A high pitch whistling noise was residing in my ears. I tried blinking my eyes to focus on where I was, but everything remained blurry. My head felt like it was split in half. The pain was almost too unbearable, it made me want to puke.

A blur of a woman with long dark hair was in front of me. It might be Skul, but everything was spinning around. I couldn't get my vision to steady.

'Leif, I'm worried about Ivar. He isn't responding to anything.'

Yes, it was Skul. Why was she worried about me?

'We need to try and keep him warm and keep this king quiet. The gods know his army is looking for him.'

I narrowed my eyes as the pain coursed through my head, throbbing. They weren't talking loudly, but it still hurt listening to them. I licked my dry bloody lips, trying to focus on my words.

'I'm fine, I'm awake, where are we?'

'Lord Ivar, please tell me what I can do to help?' asked Skul.

'Where are we? How many of our men survived?'

'He'll be fine. Ivar survived worse than this last year,' said Leif.

What. How many times do I have to repeat myself? Answer my damn questions.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to get my vision to focus. My head hurt so damn bad. Reaching to the back of my head, my fingertips struck warm moisture, coating my hair accompanied with sharp pain. Squinting my eyes, I continued tracing my fingers over my head. There was an indent and something else. My eyes widened as my fingers brushed over a small portion of my skull, it was cracked, and the bone was overlapping. Unable to stomach this, I heaved, puking over myself. While vomiting, I gripped around the outer flap of the bone and readjusted it back to its original location. I collapsed onto the soil letting darkness submerge my senses once again.

Snores. No, monstrous snores. Shit, my head is killing me.

Bringing my hand to my hair I pushed back the greasy, matted mess from my face.

Opening my eyes and squinting from the sunlight. My vision was starting to clear up with objects taking shape. Fletcher was curled up against my bare chest, nesting his head under my chin. Huh, what happened to my jerkin? I kissed the top of the boy's head. Thank the gods he's safe. I didn't have to turn around to know who was holding onto me with those snores. Leif had a death grip wrapped around my torso, using me as his blanket. Well, at least someone was warm, I suppose. Carefully I unwrapped myself from Leif's hold, not wanting to wake him. I sat up, skimming my whereabouts.

We were next to a river in the woods. There was a stoned bridge beside us. Skul sat next to the stream with another shield-maiden cooking fish over a fire. They were humming a song while turning the fish over the flames. My leather jerkin, cloth shirt, and chain mail laid beside them. Eight of my other warriors were sleeping not too far from me. Only eleven survived, and King Edmund was here and tied to a tree passed out.

I glanced around and groaned. My crutch was left at the marsh. Looks like I'll be crawling everywhere. At least I still have my gloves. Rolling onto my stomach, I crawled out from Leif and Fletcher. Skul snapped her attention to me, seeing me crawl in her direction.

'Lord, how are you feeling?'

'Is this everyone that made it out? How long have I been unconscious?' I asked.

My speech was slurred, almost like a drunk man. Skul scrunched up her eyebrows, scratching the back of her head.

'Lord, could you talk in our Danish tongue please,' said Skul laughing nervously.

What. I said that in Danish. What was going on?

'I am talking in our tongue.'

Skul glanced over at the other shield-maiden, who shook her head. They didn't understand me. I know my speech was slurred but was I talking in the English tongue? How was that possible? Maybe from my cracked skull. I hope my thought process wasn't damaged. It's all I have going for me.

Sitting down next to the fire, I hastily put my clothes back on. They were clean, which I was grateful for since I had puked over them. I clenched my eyes shut, hoping for my headache to subside. Soon once everyone wakes up, they'll be asking what our next plan was. A plan I didn't have.

Why hadn't Ubbe and Hvitserk aided me? Was there another obstacle I never calculated? I glared over at King Edmund. Silently groaning, I crawled in his direction. My headache was pulsing with every movement I made crawling to the East Anglian King. I briefly glanced over the king. He was younger than me, probably by a couple of years. I reached over, backhanding him across the face. The king snapped his eyes open from the contact.

'King Edmund, how you choose to respond will entail your safety. How many men do you have guarding my brothers' camp? I fought nearly two thousand. How many were left to besiege my brothers?'

'Ubbe and I have a truce,' said King Edmund. So, I was talking in the English tongue. 'Once my kingdom and Mercia conquer Wessex, I was going to offer East Anglia to Ubbe Ragnarsson. With the condition that you, Ivar the Boneless, swears your loyalty to me and aid us in the conquest.'

What in Niflheim. I held up a finger shaking my head.

'Repeat that. What makes you think I'd ally myself with either of you two.'

'Your older brother Ubbe and King Harald of Norway guaranteed you would.'

This was a lie. It had to be. Ubbe would never agree to such a truce. But why didn't they come to aid me? Over three-fourths their army pursued me. My thousand men with Hvitserk could've quickly broken through the besieging.

'You're lying,' I spat.

Ubbe would've never agreed to such a truce. He was my older brother, my flesh and blood. He feared me, but he'd never forsaken me. King Edmund chuckled lightly to himself. I was about to backhand him again when branches snapping cut me off my trail of thought.

Egil emerged through the woods with a few other warriors from my army. I exhaled slowly, finally some good news.

'Lord, your alive! Skul, Leif, thank the gods,' said Egil running to me, hugging me in a tight embrace.

I leaned into the hug. I had failed everyone. Uncontrolled tears began to fall. I hated myself for being so weak and exposed to my men. White Hair's body was resting at the bottom of the marsh. He deserved a warrior's burial. I had failed because I had relied so confidently on my brothers. Now I needed to step away from them and only rely on myself.

'Egil, I'm happy to see you. White Hair.. I'm sorry.'

Egil, with tears in his eyes, nodded his head solemnly.

'How many men have you brought? What is Ubbe doing?' I asked.

'Lord, I have twenty with me. Over one thousand are at the marsh preparing burials for the fallen. The East Anglians are observing us. That's why I had to slip away with such a small number.'

I nodded my head in agreement. I now had over one thousand warriors. Now was the time for revenge.

'And Ubbe? Why didn't they come?'

'Lord, I tried, but they blew me off saying they were working on a truce.'

Anger began flaring inside me. My brothers had left me to my death. If the plague doesn't kill them, I will.

'Where is the East Anglian camp at now?'

'Not too far from here, lord. In a village called Thetford.'

I pulled out my map, observing the surroundings, and smirked. I was going to get revenge. Revenge that would burn a hole in East Anglia for years to come. I woke everyone up and began reciting my plan as they munched down on fish. I instructed them on what they'd do, and at the timing, they'd start. For some reason, I couldn't talk in my Danish tongue, and my speech was slurry, but Egil was able to translate everything.

'That's all good lord, but there are over a thousand of them too. What's to say they hadn't set up scouts and sentries to patrol outside the village,' said Leif.

'They'll have their eyes on something else. I'm going to offer myself up as a decoy. They'll be busy trying to extract information from me. This will give you guys time to emplace the trap.'

After Egil translated everything, my men were immediately against it. I had to hold up my hand to silence them.

'It is not what I want to do, but what I must do.'

And that is what brought me here alone on this bridge. This was such a stupid idea. Maybe we shouldn't have let the one with a significant head injury make plans. I crawled open and insight for the enemy offering myself up as a sacrifice. I was the bait I knew the sentries would take. It didn't take long to get noticed. Two young guards immediately unsheathed their swords at me. I had to act like the victim, so I trembled back, holding my hands up and begging for mercy.

'It's a heathen, a crippled?'

The other guard approached me, dropping down off his horse crouching down at my face.

'Yes, you idiot, that's Ivar the Boneless!' said the other guard. I allowed him to grab my upper arm, pretending to flinch from the contact. 'We will be rewarded heavily from Lord Beowulf for capturing the heathen's leader.'

And so, my torture would begin. Soon, I'll be seeing my father, and when he asks me how I died, I'll tell him it was because I was an idiot. This was such a stupid plan.

I was to be a distraction to the commander of their army. While Beowulf is concentrating solely on me, my army would be staging a solid attack that would slaughter them. I was harshly dragged into Thetford's village and dropped in front of the man calling the orders, Beowulf.

The commander sat on what would appear to be a throne. Interesting, and I'm an idiot. Why didn't I take notice of this sooner? It explains why we weren't heavily pursued. Beowulf wanted to rule East Anglia.

'My lord, we bring you Ivar the Boneless, commander of the Great Heathen Army and a son of Ragnar.'

'My little crippled pup!'

Beowulf jolted out of his throne, walking toward me. The guards kept my arms restrained, which was probably good because I would've probably killed myself now, or him. Beowulf reached for my chin, so playing the helpless victim, I flinched back in fear shaking in their hold. Beowulf grinned down at me, snatching my chin and forcing me to look him in the eyes.

'My little pup, I told you not to fight me. Now, look at you. You got yourself all wounded.'

I acted frightened in his hold, shaking and keeping my eyes to the ground. Beowulf's grin widened further at my submissive behavior. Soon the interrogation and torture would begin. That is if he wanted to find King Edmund. I just needed to withhold for a few days while my men prepared the trap.

I was drug to a dark room that looked like the place I'd be tortured. I inhaled and exhaled evenly, trying to prepare myself. The guards forced me onto a chair where I was restrained.

Tools laced the interior walls of torture devices, whips, and blacksmith crafts. A hearth was going next to me. A man walked into the room with Beowulf. He was a Saxon with a large underbite and an older muscular man who gave no appreciation on his appearance. He snatched the front of my matted hair, pulling my head back eying my throat.

'My little cripple pup, you may feel a slight pain,' said Beowulf in a roar of a laugh.

I cautiously stared at the two rods pulled out of a pot over the hearth. I was shaking in the grasp of the East Anglians. The two bars were each holding onto a piece of heated steel that was curve-shaped. They brought the bars down, and in a fluid motion, the heated steel was enclosed around my neck.

Death screams escaped from me, feeling my skin being burnt by the steel. Tears streamed down my face. It was hard to breathe, and the smell of my flesh being burned almost made me faint. It hurt to swallow. It hurt to breathe. I'm going to suffocate right here.

I tried reaching for the steel, but the guards still had a restraint on me. Beowulf was grinning down at me. Clenching my teeth, I took in shallow breaths. I will not allow him to break me. Allfather, I swear to you this man will die by my hands.

I was abruptly yanked off the chair and stripped of my clothing. The guards held me up in front of Beowulf naked, even my leg braces laid against the stoned floor. The commander walked around me, tracing his fat fingers over my chest and back tattoos. My throat and neck were in so much pain being displayed were the least of my attention. A rope was tied around both my wrist.

What were they planning? Allfather, please, give me your strength.

I was tied to horse and drug across my naked back through the town streets. I tried keeping my damaged head from the ground, but it was nearly impossible thanks to my burned neck. Beowulf walked beside me, holding his arms up in praise. A damn crowd of villagers and his army were surrounding me, applauding and striking me with rocks or spitting at me. The sharp stones underneath me were slicing into my skin. I wanted to cry out, but my blistered swollen throat prevented that.

'May I present to you, East Anglia's newest slave. Ivar the Boneless! Soon will have King Edmund back with us.'

The crowd cheered as I continued getting dragged throughout the town by my wrist. Afterward, I was thrown into a steel cage inside the stables where the livestock was housed. Naked and cold from the early November temperature, I curled up into the straw.

I remained in this cell for three nights. The swelling around my throat and neck from the steel collar started shrinking alleviating the difficulty breathing. The town priests kept trying to interrogate me on their king's whereabouts. I had told them he was dead killed in battle.

By the fifth day, I was wrenched out of my cage and carried to a huge, stoned building. What was going on? This wasn't the interrogation room where I received this awful collar. This would most likely be the living quarters where King Edmund would stay. I entered a huge vacant room and was chained from my collar to the bedpost, where I was dropped on top of a bed.

Once I was alone, I reached up, snatching onto the chain, trying to break it free.

Shit. I need to get out of here. I glanced around the room for anything to help free me. A metal rod next to the hearth stood in the room's center. That might work to pry this chain free.

Dropping to the stoned ground, the chain rattled at my movement. Crawling to the rod, I reached out when the door swung open. My chest fell at the sight of Beowulf. He was grinning. Seeing what I was trying to do, I backed up into the bed from him.

Well, here comes the interrogation.

'My little pup,' said Beowulf laughing. 'Is it true, King Edmund has fallen in battle?

I shook my head with joy, watching the disappointment wash over his face.

'I am curious. A fire broke loose in the woods outside this village. You wouldn't know anything about it, hmm, little pup?'

I shook my head again. That's my army today's the day I defeat the East Anglian Army. My revenge is about to happen.

Beowulf started approaching me. I was done playing the hostage. I reached for his leg, trying to off-balance him. A sharp pain struck the back of my skull, nearly paralyzing me as everything became blurred.

I was picked up off the ground like a discarded item and dropped on top of the bed. The ringing blared in my ears once again. Fighting the dizziness, I tried rolling away from him, but he kept me pinned down on my stomach. His arm pressed down onto my mid-back, keeping me firmly held against the bed.

His sword was placed on the bed next to me but too far from my reach. The noise of the movements and how he had me positioned struck true fear in me. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to prepare myself for what was to come mentally. My collar was yanked by the chain, forcefully bringing me up against his fat chest. His beard brushed against the side of my face, and his warm breath was striking my ear.

'You belong to me now, Ivar the Boneless. And you're going to make me a mighty king.'

I kept my focus on the fire as he took me. I never experienced what I felt today. A part of me had shattered. I could numb out the pain, but I couldn't numb out being used like this. This haunted me in my sleep for years to come. Warm fluid was trailing down my inner thighs as I shook.

The door swung open, and my nausea rose being humiliated and exposed in front of an audience.

'Lord Beowulf!' shouted a male voice from the doorway.

'Dammit, can't you see I'm busy extracting information from this heathen,' shouted Beowulf getting off me but keeping his arm pressed against my back.

'My apologies lord, the fire out by the woods. It was a trap the heathens are here.'

Beowulf growled, snatching a handful of my loose hair and turning me over.

'Is this your doing, pup?'

'No,' I said, faintly shaking my head and shutting my eyes, barely keeping them cracked open.

Beowulf grinned at me, turning to the guard. He released his arm off me, dropping to the floor to get his pants. I quickly used the disarray reaching for his sword. I had the blade against his throat.

'Little pup, careful.'

'Shut your mouth! You,' I said, pointing at the guard in the doorway who was reaching for the hilt of his sword. 'If you alarm anyone, I'll have my men kill your king, and I'll kill this worthless piece of shit. Grab my belongings. All of my belongings!'

The guard stormed back out of the doorway. I kept the sword firmly pressed against Beowulf, glaring down at him.

This fat piece of worthless shit. Killing him would never be enough for what he just did to me.

The ringing in my ears was replaced with the crocking of ravens. My father's translucent form appeared on the other side of me, staring down at Beowulf.

'Ivar, I swear spare my life, and I'll make sure you are returned to your brothers safely.'

'What part of shutting your mouth didn't you understand. I don't want to hear your voice. I don't want you anywhere near me.'

I kept Beowulf pinned to the bed holding the blade of his sword against him. Shouts and screams were emitting from outside. My army has arrived at the village gates. The fire was a distraction. One Beowulf felled to notice due to being preoccupied with me. His army had walked into a trap that costed them their village. The guard ran through the doorway carrying my clothes and leg braces and, to my surprise, my crutch as well.

'Unlatch the chain from the bed,' I said.

The guard rushed to the bedpost, undoing the chain.

'Now get me dressed.'

The guard followed my instructions while I kept the sword lodged against his commander. After my leg braces were lastly strapped on, I ordered him to bring me my crutch. Replacing the blade with my seax.

'Leave us,' I said to the guard.

Hearing the door shut, I frowned at the fat piece of shit beneath me. He quivered in my grasp. The screaming was intensifying outside from my army. We have taken over this village.

My father crouched down next to his face staring venomously into his eyes.

'For what you did to my son, I will draw a blood eagle on your back. Your ribcage will spring apart,' said Ragnar and I in unison.

I was in a trance the words left my mouth, but I didn't choose them. I was mainly being overcome with disgust and ashamed someone else's fury had started igniting inside of me.

The door burst opened.

'By the gods' lord, what did they do to you?' said Leif.

I never turned to face him. Instead I stared motionlessly at Beowulf.

'Bring him to the center of the village,' I said in a monotone voice.

I got up, following my father as if I were being possessed, we headed outside. It hurt to walk after all this time crawling, after what was done to me. Stepping outside, my army had the East Anglian army stripped of their weapons and armor. They were huddled together.

Leif and Egil followed behind us, dragging Beowulf. Skul had King Edmund restrained. I glared at him briefly for employing such a coward as his commander. All the villagers were forced out of their homes and to the streets.

The villagers thought it was amusing to watch me get drug around naked. I hope they find this just as funny.

I pointed to a table to place Beowulf. He was pleading for mercy. I'm sure those pleas will intensify here shortly. I held my seax in my hand, walking to the East Anglian army commander.

'East Anglia behold your new warlord, Ivar the Boneless,' I said, tearing the jerkin from Beowulf's back. 'Everyone will watch! Oh, King Edmund, I've accepted your offer to serve East Anglia. You see, I'll be conquering all of Britain, and you'll be swearing your allegiance to me. Tie his arms down.'

My father pointed at the lower section of his back, guiding me to start there. Not waiting for him to be fully restrained, I jammed my seax deep into his back and brought the blade up. His screams were filled with agony. The villagers were crying and pleading. Children released terrifying cries. All while I hacked at his back with Leif's axe breaking his bones. Warm blood was misting over my face.

Blood and death, it swirled within my vision. A sword being impaled into White Hair his blood leaking out of his chest when the blade was wrenched out. The beast of a man falling to his knees while he held onto his wound. My friend's blood was pouring down his dying body.

'Valhalla!'

White Hair losing the last of his energy, collapsing into the marsh.

The flashes of Thor's lightning revealed bodies that littered the raft. The fallen warriors and shield-maidens were slain in battle. A few were floating in the marsh itself lifeless with eyes opened. Rainwater mixed with our blood was soaking the wooden timber while the never-ending army kept attacking us.

Being pinned against the bed as this man forced himself on me. Making me feel so ashamed and disgusted with myself.

The sound of ravens croaking and wolves howling was all I could hear, tuning out everything else. I tightened my grip over the axe's handle as I broke the last bone. His lungs expanded out of his body into wings. My father gripped his hands around Beowulf's throat smashing his face against the dying man while screaming at him.

Someone placed their hand on my shoulder, causing me to flinch back, breaking out of my trance. It wasn't my father who had gripped Beowulf's throat, but me. I stepped back motionless, wiping some of the blood from my face with my arm.

'Hang him in the center of the town. East Anglians, I hope you enjoyed the entertainment tonight,' I said, walking over the king with bloody hands. I performed the Christian cross sign over him, smearing the blood. 'King Edmund, I'll be leaving half my army here. In two weeks will be talking of a truce. Until then, God bless.'

I wasn't able to sleep that night. I had a servant prepare a bath. I practically scrubbed my skin raw. My housecarls tried asking me what happened, but I lied, telling them he welded a collar to me. For now, I'd have to leave the steel collar on until my skin underneath healed.

By first daylight, I'd be riding with half my army to Ubbe's camp. I frowned at the thought of my brothers. I will never forgive them for what they put me through.