I dipped my quill into the ink, sketching onto the parchment different war strategies. It had been seven days since I attacked the Northumbrian villages, seven days since I stepped foot outside my small Roman house. I had no interest in interacting with anyone here in Yorvik. My servants brought my food and ale though I hadn't had much of an appetite. I spent days here gazing over these maps writing everything down, circling ideal battlefields.

There was some disturbance going on outside my door, and my housecarls were telling someone to fuck off. I shook my head, placing my attention back onto the map. Just as I put the quill's tip down, my door swung open. Startled by the entrance, I smeared what I was about to point out.

Frowning, I stared venomously at the intruder. Magnus ran towards me, dropping to his knees.

I swear if his uncle doesn't kill him, I will.

'I'm sorry, brother, but King Hvitserk is requesting your presence.'

My housecarl rushed in, grabbing Magnus by the shoulder.

'Lord, I'm sorry,' said the shield-maiden.

I snapped my finger at her.

'What part did you not understand about no one is to enter, hmm?'

'Brother, King Hvitserk is demanding your presence,' said Magnus.

I clenched my teeth, placing my quill down. Who in Odin's name is he calling brother?

I reached for my crutch, standing up, moaning from being seated so long my legs ached at the sudden movement. I wrapped my wool cloak on, fastening it under my steel collar and pulling the hood over my head. I picked up a letter stuffing it in my pocket. I walked over to Magnus, standing but still being restrained by my housecarl. I leaned in towards his ear.

'I take orders from no man regardless of their status or relationship,' I said. Pulling a knife out, I held it up against his ear. 'Don't ever call me brother again because all I see is a weak Christian.'

'You are my brother, I realize you're used to being the youngest son of Ragnar, but I'm his son too. I'm your brother, and I'm a pagan. I believe in the old gods.'

I shook my head. My Mercian servant was more of a Dane than this Saxon.

'It seems your hearing isn't any good. Maybe I should cut off your ear,' I said. My housecarl forced his head down against my table, and I grabbed his ear and placed the tip of the blade against his flesh.

'Oh Jesus Christ,' screeched Magnus.

I smirked, removing the knife. I waved my hand, so she held Magnus upright. There was a dark color around his pants of being soiled.

Hah.

'The only reason you're alive when you first entered my village was that you may be useful in the future. Not because of family lineage, not because of Ubbe or King Hvitserk, but because of me. I'm going to give you some advice. Stop saying you're a son of Ragnar. How often do you hear me say it, hmm? I'm Ivar the Boneless. That's all I ever claim. My power and reputation come from me and me alone.'

I stepped out of my house with my hood up, concealing my identity. That tactic was a waste because all eyes watched me as I walked out. Most likely, everyone was curious of Magnus's fate would suffer storming into my house. As I walked to the hall, anyone in my path quickly cleared out of my way.

Stepping inside the warm hall, I took my hood off. Hvitserk sat at the table with Bishop Wulfhere and Freydís, who carried her son in her arms. I gave Hvitserk an insulting bow standing in front of them.

'It's good to see my little brother is well. You've been hiding inside your house for a week.'

I rolled my eyes.

'I've been keeping myself busy with other things.'

Hvitserk nodded his head.

'I have some information you may find interesting. My scouts have spotted King Harald's men pulling from East Anglia and sailing east possibly back to Norway.'

'Well, maybe he'll get shipwrecked,' I said, raising my eyebrows smirking.

'I've also noticed that your ship has gone missing. To include Leif, Skul, Egil, Gerlak, and that Saxon servant of yours and few other men. My men told me they observed them loading a vast amount of barrels on board.'

'I'm aware, they parted with my permission.'

'But to where and why?'

What is this an interrogation?

'I sent them to find Floki's new land. It's my belief if it's good land, some of our people may like to settle there and will add to the defenses of such land.'

Freydís smiled at my response, placing her hand on Hvitserk's hand nodding her head. Well, I'm happy I got her damn approval. Hvitserk eyed me for a second before nodding his head as well. Why in the nine realms am I being questioned. I've kept to myself, and this puts everyone in suspicion.

'I hope Floki found good land. Ivar, if he has, would you go there?'

'Rest easy big brother. I'll stay here conquering Britain in the name of Odin.'

I knew that response was not what my brother wanted to hear.

'Lord Ivar,' said Bishop Wulfhere in his annoyingly nasal pitched voice, breaking the tension my brother I were having.

'Yes, Christian,' I said in the English tongue.

'I have received news from the villages in northern Northumbria. The Scots have been invading and stealing their livestock.'

I raised my head, looking up at the ceiling, smiling.

'Finally, something worth my attention,' I said, bringing my gaze back to the front table, changing to my Danish tongue. 'I'll go scout it out, oh and Magnus. Tell him to take this letter and deliver it to his uncle.'

I handed the letter to one of my housecarls so they could walk it up those forsaken steps to them.

'Why are you having Magnus go to Mercia they could kill him?' asked Hvitserk.

'I'm simply telling his worthless cow shit of an uncle to pay me the taxes come spring, or I'll rip the child from out of his wife's belly. And I had to clarify that the child is not mine because I never had sex with the royal harlot. And on that matter,' I said, glancing over to Freydís and smirking. 'Freydís exactly who's the father to your son? Because I know I never had sex with you either.'

I turned my gaze over to Hvitserk with a devilish grin. I winked at him, turning around and leaving the hall.

I need to get away from these people. Every moment I lingered around them, I began debating on stabbing myself in the chest with my seax. There's half a chance I could go to Valhalla for it. I thought about this long and hard.

I assembled a small scouting party of thirty men. We prepared a ship; it wasn't my beloved ship, but she was a warship. Better than the usual trader, merchant, and fisher ships, she was a longboat that housed fifteen oars on either side. We boarded, and I took my usual spot at the steering oar. My housecarls sat down on the rower's benches, grabbing onto their oars.

We cast off the lines raising the anchor and pushed her out into the river's strong current. I had the sail rolled up, letting the current guide her along the channels. Our shields were placed on the outermost stakes displaying my banner colors. It was vital for me to make a presence whenever I could. The cold water beat against my ship's planks, and the frigid breeze assaulted my face as I held onto the steering oar.

I took her up north. I had planned for the trip in total to be about five days. Five beautiful days away from Yorvik, away from the army, and away from all the responsibilities. I couldn't stop smiling, rowing away from Yorvik. When I first sailed with my father, I was deathly afraid of ships. Now I couldn't wait to get on one. Getting on a boat meant new beginnings and time away from home. We rowed out to sea for two days bringing me close to where my father had first arrived in Britain all those years ago. The bells chiming off to the distance told me they saw us, and they feared us the stupid monks'.

We went ashore shortly after passing Lindisfarne. The Kingdom of Alba that housed the Scots lied ahead. We were a scouting party, so I paid a village close to lend us their horses. One of my housecarls took my horse's reins as we rode up into Scot's territory.

There was a reason the Romans decide not to advance any further, whether it was because they didn't want to fight them or because of the high hills and rough terrain that'd make poor farming lands. Not while you had warmer, richer lands in Wessex. I found Scot's camp. It wasn't that far from Northumbrian's borderlines. They had around two thousand men for this battle.

I smiled, counting over the men as I laid down in the snow. Judging by their numbers and the amount of food they brought, they'd be invading here onto my lands soon. I nodded at my housecarls as we quickly left the location and sailed back south to Yorvik.

As I estimated, we returned in the evening of the fifth day. The sun had already set, but there was still a shadow of light. I couldn't decide if I wanted to eat or get out of these wet, cold clothes and warm up. Tired-eyed, I got off my ship, leaving my men to tie her down properly. Some of my men came running towards me.

'Lord Ivar, we swear we didn't know what was happening until it already took place.'

'Lord Ivar, we have the people responsible imprisoned.'

I had scrunched my face up, frowning and not understanding what was going on. I followed them into the village. Was there another rebel attack so soon? Was anyone hurt? Were my defenses damaged? I was a nervous wreck thinking the worst till I saw what my men were trying to tell me.

In the center of the town stood my belongings burnt and destroyed. My chariot that Floki had made for me was destroyed. My horse was slain lying next to it. My statue that my men lead by Leif and Skul made for me coming back from Mercia burned down. My house and the only house were destroyed, and anything inside was desecrated.

My village had grown silent as I walked up to my house. Everything was turned to ash and burned. All my maps I spent countless hours on destroyed. Anger was brewing inside of me. It seemed like every time I tried to take a step forward, I had to crawl two steps back in swamp water. I did not have dry, warm clothes to change into, nor did I have a warm hearth awaiting me.

Groaning silently, I walked to the church. The stoned building was abandoned, but it was clean and would do for tonight. I walked in and noted there were tons of parchment and ink off to the side.

I'm going to soak this Christian building of my heatheness because it's housing me tonight.

I started the hearth getting close to the flames. I had passed out unsure when, but I woke up covered in fur blankets wrapped over me. My housecarls were denying anyone inside the church.

That morning I restarted everything that was loss. I quickly had tried to rewrite what I could remember important details that would be the most beneficial. To my surprise, the doors opened. Hvitserk, the negligent traitor that stood by, allowed this to happen. I returned my gaze to my maps and parchment, hastily writing down my strategies.

'There's been talk amongst the army about your judgment. We should make peace and release Ubbe and Torvi,' said Hvitserk.

As usual big brother, that is the wrong advice. I continued sketching over my map, not making any moves to acknowledge him.

'Ivar!'

I rolled my eyes, setting my quill down and looking at my brother.

'I'm handling it, brother,' I said, returning my focus to my maps. Loud footsteps approached me, and before I could prevent it, ink spilled over my maps, and the parchment was flung across the platform I stood. This is the second time my work was just destroyed. I stared into my brother's eyes with a murderous look to rival his.

'How so?' asked Hvitserk, challengingly.

'Be very careful how you talk to me, brother,' I said slowly.

'Why, are you going to throw me in prison too?' said Hvitserk shoving me in the chest and storming out of the church. I smirked, shaking my head as I watched him leave. If only the idiot truly knew. Because yes, I most definitely would if it came to it. I stared back down at my ruined maps. And it's coming to it.

I had stayed in the church till mid-afternoon. I was distracted by my work upon hearing screams and shouting throughout Yorvik. My housecarls had brought forth the men who destroyed my belongings. About thirty of them had gathered in the church.

I set my cup of ale down, standing up as my men held the captives in front of me.

'Warriors and shield-maidens, I'm trying to conquer this land. Quickly and effectively protect our people, you and your families, from the Christians who wish harm to us. My interest has always been for our people's best, and every time it seems I attempt to move forward, I come back to wreckage. I've sacrificed so much for you, but still, you hate me, you don't see me as your warlord, you deface my image, you destroy my belongings, why, you may speak freely, please?'

My captives looked hesitant, staring back at me in unsureness. A moment later, a man stepped forward close to me and spat in the center of my face. My housecarls immediately restrained him. I laughed, shaking my head staring him in the eyes with a spat-covered face.

'You are no warlord. You're a tyrant. You slaughtered our brothers and sisters without justice. You force us to obey you. We have no voice here. It's Ivar's way only. Lord Ubbe and King Hvitserk are the rightful leaders of this army.'

It was like getting stabbed, but instead of attacking my flesh, they went straight for my pride. A woman stepped forward, finding her confidence.

'Prince Ubbe never forced any of us to do anything. We were all free people. You have us as slaves.'

There were shouts of agreement followed by words of tyrant spoken throughout the group. I could never understand why did these people hate me so much. I have sacrificed so much for these people, and yet they still treat me as if I'm a monster. I smiled and nodded my head.

'Thank you for being honest,' I said. Then I looked towards my men. 'Take them to the dungeons with their warlord, Ubbe.'

I chuckled as my men dragged the captives out of the church. I glared at my ruined parchment Hvitserk destroyed. Shaking my head, I left the church. I walked over to the center of the town. To my annoyance, the army was avoiding making eye contact with me. They quickly moved out of my way. I stopped in the center of the town, motioning everyone to come forward. Slowly the army began to gather, probably unsure of what I was going to say.

'My people, I have returned from our northern borders. The Scots have been attacking our villages. Tomorrow morning I'll be taking a large army to chase these Scots off our lands. I realize I may not be the easiest person to talk to. I've heard you are tired that you want to make settlements and farm. To have a simple life, but know I forced none of you to get on those ships and sail west. You chose to come to lands that haven't been conquered. You chose to be Danes. I've fought in every battle since coming out here three years ago, every battle that's been victorious! We can't have simple farming lives until we make a strong imprint. So, I ask of you, stay loyal to me, and I'll take care of you. I'll give you reputation, and I'll make you wealthy with rich land. Tonight, we shall have a feast, will make a sacrifice to Odin. In the morning will go into battle with the Scots and show them what it means to face off in a shield wall of fierce Danes.'

After my speech, I walked toward the hall to get a damn meal I've been deprived of. By the gods, I missed my housecarls, but I'm happy they didn't witness any of this. I sat at the far end away from Hvitserk and his woman. Magnus returned that day. He stood in front of us bruised and bloody but all in one piece.

I smiled, clapping my hands. How unfortunate he's still alive the gods truly must love him.

'Magnus, how did your dear uncle respond to seeing you?' I asked, grinning.

'How do you think he responded. You know when I was being tortured, I began to think you expected them to kill me. That you didn't even care if they did,' said Magnus breathing heavily, pointing an accusing finger at me.

I resisted rolling my eyes as I slid my steel collar around. You want to know torture. I'll tell you all about suffering.

'Oh, I knew you'd return if you continue sticking around. You'll get used to it. But tell me,' I said, waving Magnus over next to me. He walked over to my chair, and I placed my arm around his shoulder, leaning into his ear with a lowered voice. 'Did you piss yourself this time?'

'You're a piece of shit,' said Magnus shoving me off him and walking over to Hvitserk taking a seat next to him.

I chuckled, shaking my head. Ah, the idiot will do perfectly.

'Welcome to the brotherhood. You'll get used to Ivar keeping you in the dark and putting you in these types of situations. Because all Ivar cares about is Ivar. It's Ivar the Boneless against all nine realms,' said Hvitserk in a drunken slurry voice.

I smirked at my brother's accusation. I would've shot back a remark, but my housecarls arrived holding onto Torvi, Ubbe, and Egbert. I grinned, standing up and walking to them, silently wincing as I made it down the damn steps.

'Ahh, my favorite older brother, tell me. Are you enjoying your stay here,' I asked, chuckling in front of him.

'Ivar relea.'

My housecarl's placed a cloth over his mouth, silencing him.

'I'm sorry, brother, I don't think you're in an obligation to be demanding anything. You tried to banish me, which would've left me to my death, remember. I'm leaving for battle tomorrow against the Scots. So, will be feasting, but I promised our gods and the Great Army a sacrifice to Odin. Now it has to mean something to us a great sacrifice to make it count.'

I unsheathed my seax as I walked in front of Ubbe, tapping the edge of the blade against the side of my face pretending to think. I grinned widely, giving Ubbe a shocked expression. I turned my gaze over to Torvi, chuckling lightly as I sheathed my seax. I held up my hand, grinning morbidly.

'Tonight, you three will be my special guest for the feast. Please wash up before the feast.' I said walking away from them.

That evening true to my word, we had a sacrifice feast. The central hearth's flames were going robust, flickering and cracking every time oil sprayed on it. Long tables were lined outside around the fire, each table filled with roasted meats, bread, cheese, and ale. Ubbe, Torvi, and Egbert sat tied to their chairs in the center, heavily guarded by my housecarls.

The fire was far larger than usual, but I was burning my statue and chariot to finishing the job. Hvitserk and Freydís sat in the front uncomfortably. They had no idea what was going on. Hvitserk may be wearing a crown, but he holds no power. It was all an illusion I gave him. Bishop Wulfhere was standing next to Egbert, holding his hands and praying with him.

The army was feasting, but they were unsure of what was about to happen. Gripping tightly onto my crutch, I walked out to the front of the fire, unable to conceal my smirk. My housecarls followed me out, circling me. The drums began beating to a steady rhythmic beat.

'My people, tonight we have a great sacrifice for our Allfather. These are the rebels who conspired against me. These are the warriors and shield maidens who would betray us!' I shouted, pointing towards my guards. 'Bring out the sacrifices!'

My housecarls walked out, restraining the prisoners I had interrogated this morning. They were shackled and chained, looking frightened and pleading, begging for mercy to Ubbe and me.

'They're not traitors. Those are Ubbe's men, hail Ubbe, hail Ubbe!' shouted a shield maiden in the crowd.

Other warriors started joining in shouting hail Ubbe.

Clenching my teeth, I nodded my head at my housecarls that were already walking towards the rebels.

'Take them away!' I shouted over their chants.

My housecarls started disbursing the rebels.

'These are the traitors who destroyed all my battle plans that I had mapped out. The traitors who are possibly conspiring against us. The traitors who probably took those maps to King Æthelred of Wessex. To persuade them into attacking Yorvik. Thank the gods I'm here to oversee what could've happened. I sacrifice these traitors in the name of Odin. I sacrifice them to cleanse the Great Army of its corruption, of its deceit, and its treachery!'

The prisoners were shouting as my housecarls drenched them in pig's oil, soaking their clothing. I chuckled while Ubbe and Torvi's muffled cries traveled from behind me where they were restrained. Bishop Wulfhere's chanting prayers grew increasingly as nearly a quarter of the army pleaded for me to stop.

I tightly gripped my hand over my crutch as I waved my other hand forward, initiating the sacrifice. My housecarls had nailed the prisoner's chains next to the fire. They pulled and cried when my housecarls walked up to them with a lit torch setting their clothes on fire. The flames immediately engulfed the prisoners due to the oil. Their shouting became deathly screams as they burned alive in front of us.

I'll never understand why I did what I did. If I thought the marsh and Beowulf haunted my dreams, this had nothing on it. Tonight, I became what I always feared I'd be, a monster. I was filled with rage and jealousy, and I was overly exhausted from expecting betrayal. If I tricked my army into fearing me, I had hoped my fate wouldn't happen.

I don't know how long I stood there. It seemed like time had slowed down as the flames were put out and grey smoke raised in the air. I felt like I was lost out in the sea, far from everyone. I walked over to Ubbe. He gave me a murderous look. Whatever facial expression I wore faltered, taking a step back.

That was a stare that Ubbe would kill me. I was a monster, and Ubbe was going to kill me. Clenching my fingers into a fist, I glanced over to my housecarls.

'Take them back to the prison,' I said.

Gray smoked clouds, and silence filled the streets of Yorvik that evening.