Strong cold gales whipped the slopes of Kattegat, blowing through the stifling streets of the city to the hall amidst all of it and the extension Lagertha had decided to build to show that Kattegat was the core of the kingdoms of Denmark and Sweden. Only a few kingdoms still resisted to Kattegat's influence aside from the north of Sweden, the kingdom of Upsal and king Adhils and all the petty kings of Norway, not that those kinglet and sea lords mattered anyway. The great kingdom of Denmark was nobler, much more ancient and full of a golden glory. It was there, in Seeland, in the middle of the Kattegat sea that stood the ancestral hall of kings, burned many times, rebuild and burned again. It was there that stood the stronghold of Denmark.

Now the core of the kingdom had moved and it was closer to enemies that before and parcels by parcels the armies of Kattegat conquered the surrounding kingdoms and built walls to protect themselves. King Horik once sat in Seeland. His sons would have sat there had they not died and the hall had burned long ago.

Everything changed in Denmark and the tumulus of the kings of old were but small bumps on the earth. Everything changed, ephemeral, nothing remained but embellished tales.

The wind blew all, from ashes to wood to ships. The wind swept off the past to make place for things anew and a future to settle. The wind was like time: merciless.

Bjorn was sitting with his two elder sons and his child daughter around a small table set behind the public space of the great hall. He had moved back the thrones where they once stood before Aslaug's reign, just as if he was still a boy small enough to sit on his father's lap. Melancholy drove him, but also a will to be greater than his father, hence his project to build a taller, greater hall than this one. He would keep it though, just a reminder of old times, of Gyda and Thorunn; a reminder of what his father sacrificed for greatness.

Just as his incredible mother, and just as his legendary father, Bjorn was born for greatness.

"I went to the seer's house today." said Torvi, clean and almost divine dressed in a cream dress, her hair braided around her head like a crown of some sort, her ears and neck adorned with jewelry. "He told me something I think will please you." she carefully said, weighing her words, eating slowly as elegantly as possible, just as she often saw Aslaug do when she was still alive.

Bjorn grunted and almost smacked the table with his fists, still angered with the seer and his old prophecy. "What of it?"

Torvi kept her cool and calmly looked at him. She had been abused by a husband once, she could be frightened no longer. "It is about your sons."

Bjorn's face suddenly grew calmer, more tender even. "What of them?"

Torvi ate another piece of lamb and chewed it slowly. "I went to him for news of my son, Guthrum. The seer spoke in riddle but I understood what he was saying and I know that Guthrum is well. The seer told me that his name would reach centuries. I was very much pleased." she said.

Bjorn almost gave a cruel laugh. "Guthrum is not my son."

Torvi's eyes grew dark and a red anger colored her face. "He is! You took me in your bed and under your hall! I may be but a second wife, a mere concubine, but Guthrum is my son! You took him under your hall too by taking me! He is your responsibility just as he is mine! Never forget what your mother said about him when she finally gave him back to me after you refused I took him with me! Never forget that you tore me away from my son for years. Lagertha said when she gave him back to me that he was your son now."

Bjorn threw his fork and knife away, almost frightening his other daughter while his sons were playing with the bones of the lamb. "Is that what it was all about?" he nearly roared. "Were you so eager to tell me he is my step-son, to remind me of my mother and her stifling, or were you just jealous of my first wife! Were you so keen on belittling me in front of my children tonight?"

Torvi gave a bitter laugh. "No. But you did not let me finish."

Bjorn rolled his eyes, just like his father once did. "Finish then."

Torvi gave a smile. "The seer told me of Erik and Refil in such a manner I was led to believe that our sons will be great kings."

Refil left the bone he was playing with and looked at his mother with excitement while Erik carefully stared at his father, looking in his old eyes any sign of anger. Torvi gave the youngest of the two a gentle smile and wiped off a piece of mashed carrot from his face.

"What did he say?" asked Bjorn as his daughter played with a knife on the table.

Torvi ruffled Refil's curly blond hair and gave Bjorn a scornful look before she sipped a bit of mead. "The seer's words are unclear most of the time. What he said to me was that one of my son will carve his name in the trunk of a tree taller than Yggdrasil across a troubled sea, he told me that the other will be crowned with seaweed and rule over Aegir's realm and that another like him will be crowned with gold and set two tall trees deep into the ground whose roots will be made of gold and whose leaves will reach a silver sky. My sons will be great men. Just as great as their forefathers."

Bjorn looked pleased with the news and looked at his sons with pride. At eight, Erik was already tall and wise and Bjorn had never been prouder, Refil, at seven was still a child and he cared more about playing and pretending he was a viking than learning how to rule. He often went by the sea and marveled at the constant stream of ships coming in and sailing away. Bjorn was proud of his sons, truly. He was proud that their future would be so bright.

He still didn't know where he stood in all that though. He longed to be a king and he longed to raid. He had a foot set on land, and another set in the water. As soon as power would be secured in his hand, Bjorn would set up a new raid and be a viking again. He promised it to himself.

"And me?" asked the daughter. "My brothers have everything and they are kings, but me? What am I?"

Torvi gave the girl a gentle smile. "You will marry a rich prince and you will give him sons to be proud of. You will grow up wise and beautiful and you will be spoken of all across the known world. Your sheets will be made of silk and you will be dressed in gold."

"Did the seer see that?" asked the girl.

Torvi gave a sad sigh. "No. He did not speak of you. That is merely the fate of women. It is always the same." she gave Bjorn a look of contempt. "It will always be the same." her voice was bitter and raging.

"I don't want to marry." said the girl. "I want to be like grandma! I want to be like Siggy! I want to be with Siggy!" she ordered.

Bjorn's face grew dark and full of ire. Erik quickly took Refil by the hand and they both ran to play as far as possible from Bjorn, leaving their sister there, amidst their angered parents.

"You do not want to be like Siggy." told her mother. "She is ill mannered, unrefined and has no sense of honor. You will not be like her."

"You will marry one day and make your people proud, do you hear?" said Bjorn, hardly calm. "You will grow up a princess as you ought to be and you shall never unsheathe a sword."

"I don't care." said the girl, crying. "I want to be like Siggy! Siggy is beautiful and she gave me a knife to play with! Siggy is my friend."

Bjorn violently stood up and exited the room with loud angry strides. He slammed the door behind him and Erik shielded his brother from his father's wrath. The daughter cried at the table, not understanding why they were all so angry. Siggy was also angry, but she was also her friend and once played with her. Siggy hated her, but she had never shown cruelty.

Torvi bent over to her daughter and wiped off tears from her hazel eyes and red cheeks. "If you want to be queen and remain a queen, never anger a man." she advised. "And I do not want you to get near Siggy. She is dangerous and her influence would but compromise your future. Do you understand."

The girl kept sobbing five year old tears. "But I wanted to be a king. I wanted to be a Valkyrie." she whined.

"Gyda." said Torvi with a sigh. "My sweet daughter, let me tell you something that you shall remember all your life: women are not free. There will be chains around your neck all of your life and men will pull over those until you fall and bleed." her face grew sad and bitter. "Women are not free. They will never be."

That said, Torvi stood up and left the room for the thralls to clean the table and put the children back to bed. Women were not free, Torvi knew from experience. Even as a shieldmaiden, under the protection of the high queen, Torvi still lived under the rule of a man. She deemed she had had enough husbands in her live. If Bjorn divorced her, as she feared, she swore never to marry again, to take back her dowry, her father's lands through her bow and arrows and to finally be free like Lagertha had been in Hedeby. She would take her first son and he would inherit her lands and finally, Torvi will be a slave of men no longer.

It was better to be a free woman than a queen.

Summer was warm in Northumbria. It was a fruitful and prosperous land, perfect to farm and perfect to plunder with its slow fat inexperienced warriors. When they were once a people of raiders and conquerors, they were now peasants just as weak as the Britons who dwelt there before them and later retreated towards the ends of the island to hide behind mountains and an ancient wall. No one heard of them. They became ghosts coming out of the mist to curse the raiders, to cast spells on them with their old gods, their strange blue bearings and the power of a multitude who had dwelt on the island since it thrust out of the sea.

Time was ever changing. Now it seemed that the masters of the island would change and those bearing the ropes of power would soon fall for other conquerors to rise. It was the fate of the island; a perpetual conquest.

The regular raids thrown against the Northumbrian towns had been just as fruitful in putting fear back into Saxon minds. Once they feared the name of Ragnar Lothbrok and bells rang for years with fear, now they rang for his sons and the plunder they inflicted upon the country, once again. The old ones spoke tired of these old times they feared the name of a man and lived in anguish, the others who had not known this age of fear and who had been raised in time of peace now understood fear for the first time. It felt a repetition of events that would never stop. The old ones had used all their fears now, now they just accepted fatality. Northumbria was once again threatened by Northmen, just like they were decades ago.

Sometimes, the sons of Ragnar threw several raids at a time, often at night, often when the Saxons prayed. Siggy led her men at night and hid during the day. It felt as though she was back in the skin of a wolf. The raids were quick and full with death and terror, with wails and tears and suffering, and each of them made Siggy feel like a dishonorable woman. There was no glory raiding, more fighting in a shieldwall during a real battle.

Siggy roamed the camp that day, trying to avoid Horek's eyes, while Angrboda was tending Ivar's legs. Gye was walking with her and Guthrum followed.

"I cannot help thinking about what if he found me." she said.

Gye gave a groan. "Then he would take you to Bjorn Ironsides and you will abide by his law and that of Kattegat. You will become a princess and nothing else."

Siggy looked at her with angry eyes. "I do not want to be nothing else. I want to be free."

Gye shrugged. "Your freedom doesn't concern me. I am merely following you because I know I will kill Horek if I ever see his toad face. His whore of a mother has already stripped my mother of my father's fortune and I know he will kill me to inherit all. I know he believes he has power over me as my kinsman and I know he would marry me for less than even a chicken to some brute who could abuse me all he wants. Horek will never hesitate if it meant I weren't free anymore. He would hesitate even less if it could bring him wealth in the process."

Siggy scoffed. "Your freedom doesn't concern me either. He can marry you all you want, you can always crawl away digging deep into your husband's flesh. You can always kill him."

"You can always kill Horek." suggested Guthrum coldly. "It will not be the first time a sister turned on her brother, nor the first a kinsman would kill his."

Gye turned to him with angry eyes, shocked that he dared suggest such a thing. "I will never murder. I know what happens to the sister in those stories. She is killed."

"She is killed because men are afraid of women of power. It happened with Alfhildr and it happened with Brynhildr." grimly said Siggy. "Women are not allowed crowns."

Guthrum threw an apple away. "Siggy." he purred as he wrapped his hands around her shoulders and breathed in her ear. "I promise you will always be a queen to me. I promise you every crown. I promise, my sweet, sweet raging thing that I will never part from you. My angry love." he slowly kissed her neck and Siggy almost moaned against his groans.

Siggy giggled. "In this land it feels like your promise could be true. Give me lands to rule and I will make a great warlord. After all, many great queens dwelt there long ago, like that woman they speak of, Kwenthrith, and the other one, Boudicca."

"You have heard their stories?" asked Gye.

Siggy shrugged. "I overheard them when I was young and wandering by the harbor of Kattegat. It made me dream." Siggy shrugged. "Not as great stories as ours though. I much prefer those about mighty Valkyries and draugrs."

"Still, Horek is a threat." Guthrum said. "So long as he is here, no one is safe. It is like having one of Bjorn's eyes look at you."

"Even if he is here, he couldn't possibly return to Kattegat to inform his master, no?" asked Gye.

Guthrum nodded. "No." he said. "Even if it is Winter, he would still walk till he whispered news that Siggy is here in Bjorn's here. Horek mustn't know she is here."

"Why did he even come?" groaned Gye.

"He is a spy." said Guthrum. "He will do what spies do and observe for Bjorn. Officially, we are here to feed the ranks of the great army, unoficially, we are here to keep the sons of Aslaug from growing more important than the son of Lagertha."

Siggy scoffed. "Good luck with that. Ubbe and Hvitserk are already conquering large parcels of land south of England."

Sigurd came out from behind a tree, whistling a song he had been working on for a week. "No." he said with a joyless grin. "Ubbe and Hvitserk are but a distraction."

Gye gave a scandalized look. "My lord, that is a private information."

Sigurd shrugged. "Everyone knows that. I keep no secret from my allies, besides, I have Ivar to punish those who do not abide by our laws. He can be quite creative."

"So you're done being pissed at him?" sassed Siggy.

Sigurd's face grew dark. "Do not assume I forgave him for my mother's absence and her lack of love. I still resent him dearly. I merely pointed out that he can be a good asset in a war."

"You are growing it seems." said Guthrum coldly. "That is quite new."

Sigurd's eyes grew darker and it seemed the serpent in his eye was ready to bite. "I am the son of a king, the heir to a divine line. I was born for greatness such has predicted she who gave birth to me and the royal blood in my veins. Of course I grew. I must if I wish to be worth my fate."

Guthrum kissed Siggy's temple. "You are still as arrogant as a boy though."

Sigurd unsheathed his sword and brought it to Guthrum's neck who did not even break a sweat. "Careful now." seethed Sigurd like one of those serpents who killed his father. "I could have you killed if my niece was not so fond of you and if you were not a good warrior. Know that you are only alive by the mercy of my family, know that you owe our household your life. Know," he said, leaning closer to Guthrum's stern face considering the blade with doubt. "That you are not indispensable though. Your father died because of his arrogance and insults. Do not follow his steps."

Guthrum gave half a grin. "Good to know you do not think Bjorn my father. I am pleased."

Siggy removed Sigurd's blade with her ax with a loud groan. "Enough Sigurd." Guthrum gave a satisfied grin. "And you Guthrum." she turned to him with angry eyes. "Focus on tomorrow's battle instead! The battle will be long."

Sigurd gave a sigh and sheathed back his blade. "You are right. Tomorrow we will rejoice in battle and honor Thor, Odin and Tyr. Now is no true fight."

"Because you'd lose it, scald prince." snarled Guthrum.

Sigurd's serpent danced in his eye and seethed, spitting venom with ire and wrath to come. Had the serpent came out, it would have devoured Guthrum as those who devoured the greatest hero Denmark had ever known. "Because it wouldn't be worthy of my blade, half-jarl."

Guthrum spat on the ground and Sigurd left with a satisfied grin. Guthrum held his hatchet and gripped it as though he was about to strike Sigurd but didn't, for Gye's sword was unsheathed and she would kill him at once were he ever daring to kill a man she had swore fealty a year ago. Guthrum gave her a scornful look and relaxed his tense hand wrapped around the handle and turned it nonchalantly in his hand. There was no need to kill Sigurd now. If he succumbed to anger, he was a dead man. Guthrum gave a cold grin to Gye and sighed. He would be far away from the whole pack of them soon enough anyway.

For now he needed Sigurd to lead him to glory. And he needed Siggy to share his anger with. On that she was the perfect woman for him, not that they talked much anyway. Siggy was a fine woman for bed-warming and anger-sharing, nothing much, nothing less. She had Ragnar's blood in her veins and Guthrum thought it venom. He would never breed with it.

Guthrum put the hatchet back on his belt and rose his hands in the air to show Gye there was no need for slaughter. With a last cold smile, he walked away and gave a chuckle.

Gye looked at him walk away and spat on the ground while sheathing back her sword. She turned to Siggy with eyes full of anger and hatred. "Never stand between me and my lord again. If you do, I will kill you."

Siggy's eyes grew wrathful. "I love Sigurd just as much as you do. I knew it would do him a great disservice to kill such a valuable man as Guthrum, whether he is my man or not."

"Whatever your reasons! The gods know Angrboda loves you and let your foolishness be brushed aside, but I do not. Threaten the life of my lord and I will end yours, royal blood or not."

Siggy gave a joyless smile. "Glad to see my uncle found such a loyal champion. You should have been named Bodvar."

Gye's face was stern and unforgiving. "You should not have been born." she spat.

Siggy's face grew more somber and she took the veil of ire. "Don't stand in my way tomorrow. You will die if you do."

"Make sure Horek doesn't see you then." Gye mocked with a scornful look. "If he does, then I guess there is no killing me." that said, she walked away with angry strides, leaving Siggy ever alone in the middle of a bustling camp.

Siggy gave a sigh and a groan. She threw her ax to a tree and was satisfied to see its blade plunged deep into the wood. She was ever so angry, so abandoned, so alone. She wondered where Angrboda was. At the moment it seemed only her presence by her side would calm her nerves.

Siggy was mad. She was mad at Sigurd for the insult made to Guthrum, mad at Guthrum for those made to Sigurd, mad at Gye for her saying she did not deserve birth or parents, mad at the world for reminding her of her chains and for binding her to a life she did not want. She was mad at her mother she never knew, mad at her father she wished all the sickness in the world, mad at Aslaug, she who could not care for her, mad at Lagertha for her never care, mad at the gods, mad at everything. Siggy hated them all with their hypocrisy and betrayals. Siggy hated them all and only stayed for battle. It was all.

Tomorrow she would fight and kill, slaughter men weaker than toddlers. Tomorrow she will paint her face with red for fright and bear a face Horek will never recognize. Tomorrow she will fight and finally let go of her anger. Siggy was somewhat content Gye would be her battle mate. She may hate the woman at the moment, but she held her in high regard and was glad – truly – that she protected Sigurd. Someone ought to.

Eystein, Sigurd and Ivar would lead tomorrow. Siggy dreaded the battle, but was impatient to finally begin on the path of her destiny. Angrboda's face sprung to her. She had so much to lose and so much to gain.

The warriors were awoken early in the morning. Ivar's scouts had reported news of an army marching towards the city Siggy and Eystein had raided and all men and women were preparing for battle while the women in charge of food and healing prepared themselves to provide in case of need.

Siggy painted her face in the tent, but ran out of red paint for half her face. Angrboda was behind her, carefully braiding her hair to avoid it falling in front of Siggy's eyes in battle and to avoid anyone to pull at her hair.

"I look like the goddess Hel." said Siggy while looking at herself in the polished iron of her helmet.

Angrboda shrugged. "Does it matter? You will scare them more that way. The goddess Hel is always something amazing to see."

Siggy gave a grin. "Do you think they would fear me more if I put blue paint on my teeth?"

Angrboda shivered. "No. Don't."

Siggy gave a silent laugh. "Paint it is then."

"You are so beautiful, why ruin it?"

Siggy kept her anger at bay and a cold calm came to replace it. "It is not beauty that will give me back my childhood. It has been ruined already, why not ruin it more? I will be beautiful on my own terms and to me, beauty is strength and a burning hall, battlefield and redden skin."

"That is a strange way to see the world." said Angrboda as she tied Siggy's armor. "A sad one."

"What can I say? I am a sad story."

Angrboda kissed the top of her head. "With a happier fate I hope."

Siggy gave a warmer grin. "With you by my side, how can it bring me sorrow Boda? Your name took all the harm you could give. Your father was wise to ward off the fates."

Angrboda gave her a gentle slap on the neck. "You flatter!" then, she took her in her arms. "Don't die Sig. For me and for that glorious fate that I am sure awaits you."

"You put too much faith in me." said Siggy. "I will try one day to repay your kindness. I swear to you I will not die."

Angrboda gave a pleased grin and firmly gripped Siggy's arm. "If you mess my work..." she menaced.

Siggy laughed. "To face your wrath? The Northumbrian army seems like a gentle breeze compared to your storms."

Angrboda tried to give a smile but it lost itself on its way. If Siggy died, she would never recover. It was her first real battle and the stakes had never been so high. Angrboda was afraid, as always at the sight of her covered with blood, whether it was that of a foe, hers or that of a deer she was eating raw, her skin marked with wolves bites. She shivered. Those sights would never go away. She would always fear for her, although she knew Siggy was capable of survival to the point she survived on her own at an early age.

Siggy, she believed, survived for great things, for the gods took notice of her. Freya would always favor a pretty girl with guts.

A horn blew in the distance, a signal of a battle about to begin. Siggy marched behind the army led by Ivar and Sigurd, next to Eystein, in charge of his own and the son of a kinglet in Norway, Thorir, hungry for mighty deeds. Those grew rarer with time and it was his first ever battle. He was a boy barely reaching manhood and Siggy almost pitied him if he were not so arrogant in his fear.

Gye was marching near Sigurd and Horek walked ten feet behind her. Siggy was glad he did not see her. She was also glad Sigurd chose to put her in Eystein's troops, leading some men and berserkers on her own. She quite enjoyed being in command now, although she was much too independent and wanted to abide by her law and do her thing by herself.

"That'd be a shame if your beauty died." Eystein purred in her ear. "That is a shame you hide it."

Siggy shrugged. Guthrum was leading the way with Sigurd and his words resonated with her more than those of Eystein. "Beauty is nothing to me. Blood is all."

"Blood calls blood, princess." Eystein whispered, grazing her skin with his lips. "If you die, I shall mourn you and your pretty eyes. I shall pray to the gods for you to feast with Valkyries as you should."

Siggy blushed, almost flattered. "I am no Valkyrie."

Eystein's hand reached her waist and he stepped closer to her. "What are you then?"

"I am a wolf." Siggy said removing his hands. "If you bite me, I eat you."

Eystein laughed. "Is it as simple as that?"

"As simple as that." Siggy couldn't suppress a smile. Flirting was quite tempting although she would never lay with a man such as Eystein. He was too much a man anyway.

Eystein ruffled her hair and spanked her ass. "Don't die beauty."

Siggy groaned then stomped on his foot and hit his crotch. "I'll bury you before I do." she sang as Eystein yelped and stopped, compelled to hold his groin, cursing after Siggy's violence.

They stopped after half a day walking. The terrain was good, Ivar had said, and his scouts had told of a great army that would be there soon. It was a narrow slope of grass surrounded by a deep forest and the Ragnarssons' army was camping beneath the ridge of it. It was the only path possible for an army to march towards where the vikings' camp was. A bell rang afar. A city bustled nearby, not at all aware of the great army that laid there, with its thousands of men in leather armor, armed to the teeth and ready to kill a portion of the Northumbrian army.

"This will do." said Ivar.

"The trained army is in Wessex fighting for king Aethelwulf. We better fight well and make some noise to make them come back to us. I long for a true fight." Sigurd replied.

Ivar scowled. "Must you always speak poetry?"

Sigurd shrugged. "Must you always be gloomy?"

Ivar gave a cold grin. "Those men we will fight aren't trained. It will be easy. It is almost a shame to Odin."

"If they don't surrender to us, then you can kill them." Sigurd said.

"Thank you for sharing toys." Ivar mocked. "I'll get them all anyway."

Sigurd almost wanted to hit him but restrained his sword. For now he needed Ivar. "What's your clever plan this time?"

Ivar shrugged. "No need to be more shrewd this time. They are but a puny army. They will think they have the higher ground and we will corner them with Eystein's troops, Siggy's and the berserkers. I say we do just like the first time we were here. "

"Except now we lead the army."

"And Bjorn is away in Kattegat. I do find some joy in it." Ivar said with cruelty and bitterness.

Sigurd answered with one of his own. "Shall you speak to our men? I know you crave for attention."

"You are bold for a scald, and generous for a prince. I will let you speak. Those morons couldn't even see greatness if they had eyes." Ivar coldly said.

Sigurd turned around and said "Men and women of the great army, now is the day we finally begin our greatest deed, the conquest of a kingdom my father tried to conquer long ago! We begin our path to revenge for our hero's death, for the murder of a king from people worshiping a dead god! Ours are not! Freya, Odin, Thor and Tyr shall watch over us and guide our swords! Valkyries shall notice you and take you home, in the golden hall where heroes lay!"

They were all listening, although not with as much respect as they should towards a prince, for he was yet still a young man whose exploits had not outshone his father's. Who would listen to a boy who had only fought in less than ten battles, was he of royal blood, descended from Valkyries and gods? Now was no time for the heroes they spoke in the tales. Now was time for realness and conquest just as crude as blood.

Sigurd knew they respected him less than they feared Ivar. But he did not care. He had Gye as chieftain, he had men who were loyal to him, if he needed to, he would become a sea-king such as some Norse kings who set sail from lack of land to plow.

The serpent danced in his eye. He prayed to Sigurd Fafnirsbana for strength and prayed to prove himself to him. His mother had placed a heavy burden upon his shoulder with such a name, and he was afraid he would never fit the expectation. The shoes were too large for his boy feet, still he longed to fill them.

Sigurd shook his head. He was still young. This battle was only the beginning of the path to glory. He tried to remember to compose a lay.

"We tried to wreck them once and revenge didn't take. Now will not be the same. Now, we are prepared. We are no longer pups with wooden claws, with wooden fangs. Now we are wolves of iron and now I say that we show them they should be afraid." he shouted.

Ivar grinned next to him. Was Sigurd not an annoying scald always in his way, always insulting him, he thought that maybe they could have been close. But he thought him too weak for consideration. He would outdo them all anyway. The world was but a worm crawling at his feet.

Siggy and Eystein set off to the forest, roaring with the rest of the troops a great chant that resonated in the slope, in the forest to the sky, masking the sweet sound of the bell that rang in the distance. The sound suddenly grew more desperate as the tolling bell echoed in Northumbria. While it was but a sound ringing to mark midday, now it rang for death.

Siggy tried to calm her breath in the forest above the army. Her heart hammered with anticipation and her hands felt moist around the handle of her sword. She was so tense she almost forgot about the berserkers around her, hiding in a deep nature. Siggy feared she might die, or disappear like her mother. She did not know what she was hoping for in life, but she knew she wanted something. Whether it was freedom from Kattegat, adventures or revenge against her father, something was amiss in her life and she wanted to find it.

The men of the forest vanished completely from her perception, she tried to sniff them and found some nearby, not experienced enough to hide their smell, to hide their nervousness. The berserkers were good at it though, they melted into the forest with great skill and Siggy almost felt them as animals. Eystein was something else. He was blustering and she could but feel him around. He was yet too much human when he should have been beast. He had no knowledge of the forest and she could feel him staring at her ass. Siggy yowled. She would have to bite him to make him hear reason.

She saw Sigurd, Guthrum and Gye beneath her position and a longing grew that she was like them, human more than beast. She was one with the part of her that as wolf but yet, they were beneath her and they seemed so much happy. They had something that Siggy lacked and would never have. She was looking at them through a fence and what she saw made her want she had their lives. Siggy grew envious. Had she been raised in a hall by a queen, maybe she would have been happier.

Another part of the army joined them in the forest, though they hid feet behind the berserkers and Siggy's warriors. Now it seemed as though Sigurd and Ivar had been foolish boys who only brought ten ships with them and not thirty, gathering jarls and kinglets with proper armies during their journey.

Siggy's grip on her sword eased and her eyes fell to Horek, down on the slope. She hoped he would die in battle, but she doubted it. Horek was as much a good warrior as his sister. Still, she wished she could get rid of him, and maybe get rid of Eystein in the process.

The waiting was the hardest part. So much could go wrong and it ran in heads to madness and to fear. Siggy almost dropped her sword when finally, a great thunderous noise announced the marching of an army towards the site. A few men dressed finely rode in front of a small army made of scrawny remains of the English society. Those were paupers, second sons, bastards, old soldiers and half baked boys not even adult yet, wielding what they could find as a weapon. Few carried swords and some had spears and bows. Only the dozen of men riding were properly armed. Those were Aelle's noble.

Ivar grinned below. This would be an easy fight and he wouldn't even have to break a sweat.

Then, came the other part of the army, proper warriors, a few for the many massed below the slope. Ivar grinned and Siggy's smile echoed his. This promised some fun.

One of the men riding blew his horn. The signal for battle and for this muddy ground to become a golden temple of blood and shattered steel for war, for Odin, Thor Tyr and the Valkyries.

Ivar chanted a war-cry and those behind him followed, they roared almost with madness and rang their blades on their shields for some effect upon the Northumbrian. They were already angry, already fearful, for the regular and simultaneous raids had been fruitful in the weal minds of those who dwelt in this rich and prosperous land. Now the noise finished to embed the fear.

"Shield wall!" Siggy heard Guthrum say as the men on foot marched down the hill and archers behind the nobles drew their bow to release a flock of arrows.

The shield wall was something to see. All the shields were brought together elegantly and strongly leaving no space for anything to come in between. It was a shell of the most beautiful kind, strong and warlike. No arrow came through.

The archers kept shooting, the more experienced men were behind, as if the lives of those behind did not matter, as if they were the shield wall of the Saxons and bred to be killed for other to succeed. Siggy could hardly believe it as she realized the nobles tactic. What king would sacrifice his people in such a fashion? What king would sacrifice those who fed him? Suddenly her heart iced and all mercy she could have had left towards those nobles vanished. They deserved to be conquered, and Aelle deserved to die.

The Saxons kept marching, bound by the certainty of their victory against the thin thread of the shieldwall. Then, suddenly, spears sprung from it and impaled the Saxons while a salvo of arrows shot from behind killed men and brought some down with great doleful pangs, while men in the shieldwall cut and sliced feet from below.

The nobles rose their sword and charged with the rest of the army. They rushed down and were half reaching the shieldwall when a horn blew. The signal for the trap to fall upon the Saxons. With great roars, blood-lust and coming out of the shadows of the wild, the berserkers, Eystein's troops and Siggy's came down hill while the rest of the army bypassed the forest and placed themselves at the edge of the slope to form a shieldwall adorned with spears to prevent any chance of escape.

The nobles cried a trap in the middle of the slope and Siggy ran to them, her sword drawn, giving way for savagery, her fangs bare and foaming with a thirst for blood. She was back into the wilds, back into the pack of wolves, back hunting and those below were her prey.

She barely saw the berserkers behead horses with their axes, barely heard the great thunderous clash of steel echoing throughout the land, barely saw Sigurd and Ivar cover themselves with blood as they sprang out of the shieldwall, barely saw Gye thrust her blade in guts and throats with great roars, barely saw Guthrum beside her, always diverting blows. Siggy worked instinctively, all her fears forgotten, cutting, slicing, beheading, striking. Her face grew red with blood and around her, all she saw was flesh to ravage.

A man came to her and tried to strike her dead with a sword, but Siggy, mechanically, dodged it with her shield and opened his chest in half, delighted to spread her fury. She wanted to kill, to bite, to see the ground turn red. She half chopped the head of another man who fell gargling and thrust her blade into the stomach of any Saxon already down. Eystein was beside her and she heard his foul whistling at her when he was not busy slaying people.

Both shieldwalls kept marching towards one another like an vise to press the Saxon army till none remained. Siggy cut a man's arm and a violent pang struck her arm. She had been cut by a blade and now she was hurt. She hissed and roared and lost herself further in battles, here only to kill. So she killed, she ripped off limbs, gutted men, opened skulls, she killed till none remained on the battlefield, till she almost passed out with exhaustion.

A horn tore her of her trance and she looked around. They had won and the nobles bore chains. She looked around and her blood iced in her veins.

Horek was looking at her. He narrowed his eyes as though her face bore familiar features, narrowed them as he tried to think where he had seen her before. He was recognizing her but not fully and Siggy almost gagged. She could already picture the chains around her neck as she would have been brought to Bjorn.

Then Eystein took her apart and Guthrum followed, aware of his lust. Siggy shook herself out of Eystein's grip, still very much wild and walked down the slope towards the only company she pleased at the moment, that of her uncle, Sigurd.

"He saw me." she croaked with panic to Gye, standing beside Sigurd who was looking at the nobles.

Gye scowled and wrinkled her nose. "He is not dead then? What a shame."

"He saw me." Siggy whispered urgently.

Gye shrugged. "Your face is covered with blood. He would have dreamed."

"I tell you he will take me to Bjorn to marry Rognvald." Siggy said, this time angrier.

"I don't care." said Gye. "I only care that this dear brother of mine isn't dead."

Siggy almost gave in to rage. Her thirst for blood was not yet quenched and she longed to wrestle and eat Gye, as towering and massive she was.

"What troubles you?" asked Sigurd, turning to her. "We won. Their families," he showed the noble men, "will come to them and to us. This land is almost ours now."

Siggy's eyes filled with tears. "Horek Torsteinsson. He is Bjorn's spy and he saw me. He will tell Bjorn I am here and he will come and take me back to Kattegat to wed."

Sigurd looked around and found Horek in the middle of severed corpses, while the other men killed those of their own begging for Valhalla, deep in his thoughts, wondering whether he had hallucinated or not.

Sigurd narrowed his eyes. "I think you are safe for now." he said. "Hide your face and he shall never know it was you he saw. In any case, I can bring him to Ivar to appease him sometime, that is if the Saxons don't quench his thirst." he turned to Gye. "Bring the wounded to the camp and have those noble men follow you. I want them well fed and rested for their families."

"Yes my lord." said Gye. "What of Ivar?"

Sigurd looked around and saw Ivar on his cart, overlooking the battlefield, pleased with the red shade of the grass.

"I shall stay with him." he said. "Siggy will too. Take Guthrum and Eystein with you Gye. The battle is over. Now we rest and wait."

The slope emptied of all the living but three while the sun slowly finished its course in the sky.

"We have won a great victory. A much too easy victory. It is not worthy of us." said Ivar. "I need more."

Sigurd came to stand beside him, carefully watching his hand, trying to see any sign he would take his ax and strike him with it. "I know you do."

Ivar turned and glared with contempt. "No you don't. You are too soft. You are not viking enough to dream like I do."

Sigurd shrugged. "I dream like only I do. I want to avenge father as much as you do and conquer as much as you do. Only my method requires less blood and more politics."

Ivar scoffed. "You almost sound like mother. You have her eyes."

"Do not talk to me about her." Sigurd growled. "I have no mother and we have no father. We are only avenging the ghost of what he was to us."

Ivar turned to him. "Mother was a great woman, a great queen and a great sorceress. Mother was a goddess on earth. Why is it you hate her when you should be praising her?"

"Because she never cared for anyone." spat Siggy bitterly. "Except you Ivar. Perhaps she made a mistake saving you."

Ivar glared at her, his hand on his ax. "Careful now, niece. I might kill you for less than that."

"I will eat your cripple legs before you do." Siggy growled back.

Ivar laughed. "I do love a not soft Sig. Such a shame Bjorn wants you locked in a hall. You would be much useful a hound." he faked a sadden sigh. "Ah! If only Horek had not seen you!"

Siggy's heart sank and fear came back. "How do you know?"

"I have ears everywhere here." said Ivar.

Sigurd sighed. "For now, Ivar, we need Siggy as much as we need anyone else. If we want revenge, we cannot lose valuable assets." he stroked his beard. "If Horek saw her it is a problem."

"To you." said Ivar. "Not to me."

"Horek is Bjorn's spy. Wouldn't you like to mess with his plans?" asked Sigurd.

Ivar gave it a thought. "He annoys me." he admitted. "He annoys me with his whore mother and his whore half-baked shieldmaiden wife. He annoys me thinking himself above us, sons of legend and magic, born from a powerful line and heir to the Volsung clan. He annoys me thinking himself greater than us, gods." his voice reeked of hatred. "Yes, I would very much like to mess with his ambitions." he confessed. "Ah! I guess we need to keep Siggy away from him then. This sure will be distracting." he turned to look at her and gave a cruel grin that gave his face a cold beauty. "An unsoft Sig."

Sigurd grew dark. "So what say you?"

Ivar gave a grin. "It is agreed. Siggy shall stay as long as she wishes and if Horek see her then I shall pluck his eyes out. I sure will enjoy it."

As he said it, both Siggy and Sigurd shivered, for they knew it was true.

Angrboda was in the healing tent, watching as men stirred and twisted on the ground with pain and doleful moans, whimpering as they should in regard of their wounds. She was done healing a man back to health but another screamed as he learned he would lose his sword hand. He yelled Valhalla and gripped his sword tight waiting for someone to kill him. Angrboda closed her eyes tight, suppressing the pain he brought to her. Angrboda was like that. She absorbed everything around her and Siggy's anger was as much pain to her as was her aversion towards Aslaug who she still respected as her queen and master.

Around her, it was but pain and suffering and she almost gagged at the thought of it. She hated it. She longed to be surrounded by peace and happiness and severed limbs, although she was proud of her healing, was to her a torture. She would be better off healing cripples or brewing love potions than healing wounded men.

Her apron was covered with blood. Her hands were covered with blood and she tended small cuts and other non-crippling injuries against infections, using strong ale and a boiling knife.

She worked for hours in the tent, for what seemed an eternity, amidst pain and suffering, cries and tears and pleas for death. She worked against her tears, against pity, and tried to see them only as bags of flesh she needed to fix or sew. She had to give some the sweet release of death, though, and some died when healed. Others dozed off, drifting with fever that Angrboda tried to soothe, for it would lead them to death.

There were not many injured in the tent, and but a few died, but still, the agony made Angrboda suffer as though it had been her who were wounded. She shed a tear. She would ease them all and ward off her name. She swore, this instant, amidst the pain of the world, to seek a cure for anything, to learn from anyone, to wander the world till she found every remedy against every wound. She swore it to herself, to the gods and on her name. She would not be the bringer of sorrow. She would heal and she would spread kindness, such as her mother, such as Aslaug once did.

She would no longer be a receptacle for her father's darkness, nor the world's.

She got out of the healing tent exhausted and covered with blood. She wiped her sweat off her face, covering herself with blood in the process and looked up at the sky and its colored clouds. There was much beauty in this world that met the eye, and Angrboda was thankful for that painted sky above which reminded her of hope and of goodness.

She was drawn to the main tent by whispers and talking and was glad to find Siggy behind a throng of men, her arms crossed and covered with blood.

"This better not be yours." Angrboda said as she stood beside Siggy.

"Boda!" Siggy's face was bright and full of happiness. She laughed. "No, well, a bit yes. It is mostly Saxon blood, although I was wounded in battle."

Angrboda sighed. "Come now. I need to tend your wounds."

"Not now." Siggy sternly said. "I want to hear what Sigurd and Ivar will do."

"Why aren't you with them, then?"

"Horek is there with Gye and Guthrum. And I want to avoid Eystein. He has been flirting with me all day." she said wrinkling her nose with contempt.

Angrboda nodded. This was wise indeed. She did not know what she would do if Siggy was taken away from her. She had been with her ever since she was old enough to remember. "How are your wounds?" she asked.

"Those I got in the raid hurt a little when I was in battle and this one sting a bit but I can take it." Siggy shrugged. "It is but another scar to mark my life."

"Your beauty will be ruined if you keep it up."

"Then it shall be ruined and no one will want to wed me. That is but good news." Siggy said. "To be a man's woman is not something I want."

"Even for Guthrum?"

Siggy shrugged. "It is different. Him and I want the same thing. I know we will never wed or even have sons, for I doubt he wants it or I do, but we will be mates in the shieldwall and become great warriors. I am his equal." she said picturing a life in the shieldwall with him, fighting battles after battles till they died a sword in hand and rejoined Odin's hall, two star-crossed lovers who died together like in the stories.

Angrboda looked at him and his cold eyes. She wondered if Siggy was true, for in his eyes it seemed that there was no space for an equal, only a thirst for revenge.

The nobles were chained facing Ivar and Sigurd. Their families had been brought and few had enough sons to inherit their lands. Many of their women, though, with their brown eyes and chestnut hair were enthralling despite being plain as every woman. Sigurd enjoyed their eyes, brown as the fur of a bear or the trunk of a tree. Still, to him no woman was worth a Norse one, or a Dane one even with that strange fascination he had felt seeing those brown girls from southern lands sold as slaves in rare occasions.

Ivar was different in this matter. To him, breeding with those Saxon girls would bring him shame and weaken his blood. No, he needed a viking woman; a woman to match his greatness.

"My lords." said Sigurd in a perfect English tongue mastered with years of wandering near the merchant ships of Kattegat and hearing men tell of stories here or in Baghdad or Constantinople, learned according to his mother's wishes that her sons could talk to kings of all sort. "Welcome." he opened his arms just as the Christ god did on that cross of his. "Shall you have mead to quench your thirst? We know for sure the blood of your army quenched ours." he joked, belittling them.

"You are arrogant for a boy." One of the nobles said.

Sigurd gave a laugh and Ivar's hand reached his ax. "Perhaps I am. But we did beat you."

"And we will do it again." Ivar added with cockiness.

His smile sent shivers down the Saxons' spine.

"For now, there is no need to fight." appeased Sigurd. He was good at that game, soothing the fear Ivar produced in them. "There is no need for your people to die and we are not here for killing. Not entirely, at least."

"And what will you do? We are chained here like slaves. What will you do if not killing us?" said another noble man, angrier.

Sigurd shook his head. "I apologize for the chains." he snapped his fingers. "Someone remove their chains, but stand ready to kill." called Sigurd in his own tongue.

A few men abode by it and reluctantly removed their chains. The noble men watched warily and shook with fear to what the northmen would do next.

"See now. No chains to hold you." said Sigurd. "We intend to keep you free." he looked at their wives and children. "You and your families." his smile fell and he grew serious. "That is if you swear allegiance to me and my brother."

"You?" a man spat on the ground. "Never! I would rather die than abide by the law of a pagan!"

"This can be helped." Ivar said.

Sigurd held his hand as to stop Ivar's hand. "Come now brother." he said in a honeyed tone compelling Ivar to follow his lead. "Such a bold man cannot be punished, truly." he gave the man a compassionate look. "We will not force our gods upon you. You will be free of worship." Ivar scoffed and gave an outraged yelp but Sigurd told him to shut it with a look. He stepped closer to the man and he suddenly stepped back, afraid of the serpent in his eye as if it came from a world he could not comprehend, a world made of mist and magic. "That is if you choose to swear to us."

"Aelle is our king." one of them pleaded.

Sigurd shrugged. "A king who abandoned you and your families with no true defense. A king who bowed to another king and fights his war."

"Upon his daughter's pleas." said a woman.

"I heard it was to conquer land." Sigurd said. "I heard he does not care for daughters." he stepped aside and looked at her, and she marveled at his comely allure, entranced by the serpent dancing in his eye. "We do care for daughters and we bow to no king." he said, charming. "Aelle enslaved you, conquered you, used you and usurped you." said Sigurd to the kings. "He made you weak and took your crowns." he said with pity. "With an oath of fealty, taxes and men and horse you shall provide us, we will make you kings again, your sons will be princes and your daughter will wed kings. You will be great again, and worthy of the great Saxon kings of then. You shall be kings with only us as masters and you shall be free provided you abide by the Danelaw." Sigurd had said it as though it was the greatest honor. "What say you?"

"If we refuse?" asked a man.

Ivar leaned towards him and gave a cruel smile. "Then you are a dead man."

"What of our sons and daughters if we die?" asked a man.

Ivar looked at them, the children behind, some ready to slit the throat of their father for glory, for an iron crown and a small parcel of land. Ivar gave a smile, greed was the same everywhere. "We are no monsters." he sang. "They will inherit and be kings in your place. The women shall be wed to some of the princes here and become queens in their own right."

"We are no fools." said one of the wives behind. "We know they will be raped and maimed and beaten till they say your gods' names and abjure the faith of their forefathers."

Sigurd looked at her, more comely in gentleness than Ivar. "Beating a woman is dishonorable and we will see that they are well treated."

"They will kill themselves if you touch them." said another wife.

"Then they will be worthy of songs." said Sigurd. "We do not offer you war. We offer you peace for the greater good. Your greater good." he added.

"We refuse to stand by this blasphemy!" yelled four of the nobles.

"If what you say is true, we will stand by you." said their sons to Sigurd.

The fathers turned and slapped their boys. "You will learn respect and keep silent when your word doesn't matter! You are no earl, nor king!" said one.

"Know your place." said another.

Ivar turned to some of his men. "Give them daggers. The sons will take care of their fathers."

Orders were followed and daggers put in the sons' hands. They looked at Ivar, puzzled and he grinned when their fathers' faces suddenly grew full of fear and full of hatred. They would kill their fathers. Ivar had seen that, but the fathers, trustful in their sons' humility had not and this trust had been fatal, for the sons slit their fathers' throats under the screams of some's wives and daughters.

Sigurd had closed his eyes, not wishing to see but still accepting that cruelty was necessary in times of war.

Ivar's grin widened. "Now you are kings." he said. "Swear to us and you shall return home with your household and men of our choosing as guardian and protectors."

"Our sisters?" asked one of the sons.

"They are yours to keep and protect." said Sigurd

"I would marry one." said Thorir who understood parts of the conversation. "I shall go with one of them and wed one of the sisters."

Sigurd nodded. The sons knelt before him and Ivar and upon their sword, they swore to be faithful in oath until they died. They swore it on their line, on their blood, that of their forefathers and on their faith. The bond was strong with faith, stronger when blood had been spilled. They departed after they had sworn with their household without any last look to their fathers they had killed, bearing their sister's wails and their mother's tears of distress although those men had not been of their choosing.

Sigurd turned to the other old noble men, some with sons fighting in Wessex, scared for their safety and that of their line. "Will you swear?"

"My son and that of my lord Deorwine are off warring in Wessex." said one, whose name was Eardwulf. "We are weary of Aelle taking them all for his petty wars, tired of him treating us as his hounds. We will swear to you."

"As will I." said another named Wemba. "If what you promise is true, then we will be content with you as masters. You seem men great enough to follow."

Another gave a sad sigh. "My wife has given me only daughters and no heir, may she rest in peace. I have nothing to lose swearing to you." he seemed weak and tired.

"You do well, and your eldest daughter shall marry one of our men who shall be your heir." said Sigurd.

"That, I would find acceptable." the man, named Aelred. "You killed several of our fellow earls today though and many had no sons. What of their lands?"

"We shall divide them equally and they shall be yours." Sigurd said.

"Then if you are so fair as to do that, then I suppose I shall swear too." said the oldest whose name was Beorthric.

This left no nobles who did not swear. "Good." said Sigurd. "Your decision was wise. Kneel and swear and you shall return home."

"I do have a plea." said Beorthric.

"That is?" asked Ivar.

"Let us bury those whose sons so despicably murdered according to our sacred rites." he said.

"Granted." Sigurd said, nodding.

Ivar gave him a dark look but Sigurd did not want to show the Saxons he had been shaken. Now was the time for shrewd politics and granting Beorthric burial of his kin was but the least he could do. Besides, the Saxon pride was something to respect as such and Sigurd, by pleasing them wanted to win them over completely. He was pleased to see that his method worked and that with politics and cunning he had managed to conquer more land and power in a day than he would have waging war.

Guthrum was silent behind him, his arms crossed and glanced from times to times to Eystein who he had seen too close to Siggy for his liking. Had the sons killed him too, he wouldn't have minded. Horek was not far from him and he watched him from the corner of his eyes. He had seen Siggy but not yet realized it. It had become dangerous here, especially now that Ivar and Sigurd had become the masters of the land. He needed to leave.

The remaining of Aelle's nobles swore their oaths on their swords, their land, their forefathers their line and their faith and went away with their families and a cart red with the blood of the slain under the tent. Siggy watched them disappear from the field with mixed feelings. It seemed they still cared for their own, and their daughters had been brave even though they were but young and inexperienced. Perhaps women were brave anyway. She knew Angrboda was and she knew Helga was.

A few of Sigurd and Ivar's men marched behind some of the nobles as protectors and guards and Siggy saw a few flirt with the maiden turned princesses that day. Had she been raised in a hall by a queen, it would have been her, wooed for her beauty. Sometimes, Siggy wondered if she would like it. But she was too damaged and scarred now anyway to dream of such things. She longed for freedom, not a household. All she wanted was – All she wanted was a family. Some peace at last.

Siggy gagged. The pain was too much and she was tired of all this fighting. The storm in her head exhausted her and she wanted nothing but sleep. It had been a long day.

Angrboda followed her to her tent and when inside, Siggy cried as though she was just a little girl again, scared and tired and so desperately alone.

Okay so this was a long chapter and my fingers hurt and I a so glad I finished this monster of words. My head hurts and I am so glad I found inspiration to write this again. I would like to thank my reading of the Gesta Danorum for it and also that of the Half-Drowned King which is possibly one of the greatest read I ever had. Also, Bodvar is a reference for the saga of king Hrolf Kraki. If you haven't read it, READ IT! Many things are coming and I have written but 1% of the story. I am so excited to share with you what will happen next and show you what the seer's prophecies mean.

I would also like to than you all, wonderful readers commenting leaving kudos and feedback and reading this half-baked fanfic of mine. I sure am grateful for you. Also, I would like to point out that I am writing an original story which is a romance novel and the first 6 chapters are on Ao3.

Next chapter will include Siggy naked, new characters and maybe others... I hope you liked this one as much as I loved writing it. I feel like my writing is growing and it makes me so happy.