'Stay down and wait for my command,' I said quietly.

My men and I laid low into the marsh grass next to a slope that offered concealment. I stretched my fingers over the cold mud to my chain mail, pulling some of the mud grass out that had become interlocked in the links. A stinging sensation struck my eyes, causing me to clench them shut momentarily as sweat rolled down my face. The trampling of feet was beginning to fade, telling me the last of the army's ranks had passed us. Skul was smacking her hand on the mud, probably to get my attention.

'Not yet,' I said.

I shrugged my shoulders with little movement, trying to move my damp shirt from sticking onto my soaked neck. It was late into October, but we've been walking through the swamp fields of East Anglia, remaining hidden from everyone. The journey to this point had been strenuous on us. I glanced over at my warband of loyal warriors and shield-maidens trying to resist a laugh at what has become of us. We were caked in mud from head to toe. The mud even clung to our greasy hair. The blonds like Leif now looked like they had dark hair.

Two ravens landed on a log in front of me, spreading their wings and perching at us before flying east further into East Anglia. Smiling and nodding my head, that was an omen. Those ravens had to be Odin's messengers, Muninn and Huginn. The Allfather was watching us. I gripped onto my Thor hammer amulet that hung with my cross.

Hooves galloping against the marsh ground brought me out of my thoughts as they became louder. I smirked that was the posted scouts returning to their army. I brought my hand up, pointing in the scout's direction.

'Now.'

My men pounced out from the slope so quickly some had kicked mud up as they rushed to the scouts. Panic shouts from the Mercians and their horses screeching filled the air as I picked myself up. Grunting from the discomfort my legs were in for overexerting them these past few weeks, I clenched my teeth through the pain. Thrusting my crutch into the muddy terrain, I forced my legs to move, struggling from the lack of traction.

Walking down the slope, White Hair was bounding the two Mercian's wrist with the little rope we had on us. The Mercians looked terrified as Leif, and another warrior had them restrained. They were brought down to their knees, and Skul, grinning sadistically, crouched next to one and licked the side of his face.

'You will both speak to my lord with respect, or I'll rip the tongues from your mouths.'

I lightly chuckled, placing my hand on her damp shoulder, dismissing her. The scouts looked as if they saw a ghost when I appeared. I could imagine I looked terrible. I had lost a lot of weight since leaving Yorvik, more than when I was sick from rot. I now had permanently blackened circles around my eyes from my lack of sleep. I've been living on the heightened alert for the past month, and every chance I fell asleep, night terrors awakened me.

'Mercians, greetings. They call me Ivar the Boneless. Are you the last of the Mercian army?'

'Yes, lord,' said both in unison.

I smirked at the fact they called me lord. Not because they respected me, but because they were at my mercy.

'What is happening to my army, and how far away till I reach them?'

'It's a day's walk northeast from here, lord. King Edmund's army has heavily besieged the Great Heathen Army. They have them trapped near Norwich.'

'Good, you'll lead us there.'

'No, no lord, please. There is a plague starting to spread. The children and weakly have been falling ill.'

Glaring at the Mercian, who in response quivered beneath my harsh gaze. I have my entire army besieged, and now I must add a plague to my stress on top of everything else. Allfather is there anything else you want to throw at me.

'Well, it's a good thing none of us are children or weaklings. Leif, kill him. I only need one.'

'No!'

Turning from the execution, not bothering to watch though Skul's hysterical laughs confirmed he was dead. I looked over to my ten year old Mercian servant. I could be risking his wellbeing.

'Lord,' said Fletcher frowning up at me. 'I'm going wherever you're going.'

Fletcher Ivarsson. I smiled at the thought, though he was too old to be my child. Seeing as I was only twenty-two. As much as I never wanted to admit it, he was kin-like to me. The little shit just may be the closes thing I ever have for a child.

'Mercian, how many men does the East Anglian's have. It'd be best not to lie to me. I will find out.'

'Lord, roughly three thousand.'

Somehow I needed to get a messenger past the East Anglian army to Ubbe's camp. I had to let Ubbe, Hvitserk, and King Harald know my plans. I also needed to make a new plan. We had a plague emerging from the north. I needed to get Ubbe's people from there and fast. Ubbe brought mostly families, so I was under the countdown before the plague struck his camp. I turned away, looking at my men all covered in mud. Mud, I looked over at the swamp we emerged.

Mud, that's it.

I walked over to the Mercian, unsheathing his sword from his scabbard. The scout was trembling beneath my man's hold. I turned, facing my men, raising the hilt of the sword. I slammed the tip of the blade into the soft soil.

'We will fight the East Anglian Army here at this marsh. This land has already kicked our asses. Now it's time to use it to our advantage. We're going to build a giant raft to stand on and bring the army to the marshes. While they fall into our trap, our army led by Ubbe, Hvitserk, and King Harald will come from the rear. It will be a slaughter, and soon East Anglia will belong to us.'

Commotion amongst my men broke out. I know my fifty loyal men and women were tired, cold, and hungry. We were filthy and exhausted.

'Lord, how are we supposed to bring the East Anglian army here?' Egil asked.

'Simple, I'm going to take their king,' I said, smirking. 'While I'm being pursued, I'll need you, my silent little archer, to rush into Ubbe's camp. You'll bring our army to us.'

I had permitted three groups to lead raids into the nearby villages collecting rope, tools, and sails. Men began chopping wood and carrying it to our location. I had ordered the sailcloth to be interwoven in between the logs for extra grip. This way, when my men fought on the timber, they wouldn't lose their footing so easy from the slippery marsh.

I sat against the cold mud next to White Hair later that night. He was stirring a pot of fish soup over a flame. It would be dark here soon, and by morning I'd be leaving. I reached up, smacking a mosquito that was hovering around my neck.

I'm a failure I have no right claiming I'm a warlord. Everything I worked so hard for is shattering around me.

'Hmm. I was right to follow you instead of your brothers,' said White Hair, focusing on the boiling soup.

I smiled uncomfortably. White Hair always believed it was his destiny to follow my father's bloodline into battle. I didn't have the heart to tell him he probably made a huge mistake. Reaching into my muddy pocket, I pulled out my map. Brushing the dirt off the leather material, I unfold it to trace my finger over the Ouse River.

'Lord, lord help,' said Fletcher between laughs.

I glanced up to Leif holding Fletcher upside down by the ankles, playfully shaking him.

'Where did you hide my magical axe at, boy. Only the most powerful warriors can wield such powers,' said Leif causing Fletcher to burst into laughing fits.

How are they in such good moods? Scanning over the rest of my warband, I had to furrow my brows. How was everyone so calm and in decent spirits? I led them to this point where it could be our destruction, but they were confident I would succeed. White Hair placed a bowl of fish soup in my hands.

'Eat lord. Your eyes have turned deep blue.'

'My plan might not work. I could be leading everyone to their deaths tomorrow.'

'Hmm. Only the three Norns know the answer to our deaths. You instill confidence into all of us, and for that, we will follow you wherever and whenever you choose.'

I smiled, bringing the bowl to my dry lips drinking the watery soup. How did I impart confidence to anyone? I was a crippled. Prince Alfred had said something among those lines too.

'Lord, the gods, are going to smile upon us,' said Egil taking a seat next to me. 'We've already hit bottom. Nothing else could bring us further down.'

A drop of water struck my forehead. Groaning, I put the bowl down, glaring at Egil for cursing us.

'Everyone bring it in. It's going to be a wet night,' said Leif cheerfully.

My men created a makeshift shelter thatch from branches and leftover sailcloth. We all piled under the shelter sleeping closely together. Skul's back was against mine, and Fletcher had somehow wedged himself against my stomach curled in a ball.

Thor beat his hammer repetitively as sparks of lightning flashed in the sky. The great Ivar the Boneless and his loyal army, the thought evoked a smirk as I let the darkness take over.

I woke up with the warm sun beating down on me, lying on the soft grass. A woman in a strange dress knelt beside me. It was Cara, the slave. She was smiling at me. She reached out, placing her hand gently over my face sweeping some of my loose hair behind my ear. I sat up, looking into her warm eyes.

'Ivar, you need to hurry. The plague is coming.'

She leaned into me, placing her lips softly over mine. Returning the kiss, I brought my hand to the back of her head, deepening it. Cara keeping our lips locked, brought her body down, sitting on top of my lap. She wrapped her arms around the back of my neck. I released the kiss looking into her beautiful kind eyes.

'Cara, how did you get here?'

'Shh.'

'Lord Ivar, I told you I'd grant you that service if you wished for it,' said Skul laughing.

Huh? I looked around, only seeing Cara. Was this a dream? If it is, I don't want to wake up. I tried to hold onto this beautiful, mysterious woman for as long as possible. Leaning in, I kissed her gently. That's all I could remember before waking up with my arms tightly embracing a body next to me.

Wait what?

Snapping my eyes open, I was holding onto a dark-haired woman, but it was not Cara. Skul was grinning like an idiot at me who had one arm wrapped over me and her other hand over my pants. My face heated up, knowing her hand was over my lower portion where my arousal was coming from.

I shoved the harlot off me. Skul began laughing like a banshee from the treatment who stood up, pointing at me.

'Lord Ivar Ragnarsson, you came onto me. Who was I to deny my lord's affection.'

Growling at her sad excuse, I sat up. Most of my men were still asleep, thankfully. The sky was lighting up, welcoming dawn unfortunately, it was still raining.

'Tell anyone about this, and I'll gut you.'

'My lips are sealed, lord. But if you need some assistance with your little problem below, I wouldn't mind,' said Skul winking at me.

I'm going to kill her.

Taking my crutch, I picked myself up, leaving the demented woman while keeping my hand over my pants. Her laughter rang as I walked out of our shelter. This has never happened before in my sleep. Go figure the night I sleep close to people, I don't get any night terrors. However, I get this embarrassing problem. I walked over to the Ouse River, leaning into my crutch and bringing my body down. The gods were having fun with me today. Scooting my body, I carefully dunked myself into the frigid water.

The rain hadn't let up and was showering down on us throughout the morning. I looked over at the ship my oarsmen were loading up. It was most definitely not a warship. A wooden bulky fisherman boat was what we'd use to get into King Edmund's village. There was enough room for twenty rowers plus me, Egil, and White Hair. White Hair got in, taking his usual position by the steering oar. I had a filthy dark cloak wrapped around my body. My men were dressed as fisherman concealing their hair with straw hats.

I nodded at the men I was leaving behind getting into the ship. Skul was staying back to ensure everything went smoothly. Fletcher was staring at the ground, ignoring me. I also made him stay back where I was going was no place for children.

The river's rapid flow pulled our fisher boat out into the current, trying to pull us in the opposite direction we needed to go. The oarsmen fought against the current, pulling their oars together while getting pelted by the cold rain. Egil stood against the prow singing his poems while clapping his palms together in a steady rhythm. To my surprise, the men on the boat began joining in singing loudly as we sailed to the East Anglian King.

I smiled, holding onto the yard rope standing next to White Hair joining in. This caused my men to cheer and sing louder as we sang about some fisherman's favorite whore. A flash of lightning brightened the sky above us. I reached for my Thor amulet clenching my hand over it, sending a prayer to Thor. The thunder god is watching us. He's cheering for us. Our chain mail and weapons remained hidden under the benches and sacks of grain.

Arriving at the docks, I noticed a few stoned buildings. The rest were made of wood. There was a wooden palisade wall placed around the village.

This would be a difficult town to attack but still possible. The streets were deserted, most likely due to the weather. The guards of the village approached us as we docked. Bells were ringing in the distance, possibly from the church. The gods loved me. Upon the guards' arrival, they began leaning over the docks trying to see what we had on our boat.

'Greetings lords,' I said. 'We come from the Fenlands to pay King Edmund our taxes.'

'You're a little late on that boy,' said one of the guards spitting next to me, still staring inside our boat. 'What you hauling in there, boy.'

'Only our yearly grains and tax coins, lord,' I said, stepping onto the docks hunching over.

'Well, let's have a look, boy, open the sacks up.'

I responded with a wheezing cough. Both guards took a step back, holding their hands up to halt me.

'You sick boy!'

'No, lord. Only a little fever has been going around our village. It all started when my Uncle Berch came over to visit us from Norwich.'

'You stay right there, will bring the coin bearer to you.'

I nodded my head watching them run into their village. My men strapped on their chain mail. Egil jumped onto the docks pulling his hood over his head. I grasped his shoulder for a second, silently praying to the gods for my housecarl's safe passage. We nodded at each other before he took off in a dash toward my brothers' camp.

Waving my hand to White Hair, who stepped off the boat. I glanced over at Leif, who took the steering oar.

'Bring the boat back where we came. Keep a lookout for us. Hopefully, I'll return with a king.'

'Yes, lord, White Hair,' said Leif nodding at us as they pulled the boat back in the river.

I walked cautiously into the village, my hand over the hilt of my hidden seax. White Hair followed closely next to me, walking down the abandoned flooded streets. White Hair pointed to my left. Turning I couldn't help but smile. Laced against the front wall of their church were weapons staged and unattended. Most likely, King Edmund was inside there. I waved for White Hair to continue forward. I couldn't burst into the church unless I planned on offering them my head, which I didn't. I needed to corner the king alone. I spotted a huge, stoned building near the village's far end that led to the woods. That had to be the house King Edmund was staying.

Quietly I reached for the door opening it, and walking inside out of the rain. The floor was abandoned, but chatter could be heard from the distance. White Hair began creeping through the hallways eying the rooms to find one that looked like it was the kings.

Stoned stairs stood off to me. I silently groaned to myself. I hate stairs, curse these Romans for making such things. White Hair returned, shaking his head. Great, of course, the king would want to stay in a room upstairs.

Rolling my eyes, I strapped my crutch to my back and dropped to the stoned floor. I began crawling up the steps dragging my legs uncomfortably against the stone. Making it to the top, White Hair reached down, giving me a hand getting up. Walking quietly across the hallway, looking into rooms that could house the king. We came across two rooms that looked as if either could be the king's room. Shrugging my shoulders, we each took a room. Entering a spacious room, I was delighted to see a hearth going in the center of the room, my soaked, cold body welcoming the warmth the flames provided.

Dropping back to the ground, I crawled to the bed, rolling under it to wait. It seemed like I waited hours until a door opened, light footsteps entered the room. I tried keeping my breaths quiet.

This might be the stupidest plan I've ever came up with. I tried remaining positive, but I was worried about White Hair next door. I was concerned about my men, about Egil, my brothers, and my army. Clenching my eyes shut, I sent a silent prayer to the Allfather for help. I wonder how often my father found himself in these situations.

My prayers were answered when the door opened again, and a female voice spoke.

'My lord king, you have sent for me.'

'Hilda, my beautiful servant.'

The chair was pushed against the stoned floor, telling me the king was standing up.

'Shall we continue where we left off,' said the woman's voice.

I wonder what she looks like. If Edmund is about to share his strategies and battle plans with her, I'm the luckiest man alive. Grinning and trying to make as little noise as possible. This is the kind of thing Freydís use to pull on me last year when I was naive.

'My lord king, there is a strange stench in this room. Once we're finished, I'll send for the other servants.'

I leaned into my shoulder, sniffing myself only to roll my eyes. Oh, piss off Hilda, now get him to talk.

'Please, Hilda dear, help me with this.'

My smirk transitioned into a frown as moaning began filling the room. Two sets of feet walked over to the bed, and I seriously regretted the location I chose. Feeling my face heat up as the moaning continued.

Clothes dropped beneath their feet, getting struck by them when the king kicked them under the bed. Scrunching my face, I pushed the discarded clothes off me. The moaning continued, as I stared at their feet.

Wait a minute, that woman has some huge feet. Oh, I need to see Hilda's face now.

If I thought it couldn't get any worst, it did. The couple plowed down on the bed, and every pounce was rewarded with dust from the straw bed blowing in my face. Desperately trying not to sneeze while the couple had sex above me.

Why do I always find myself in these awkward situations?

The woman released a screeching scream causing me to stiffen. By the gods, was he sacrificing her now? The king moaned loudly, and the thumping finally ended. Thank the gods.

Hilda's giant feet became visible soon after I saw her bare knees touch the floor as she reached under the bed for her dress.

Shit!

I reached over, placing the clothing near her hand. Thankfully, she never knelt any further, or we'd both be in for a surprise. One I wanted to avoid because this woman could scream.

The door opened and closed. Smiling, this was my chance now. Rolling onto my stomach placing my hands on the stoned floor, I halted at the sound of sniffing. Was the king whelping like a baby? A loud pound from a hand striking the bed above me blew more dust into my face. What in the nine realms was his problem?

'Lord O' heavenly father, please forgive my sins!'

What. These worthless ass Christians. This man is upset because he just made love to his servant. I swear I'm going to throw my war pick at his face.

'My will is not as strong. I faltered under temptation, please my savior, forgive what I committed. I shall repent for my sins.'

Still frozen in place, I was unsure of what was going on. A crack of a whip slicing through the air, meeting skin caused me to look at the bed above me in shock. The king is striking himself with a whip? I'm so confused. This king is crazy. Unsheathing my seax I rolled out from the bed. The king was kneeling on top of his bed, self-inflicting himself with his whip striking his back.

'Lord king,' I said, grinning as I placed my hand on the bed, helping to pick myself up.

The king shrieked at my appearance, he brought his whip back and struck me on my left cheek. My skin sliced open, clenching my teeth together. I punched him in the face knocking him over. I snatched the whip tossing it across the room while warm blood began trailing down my cheek.

'Heathen! Help the heathens are.'

I cut the king off by grabbing onto his neck and shoving his face into his blanket, muffling the sounds. The door opened, turning to see White Hair. I tied a cloth material over his mouth, silencing the king's cries. White Hair grabbed onto the king, pulling him off the bed and binding his wrist with chains and shackles. I walked over to the window. Taking the rope from White Hair I tied a knot to the window's edge.

We need to hurry. Most likely, someone heard the king's cries. White Hair flung the king over his shoulder. Grabbing the rope, he began hoisting himself down. Footsteps were growing louder outside the room as I strapped my crutch to my back, and I reached for the rope. I pulled myself out the window grinding my teeth having to rely on my upper body strength to pull myself down. The door flung open just as I was midway down, a knight stared venomously into my eyes from the window. Smirking, I continued easing down, meeting the soggy dirt noting the knight was no longer at the window.

White Hair and I made our way out of the village through the woods walking in the river's direction. Panic shouts were coming from the town. I tried quickening my pace through the flooded grass.

My boat ashore came to view. White Hair ran out in front of me toward the ship, roughly dropping the restrained king to the floorboard. Then my housecarl turned back, sprinting toward me. As he reached me, I didn't have time to argue what he was about to do. The beast of a manhandled me, throwing me over his shoulder and running for the boat.

Villagers carrying torches lit started emerging from the woods. They were in close pursuit of us. Reaching the boat White Hair let me down. Leif began commanding our men to start pulling. The villagers and knights were running at us, but the current was already working to our advantage, pulling us back to our marsh. I held their king up next to me, keeping my arm wrapped over his shoulder. I gave his men a mocking bow.

The rain was fiercely striking us, and Thor was slamming his hammer down in all directions. I could see men on horseback and ships getting loaded in pursuit of us a far distance out.

'Pull and keep pulling like you never pulled before in your life!' I shouted, shoving the king to the floorboard.

I picked up an oar giving my men a hand, relieving them briefly for a short period of rest.

'We're now heading for battle, boys. Following behind our great leader Ivar the Boneless, we will be victorious,' said Leif.

Leif was walking up and down the boat as my men cheered. My heart was beating through my chest as the adrenalin was overcoming me. The clouds were getting darker, and soon nightfall would arrive. This was the worst time to battle.

An arrow flew past me turning to see a horseman rider was on our ass. Gritting my teeth, I dropped to the floorboards picking up Egil's bow and arrow. My first arrow missed from the soaked string. My second attempt struck the horse, which ended that pursuit. My men cheered, but we were far from out of harm's way.

'White Hair, when you see the marsh, don't bother slowing down, ram the boat into the shore. Everyone, when we hit land, get into position. With luck, our army is directly behind our pursuers.'

'And if they're not, we're all going to Valhalla tonight,' said Leif followed by his loud, obnoxious laugh.

I wanted to smack him across the face because that was my biggest fear right now.

'Lord to the far right, horsemen,' said White Hair.

I frowned seeing horseback riders in full pursuit of us. We were coming up on the marsh. I just prayed Ubbe, Hvitserk, and King Harald were behind them. Otherwise, just like Leif jest, we would be sailing to our graves.

The impact going ashore nearly threw me off my feet, holding onto the yard rope keeping myself upright. My men began jumping from the ship, running to the raft, and making a shield wall. Fletcher ran toward me, holding my shield in hand.

'Get to the woods, you little shit, and stay far away from this battle,' I said, snatching the shield from my servant.

I shoved Fletcher with my shield in the direction of the woods. White Hair had King Edmund over his shoulders, throwing him down on top of our raft's timber behind the shield wall. I joined them standing behind my men. White Hair stood in the first rank next to Skul and Leif.

When I turned to face my pursuers, my stomach dropped to my feet. Ships and horseback riders were approaching us. I didn't see Ubbe, I didn't see my army, I didn't see Hvitserk, nor did I see King Harald and his army. I had King Edmund's army approaching us my small warband of fifty men and women against over two thousand.

'Lord, where is our army at?' asked Skul.

No, no, no. I tried squinting my eyes for any sign of our army. We're on our own. I failed my men. Clenching my eyes shut, I shook my head, taking a deep breath in and releasing to get my bearing.

'We hold our position here! Shields up!' I shouted, and immediately shields were raised in my two ranks. I walked to the front turning around to face my men. 'Our death comes with a cause. We have brought the East Anglian army to us. Our brothers and sisters can now retreat and escape the plague. It has been nothing but an honor leading you up to this point. If you want to retreat, now is your chance. They will only want their king back along with my head.'

No one moved. No one even swayed. They were all staring back at me with emotion running through their eyes. Not one person was going to retreat. We have all accepted our fates tonight. The three Norns held the shears to our life strings. Soon ours would be cut.

'No one will ever forget the saga of Ivar the Boneless and his courageous warband of loyal warriors and shield-maidens,' I shouted. scrunching my lips tightly together, frowning deeply, I threw my crutch to the side. I'm going to die. I failed, and now my men and women would die alongside me. Unsheathing my seax, I released a war cry banging the long-edged blade against my chest repeatedly. 'Are we afraid of death?'

'No!' shouted my men.

'We do not intend to die in our beds as old men. Victory is all the better when it is hard-won. Valhalla awaits us! The Valkyries will summon us to Odin's Hall!'

My warband cheered, banging their weapons against their shields. I walked carefully between my first and second rank directly behind White Hair.

'This is foolish, surrender Ivar, and I will order my men to stand down,' said King Edmund.

I ignored him, knowing he was only speaking lies. I pointed at one of my men to the oar. He ran over to our discarded oar, stroking it in the marsh pulling us from the land. I put the blade of my seax to my mouth, biting down on it as I bent over. I yanked King Edmund up, unlatching one of his shackles and binding it to my left wrist. He was going to be my shield.

I grabbed back onto my seax, glaring onward at what was to come. I slightly rocked forward a bit as we left the land. Concentrating on what was about to appear in front of us as we heard horses and steel rattling against each other. Floated out into the marsh, I could no longer see the River Ouse. If my army were to come, both myself and the East Anglian army would be caught off by surprise.

The East Anglians began forming into their shield wall over the hill. The commander of their army rode his horse forward, surveying us. He stared at King Edmund for a moment, who was chained and shackled to my left wrist. The commander transferred his gaze to me with amusement in his eyes.

'Ivar the Boneless, I've heard many stories of your battles. My name is Lord Beowulf, and I must say, I did not expect to find you to be so young. You know you can't beat us. For you little crippled pup, I'll make you a truce. I will allow your men to safely retreat to where the rest of the heathen army is. On the terms that you release King Edmund to us, that no harm comes to him.'

I chuckled at his stupid request. Give us safe passage, my ass.

'And you little crippled pup, now you will become my slave.'

What!

The commander Beowulf was grinning at me. I was disgusted keeping eye contact with him.

'Little crippled pup, my men have already been given orders not to harm a hair on your body. Surrender or fight, you will be serving your new king, King Edmund. You will make East Anglia a mighty kingdom with that little mindset of yours. But first, I'm afraid you'll have to be washed before you step foot in your stable.'

'Hey, chicken shit! What you're going to get is my sword through your fat stomach!' shouted Leif in his broken English tongue.

'You will die by my blade!' shouted Skul in our Danish tongue.

His men behind him began laughing. I smirked at them, not faltering from the scrutiny.

'I have no intention of surrendering. If you come toward us, I'll ram this blade through your king's throat.'

'Beowulf do whatever you must but do not surrender to this heathen,' said King Edmund.

I struck the king with the hilt of my seax to his face shutting him up.

'Pup, be careful. I don't want to see any harm coming to my king. I'd also hate to see any harm done to you.'

I gave the commander a devilish smirk and then struck the king again to the face with my weapon's hilt. The commander glared down at me.

'My little crippled pup, I look forward to our time together after this battle.'

Once we get overthrown, I'm going to take my seax and strike it through my chest. I'm not going anywhere with that man. The commander rode his horse to his shield wall. The East Anglian army began banging their weapons against their shields. The wind seemed to change directions, and now the cold rain was striking our backs. Thor was lighting up the darkened sky as he beat his hammer down over us.

'Don't you know who I am?' I shouted at the army. 'I am Ivar the Boneless! I do not fear death but welcome it. You can't kill me. I am Ivar the Boneless!'

'Attack forward, strike down the heathens. Save your king and bring me Ivar the Boneless alive!' shouted Beowulf.

The army's first rank began walking into the marsh toward us. The swamp water came up to their stomachs. The violent rain struck them in their faces. I gripped tightly onto the hilt of my seax, timing is everything.

'Form a circle around me,' I said.

My second rank turned around, spreading out but keeping their shields tightly interlocked with their neighbors. We now had a harden 360 defense around our raft while we drifted afloat. I stood in the center with King Edmund chained to me. The first rank halted their pursuit as they released cries of agony meeting my first trap. The men fell backward in cries as my wooden spikes pierced their feet.

'Archers,' I shouted, 'loose!'

The archers I had hidden uphill shot their arrows to the second rank that had rushed into the marsh to pull the first rank of wounded men back. I released a war cry followed by a laugh banging my seax across my chest as the arrows met their victims.

'I am Ivar the Boneless! You know who I am. You know you can't kill me. No matter how hard you try. Because I will live forever!'

Another rank slowly progressed toward us, choosing to evade where the first rank stepped. They walked further around us.

'Archers, fire!' shouted Beowulf.

'Shields up!' I shouted.

Arrows litter the sky most had missed from the downpour others struck our wooden shields. The approaching rank was close to our raft, holding their shields over their heads. I smirked, throwing my hands forward.

'Ropes, Now!'

My staged men at the four corners of our raft yanked on the ropes hurling up spiked timber latched under our raft. The sharp wood tied together struck out of the water impaling the East Anglians. Beowulf shouted out in frustration.

'How hard is it to kill a few heathens! Save your king and capture that cripple!'

Thor banged his hammer under us as I beat my seax over my chest, releasing another war cry followed by a laugh. I never felt more alive than I did tonight, fumed on adrenalin. I was nearly out of surprises now soon, we'd be overwhelmed, but I had entertained the gods. Thor was cheering for us. We would all soon be feasting in Odin's hall with our loved ones.

The approaching army held their shields over their heads, pushing the floating corpses from their path. The sky was dark; I could barely see anything now from a distance. Our light was only what Thor was providing us. Steel clashing against steel snapped me out of my thoughts. The army was at our raft.

'Keep your shields low,' I said, circling inside my shield wall.

'Little pup, it's best if you surrender now. I wasn't expecting to lose so many men you are quite the strategist,' said Beowulf from a distance.

One of my shield-maiden's released a death scream and a splash of water telling me she was killed. Grinding my teeth, a glimmer of steel was coming towards me. I lunged my seax at the man's wrist, mutilating his sword hand. King Edmund cried as I drug him with me in battle. The man who attacked me fell to his knees, holding onto his wounded wrist. I gave him a merciful death slashing my seax through his throat.

'Tighten the shield wall up,' I shouted. My men quickly followed orders bringing themselves closer to the raft's center. We were heavily outnumbered, and my warband was falling rapidly. 'Are we afraid of death, No! We do not intend to die in our beds as old men and women! But to sup with our loved ones in Valhalla!'

I released another war cry walking around my men, striking my seax through the gaps at the enemy attacking my men. A stabbing pain struck my left thigh. Reaching down, I had been struck by an arrow. Breaking it in half, I pulled the arrow out.

'Allfather, what am I supposed to do!' I shouted up at the sky.

We were being slaughtered. I heard a grunt of a cry turning quickly in the direction White Hair was falling to his knees. A sword was being pulled out of his chest.

'Valhalla!' shouted White Hair falling into the marsh.

I screamed out another war cry taking my position where my housecarl commander had fallen. Hands clasped onto my arms, halting me. I could barely see, but I was pretty sure that was Leif in front of me.

'Lord, we need to go!'

I was shocked. I quickly stared into his eyes. What is he saying?

'Lord, all the men will die if we stay here, we can escape through the darkness.'

'No!'

A painful, heavy blow struck me from the back of my head. A loud pitch whistle overpowered the noise from the battlefield. I fell forward into Leif's arms as my vision started becoming blurry. I opened my eyes the next thing I knew. I was on top of Leif's shoulder, feeling water over my body. We were in the marsh. Skul was behind us dragging King Edmund, and then darkness overcame me again.