The Story of Brae Lothbrok

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"What are you planning to do?" Ubbe asked.

"I'm going to assemble my army, reorganize, and strategize, and takedown King Erik or King Durgnar." I waved my hand. "He names himself after the dead."

"How are you going to take him down? Thorun tried that already," Ubbe said.

"Thorun was a good soilder, but his leadership skills lacked greatly, he always doubted me." 

"Then why did you keep him around?" Ubbe asked as I looked at him, "No one doubts the grandson of Ragnar Lothbrok!" 

"I guess I needed him around to prove how wrong he was, I don't think that wasn't smart," I said. 

"He's dead now, what is the strategy?"  

"I will use the armies given to me by Ingrid as a gift to Lilja, use what is left of my army, and that will bring me to a hundred thousand men..." 

"How many generals do you still have?" He asked.

I scoffed, "None. They have all sacrificed themselves to save the armies." 

"When do we attack?"

"We don't know much of their vulnerablity, these men...are not men...they are something not of our existance, Ubbe," I said.

"Not even the Gods," Ubbe commented. "I'm frightened," He added. "If he means to conqure the world, Brae, it is the end of everything we've ever known, you do know that?"

I chuckled, "No, Uncle, I do understand and I'm going to do everything I can...." "I'm going to send a scout during the day and one at night..." "Learn their weaknesses and while their scouting I can train the army." Ubbe nodded.

He stood up as he held his back. He groaned as he stumbled to his bed. "You're worried about me and the army, meanwhile you can barely stand old man?" He sat down and looked over to me.

"Boy, I can't help my age is catching up to me."

"And I did mean I didn't want to bury another son of Ragnar...you are the last." 

"And if I were to die, I will die as the firstborn son of Ragnar and the last son to die." He laid down, rolling over and taking a nap. I would have to figure out how to keep him from fighting as much as possible. 

In the meanwhile, I assigned two boys who were known to be the town's thieves. They are sly and coy. They were quick like a fox and smart like an owl. They will be paid greatly and promised a spot on my next voyage. This is much to their mother's despair, but their father was highly honored. I've known him as a child and it is no wonder why his children are just as sly because he was as well.

My next concern was the remains of Sif's grave, I've asked the groundskeepers to come in. They were ragged and worn. They looked nothing like the royal grave diggers of Kattegat. One man's hair was singed from a fire and the other's skin was crackled and red. I sympathize with them both and offer them strong mead. They both guzzled it since it was the first drink they've had in weeks.

"Queen Olga..." the old man's shaky voice came, he is much shorter than the other, "Her grave remained untouched, although I can't say the same now." I sighed out of relief as my two foxes came running in. They had michvious smiles on their faces as if they had some good news to tell.

"King Brae," they both bowed. The young child approached me, he had short brown hair and blue eyes with freckles that covered his cheeks. His older brother had brown hair as well, but with a mature face and dark eyes.

"We have some news!" 

"Good, let's hear it!" 

"Well, they do sleep..." the blue-eyed boy said. It was to my relief.

"Although, sir...they are very strong, and require a lot of substance..." the elder boy said.

"They don't seem very smart, but they are very skilled..." the young boy said.

"They are much more skilled than our army." "They are zombies when they fight." Mindless. A lot puts me at a great disadvantage.

"There are no weaknesses?" I asked.

"Hardly."

"They are indestructible!" The elder man's voice came shaky. He stood up and turned to me. He gripped me. "They are monsters, truly monsters." I nodded as I set him down.

"I understand, but we can't sit by letting them destroy everything we love and work so hard to build!" 

The army did not need any training, I organized them from weakest to strongest. The army that Ingrid gave me would be in the middle. I'm not used to fighting in cities, just in open fields. It would be difficult, but I'm willing to use the city walls to my advantage. If the entiable were to happen I ordered the people to have the boats ready. Women and children will be first. They will sail to London and Kattegat. 

Ubbe was insistent about helping me lead the army, it was a big argument. I understand his want and need to help me he's Viking, but he is almost scared to the family.

"It is a great insult to me, Brae that you are telling me I can't fighting," his gruff voice came.

"I ought to have you sent back to London to be with my mother!" I said. "She needs you there." 

The shield-maidens were fiercely armed and ready. Some of them I've known in bed, others are childhood friends. They want revenge on the destruction of their homes. Their faces were painted blue and red, their eyes are darkened, and their courage stood out as some of the men stood nervously. 

I got onto my horse and gave the army one final glance. It is not as big that I'm used too seeing, and some have never seen combat, but I have my faith in all of them. They have proven their loyalty to me over and over again. 

"King Brae!" My young foxes called. They ran down the path and stopped in front of my horse.

"They are aware of your attack!" The young boy said, "They are assembling now."

I looked up to see my army become tense and timid. They trembled in their boots like lambs. I could not have that. I took a small bag of coins and tossed it to the boys.
"Take your family and leave here now! Find yourself a new home!" I said. They nodded as they ran off.

I looked up as my army became hysteric. The lines in which they were standing in began to break. Fear overwhelmed some as they took the liberty to end their suffers. 

"Look at you!" I shouted. "All of you! You are cowards over a few bullies!" I cried out.

"I've seen some of you fight against the Celtics in Ireland, the Giants of Northumberland...what is different about these brutes?" They became calm as they began to listen.

"Do I see the fear in your eyes or do I see anger and want for blood? Want blood for your loved ones who are right now in the Odin's Golden Hall of Valhalla! Want blood for your loved ones who are at the right hand of God! Are you going to allow all that you've worked for in this great Kingdom be taken away by a strogmorer?" 

People became hype as some nodded. Sadistic looks of rage and want of bloodshed became clear on the smiles and fire in the eyes of those who want their revenge. People began to raise their weapons and cry out. The cries and screams were so loud that it shook the very ground having my horse jump. 

"For Frankia!" I shouted.

FRANKIA.