Halfdan stared through the thick curtain of smoke at the impossibly beautiful exotic woman who languished on a silken cushion across from him. A wealth of satiny ebony skin swathed her body from head to toe, while intrigue saturated the atmosphere all about her. What an undeniable distraction she presented if a distraction was the purpose of his visit. Alas it was not. No, he'd come to liberate his mind of the one woman who still haunted him despite the vast sea which separated them. If only he could cast her from his thoughts as easily as Bjorn. He do so without a rearward consideration of the treasure of which he'd once been familiar.

"Halfdan the Black," the woman purred as her wide slanted almond shaped eyes raked over him. Interest and a hankering polished the darkened depths to a brilliance which could be likened to jeweled stones. "Why have you come?"

"You know me by name, yet you inquire over the reason for my visit." He moved to the edge of the cushion he reclined upon as he tilted his head to further consider her. "Tell me seer, did they have the right of it about you? Are or you just another teller of falsities for fortune?"

A smirk crested across her full lips as she pulled herself in an upright position. "Over half of what they speak about me is nothing more than fantastic inventions meant to astound foreigners such as yourself out of their weight in gold." She placed a palm to her nigh visible bosom. "The right of it as you say is, I'm merely a woman with the misfortune of being birthed into this existence with a near blind third eye."

"You're not a seer, then?" The first prick of annoyance attack his practiced patience. Was she yet another deceiver in a long line of false soothsayers? He had a mind to skewer this one for the price of his troubles.

"Near blind and being blind are not the same thing, hmm?" She reached for the chalice on the insignificant table which sat between them. "Even the one eyed man in the land of the blind is still king. Just as that is so, I know you're here because your mind is plagued by a woman you want nothing more than to misremember. Humph, how's that for not a seer?" She raised the chalice to him, before taking a healthy swallow from the jeweled cup.

He exhaled as the tension somewhat crept from his shoulders. "It's been many solstice cycles since I last cast my gaze upon her. Perhaps she's no longer a woman I can love. Perhaps, she's grown in girth or she's entered matrimony with another and now tends to a keep filled with his babes."

A brilliant white smile sincere in nature set her face aglow. "You believe that if she's forged ahead without you, then you'll be able to do the same." His head bobbed in confirmation. "My spirit animal tells me that it'll be beneficial for my heart to assist you in this endeavor, Halfdan the Black. Do you have anything of note which belongs to this would be romantic rival of mine?"

He hesitated for a moment. Not quite sure if he were prepared to part with the item he'd kept with him since he'd acquired it from Bonnie many summers before. With a sigh, he withdrew the gilded ceremonial dagger. Leaning forward, he placed it in her waiting palm. Upon contact, her head was snatched backwards by an unseen hand. Sizzling assaulted his ears. Burnt flesh scented the room. The seer's wail nigh shook the walls of the small keep. Swiftly, he yanked the dagger from her palm and her body folded in on itself. After he shoved the blade back in his trousers, he rounded the table to see to her. The first thing he noticed was the charred flesh wound on her forehead in the shape of an eye.

"W-Who...I-I...c-c-ouldn't see...too b-bright...l-like s-staring into the sun...v-very p-powerful," the seer stammered. "H-heard a v-voice...t-threatened t-to take my sight if I t-tried p-prying into her affairs again...w-who is t-this w-woman?"

"Many apologies, Seer," he said, while assisting her in an upright position. "I should've been more forthcoming. The woman I speak of is no mere woman."

"R-really?" She snapped as she pushed him aside to seize the chalice from its place on the table.

"She's the Supreme of my people," he said, sitting next to her.

Her scrunched expression went taut. "The Supreme? The Supreme! The Supreme of all supernatural matters and not just your people!" She began slapping him on the arms and the back with one hand, while balancing the chalice filled with mead in the other. "And you had me seek her out and interfere in her affairs? She could've cast me out for such an offense."

"Forgive me, Seer," he once again apologized.

She raked a simmering glare over him. "You may call me Naya. Yet it remains to be seen if my forgiveness will be forthcoming. The burden of convincing me will be solely on your shoulders Halfdan the Black."

****

"They mean to weaken us," Ivar said, while dragging a palm up one of Bonnie's calves. "That was Alfred's purpose of attacking our hunting party. Had you not come upon them, they would've slaughtered our warriors and pilfered the day's hunt."

Bonnie finished the last braid in his hair. She then leaned down and kissed his shoulder. "It's that damn Bishop of theirs. He wants everyone to think him clever with that dated battle tactic." Her lip quirked just thinking about the holier than thou pervert. "When in truth, it's nothing more than a hail Mary after his humiliating last defeat."

"You have the right of it, my Love." He angled his body just so to nip her inner thigh. "Yet, we'll allow him to think himself clever. Let him believe his strategy is working. Only when it is too late will he know the error of such a judgement."

"Oh, he's not getting off that damn easy with just knowing, believe that! For the unnecessary beating he put on Ubbe, I plan to give the good Bishop something he can feel even after he joins the Ancient of Days on the other side," she said swinging a leg over him to stand. The turn Heahmund and Aethelwulf gave to Ubbe who only sought out peace still shot liquid rage through her veins and arteries.

"My Love," Ivar struggled for a moment to stand, before finally discovering his footing. He reached down to adjust the semi-hard prick lengthening its way down the leg of his trousers. Attempting not to stare, she turned away to stare in the mirror as her sorcery readied her for the day. If she even hinted at an interest in the package coming together in his pants, he'd pounce. She barely managed to walk straight as it was. "Ubbe deserved what came of him in the Saxon camp. You and I both counseled him on the mishaps that could befall us all by appealing for peace too soon. Yet, he still chose to slip away under the cover of darkness to meet with the Wessex King. He's lucky they allowed him to depart with his life."

She spun from the mirror to hurl visual battleaxes at him, all while swatting at the wide tooth comb floating near her head. "No, they're the lucky ones! Had they'd done something as foolish as sending Ubbe to the other side, then this war would've been over quicker than you could say, the king is dead!"

"Do not mistake my soundness for acceptance of what occurred with Ubbe and Hvitserk," he said as he limped over to her. "Aethelwulf and his Bishop will answer for every humiliation and brutality they hoisted upon my brothers. Now come, you know how you can become when you're delayed in breaking your fast." He leaned down to press his lips to hers, before entwining her arm with his and leading her from the room.

When they entered the part of the castle she'd renovated for the dining area, the room bustled with activity. Laughter and raised voices greeted them. Her gaze drifted over the space and landed on Hvitserk who sat alone at one of the tables. He glanced about as if he didn't know what to do with himself. Guilt came for her like she'd dropped down on it and made her good-good pop while in a split. She practically begged Hvits to stay and now she couldn't even be bothered to spare him a minute in an hour. No! Her disregard of him ended that day.

"Hvits," she called out to him as she coaxed Ivar to pause. Surprise flared Hvitserk's gaze upon hearing her speak his name. "Why are you sitting there and not the great table on the platform?"

Hvitserk's anxious stare flicked to Ivar who attempted to play the part of the unassuming and innocent. "I-I...well-,"

"Come, we're your family and from this rising forth you'll always take your meals with us." She held out her free hand to him, before casting her gaze to Ivar. "Right, babe?"

An indulgent smile captured his lips. "Of course, my Love. Come join us, brother."

Hvitserk's brows traveled to his hairline as he sucked down enough air for an army of the oxygen deprived and inclined his head in a nod. Lifting his plate, he followed them to the great table and took the seat to her right. Once settled he began to pick at his food, only eating pieces of meat every so often. He appeared anxious and even more unsure of himself than usual.

"Is the fare not to your liking, Hvitserk?" Ivar questioned after taking a gulp from his tumbler.

"No." She felt Hvits tense next to her, his grip so tight on his eating dagger his knuckles looked close to bursting from his skin. "I heard talk of Prince Alfred's attempts on our last hunting party. I'm just pondering what we'll do if their next efforts should yield success. If the Wessex King manages to prevent our warriors from hunting then-,"

Ivar scoffed as he settled back in his seat. "Do you believe me as thoughtless as I am boneless, Hvitserk?"

"Ivar!" she snapped, warning threaded throughout her tone. "Hvitserk's not questioning your intelligence or your clap back skills. He's merely-,"

Ivar slammed his fist down on the great table. "You'll not defend him or offer explanations on his behalf." The hall went silent, and all eyes shot to them. She took a gulp from her chalice to prevent her mate from being a victim of the cutting edge of her tongue in front of all of his warriors. "Hvitserk will answer for Hvitserk. Is he not a man capable of speaking his thoughts without the assistance of my betrothed?"

"Hvits is more than man-," she began.

"Hjarta, be at ease," Hvitserk placed a hand on her wrist. Her gaze swung to meet his. The emotion which greeted her in his gaze thrilled and confused her all at once. He tore his stare away to regard Ivar. "I don't believe you to be witless in the matters of warfare, brother. My only bid is to be involved in your plans so that I may offer my sword and counsel."

Pleasure burst her chest wide. A smile blossomed upon her lips. She covered the hand he still rested upon her wrist with her own. What an attractive sight he presented when he decided to rely on his mind instead of depending on others.

"Why'd you jump ship, Hvitserk?" Ivar's question drew her gaze back to him. He scrutinized Hvits through narrowed eyes.

"Why question what you already know, brother?" Hvitserk answered in a tone uncompromised by pander or deception.

"Hmm," Ivar rested his hand on the small of her back. "After first meal we'll discuss my plans and plot strategies."

Hvitserk nodded in response.

****

Guthrum parried another blow of his mother's sword with the broad side of his blade upon his ax. This rising aggression appeared to be interwoven within her training. Each of her blows came swifter and heavier than the last. He didn't know if her alteration in temperament was due to Bjorn's refusal to return to Kattegat before sailing to the Mediterranean or Bonnie giving herself to Ivar. He just knew since hearing Ubbe's news several new moons ago, she'd been sullen, curt, and content to keep her own counsel. The only habit she seemed minded to continue was his training.

"Enough, Guthrum!" His mother lay sprawled on her back in the mud glaring up at him from behind her shield. Wilbur grunted from his place under the store table, his snout buried in a jar of honey. "You've beaten me into literal submission. Now aid me to my feet." Reaching down a hand, she rediscovered her footing a swift move later. "What're your hinderances? Ever since you've heard word of Bonnie you've grown distracted. Hali tells me you haven't tutored him in the ways of Bonnie's land in risings. Asa says you refused to even speak to her of Bonnie last eve. Has her taking Ivar as a lover enraged you so you wish your siblings to share in your ill will towards her as well?"

He blinked, not quite comprehending his mother's claims of him wishing the woman he loved without condition ill will over decision not left to her to make. He'd always known Bonnie would take Ivar as a mate. Ayanna and the first witch had spoken of this to him almost three solstice cycles ago. He'd been well prepared for Ubbe's news.

"I harbor no ill will towards Bonnie. It's quite the opposite and well you know. I've not tutored Hali in several risings because he's being disciplined for allowing Wilbur to consume several risings worth of honey in one feeding. Asa was deep in slumber when I visited last eve. I believed it best not to stir her considering she doesn't give over to rest with ease," he explained as he sheathed his sword.

"Oh, well," she said appearing uncertain of herself. "Many apologies, Guthrum. I shouldn't have spoken until I had the right of it."

He raised a hand. His mother's contrition was of no use to him. "There is no cause for apologies, mother. Especially since your inquiry was motivated by concern for me. Yet, I too share this same concern for you."

Her pale brows traveled towards her hairline. She placed a hand to the cradle of her breasts. "Me!"

"Yes." He clasped his hands behind his back as he eyed her. "You've appeared troubled as of late."

"I've had many things to ponder since Ubbe's arrival." She sat on the wooden steps of Bonnie's space in the marketplace.

He joined her on the steps. "And what are the nature of these things you've pondered?"

"I fear my marriage to your stepfather has come to an end. I've known it to be so since before he set a course for England." She stared at the passerby's, however her gaze appeared unseeing. "Yet, Ubbe's news of him journeying on to the Mediterranean without returning to Kattegat first to see how we fared all but confirmed the conclusion of our matrimonial bonds."

"I'm sorry, mother," he said. For he was truly regretful for the pain his mother endured by loving a man who was never destined to love her in the same respect.

She turned to smile at him even as tears polished her eyes. "So am I, Guthrum." Interlacing her fingers with his, she cast her gaze towards the sea. "So am I."

After he finished training with his mother he returned to Bonnie's keep. He'd dwelled there since his seventeenth summer. Being among her things eased the ache within him her absence provoked. One would believe that time would fill the hollow she left behind. Yet, with each solstice cycle his agony grew a bit worse.

He disrobed and washed himself with a bucket of water he'd placed next to her bed before he departed that morn. Once cleansed, he reclined on the mattress. He closed his eyes and inhaled. The flowered and enchanted wild scent which greeted his senses had long since faded and now was conjured by his memory alone. His hand slid under one of the pillows and met the smooth parchment it sought. Exhaling, he withdrew his greatest treasure from its place of hiding. He opened his eyes to Bonnie's smiling face. The heaviness in his heart somewhat lightened as the corners of his mouth lifted.

"How was your rising, my favored girl?" He whispered to Bonnie's likeness, while caressing the face with the pad of his thumb. "I long for the rising when you're able to speak to me of your adventures in England. Until then I shall speak to you of my rising...or day...as you prefer I say when we're alone." He spit in his hand, and then wrapped it around his man stand. "This day I helped to fortify the harbor. Lagertha believes King Harald will return once more to lay claim to Kattegat. So we're to shore up our weaknesses for impending attacks." He tightened his grip and stroked his length. The muscles in his gut tautened, while a groan escaped his mouth through the clench of his teeth. "I also instructed Hali with his aim on the bow, and then I trained the rest of the day with mother. Now I'm here...plowing—no...making love...I read in one of the books you left behind women of your land prefer it to be called making love." He kissed the likeness. "I find that I prefer this term as wel—ugh...oh, Bonnie..." his stroke quickened as his hips left the bed, slamming into the makeshift hole of his hand.

Too soon, his seed shot from him to coat his hand, and the bottom of his belly. He cradled the likeness to his chest as his head dropped back on the pillow. His eyes rolled closed. "Rest with ease this eve, my favored girl," he murmured before slumber took him.

****

"My Prince, may I speak with you for a moment?"

The sound of Heahmund's voice drifted to Ethelred from just beyond the entrance of his tent. He exhaled a drawn out sigh as he placed the sword he'd been polishing to the side. "You may enter Bishop Heahmund."

Moments later the Bishop entered the tent alone. Heahmund's gaze darted over various items, before finally meeting his. "God has sent me a vision on how we will be victorious in this war against the Pagans."

"Really?" He allowed just a hint of a scoff to corrupt his features. "As opposed to the vision he sent you of the two witnesses and the city of York being littered with the dead emaciated bodies of our enemies?"

"Yes, yes!" Heahmund's head bobbed as he clasped his hands behind his back.

This time he permitted his scoff free reign of his face. "Then why are you here discussing this with me and not my father the king?"

"You see, that is a part of the vision," Heahmund ventured further into his private quarters. "He charged me to tell no one of this vision, but you, and in turn you're to enlist Prince Alfred."

His head cocked in question. "In what am I to enlist Prince Alfred?"

"Our father in heaven wants you and Prince Alfred to abscond with the Pagan's witch and bring her back here so I may put her to death." The Bishop lifted his chin as he locked his hands behind his back.

He shot to his feet and pinned Heahmund with a narrowed eyed glare. "God wants you to put Bonnie to death, he told you that in a vision?"

"W-well," he stammered, while blinking his way through an explanation, "perhaps not the put her to death bit but why else would our god want you to abscond with the Pagan's witch?"

"Oh, I don't know," he cast his glare toward the tinted ceiling, "Perhaps he favors liberating his Intercessor from the Pagans."

"Intercessor!" Heahmund's face mottled and puckered. "Sacrilegious!"

His eyes rolled as he gathered his sword. "Bishop Heahmund, have you yet had the opportunity to encounter Bonnie?"

"I don't need-,"

He sheathed his sword. "Then perhaps you should reserve judgement until you make her acquaintance." Heahmund opened his mouth to speak, but he continued. "Did your vision advise Alfred and I on how we were to take Bonnie from the Northmen?"

"Yes," The bishop cut his eye at him. "There is a hot spring she tends to frequent in the forest."