'This is so adorable. He's amazing with children,' whispered a female voice.

Oh, shut up and leave me alone, or I'll show you how adorable I can be. Giggles and whispering that's what I woke up to. Keeping my eyes shut, I ignored the giggling as I held onto the feverish toddler girl in my arms. It has been six weeks since I executed King Edmund. As we moved the settlement in one of the villages, we took over next to the Ouse River the plague struck us. Most of the young children became ill with fevers. The adults were safe from the sickness except for one very special exceptional young man. And I swear once this sickness leaves me, I'm tying Fletcher to the prow of my ship. The little shit coughed in my face, and a few days later, I fell ill.

Opening my eyes squinting from the bright sunlight, I groaned, picking my head up to glare at the shield-maidens and mothers. There were about twenty of them huddled near me talking their nonsense gossip. I'm dying, and they found me adorable. The little girl in my arms tightened her grip on me, releasing a congested cough against my chest. I put my head back down, rubbing the girl's sweaty back. I had Fletcher and two boys his age curled up on my right side and two boys on my left a few years younger.

Cara knelt by my head, placing another damp rag on my fevered forehead.

'Lord Ivar, I promise you're not as bad as the children,' said Cara in the Irish tongue.

'I'm dying. Whatever happens, keep Hvitserk and Freydís far away from me,' I said in a broken Irish tongue.

Cara laughed, shaking her head.

'Lord Ivar, this is nothing like what you endured last year.'

Woman, I'm dying. I released a congested cough wincing from the pain in my chest. The children began coughing, following my lead. I've been in bed long enough, and Cara's tonics weren't working. Sitting up, I placed the toddler where I had laid. Covering the child with a blanket, I crawled out from our makeshift bed.

'Lord Ivar, you need to rest.'

I rolled my eyes, waving a hand dismissively at her leaving the building that housed the ill.

Great, it snowed last night. Groaning silently, I placed my hands on the icy snow dragging my body to the blacksmith's house. My hands slushed through the snow bringing a burning sensation through my fingers of the cold as my pants got wet.

I need to get this damn collar off me.

My army was bowing their heads or waving as I crawled past them while Ubbe and King Harald's men were quickly getting out of my way. I was the warlord of this army, and everyone knew it. Those who never fought behind my banners feared me while my loyal ones respected me. Entering the forge, two of my warriors were there standing idle. I smiled. It's time to get this stupid collar off.

I screamed out in agony as the chisel struck my collar and the impact struck against my throat. I'm almost positive I'll be bruised all around my scarred neck by the end of today.

'Ivar? Shouldn't you be resting?' said Ubbe, stepping inside the blacksmith's shop.

'What do you want,' I growled out in frustration from pain and sickness coursing through me.

'Ubbe, I don't think anyone can come close to releasing screams as terrifying as your brother can. Who needs a horn blast when you have him in your ranks? Ivar Lothbrok, you have most of this village on edge, like usual.

I cried out from another impact against my throat. Clenching my teeth, I glanced over at my brother and the Norwegian king, who were both giving me amused looks upon entering. I imagine it was quite a sight they weren't expecting to see. My screams were probably ravaging throughout the entire village. I was lying on top of a table with two warriors standing over me as we tried prying the steel collar from my neck. We've been at this for a few hours with no luck.

I had my war pick handle wedged under my collar as one of the warriors struck the collar with a chisel and hammer. I screamed out from the painful impact. Ubbe and King Harald walked over, leaning in to inspect my collar. King Harald tapped on the steel shaking his head.

'This steel is dense. You'll probably end up breaking your neck before you remove this. Especially with your fragile bones.'

'Did you both come here to gawk at me or to give me a hand?' I said, growling, followed by a wheezing cough.

'Hah! I see your mood along with your sickness still hasn't improved,' said King Harald.

The war pick I was holding shifted, and the collar dropped low. I hastily moved out of the way from the chisel coming down. Ubbe had halted the strike holding the man's wrist. I cried out in irritation, scowling up at the warrior.

'Alright, that's enough,' said Ubbe snatching my war pick from me and yanking it out from under my collar. 'Both of you men, out.'

I clenched my teeth, annoyed at my brother. I sat up, imagining nothing but harm to befall him. This stupid piece of metal needs to come off. It's humiliating walking around as if I'm someone's possession. I am Ivar the Boneless, not some slave.

'Ivar, the collar isn't even that bad. If anything, it'll protect your neck in battle.'

I glared over at Ubbe. The only reason I have this stupid collar is because of him. After everything I sacrificed for him still, he treats me like shit. Scrunching my face and tightening my hold over my steel collar, I stared down at him.

'Oh, if the collar isn't so bad, how about.' I cut myself off, falling into a coughing fit. This damn collar is not helping my already irritated throat.

'Some of the children that had sickened are starting to recover. That slave of yours is good at making those tonics. She's a beauty too,' said King Harald.

I snatched my war pick back from Ubbe, tossing it up in the air and catching it. Staring King Harald in the eyes, I pointed my war pick in his direction, threateningly.

'If you touch my slave, I'll be leaving East Anglia as a king.'

King Harald laughed loudly. If only he knew I was serious.

'Ivar Lothbrok, I'm going miss having you around when I leave for Norway. Being around you is like dancing around a fire. I can see why most of the army fears you.'

I gave him a sarcastic smile. Why are these two even here? We had been avoiding one another for the past few weeks. It was a great thing we had going on. Why ruin it now. I glanced over at Ubbe.

'Oswald, he seems like a decent choice for a puppet king good picking brother.'

'I would not have had to appoint a new king if you would've controlled your anger,' said Ubbe frowning at me.

I rolled my eyes. Bodies, that's what I saw when I shut my eyes. My warriors and shield-maiden's dead around the marsh. White Hair falling into the swamp. Bishop Heahmund's sword on King Harald's belt. My breathing became elevated that it was becoming difficult to breathe. Beowulf was roaming his fat fingers over my bare back and thighs. What he forced me to do and how he forced himself onto me, how he made me weak and pathetic, what kind of man allows any of this to happen to them. I put on a blank expression shutting everything out and glancing over at Ubbe with a forced smile.

'None of you have any room to judge me. Especially since you both have only been present for a couple of battles,' I said and pointed my war pick at Ubbe. 'How many times are you going to allow the Christians to trick you, hmm?'

'King Edmund only wanted to protect his people. Even you could respect that. This is why it's called negotiations and not being tyrants. If father were alive, he'd be disappointed with your actions.'

'I'm pretty confident father would be proud of everything I accomplished,' I said snidely, spreading my arms signaling East Anglia.

Ubbe shook his head, glancing at King Harald and back at me.

'Ivar, this will be our people's new home. How we build a relationship with the Christians will be judged years to come. The effect may not have anything to do with us, but it will affect the future of our people.'

I exhaled roughly from my congestion. Always peace with this guy. I swear if my parents were still alive, I'd inquire if he were actually related to me.

'Fine Ubbe, I'll tell you what I'll do for the negotiations with King Æthelred and Prince Alfred of Wessex. I'll bring a bunch of monks over singing their Christian songs before we negotiate a truce.'

Ubbe smirked at that remark as he walked up to me, invading my personal space. He reached out and held up my silver cross.

'Are you a Christian now?'

I exhaled my congested breath roughly while rolling my eyes.

'I can't deny that the Christian god does exist. I believe in all gods, even god Ivar,' I said with a smirk. I couldn't resist the last part. King Harald chuckled while Ubbe didn't find it amusing. 'Can I help you two with something? As much as I do dread these conversations we have together, I'd rather spend my time elsewhere.'

'Why are you choosing to go to war with Wessex? We must focus on peace.' said Ubbe staring me dead in the eyes.

'I never wanted East Anglia! I wanted to invade Ireland. But I'm here due to other people's decisions!' I shouted, banging my war pick on the table and then pointing it in Ubbe's direction. 'We have control thanks to me of Northumbria, Mercia, and East Anglia, it was all my strategies that ensured this. We need to conquer Wessex, or there will be retaliation. Wessex will be difficult as all the Saxon warriors north will be conjugated to Wessex. The Scots, Irish, and Britons might help them because they're also Christians.'

'This is what I'm getting at. We should have made peace. East Anglia was our chance, and you destroyed it. They will seek their revenge for how you murdered the East Anglian king. We cannot.'

I rammed my hands over the table, interrupting him.

'We cannot make peace! You do not corner a predator and expect its forgiveness. I never wanted to go to war with Wessex. But here I am thrown into other people's ambitions.'

'Says the ever-ambitious Ivar Lothbrok. An ambition that can get you killed one day,' said King Harald.

Ubbe gave me an upset look, but what else was expected. King Harald nodded at him, and they both put their gaze back on me. Something wasn't right. I could feel it in my gut. What was I missing?

The door swung open, glancing over Hvitserk bolted through. He looked angry as he walked towards me. Great, what did I do now? He stopped positioning himself between me, Ubbe, and King Harald. Hvitserk placed his hand on the hilt of his sword. What was going on?

'Ivar, I'm happy to see you're out of bed and raving devastation as normal,' said Hvitserk in a cold tone with his back towards me. 'Ubbe, King Harald.'

'Hvitserk. I'll never understand why,' said Ubbe quietly while turning toward the door walking out of the building followed by King Harald.

What in the nine realms just happened?

'You should sleep, little brother your eyes are blue,' said Hvitserk, not looking at me as he left.

Yeah, sleep was the last thing on my mind. I need to get away from Ubbe and King Harald and quick. That meeting could've been my death if it weren't for Hvitserk. Of course, the cowards would wait till I was sickened and weak to attack me.

The door opened again, but this time it was Egil and Skul who walked through.

'Oh, our fearsome lord, what can we do for you?' asked Skul, giving me a mocking bow.

I was sitting at the table, ready to throw my war pick at her.

'Go back to your Yule celebrations.'

'But Lord Hvitserk said you asked for us, lord?' said Egil.

Something was going on. Hvitserk was arming me up. I'm too damn sick and weak for this drama. Releasing a congested painful cough, I spat out mucus. Groaning, I wiped my mouth, looking at my housecarls.

'Get my ship back into the river. Rally up a thousand loyal men and have them get their ships ready for departure. After the Yule ceremony will leave for Yorvik.'

They nodded their heads, leaving Skul halted at the door staring back at me with a troubled look.

'Lord, Leif, he's been.'

'I know. He is free to choose who he wants to serve as are you both.'

'I will never abandon you, lord!'

I smiled, nodding my head watching her leave. Leif had spent most of his time with Gerlak and King Harald's men. I couldn't expect my housecarls to serve me forever. Soon they'd want to settle down and start a family. Remaining under my banner meant being thrown into battles and leaving your home for months.

As I directed, our ships were anchored in the Ouse River loaded with barrels of salted meats and ale. I was taking a thousand men with me to make a stronghold in Yorvik. If I was correct in my speculation, King Harald has been poisoning my brother's ear. If they were planning a rebellion, they'd have to try and fight me on my battlefield. I knew Northumbria best. Northumbria was my kingdom.

The next day, I observed the palisade walls walking through the snow, double-checking for any weaknesses I might've missed. Ubbe and King Harald's men were wary as I passed them, but I chose to ignore it. The light shuffling of snow alerted me of someone approaching, turning it was King Harald and Hvitserk.

'Ivar Lothbrok, we heard you're departing for Yorvik tomorrow.'

I turned away from him, staring back at the walls and walking along with the timber.

'Yes, I will leave after the Yule celebration. I need to maintain a presence within East Anglia, Mercia, and Northumbria.'

'Brother, you're still ill. Nothing is going on in Yorvik. They're too afraid to attack us.'

'At the first sign of weakness, there should be a rebellion because Hvitserk, that's what I'd do. So yes, I need to return to Yorvik.'

'God Ivar, allow me to give you a hundred of my best men. Their great warriors to travel with,' said King Harald.

I waved my hand at the offer looking over at them. Hvitserk had once again stood close, placing himself between King Harald and me.

'That won't be necessary. It's just as important to keep a strong force here,' I said firmly, stepping away from them.

I continued walking around the entire village, running my hands over the walls verifying everything was good. I coughed, feeling my chest tighten. My crutch slipped, and I fell to the ground. I clenched my teeth as my legs spasmed from the rough landing. A shadow fell over me. Grabbing my crutch, I picked myself up to see Freydís. She had a fur cloak wrapped around her body, looking at me with a worried expression. Her son wasn't with her, was he ill? Cara would've told me immediately.

'What.'

'Ivar, you haven't seen us in almost a month. Do you not care for your son?'

The things I could say to this woman. Squeezing my grip on my crutch while clenching my teeth, I stare at her.

'What is his name?'

'Baldur like the beloved son of Odin,' said Freydís smiling at me.

'Huh, I would've liked him to been named Loki if we were going that route. Like the trickster god,' I said smirking, looking Freydís in the eyes with nothing but pure hatred. 'Tell me Freydís, who killed Margrethe?'

Freydís took a step back, widening her eyes as her mouth dropped open. That's what I thought. She didn't need to tell me the proof pointed directly at her.

'We don't know she was found outside the gates of Yorvik dead from multiple stab wounds. The feast tonight, Ivar, you've been so distant with everyone. I know it'd mean a lot to your army and brothers if you were to attend.'

'Freydís, I know my men, and I know my brothers. So why in Odin's name are you telling me what to do?'

There it was again, her shocked expression. I wasn't the same man I was when she manipulated me. Freydís wanted power. Me being the most powerful man here, she was hoping to win me over. That attraction ended a long time ago. All I saw in her now was my brother's lover.

'There will be a chair at the front of the hall for you at the feast to join us.'

I laughed at that response.

'There should be a chair at the front for me regardless of if I show up or not. I'm the one and only true leader of the great army. If it weren't for me, King Harald would've left you guys a long time ago and took Yorvik for himself. If it weren't for the large amount of food I sent here, this settlement would've starved before I ever arrived. If it weren't for me sending the Mercian army back west, Ubbe and Hvitserk would've succumbed to King Edmund's demands. So yes, the most important man in this invasion should have a chair awaiting him at the front table,' I said, smirking at the last part and walked away.

The feast would be starting soon, not that I had much of an appetite. Heading to my house, I frowned at what was ahead of me. Fletcher was outside when he should be in Cara's care. Grunting from the pain in my legs, I walked or more so dragged my feet across the snow in his direction.

As I got closer, he was in the company of two other boys his age. Funny how Fletcher somehow became the leader of their little pack. My Mercian servant had claimed his authority over the two Danish boys. I chuckled but stopped when I saw him holding a cup of ale. He had his back turned towards me, but I'm sure his two friends were informing him of my arrival. Just as he turned around with his stupid one-eyed grin, I reached down, smacking the cup out of his hands.

'Lord! It's for, uh for the pain in my absent eye.'

I growled at him trying to put the guilt on me. I swear I'll take his other eye.

'Aren't you supposed to be celebrating your Christian holiday today, in sobriety?'

Fletcher grinned at me, reaching into his pocket and showing me an amulet. In the palm of his hand was a brass Thor's hammer. I smiled and couldn't be prouder of him.

'You should be wearing it around your neck. So, Thor knows you're honoring him.'

'I don't have a chain yet, lord.'

I smiled, nodding my head for him to follow me. We walked to my ship, where I loaded all my plunder onto. It was starting to get late as the sun was going down. The feast probably already started. Oh well, so I'll be a little late. Getting onto my ship, I walked the boy over to one of my chests, pointing at it. He began jumping around, running to the chest falling to his knees, and digging through my wealth.

I left him walking to the prow, observing my oars, making sure everything was ready for the departure. My thoughts were interrupted by a splash of water. Turning around, I no longer saw Fletcher. Panic flowed through me as I leaned over the ship. Fletcher was splashing his arms in panic.

Shit! How did he fall? I took my eyes off him just for a moment.

I leaned over, grunting from the pain of putting down too much pressure too quickly on my legs. I picked up the rope of yard. I walked over to the center mass, tying one end around the wood and the other around my belt. The splashing of water halted, and I wasted no time throwing myself overboard.

I lost all my breath as the cold December water struck my skin. I snatched onto Fletcher, who had begun to sink. Making contact with the boy, he latched his hands viciously onto me as I started pulling myself up with the rope. With our heads out of the water, air never felt so great. Fletcher held onto the back of my neck, wrapping his legs around my torso.

My hands ached from numbness as I used all my upper body strength to climb up the rope. One hand over the other while carrying Fletcher. I couldn't control my breathing and wanted to let go desperately. One hand over the other, I kept pulling myself out till I reached the edge of the ship. Grabbing hold, I pulled us over onto my boat. We laid there for a moment, gasping heavily, soaked, and coughing.

'Remind me,' I said through a shiver. 'To have Egil teach you how to swim this spring.'

With teeth chattering, I reached under a bench pulling a cloak and wrapping it around the boy's shoulders. We walked back into the village, where I ordered him to change out of his soaked clothes. Trying to keep my breathing steady, I walked to the hall my army was feasting at.

Entering a hall during the Yule feast late is one way to make a presence. Entering the hall and being the most important warlord soaked and stumbling inside was another thing. Immediately a massive outbreak of commotion spread through the hall.

'I'm fine!' I shouted, halting my men from coming towards me. 'I was trying to clean up for the celebration. Please give me some room in front of the hearth.'

Walking to the center benches, I would eat with my men next to the warm flames. I scanned the hall's front, and sure enough, a vacant chair was there. Hvitserk, Ubbe, and King Harald sat closely at the front of the hall. They seemed to have been in an enticing conversation before I showed up. On Ubbe's right was his new wife Torvi, on Ubbe's left sat King Harald, and beside him was Hvitserk, who sat close beside Freydís. An empty chair laid at the end of the table.

I raised my eyebrows and shook my head at the arrangements. At the end, huh, I rolled my eyes. I sat down at the hall tables in front of the fire instead. Cara came over, handing me a tray of food and ale.

'Thank you, please grab yourself a tray and sit with me,' I said in a broken Irish tongue.

Cara giggled quietly, following my orders and doing just that. I knew she laughed because I probably butchered her language. Or it was my accent. She said I had a thick accent while I spoke her tongue. It was perhaps the same with the English tongue, and no one ever told me that. That would explain why I was constantly repeating myself. Huh, I had a thick Danish accent.

Ubbe stood up and gave the yearly feast speech for the gods. We all slammed our cups against the table repetitively in appreciation. I didn't care if Ubbe gave the speech. It saved me from having to stand up. I leaned over, unlatching my right leg brace only to be rewarded with water gushing to the floor. Cara looked over at me with sympathy.

'Lord, please allow me to get you some dry clothes.'

'No, stay, sit,' I said in her Irish tongue still. 'Call me Ivar, not lord. I never want to hear you call me lord again.'

After the feast, I asked if Cara could prepare me a bath. I thought it was funny because I was getting ready to release her to freedom. This was how we first met the Irishwoman who stole my heart. Cara had prepared the bath, thankfully heating the water. Stripping my clothes off, I brought myself into the tub, leaning my neck against the boards. Closing my eyes, I breathed out in relaxation.

'You are a free woman, Cara of Ireland. You may leave my service. That chest on the table is filled with gold and hacksilver. It's yours.'

I laid back, keeping my eyes close for a moment. I never heard the door, so I opened my eyes. Cara stood in front of the tub, unstrapping her dress and letting it fall to her ankles. Her body was small and perfect, and she was perfect. Cara pushed her body up over the tub getting inside with me. She placed her legs between mine, resting on my lap facing me.

'You don't have to,' I said nervously, knowing my fever-ridden face was red with embarrassment.

'I want to, as a free woman, Ivar,' said Cara in her Irish tongue. She began tracing my scars that covered my body, naming when they happened and who inflicted them. A sword wound to my ankle from Fletcher's father. Two arrow scars on my thigh from the marsh and the attack at Yorvik. A deep scar over my abdomen from King Æthelred's seax, and a scar over my shoulder from his sword. The burn scars under my collar. A scar on my cheek from King Edmund's whip. She placed her lips softly over my cheek, kissing the last scar.

'I. I never uh.'

'Shh,' said Cara leaning over and gently placing her lips over mine.

I leaned in, deepening the kiss bringing one of my hands up her lower back tracing my fingers over her skin to the back of her head. I kept my other hand on her leg, lightly massaging her skin. Cara moaned, and I bit my lip as she grabbed hold of me. She pushed her body against me while we kissed. I gasped in the kiss as I made love for the first time with a woman.

We had laid in bed together, and besides my fever, everything was great. I couldn't remember being this happy before as I held onto Cara's body in her sleep. Maybe she will come with me back to Northumbria. I was thinking about the future as I welcomed rest.

'Goodbye, Ivar of Dublin,' said Cara's voice faintly in my dreams.

Where was Dublin? The Ancient One's laughter rattled distantly.