3 book of the series
Feeling the anger well up, she slowly rose from the table, " No one will come and save us! Alfred will marry a Mercian lady, and they will form a strong alliance to overthrow these heathens" -her eyes bore deeply into Elfreda's...
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Ubbe did his best to ignore the jealousy in his stomach. It was bubbling. His brother, psychotic brother who killed his other brother, turned Kattegat into a ghost town, was now enjoying the arms of a loving woman. Well, not that Ronja seemed much loving to him. But what made him deserve that? Why did the Gods deem him worthy of getting a chance at true love? Why wasn't he worthy of growing old with a woman who carried his child.
He stared at Ronja, that woman was cold, that was maybe why the Gods matched them. Both of them had the same appetite for gore. He still vividly remembered their kiss as both of them walked bloodied on the battlefield. Ronja's stomach was already bloating. She was probably seven months along and was quite big. He wouldn't dare to tell her that. Even pregnant and with sickness from the sea, she still looked frightening. He wouldn't tell her that either.
He could see as men avoided the duo. That didn't surprise him. Ronja was especially snappy when someone did what she didn't like. And Ivar, well Ivar would kill anyone without a reason before meeting the woman and now it just doubled. They were halfway through the travel and he had already sent a male toppling over the boat for rolling his eyes at Ronja. The two were chaotically psychotic, but at least they had each other. He had no one.
His eyes turned to his other brother. Hvitserk was laying on the prow of the boat. He looked sickly pale but at least he wasn't drinking anything. His brother was also broken. He barely spoke a word since he agreed to come with them. After all, he had the same luck with women as Ubbe.
He hated the feeling of despair that settled inside him. Why did every woman he had ever been with died or desired another? Gods must be truly despising him. Once he could see the shore his breath hitched. This was it. They were going to march past York and claim a castle there. The rumors of Osberht the deposed king taking refuge there with his daughter had reached even the Danes. There were also rumors that his daughter Æthelthryth was going to marry Alfred of Wessex, the brother to King of Wessex. Ronja said that they would capture the woman and ruin any chance of uniting the kingdoms of Wessex and Northumbria.
The plan was good but as he saw the army rounding the hill above the shore he doubted it. Ronja barely consulted the plan with him and now the nerves were getting to him. He could see Osberth at the front line. If that was the King at least he was facing them head-on. Maybe he was being dumb for trusting Ivar's and Ronja's plan. He barely had any time to think about it when he tottered forward from the force of ship meeting land. People around him started jumping from the ship. Roars and metal clashing with shields echoed around him.
His eyes settled on his brother kissing Ronja before throwing himself over the ship. He was roaring with excitement as he started to climb up the hill. Ronja smirked his way. Of course, she was waiting for the attention of the archers to shift to the soldiers running their way. He was surprised that Ivar let his pregnant woman into the battle. But then he noticed how Gorm helped her over the boat. He was clearly going to be there to protect her. As he looked around himself he noticed that their army looked smaller.
Their people crawled up the hill. He didn't want to be left behind and soon threw himself into the water. His boots soon catch the sand. He ran. His sword hit the ground as he helped himself up. Once his head popped behind the hill he clambered back down. Those arrows flying past his head were truly pissing him off. He jumped up and ran. His whole body was covered in sweat once he met the hord of soldiers. He let out a battle cry as his sword met his enemy.
*
He wiped the sword over someone's leg. Then he rolled his shirt and wiped it over his face. Bodies littered the ground around him. His head snapped to the painful yells at his side. Ronja's knife was gliding over the male's cheek.
"Well, are you Osberth?" Ivar translated her sentence into English. The man nodded, his eyes filled with tears. Ronja scoffed, "Is every man here pathetic as him." She bent forward her face coming closer to the frightened male.
They have easily overcome their enemy. Ronja made a plan where their people came from behind making the English army surrounded. Now it seemed that it was time for another plan.
A smirk took over her lips, "Even I have bigger balls than you." People around him laughed. The Englishman only looked at her with confusion. Of course, he didn't understand, she was talking Danish. Ronja was still learning English and even though she understood most of the words, putting a sentence together was harder.
"Tell us about your daughter how is she?" The confusion on his face was overtaken with fright once Ivar translated it once more. He started begging, he himself probably didn't know what for. Ronja laughed even though she probably didn't understand him. Ivar rolled his eyes before commanding with his hand. They were going to walk. Their surprise attack didn't seem to be surprising at all.
