In which Freya Ylvasdottir has been prophecied by the Seer to be destined to betray her mother, Queen Ylva the Dread and Bjorn Ironside, her mother's husband, and no matter what she does to try to avoid her fate, all roads lead back to the betrayal...
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Near Repton in Mercia, where they had set up camp, Freya sat with the sons of Ragnar, including Bjorn, beside Hvitserk. Ylva was also there, sitting Bjorn.
"It seems to me that the Saxons are as timid as frightened women," Ivar spoke up with an amused look on his face, "Their hearts are faint. I don't think they can trouble us."
"You don't know enough, Ivar," Bjorn complained in an annoyed tone, "You haven't seen enough. These are brave men."
"Bjorn is right," Ylva spoke up, defending her husband, "He and I have fought against them before. You have not."
"I can only see what my eyes tell me, Ylva," Ivar replied in an arrogant tone, "And what I see is frightened people running before us. I see their spineless God running away from our gods."
"For once, why don't you just listen to an older, wiser brother?" Ubbe suggested, growing annoyed with Ivar as he handed him a cup of mead.
"Clearly, he can't," Freya commented as she rolled her eyes, "It's impossible for him."
"These people who are running away, they're not warriors," Ubbe reminded his brother as he looked directly at him, "They are not the ones who will stay and fight to defend this kingdom."
"And protect their honor," Sigurd pointed out in a calm tone, "For what is a warrior without his honor?"
Hearing his words, both Ivar and Freya began to laugh. "I don't know. You tell me, brother. And, tell me again, how many battles have you fought?"
"Same as you, brother, except I don't ride around in a comfortable bloody chariot!" Sigurd snapped at Ivar, earning a glare from the youngest son of Ragnar.
"What you have to learn, Ivar, is that if you break up the brotherhood, we shall not succeed," Bjorn complained in a stern tone, "We have many challenges ahead of us. So, if you want to keep arguing and whining like a little girl, then I suggest you leave. We don't need you."
"Oh, but you do need me," Ivar argued back in a confident tone, "Why do you think Father chose me to come with him to England?"
"Here we go," Ylva muttered under her breath as she rolled her eyes.
"He had a reason for doing so. He told me I was the one who would act for him, who would make sure he was revenge," Ivar ranted, but it was clear that Bjorn wasn't taking him seriously.
Bjorn lifted the cut-off the head of the stag he had killed, placing it in front of his own face to act as though he was the stag. "If that's what you want to think, then think it," He spoke in a teasing tone, causing the whole group to laugh, including Freya.
"I understand it must be hard for you to accept that the true heir to the great Ragnar Lothbrok should turn out to be a cripple and a reject," Ivar complained and Ylva groaned loudly, clearly growing aggravated with all their bickering.
