at the back table with Leif, Egil, and Father Judd. The owner brought us our ale, and I gave him some Saxon gold coins that had King Ecbert's face on them.

'It's strange to see West Saxon warrior's here. I figured you'd be at East Anglia,' said the owner counting the coins.

'We came here to help assist with those heathen scums on the taxes.'

'You haven't heard?'

I shook my head, looking innocent.

'Why our army chased them off, it was one of the sons of Ragnar himself. I believe it was Ivar the Boneless. Chased him and his small army to East Anglia with his tail between his legs.'

I grind my teeth, keeping a straight face. King Burgred went back on his word and assembled an army chasing my brother to East Anglia. Why East Anglia?

'Why not back to Northumbria? We heard a huge fleet of heathens landed in East Anglia. Surely you wouldn't want them to combine their forces.'

The owner chuckled, grinning at me.

'That's just the thing King Edmund of East Anglia has taken up arms with us, and we have them besieged. Come winter, they'll be surrendering to us. God be praised. If you hurry, I'm sure you can join in on the action.'

Now I was pissed, I put up a fake smile nodding my head at the owner. He took that as his dismissal, making his way back to his counter. I had been tricked. The Mercians had an army that overpowered my brother's. Without any choice, his men probably were forced to run to East Anglia with the Mercians on their asses the entire way. Ubbe, not having many warriors, probably got besieged from his ships and with Hvitserk's thousand men forced to join Ubbe's. Soon they'd run out of food. I needed to get the Mercian army out of East Anglia. To do that, I needed to make King Burgred vulnerable so he'd submit to my demands.

The elderly priest who guided us to the tavern walked inside. Upon seeing me, he walked over to our table, taking a seat between Father Judd and me.

'Father,' I said.

'Please excuse my curiosity.'

'No need for formalities, father, what troubles you,' I said, imitating Alfred's accent.

The priest placed his frail hands on the table, looking between Father Judd and me as he tapped his fingers against the surface.

'Did you find the sword?'

'The sword?' Father Judd asked.

'Yes, Bishop Heahmund's sword.'

'Why are you looking for the bishop's sword?' I asked.

The priest gave me a shocked expression placing his hands over his face. Father Judd looked sternly at me. What's going on?

'Please forgive me. I thought you knew. The great Bishop Heahmund fell in battle by the heathens. They took his sword, and I knew King Æthelred sent men to go and try to retrieve it so he could be buried with it.'

I dropped my cup of ale onto the ground. Father Judd talked to the priest, but I wasn't paying attention. Bishop Heahmund is dead. My Christian friend, who I thought of like a father just like Floki, was killed by a Dane. I was overcome by anger, anger that I was welcoming. Anger I had no interest keeping at bay.

'Father, King Burgred's wife, is she safe?' I asked. I have a feeling the king had lied about not having children and a spouse now.

'Why yes, her and our princes were taken to Chester.'

'God be praised,' I said with a smirk.

The priest dismissed himself, knowing we weren't a threat. I could feel the chaos and fury ravaging through my body as I formed ideas and made a strategy.

'Ivar,' said Father Judd in a calm voice. 'Don't do this. Bishop Heahmund wouldn't want this. You need to keep calm and patient. You could go to King Burgred and negotiate for your army's safe return back to Northumbria.'

'I have no interest in negotiations. I'm going to cover the fields with Mercian and East Anglian blood.'

'You know I can't support this.'

'Then leave!' I shouted, shooing him away with the flick of my hand. 'Run back to Wessex dwarf, so when I see you again, I can kill you myself.'

Father Judd shook his head, getting off the chair and leaving the tavern.

'Lord,' said Egil. 'What if he tells King Burgred that you're here and what you've learned.'

'I hope he does,' I said. I pointed at both my housecarls, 'leave me.'

I left the tavern. My army was looking concerned, especially since I was walking alone. Leif must've halted them. I know Fletcher saw me as I walked past the stables, but I ignored him. I left the village, walking deep into the woods where I collapsed on the dirt. I was filled with anger and sorrow. My hands were shaking as I pushed my body up, crawling to a tree. I leaned against it. I couldn't control my emotions any longer. Everything around me was falling apart all over again. I wrapped my hand over the silver cross that hung around my neck, squeezing so tightly blood was pouring over it and oozing out between my fingers, all while screaming. My screams that could easily overpower Freydís's. I screamed till I couldn't scream anymore. It hurt to breathe as I cried with unshed tears.

Who was going to consult me now? Who was going to keep me levelheaded?

'Christian! I hate you for leaving me. You said our paths would cross again. But I won't see you again. I know I won't ever be allowed to enter your heaven. I swear to you on my life I will return your sword to you and avenge you,' I gasped and released another piercing scream to the sky. 'I hate you, Christian! We were supposed to go to Ireland together. We were supposed to travel to Tara and step next to the stone that sings to true kings. I hope your enjoying being reunited with your wife and son. Goodbye, my friend.'

I dropped my bloody cross and reached for my pocket, pulling out my map. With a blood-soaked finger, I left a trail of blood tracing up to Chester. It's a two-day trip if I left now. Reaching for my crutch, I picked myself up off the ground walking back to the village. I was ready to bring Mercia and East Anglia down. I was prepared to shatter both kingdoms. A fire had ignited deep inside of me, one that was fueling my fury. Father Judd said I needed to be patient, but the dwarf misjudged me. My anger wasn't blind anger where I rush wildly into something. This was anger where everything would be well thought out and controlled. I intended to cause terror throughout these lands.

Emerging out of the woods, my men were waiting for me. Leif and Egil walked toward me, helping me get back on my horse. I showed Leif where we were heading, and we departed. Everyone was silent. No doubt they most likely heard my screams. The entire trip, I had withdrawn myself from my men. All I could think about was revenge, and I was riding straight to it. We waited till Sunday before entering the village.

Approaching Chester, still dressed in our Saxon uniforms, the beauty of the stoned buildings blew me off guard. The Romans most likely did this. A guard stopped us. I had Egil guide me to the front.

'We have orders from King Æthelred and King Burgred to take her grace and the princes to Wessex.'

'What a great use King Æthelred is sending us a crippled knight and so few to escort our queen and princes,' said the guard laughing as he looked me up and down.

The insult didn't anger me. I was calm, a calmness I never knew I had in me.

'You're talking to the Commander of King Æthelred's royal house guards. If you're not careful, you'll find out how crippled I truly am,' I said, my voice sounded like a deadly threat.

'My apologies, lord! I. I didn't mean anything by that. The lady is in prayer right now.'

Ignoring the guard, I turned to my men, waving them to enter. They were grinning as I unleashed a dangerous wolf pack onto the Mercians of Chester. Reaching down, I silently unsheathed my seax and pierced it into the man's throat. His shocked expression as he spat out blood collapsed to the ground. I wiped the blade on my uniform before putting it back in its scabbard. I pulled myself off the horse by myself, dropping painfully to the ground. Fletcher handed me my crutch, and I picked myself up, smiling down at the corpse.

'Regards from the crippled,' I said, walking past the corpse.

Entering the city, of screams and horror as my men began slaughtering the guards. Egil stood in front of me axe in hand, walking toward the church. Fletcher carried an axe, too though he better not use his, or I'll kill him myself.

'Rally them all up, do not kill the women and children. They'll be useful as slaves!' I shouted.

I walked into the ealdorman's stoned house. If there were any royalty, they would be here. Egil and Fletcher followed me into the house. I immediately spotted two house guards who did not notice us entering. They had their faces pressed against the wooden door creeping into the cracks. Egil and I silently approached them axe and seax drawn. We killed the guards quickly by sneaking up from behind them. As I approached the door, I realized why the guards were so distracted. The moans of pleasure were escalating from the room. Rolling my eyes, I opened the door walking in. My presence went unnoticed as a couple laid over a bed. The two continued to make love.

While the man was railing into the woman beneath him, I walked up behind him, seax in hand.

'Oh yes!' shouted the man as the woman had her eyes tightly squeezed shut.

Now beside him, I tapped him with the side of the blade on the shoulder. The man turned to face me, and the woman gave a death screech. Something warm, thick, and sticky struck my left thigh and hand, trailing down in between my fingers to my crutch.

'That better have been piss,' I said through clenched teeth.

I placed my seax blade against the man's throat. Egil had the woman restrained. I glanced down at my hand seething in anger because the man's filthy seeds had sprayed on me.

'Is she the queen of Mercia?' I asked, still in clenched teeth.

'Ye. Yes, Queen Æthelswith.'

'Good,' I said, slicing the man's throat.

The woman's screams intensified as the body fell on top of her. Shoving the corpse to the floor, the woman tried fighting Egil. He snatched the back of her neck, yanking her off the bed holding her out in front of me. I reached for her dress, where she trembled in Egil's grasp shouting her Christian prayers. I wiped my hand with her dress, removing the filth off my hand and leg.

'My lady, where are your sons?'

Queen Æthelswith puckered her cheeks and then spat in my face. Bringing my head down and closing my eyes, I exhaled lowly before staring her in the eyes. In a quick movement, I gripped onto her throat tightly, holding my seax tip of the blade at her heart.

'Lord, I found them. They're at the last room,' said Fletcher from the doorway.

'Shackle the princes to their whore of a mother.'

We came in like a fierce wolf pack. We quickly took over Chester. The guards were slain, and the fortress fell. Some of the villagers possibly escaped running into the woods or on their boats. It didn't matter I came here for a reason, and I collected it. We loaded carts and wagons of grain and barrels of salted meat and ale. We took the cattle, horses, and slaves, herding them back to Nottingham.

I glanced at the back of the queen's head, who had her sons chained to each of her wrists. She walked slowly in front of me.

'Tell me, Queen of Mercia, what should I do to your husband for his betrayal? Huh. Maybe I should nail him to a cross and bring his corpse with me to East Anglia.'

The queen stopped looking behind her shoulder at me. She was a young woman, probably in her mid-twenties, just a couple of years older than me, with long dark hair. The anger in her eyes was apparent. Oh yes, she wanted to kill me. This only made me chuckle as we continued.

It took us four days to get to our destination, but it was worth it. I had extra food to help my brothers in East Anglia.

Arriving in Nottingham, there was a mixture of my shields on the palisades and yellow and black shields. I smirked because I could use all the extra help to erupt chaos at times like these. King Harald was within these walls with his warriors.

King Harald greeted me at the gate. His presence would've annoyed me, but I was happy to see him now until I saw the sword hanging from his waist. At that time, I swore to my gods I would kill King Harald Finehair one day. Harald would die by me.

'Earl Ivar! Look at all the plunder and slaves you brought.'

I restrained myself from lashing out at the king as I kept walking inside my village.

'King, how many warriors and shield-maidens do you have here?'

'Three thousand, although some are wounded, we ran into some trouble from Wessex. They know how to fight.'

I glanced down at his sword like a serpent ready to strike and release my venom. I withheld, readjusting my gaze back to his eyes.

'Good, I'll be needing numbers to help when the time is right. At first, daylight take the livestock and food I brought back to your ships and sail to East Anglia. I'll be having my ships join your fleet.'

'Tell me, Earl Ivar Lothbrok, why would I go to East Anglia? What could I benefit from going into battle for someone else's war?'

'Tell me, King Harald, do I look like an earl. It's Ivar the Boneless. Do this, and I'll make you king of one of these kingdoms after I conquered Britain. I can make these offers because I'm in the position and power to do so. I'll give you East Anglia if you ally with me.'

Harald put his hands up as he immediately backed down from his authoritative tone. There was only one true leader here, and the Norway king would learn of it the hard way.

I had chained the queen to my bed in my original room from my last time here. Her children were next door guarded by my housecarls. I studied my map by the candlelight when the never-ending rattling of chains against one another disrupted my thoughts.

'Quiet,' I said in her English tongue, keeping my eyes fixated on the map.

'What has become of my children, heathen filth.'

'They're fine.'

'What kind of man denies a mother her children. You tie me to your bed as if I'm a slave for you.'

I rolled my eyes. I had zero intention of sleeping on that bed with her. I'd sleep on the floor. Her being in my room was for her protection. I gave her a bored expression before looking back at my map.

'Heathen! I have to use the bathroom.'

I moved my chair, so my back was turned to her. Still focusing on the map at the routes I'd take into East Anglia.

'There's a bucket next to the bed.'

'I heard you Northman are good in bed. I wouldn't mind if you Ivar the Boneless wanted to relieve some stress.'

What? I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. I glanced back at her. She had somehow pushed her dress above her waist. My face was growing hot, so I quickly returned my gaze to my map. The queen giggled at my action.

'You have me chained to the bed, and you seriously have no interest pleasuring yourself, even if I'm willing.'

Nope. Why do I constantly keep finding myself in these awkward situations?

I stood up, walking out the door. Entering the room next door, I walked to the two boys chained and shackled.

'Wake up,' I said in the English tongue.

The boys trembled at my presence as I unlatched their chains from the bed. I shoved them in the direction of my room. Opening the door, I guided the boys inside. I was rewarded through crying on both ends as the family was reunited. I bonded the chains with their mothers so the three could sleep together. As I finished the last chain, I leaned over the queen bringing my eyes down to hers.

'Queen of Mercia, go to sleep. If you try and kill me in my sleep, my army will kill you and your sons. Slowly,' I said, extinguishing the candle next to her bed.

I stayed up till late in the evening making my battle plans. It was like a game of chess. Ubbe and King Edmund had started the game, and now I was going to relieve Ubbe and take over, bringing my fingertips to my eyes rubbing the drowsiness out of them. I glanced at the window where I could still see the glimmer of the night sky.

How was I supposed to win this battle? The odds were against me? I leaned back in the chair while I continued to stare at the Wash River running through East Anglia. If only I could walk like everyone else, I could quickly attack from this direction. I brought my attention down to my useless legs. Why did the gods curse me like this?

'I thought your legs were a weakness, and you wouldn't survive, and I was wrong. Your legs have given you a strength. A strength even your brothers don't have,' said Ragnar's voice faintly.

I froze, blinking my eyes a feel times to try and get a grasp on my sanity.

'You're like a deaf man whose eyesight is sharper than anyone else. You are special. Not in spite of your legs, but because of them.'

I kept my brows furrowed, and my lips tightly scrunched together as I stared at the river.

'I'm going to drown from this plan,' I whispered to myself.

'Tell me, Ivar, where does it come from, your strength,' said Bishop Heahmund's voice faintly.

I smiled, nodding my head. I had a plan. Ubbe, Hvitserk, I'm coming. I reached over at my candle, extinguishing the flame.

I had remained in Nottingham for about a week with a little over fifty of my men, including Skul and White Hair. I barely slept as I rehearsed the battle plans. Maybe a total of four hours a night was what I was receiving. After having to tighten my belt, I also realized I hadn't been eating much. I was stressed everything was at stake. Egil had told me I looked like a skeleton figure with dark sunken eyes.

I stood at the bottom of the palisades smirking as I stared up at three wooden cages that hung high above our walls. Every day I placed the queen and the princes inside the cages for display to any Mercian that must've crossed my village. The boys would cry, and the mother would scream whenever she saw me.

'Lord, here are the hostages you've requested,' said Skul.

I grinned, turning to see the two holy saint priest Prince Alfred had exchanged for my two earls. They both quivered within my presence. Skul and Leif held onto them. Both men were elderly and fat.

'Fletcher!' I shouted.

'I'm behind you, lord, no need to shout I'm only partially blind.'

I swear I'll throw this one-eyed brat into the river. Rid me of at least one trouble seeing as the kid can't swim.

'We are going into battle here soon,' I said, speaking in the English tongue. 'Before a battle, what should we offer to guarantee a victory?'

'A sacrifice to the Allfather, lord,' said Fletcher grinning.

The priest gave me mortified expressions as they saw their fates. Skul was laughing sinisterly, kicking in the legs of her priest slamming him to his knees. Walking between them, I traced my fingertips across their cheeks and stepped in front of them, tapping a finger to my lips. I grinned at them, snapping my fingers together.

'Why don't I have the princes perform the sacrifice,' I said in the English tongue. The priest in Leif's hold was shaking as his robes became soil from piss. I frowned as I looked up at the cages where the boys hung. 'They're a little young, though, probably never swung a sword. Oh, that would be painful. The boys would have to keep hacking at your fat necks until you become decapitated. You see, I want your holy heads to send back to Prince Alfred himself. The time for peace is over.'

I grinned. Walking behind them, I pulled Leif's axe from his belt. I brought enough force in the swing the first priest probably never knew his death had come. His head rolled in front as blood showered out of his upper body, falling to the ground. The princes' high pitch shrieks were heard from their cages, witnessing the first murder. I chuckled, repeating the same fate to the other priest.

The next day I rode with my men and hostages to the village of Tamworth to see the cow shit himself, King Burgred. We were wearing our original leather clothes and chain mail, for we no longer needed to conceal ourselves.

I walked into the village crutch in my left hand, my right arm wrapped over Queen Æthelswith's shoulders with my seax blade against her throat. Skul and Leif were escorting the princes. They were still in chains and shackled. The boys released gags as they carried blood-soaked wool sacks in hand. My men had their shields out as we walked up to King Burgred, who stood in the center of the town with a priest next to him. He had a shield wall of warriors positioned behind him, but I wasn't fazed. Not while I had possession over his legacy.

'I have your wife and your children, King Burgred. You went back on your truce. You broke your oath with me, Ivar the Boneless. Princes show your father what happens when men betray Uncle Ivar.'

King Burgred's sons threw the wool sacks at their father's feet. The heads of the priest rolled out. King Burgred did his cross sign over his chest. The priest that stood beside him gasped, stepping back in horror.

'Lord Ivar, please, my wife and children are very precious to me. I swear to you I'll get the taxes collected and immediately send it up to Yorvik.'

I chuckled at the king's pathetic pleas. If only this man knew of his wife's betrayal.

'Please, I beg of you it. It was my people who persuaded me. I swear to you, Lord Ivar, that I'll remain loyal to you. I. I. I swear I didn't harm your brother. No harm came to Lord Hvitserk. I spared him.'

I dropped my crutch to the ground leaning most of my weight onto the queen. I walked toward King Burgred, tapping the seax blade against her throat. While I saw all eyes on my seax with my left hand, I reached to my abdomen, unlatching one of my knives. I lunged the small blade into the throat of the priest who stood beside the king.

The king backed up cowardly, and a commotion broke from the Mercian side of the shield wall. Placing my knife back into its strap with bloody fingertips, I reached up to the king's forehead and drew the cross sign on him.

'I forgive you, as soon as you pull your army out of East Anglia and remain in this kingdom.'

'Yes, yes, I swear to you Lord Ivar, I'll do that immediately.'

I smiled at him for a moment before letting my annoyance show. I turned around, still supported by the queen. We walk back to my men. I leaned into the queen's ear dropping my voice.

'You never answered my question. What should I do to your husband? How should I trust someone who breaks their promises?'

I never waited for her response as we stood next to my men. I shoved the queen to her husband. I halted Leif and Skul from releasing the princes, though. Fletcher handed me my crutch, and I walked in between the two princes leaning down to their level. I wrapped my arms around the boy's shoulders, grinning at the king.

'King Burgred, I've never gone back on my word. Princes of Mercia, both of you say your goodbyes to your parents. You'll be traveling with Uncle Ivar until every Mercian is pulled out of East Anglia and the taxes are sent to Yorvik.'

I turned away with my men leaving the queen striking her husband and the king pleading with me to return his boys.