Kattegat, this was a dream, but it felt so real as I sat on the sand. I dropped my fingers over the soft soil listening to the crashing waves pounding against the current. The Ancient One sat to the right of me, staring off to the distance.

'Ivar the Boneless.'

'Hello Ancient One,' I said, closing my eyes. 'I feel trapped, lost out in the sea. A part of me wants to conquer all of Britain, and another part wants to overthrow King Harald. Maybe I should. It would make me King of Norway. And that would make me famous.'

The Ancient One chuckled, shaking his head.

'Poor Ivar, connecting nothing with nothing. The day you were born, I read your runes in front of your mother, Queen Aslaug. A sickly crippled newborn boy was crying at my feet. The runes I read made me laugh. How was this child fated to accomplish such things that could only be dreamed possible? Oh, I kept my eyes on you, Ivar the Boneless.'

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

'Why do you always ask? Such knowledge cannot be handled. I cannot advise you, but I will tell you, you've always been unfitted for your fate. To do what is expected, you must reach above and beyond. Soon a snake will begin to nest in your head and cloud your judgment. The name of Ivar the Boneless will be as broken as your bones.'

I shot up awake, breathing heavily. I felt like shit glancing around the room, Cara was nowhere to be seen. The gold and silver were missing.

She left me. Of course, she left me, and I'm such an idiot to think she'd stay. Why would she?

I still had a fever, and even though I just woke up, I was fatigued. The sickness was still affecting me. Getting dressed in my leather and chain mail, I grimaced from the weight. I had lost so much weight everything hung loosely over my small frame. I glared up at the ceiling while braiding my long hair back, tying it loose.

What did the Ancient One mean? By the gods, I hate that sad excuse of a being. I'd kill him now if I could.

Walking out of my house, Egil awaited me by the door holding out a wool cloak.

'Lord, I escorted Cara to a trade ship heading for Ireland early this morning.'

I nodded my head. Taking the cloak, I moved my collar up as I tied the cloak underneath it around my neck. So, she did leave me. It was like getting stabbed, well actually no, not quite that painful. But it still left me in a soured mood. Taking my crutch from Egil, I looked around for Fletcher. Strange usually, he'd be out here.

'Lord, Fletcher's sickness has worsened.'

'What! Why didn't you tell me sooner where is he?'

'He's safe, although his swimming last night didn't help.'

I left Egil walking towards the building that housed the ill. A few mothers were inside, along with a couple of healers. Fletcher laid down covered in fur blankets red in the face.

'He can't travel with you,' said Freydís from behind me.

I turned around, meeting her eyes. She gave me a worried look as she held onto blankets in her arms.

'Why are you here so close to the sick? What about your son.'

'Our son is in good hands with the wet nurse,' said Freydís smiling at me. 'I will look after Fletcher, I promise you, I will.'

Was it possible to want to both hug a woman and shout at her? I turned back to my servant, staring at the rise and fall of his congested chest.

'Please,' I started but lost my words. Freydís understood, though. She placed a hand on my shoulder in reassurance.

'He's in my care, I promise. Ivar you should also look after yourself. You're nothing but skin and bones now.'

I nodded my head silently, saying my goodbyes to the boy. This may be the last time I see him. Children are weak; It's the sad, brutal truth. Once they catch the sickness, it's only about half the time they recover. The other half they are buried with love.

I walked with Egil to my ship. Ubbe, Hvitserk, and King Harald were at the docks probably to see me off. Leif was there standing next to his twin brother. He wasn't dressed in his raiding clothes. He wasn't going with us. All I had left in my housecarls was Egil and Skul now. How had it come to this?

'Leif,' I said, advancing them.

Leif stared at the ground for a moment before meeting my eyes with hatred.

'I'm not going with you anymore, lord, you're too reckless. We should have never fought at the marsh, and you knew it. White Hair died because of your pride.'

I clenched my teeth, adverting my eyes from him walking to my ship.

'Leif, how dare you!' shrieked Skul running off the ship to me. 'Lord, please, he's probably drunk.'

I stopped and smirked, turning back towards Leif.

'Nah, he's not drunk. He means everything, don't you, Leif. Your oath with me is broken. Stay away from me.'

'Lord, Leif, please,' said Egil standing between us.

'After everything, I did for you! You're the most selfish lord I ever served. You're nothing but a child! I protected you through the worst, and you're just going to wash your hands from me!'

I rolled my eyes, spitting down at the dock boards.

'Congratulations for doing your job that I paid you to do. That is what a housecarl does, Leif. Serve King Harald, but if I ever see you on the battlefield, I'll kill you myself.'

Leif wanted to say more but was halted by his brother pulling him away from the dock back to the village. I turned towards my brothers and King Harald. The Norwegian king enjoyed the confrontation I was having with my former housecarl. I'm sure the bastard was. He was probably loving that my protection was getting weaker by the day. Clenching my teeth, I gave Egil and Skul a curt nod to the ship.

'Brothers, King Harald, till I see you in Northumbria, take care. Don't destroy my new palisade walls.'

I grasped hands with Ubbe and Hvitserk while I nodded at King Harald before boarding my ship. Egil pulled up the anchor as I held onto the steering oar. I began guiding my boat out into the river. My oarsmen grabbed onto their oars, placing them into the water. The loud stomping of feet against the wooden docks came in our direction. Looking back, it was Hvitserk. He ran down the pier and just as swiftly jumped onto my ship as we pulled out.

Hvitserk. I smiled as relief rushed over me. I could always count on him to have my back. No matter how much we fought, we were bounded together. He stuck by me at the worst of times. I looked back, smirking at Ubbe, giving him an insulting bow as my fleet of ships followed me. I knew the decision Hvitserk made was a difficult one. He chose to abandon Ubbe and go with me. He left his son and his lover behind to offer his sword to me.

We had sailed through the cold sea for two days before pulling into the Trent River. I took my fleet to Nottingham. I was a man of my word. I had to return the princes to their cow shit of a father, King Burgred.

I had left the princes at Nottingham with my men. Throughout their stay, they were treated as my guest. Surprisingly both boys were upset about returning home. They got a glimpse of our culture and had dreaded returning to theirs. I had taken fifty men with me when we dropped the boys off at the outskirts of their village.

I observed the boys from a distance entering the safety of their village. Nodding my head, I returned to my men as we rode back to Nottingham. I had sent Skul and Egil as scouts for the return trip. We needed to find a place to make camp as it'd be getting dark soon.

'So,' said Hvitserk in a hushed voice. He was riding beside me, holding onto my horse's reins. 'There were some noises, pleasurable noises coming from your house back at East Anglia.'

I glared over at Hvitserk, who was trying to conceal a stupid grin.

'I fail to see how what I do on my own time concerns you,' I said, followed by a wheezing cough.

Hvitserk laughed, shaking his head. I don't want to think about Cara. It still hurt knowing she left me. Skul came back riding her horse towards us and thankfully putting an end to Hvitserk's interrogation.

'Lord, we found a clearing up ahead there's about twenty poachers they're ransacking a nunnery. The building looks ideal to camp at.'

I rolled my eyes. I want to bed down and get warm, not go chasing poachers away.

'Will make camp there,' I said, followed by a sneeze. I turned towards my men. 'Listen up! I will be making camp up ahead at this nunnery. Thirty of you will go with Hvitserk to rid the place of some poachers. Twenty of you will attack with me.'

We lined our horses up along the clearing of trees. Below at the bottom of the hill was the nunnery. I counted twenty horses. I nodded my head at Hvitserk, who charged down the slope leading thirty men in an assault. Egil held onto my reins. I kept my gaze fixated on the attack. The poachers were running out of the nunnery like an angry beehive.

'Now,' I said.

My twenty men led the second assault. The poachers seeing us coming from behind, began scattering in a retreat to the woods. The braver ones stuck around to fight. Hvitserk's loud screams were heard throughout the battle. I glanced over in his direction, smiling. Hvitserk had become a berserker charging at his enemies with both an axe and sword in hand.

Egil helped me get off my horse. I walked inside the nunnery, leaving my men to enjoy their easy battle. The building was quite large and made of wood. The sound of my crutch striking the wooden floorboards alerted the occupants of my arrival. I halted, glancing to my right where women cried in the corner. They were bounded and huddled together. I couldn't see any of their faces, for they were fully clothed. I continued walking further inside, sneezing along the way.

I'll never understand these Christians. Why their god demands no protection, condemning its followers as easy targets. Ignoring the women, I continued walking until a cry stopped me.

A panic scream was coming from a room to my left. Walking towards the screams, they grew louder, and my stomach turned. I knew what was happening inside. Shaking my head, I pushed the door open, unlatching one of my knives. A nun was on the ground with her dress lifted. A poacher was straddling her, clenching my teeth, and threw my knife at the man. My blade successfully struck him just as he looked towards me. Piercing the man's throat, he fell over onto the woman. She scrambled away from him in a sobbing panic.

I walked back out of the room coughing. What was there to say. Nothing. There were no words for comfort of what just happened. I killed the man for her. That's all I could do. The rest she'd have to figure out on her own as I did. I just shut all the memories out and pretended none of it ever happened. My dreams are the only thing that betrays my tactic. They let me know I'm only lying to myself.

Stepping back into the main hall, my men began to walk inside the nunnery.

'Unbound the women but touch none of them,' I said, followed by a fit of congested coughs. Recovering from that attack, I rubbed my chest from the discomfort pain it just experienced.

The nuns agreed to house us and provide us with ale and straw for our horses. I sat down at one of the benches resisting a shiver from my fever. An elderly woman approached me carrying a cup she held out, offering it to me.

'Please, as a thank you for saving us,' said the woman.

I clenched my eyes shut for a second and sneezed. I gave her a small smile taking the cup and sniffing it. That was stupid because I couldn't smell anything even if I wanted to. The elderly lady laughed lightly, patting my arm.

'Oh, dear, it's not poison. It is a tonic made from the leaves outside.'

Cara used to make these drinks, and none of it worked on me. Rolling my eyes, I scarfed the drink down, not wanting to think about her.

'I only helped you because I'm using you for a shelter tonight.'

'Is your name Ivar? Forgive me. I heard some of your men calling you that.'

I nodded my head. I don't see what trouble an old nun could do knowing my name.

'My name is Ivar Ragnarsson of Denmark.'

She did her cross sign over herself. She must have heard stories of me, all of which weren't any good. A wave of drowsiness struck me, finding it challenging to keep my eyes open. The elder nun excused herself. I glanced around, seeing my men walk back in from taking care of the horses. Hvitserk walked up to me smiling.

'You look like shit, little brother. You should rest by the fire.'

'Hvitserk, keep on the alert tonight. We leave at first sunlight.'

Hvitserk nodded while I took his advice and bedded down early.

I woke up to extreme agony in my stomach from cramps. My throat was so damn dry. I sprung up and curled over to ease the cramping. All my men were asleep; I must have awoken in the middle of the night. Muffling a cry, I crawled out from between my men. I need water. As I made it to the door, I began coughing up blood. What was going on? This never happened before. Everything was spinning as I lost all my strength, collapsing on my stomach.

What was happening to me? I tried moving my head to find my brother, but my body wasn't cooperating with me. Two figures started approaching me. Or maybe it was one I couldn't tell from my blurry vision. The person gently turned me over, sitting me up. It was that elderly lady.

She brought a cup to my lips. Thank the gods. I hastily drank it and almost gagged it back up. That wasn't water. It was that tonic I drank earlier. My body was heaving, refusing to take it. The lady placed her hand over my mouth.

'Shh. This will make you feel better.'

I gagged and coughed. My eyelids grew heavy from exhaustion. I could feel my entire body spinning as I laid in the old lady's arms.

Shit.

'Hvitserk,' I said in a weak voice while darkness immediately followed.

I cried out, delirious from my stomach that raged with cramps. I shot up, trying to curl over to lessen the pain. I was on a bed covered in fur blankets. I had a headache pulsing through my head. I was in a dimly lit room alone with Skul sitting next to my bed.

'How long have I been out,' I said softly, grimacing from the pain.

'All morning, lord, please rest some more. Your sickness has worsened. Egil has led a hunting party, and Hvitserk is out placing sentries around the woods. So far, no threats have been reported. I nodded my head as I bit down, scrunching my face. A tremor of cramps struck my stomach. I cried out, unable to hold back. Then coughed in my hands, spitting up blood. What is going on? I'm so thirsty.

Skul jumped to her feet, seeing the blood on my hand. The room was spinning as I tried to focus on her.

'Lord, I'm going to get some more medicine from the nun.'

Medicine, shit.

'Wait,' I said weakly.

Skul had already left.

I woke up sweaty and unsure how much time had passed since I talked with Skul. The elderly nun shook me awake, holding a cup in her hand. I nearly gagged imagining myself drinking that crap again. I tried shaking my head, holding my arm out. The sadist witch just smiled at me, smacking my arm down. I'm too weak even to fight this hag. Is this happening? Is this my fate to be killed by an old nun in bed? Where's my seax? I'll kill myself now or hopefully her.

The lady leaned over me, roughly pushing down on my collar. I cried out, and she took that opportunity to pour the contents down my throat. I tried to spit it out, but she kept my mouth shut and pinched my nose close. I began choking in her grasp as I swallowed. I fought to keep my eyes open from drowsiness.

I'm going to kill her. I used the closeness to my advantage, latching onto her wooden cross necklace yanking her down. The force caused her to tumble over. I never let go as she struggled in my grasp. The witch's struggles became fainter, leading to nothing. My vision was getting blurry. I couldn't control my breathing and ended up losing consciousness with the old hag dead next to me.

No pain, I scrunched my eyebrows, opening my eyes. No pain, I feel great. It was daylight outside. I looked over the room and screamed out. I quickly backed up against the wall from the man sitting in the chair next to my bed. How was this possible? I'm dead because the man next to me was my father, Ragnar Lothbrok.

'Don't tell me that old witch killed me?'

My father laughed, shaking his head.

'No, but I'm sure you can do without that medicine for a few days,' said Ragnar smiling.

I don't know what's going on, but I don't care either. It was him. It really was my father. I smiled back at him.

'I did what you asked me to do. I've used my anger to outsmart our enemies. I've almost conquered all of Britain,' I said excitedly.

My father nodded his head but then looked at me seriously.

'You have, but tell me, are you not satisfied with everything you've already accomplished? What are you fighting for?'

'No, I want to be the most famous Viking that ever lived,' I said honestly.

My father looked down, half smiling at my response. He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head looking back at me.

'Well, there's no question about it. You are my son. That dream will lead to many jealous men that will deceive you and eventually betray you. That is if it doesn't corrupt you first. I look at you, and I see a younger me, Ivar, you will always be in my heart. As your father, I'll give you some advice. If you're trying to win acceptance, love, or happiness, you'll find it neither here nor there. What you do and how you do it will shape our people's future.'

My father began to fade, or maybe that was my eyes shutting.

'Wait, don't leave me again, father.'

'The gods have fated you to wield such power. Not because you crave it, but because no one else can do what you'll be capable of completing. It is not easy commanding people, but it's even harder learning to let people in. This won't be my last time seeing you. I'll be saving your boneless ass a few more times before you come and join me at Odin's Hall. Goodbye, my son.'

I must've blacked out. Opening my eyes, I quickly looked at the chair my father had sat in. He wasn't there, but who was shattered my heart. The tears started pouring down my face as I smiled at mother, Aslaug. It pained me to admit this, but I had difficulty trying to picture what she looked like. Here she was exactly how she looked when I last saw her. She noticed I was awake as she took my hands, cupping them.

'Ivar, you are in grave danger.'

'Mother, I'm sorry for not being there for you.'

My mother smiled sadly at me.

'It was your fate to travel with your father. I was wrong for trying to hold you back. I'm so proud of you.'

I didn't care if I was crying. I had missed my parents so damn much. It hurt seeing them again only to know they're dead.

'I missed you so much since I returned from Britain. I've felt so alone. But you and father are gone. This is just a dream, isn't it?'

My mother stood up, gently leaning over me. She kissed the top of my forehead.

'Ivar, listen to me. You will never conquer all of Britain,' said Aslaug sadly.

'What, you saw it? What can I do to change it?'

My mother cried as she sat down on the bed next to me, wrapping her arms around my shoulders.

'You'll be betrayed, and you'll lose everything. The voyages ahead of you will be long and painful. I wept when I discovered your fate, but it can only be you. One day you will rise again and be crowned the king that you've always been fated to be.'

I shook my head. None of this was making any sense. It's almost like she took the prophecy from the Ancient One without deciphering it for me.

'Mother, I don't understand what you are telling me?'

'To be like the gods, and reach for Valhalla,' said Aslaug looking me in the eyes and kissing my hands.

That was the last thing I remember before everything faded once again.

Shouting, that's what I awoke to this time. Hvitserk and Egil were inside the room now shouting at someone. They were standing next to my bed talking. I tried leaning over to see.

'My poor helpless, crippled brother, what joy it is to see you suffer,' said a voice that haunted me. As if I were reliving a nightmare, I turned over and stood my dead brother Sigurd Snake in the Eye. He was smirking at me with his arms folded over his chest.

'Sigurd, I'm.'

'Save the apologies we all know you truly met to do it. Didn't you boneless,' said Sigurd cutting me off.

'Of course not, how could I possibly mean to kill my brother,' I said weakly.

'Oh, save your self-pity, I'll let you suffer from that. I've been following you around since my death. You know Freydís cheated on you with Hvitserk. They did it on the bed next to you while you were unconscious. Baldur is Hvitserk's son, not yours. And Alfred, really brother that threw all of Valhalla in an uproar. You should've seen how red father got sleeping with the enemy, huh. Oh, and Cara, I got tell you, little brother, you let that one get away,' said Sigurd smugly.

I smiled at his rant. I missed this side of my brother. Whenever I tried to remember him, I always saw his shocked expression from being struck by an axe. Not this side, the side that was a pain in my ass.

'Yes, I know Baldur is my nephew because at that time, remember I wasn't actually a man after all. And Sigurd, no offense, but I'd rather not know what Hvitserk and Freydís did next to me. But may I ask why in Odin's name are you fallen warriors creeping in on my sex life?'

Sigurd laughed at my embarrassment. It's good to know my life is nothing but entertainment to the fallen warriors at Odin's Hall. Sigurd smiled at me, walking through Egil and crouching next to me.

'Just to let you know, if you hadn't killed me, I would've followed you. But it was fate for me to die after avenging our father. Plus, it'd be me with Freydís and not Hvitserk or you.

I rolled my eyes and smiled at Sigurd.

Egil waved his hand in front of my face looking at me worriedly.

'Lord Hvitserk, who is he talking to?' asked Egil.

'Ivar,' said Sigurd. Placing his hand on my shoulder, I stared up into his eyes. That one unique eye shaped like a snake, how I missed him. 'You're living your life for the both of us now. I'm cheering for you over our older brothers. So yes, please keep life interesting, because little brother. You place yourself in the most awkward situations at times. Situations that have all of Valhalla laughing.'

I laughed. Reaching for his arm, we grasped onto each other resting our foreheads against one another.

'I will, I promise. I'll live for the both of us.'

Everything faded to the darkness. I awoke feeling cold, opening my eyes to the blinding sun above me. I was covered in fur blankets lying on the straw inside an open wagon. I could make out trees and my men on horses riding around me. My father was sitting next to me, smiling up at the sky.

'Is this where I die?' I asked, feeling faint.

'Valhalla is not ready for your crippled smartass yet,' said Ragnar laughing. 'So, Alfred huh, Athelstan's son.'

I groaned, leaning my head heavily against the straw, ignoring my father's laughs as he ruffled my hair. I knew the gods watched our battles. But I never gave any damn thought to them creeping in on our personal lives. Everything I do from now on is going to be under the covers.