Chapter 2: Ragnar

Ragnar's guttural roar tore through the morning silence of the village. A sudden look of confusion came across his features as he scanned the small hearth of his wooden room.

"What is this folly? Have I not died?" After close inspection, it would seem that he hadn't been ripped to shreds by the explosion but was instead lying on a hard straw bed.

His mother, Helga, came running in through the door with tears of joy streaming down her face, a lady coming on in her years but still mighty pretty. Her lovely Norman ice blue eyes complemented the long blonde hair that reached her butt.

"Oh Ragnar, my dear boy. I'm so glad the fever has broken. Sweating sickness has taken hold of the village and has just started to clear up. They weren't sure you would survive the night." She gushed as she hugged him. "I knew you would hold strong, my boy, they told me not to be next to you, so I had to be tortured from afar the entire day."

Ragnar looked at this weirdly dressed heathen and nearly shoved her away before he realized that he had two sets of memories in his brain. One was Ragnar Sigvald, part of a decorated warrior family sworn into service for the Baron of Le Havre. Currently, 19 years of age in this body of his.

The second was of Nathan Algren, a military officer who had disgracefully failed a search and rescue mission and was killed in the ensuing explosion. Ragnar was truly amazed by the powers of God. Had he received a new life? Just what was going on?

Before he could further deduce the situation, he heard the groan of wood under heavy thumps coming towards his room. The door was pushed open, and through it came a solid blonde mass of muscle standing close to 6' 5" with a snickering expression that stretched the long scar that ran down the right side of his face.

"Looks like my shite little brother managed to survive this infection that's out killing all the peasants. Shame, I wanted to be the sole inheritor of our family glory."

He continued to drivel on about how only the strong would survive and that we were a family destined for greatness.

Ragnar sat back to think about the situation further as the memories of his life before this came flooding into his head. This world was an Alternate Earth, set in the Early Medieval Period. Their father was the marshal of the Barony of Le Havre, a port town in the Duchy of Normandy. Though many events were still historically accurate to what he remembered, there were still differences that had impacted the current events.

In this timeline, the Duke of Normandy - William, the Bastard, hadn't managed to secure rule over his territory. Especially with the scheming of King Henry of France, the rule of Duke William over his subjects was shaky at best. The English throne was being coveted by many, and William didn't have the security to ensure his place on the English throne.

King Henry was also facing issues with Middle and East Francia. Constant warring had placed the state in jeopardy. Also, according to the history books, Rollo and his band of warriors were to be converted to Catholicism before inheriting the Duchy of Normandy. But due to lack of power, Charles the Simple couldn't enforce such a rule leading to them being heretics on French soil following Norse. The religion of traditional Vikings and branded as Norse paganism by the Catholics and other monotheistic religions. Over time, this slight detail led to further issues in the French court, which has caused the current situation.

There were just too many changes for Ragnar to name off the top of his head. If he wanted to know about the power structure, he would have to ask his father or research this further in his spare time.

The headache caused by the merger of both memories caused an ensuing headache that worried his mother. She immediately turned towards his elder brother, Thorkell.

"Thorkell, go fetch us a physician, would you?"

"Bah, useless brother, wasting our precious coin" Thorkell turned around and lumbered out of their modest home.

A shiver went down his spine as he wondered how absolute dog shit the current physicians would be. It's not like it was even semi-modern. These were early medieval doctors. Trained in the art of observation. All they could do was hold experiments and see what would work. With a chagrined expression on his face, Ragnar was left alongside this stranger to contemplate what life would be like shortly. His desire to reclaim glory through battle was ever-increasing.

"Leave me, mother, I wish to be alone for a moment." He ordered his mother out the door, collecting his thoughts while pondering his next steps of action.

"Well, I'll get you some warm stew then, eh, Ragnar?" Helga walked out the door after Ragnar nodded in approval, questioning what had happened to her son.

He would like to figure out more about the world he was in as it didn't look like a straight replica of history.

A forlon expression came across his face as he thought about his friends and family that had been left behind in the previous world, before the expression turned to one of rage.

"I won't let what happened to me occur ever again. I'd rather die by the sword in battle than as an assassin in the middle of the night, trying to save God knows who from shit that they deserve" Ragnar clenched his fist in determination as he looked up to the ceiling in memory of his fallen brothers.

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