𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 - 𝑰𝒗𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔

19

When the Saxons came to York, the city felt like a ghost town—smoke and mud everywhere. Something about it didn't seem real, the bishop thought. His gaze lowered to the floor, where rats scurried.

The Vikings hid in tunnels beneath the city. Ivar, Daenaera, and Hvitserk were among them. As they neared the tablets with narrow slits, they knew the time had come. The Vikings had to emerge.

Ivar glanced at Hvitserk, grinning proudly—his plan was working. Then he turned to Daenaera, pulling her close by the waist with his left hand and planting a kiss on her lips.

The youngest Ragnarsson raised his hand, signaling. The Vikings placed ladders beneath the tablets and prepared to strike. Silently, they shifted the tablets aside and climbed out of the tunnels.

Ivar roared, Hvitserk beside him, as their warriors surged into battle. Hvitserk and Daenaera emerged first, then Ivar was helped out by his bodyguards.

Ivar roared again, drawing his small daggers and aiming them at the Saxons. Daenaera was by his side, sending arrows—a custom gift from Ivar.

A Saxon soldier killed a Viking right before Hvitserk's eyes, blood splattering across his face. Rage overtook him; he screamed and slaughtered more enemies with ferocity.

Ivar helped Daenaera climb atop the castle wall to oversee the battle. Some Vikings shot the bishop's horse with a volley of arrows, killing it. Ivar's gaze locked onto the bishop like a hawk, tracking every movement.

He shouted, "Spears!" and the Vikings hurled their weapons, killing many Saxons.

When the bishop fell from his horse, Ivar called out—leaving Daenaera confused—
"Stop fighting! Stop fighting! Give him my horse! He's a great warrior on foot!"

"Skoros issi ao doing, Ivar?"
(What are you doing, Ivar?)

Daenaera asked in her mother tongue.

The Viking took Ivar's horse to the bishop, who kissed his sword and bowed to Ivar. Ivar smiled widely in return. With one swift gesture, Ivar signaled the fight to resume. Daenaera was puzzled but ignored him, just as he ignored her confusion.

The Vikings defeated the Saxons once more. Ivar decided to take the bishop prisoner. The man lay on the ground next to the shattered wooden statue of his god, beheaded and discarded.

Ivar crawled forward and stood before the bishop, locking eyes. He laughed at his captive and ordered chains fastened.

⸻

"The Saxons have abandoned their camp and fled," a Viking reported to the brothers seated opposite each other.

When Daenaera entered the hall, Ivar looked at her in awe. She was stunning, but she didn't meet his gaze—she turned away and sat down to eat. Ivar frowned. Hvitserk noticed.

"If you keep ignoring your wife, brother, she might just leave you," Hvitserk warned. The words lingered in Ivar's mind, but he focused on the bishop.

⸻

"If we want, we could pursue and destroy them," Ivar said after a pause.

"We have more important matters," Hvitserk began. Ivar frowned, but listened as his brother continued.

"We must return to Kattegat. What if Ubbe kills Lagertha and crowns himself king? That would be a devastating blow. We need to act. We must kill Ubbe and Lagertha. You should be crowned King of Kattegat—before Bjorn returns."

"You're making more and more sense, brother," Ivar said with a wicked smile. "Good man. I recall King Harald's ambition for Kattegat. In the short term, we should ally with him. This time we'll truly abandon York—though leaving a strong enough garrison to hold it until I return."

⸻

"And what of our prisoner?" Hvitserk asked. "The bishop?"

Ivar took a sip from his cup. "What do you propose?"

"He seems important. We could ransom him back to the Saxons for a hefty sum."