Hvitserk entered Ivar's throne room with heavy shoulders. He'd searched the whole of the castle, every crevice of the city and the surrounding forest. Still, Bonnie remained loss to them all. The weight in his chest was nigh unbearable. Upon his entrance into the room Ivar's head jutted up. Expectation manipulated his features. Like him, he hadn't slumbered in two risings time. Not since they'd noticed Bonnie's absence. Hvitserk didn't understand. Where could she have misplaced herself? For there's no way the Saxons would've been able to take her without her consent and by force. So what could've provoked her to take leave of the city?

"Well?" Ivar demanded as he struggled to stand. He leaned forward to rest the brunt of his weight on the great table. "What have you discovered? Was it the Saxons? Have they taken her? I will burn them all!"

"No! I mean-,"

"What do you mean, Hvitserk?!" Ivar roared.

"We can't be sure. Especially, since we're not sure what transpired before she became loss to us." He studied his youngest brother for a moment. From the way Ivar's shifty eyes refused to meet his gaze, Hvitserk sensed his brother wasn't revealing all to him. "Thomas spoke of last sighting her strolling here. Were you not the last to cast your gaze upon her?"

"How can I know such a thing?" Ivar's question left his lips hesitant in its inquiry.

Hvitserk's rage burned under his ever receding restraint. He exhaled to calm the steady build of his anger. "Well what did you speak of? What was her mind when you parted?"

"How am I to know a woman's-,"

"Ivar!" Hvitserk exploded, reaching the end of his patience. The door to the throne room slammed open and his brother's personal warriors rushed in swords drawn. Without casting his glare away from his brother, "Leave us and do not return until summoned." They remained just in the door staring at Ivar for confirmation. Not favoring having his orders questioned, he finally turned a searing eye to them. What they saw in his glare forced them to take several steps backwards. "You'll do as I ordered or I'll make sport of ripping the bones from each of your backs." This was enough to send them scurrying from the room. He whipped around to retrain his scrutiny on his brother. "Now explain to me what occurred between you and Bonnie?"

Ivar resettled on his stool as distress crept over his face. "She discovered me coupling with a slave girl."

"What?!" He stalked across the room to the wooden slab his brother sat behind. "How could you be so foolish? What is wrong with the sons of Ragnar that the Mother of all supernatural things isn't enough to sate their lusts? If Bonnie favored me as she did you all, she'd never know a moment of grief behind such betrayal."

Vengeful mystical energy rippled through the room. Ivar drove the blade of his dagger to the hilt into the slab of solid wood. "Do you believe I willingly gave myself to another? I had no control over my actions. The deities' will at work here was greater than that of my own. I was no more than a slave to my lusts."

"You and every other warrior in this castle. Yet, the difference with them is they don't charge the gods for over indulging their lusty appetites," he slammed his fist down on the make shift table. The wood groaned and shuddered.

Sincerity presented itself in his brother's persistent stare. "You and I both know well, lust has never been a stirring motivator for me. In verity, if not for Bonnie I doubt my prick would rouse at all. Just as it failed to rise afore for the same slave girl who I apparently couldn't stop myself from entering only risings ago." The pigmentation of his face developed a likeness to that of Bonnie's eyes. He turned away and retched. "Even now it sickens me to reflect upon being within that slave's cavernous parasitic sheath."

"Parasitic?" Hvitserk parroted as he plotted a course to follow each of his brother's points.

Ivar's gaze rolled to glare at the far wall. "She infested my crotch with louse. Sheila had to shave my prick and douse me in heated oil to rid me of them."

"If only Sigurd could sight you now," he snickered despite the gravity of the moment.

His brother's mournful eyes returned to him. "You must find her, Hvitserk. I can't slumber, eat, think, or be. Without her I'm truly crippled, brother."

"I will find her." He held his younger brother's gaze. "I swear it upon our love for her."

****

"We should depart. I'll wager the Northmen aren't far behind," Ethelred said as he left the depths of the forest after relieving himself. He glanced around, and then a frown gathered his brows together. "Where's Bonnie?"

Alfred spared him a glance before returning his attention back to the arranging and storing of their bedding. "She went to wash."

"Again?" He demanded as disbelief soared the pitch of his voice. "She just bathed yestereve! How natural is it for her to want to wash herself every time the thought of filth crosses her mind? Enough is enough!" He spun on his heels to march back into the forest.

"Ethelred!" Alfred hissed after him, but he refused to attend him.

Several moments later he came upon Bonnie floating on her back in the cleanliest lake he'd ever seen. He could see all the way to the bottom. Steam rose from the water, indicating itself as a hot spring. Since traveling with Bonnie they'd discovered quite a few among their journey.

"Intercessor, if we're to stay ahead of your Northmen, then we should depart with haste," he said managing to bar the curtness he felt from his tone.

A smile graced her arresting face. "Not until you allow me to bathe and groom you as well."

"I-I'm afraid that would be improper." He swallowed to relieve the dryness of his mouth.

She arched a brow. "To whom?"

"To god," he said, attempting to falsify his way through outrage.

"Yours or mine?" She questioned as she swam towards the bank.

He was about to answer when she left the waters wearing nothing more than the golden brown skin god had blessed her with. Sweet Mary, she was breathtaking. His gaze swept over her, not knowing which part of her to consider first. His cock swelled without further provocation. She reached out and began to disrobe him. His body loss its desire for air. He only wanted to invade her and inhale her while doing so. Her flowered and mystical scent intoxicated him like no other.

Once she had him as herself, she pressed her full breasts to his chests and angled her face to look up at his. "To whom would it be improper, Prince Ethelred, your god or mine?"

"Ours," he uttered in a broken whisper.

"Come," she said, her smile rather telling.

She led him into the water, then proceeded to bathe and groom him. The decadence of her touch relieved him of his seed twice. He'd never known such pleasure without being buried ball sack deep within a woman's sheath.

"Will you allow me to enter you?" He so wanted to become acquainted with the most intimate inner parts of her.

"No," She shook her head as she palmed his cheek. "My heart is spoken for and in turn so is my body. It isn't my right to offer you what I've already given to another."

"None of the sons of Ragnar can bestow upon you what I will," he said, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

A hint of a smirk disturbed her beautiful lips. "And what can you bestow upon me, my Prince, that it wouldn't gladden my love to give to me?"

"I'm willing to make you mistress to the King of Kings in England," he said, holding her gaze so she'd understand the gravity of what he truly offered her. "There would be no other woman in all of this land more elevated than you. Not even my wife when time comes for me to take one."

"I'd rather be a loved and cherished wife of a King of Norway than a mistress to the King of Kings in England." She backed out of his embrace. "Many apologies, Prince Ethelred, but I must decline your offer. Yet, I'll make you a counter offer. Allow me to mark you as my trusted and you have my vow that I'll come for you when you've reached your end. You'll not greet the other side alone, whether you decide to join the Ancient of Days or to embrace me and Nirvana."

****

"You've avoided me since your return, Ubbe," Margrethe's unwelcome voice met his ears as he took his leave of Sigurd's dwelling.

Most reluctantly, he turned to confront his ex-wife. "How have you fared, Margrethe?"

"How have I—Ubbe I haven't fared well at all. Soon after you sailed for England I lost our babe." Tears flooded her eyes to brimming. "Then Lagertha and Torvi have treated me no better than a slave. They've even set Guthrum and Bjorn's babes against me."

"I'm sorry life here hasn't been one of ease for you since I departed to avenge my father," he said, while attempting to step around her.

She thwarted his efforts by stepping into his path. "It's not your apologies I'm in need of, Ubbe!" She glared at Sigurd's keep. "Is this where you've dwelled since you've arrived?"

Agitated by her womanly display of emotions, his temper slipped from his grasp. "Why is my whereabouts your concern?"

Her eyes flared. "Why wouldn't I be concerned? You are my husband, Ubbe!"

Her declaration slitted his eyes. "No, Margrethe. We are wed no more! I broke our matrimonial bonds nigh a solstice cycle ago."

"What?!" Her shriek nearly bled his ears.

"You can't expect me to believe you're ignorant of this. Why, you had to have felt when the bonds-," The rest of his accusation dwindled to nothing as the full realization of Bonnie's sentencing of Margrethe sparked light in his unassuming mind.

Bonnie hadn't only cast her out of their society, she'd bodily removed her from the connection shared among his people. He'd always knew Bonnie's sorcery was great, yet he'd never believed her greater than the gods. Even when the All-Father bowed to and bled for her. He thought Odin suffered from lust as everyone else when they found themselves acquainted with Bonnie.

"This will not stand!" Margrethe cried, her hands clenched at her sides. "You swore an oath to me."

"That was neither ordained nor recognized by our people's Supreme," He invaded her space to tower over her. "You're no longer one with our people or the gods. You didn't even sense the severing of our matrimonial bonds."

"It matters not! You made me one with your people once more when you entered matrimony with me, and you'll honor your vow to me." She pointed her finger in his face as she hissed at him through the slits of her teeth and glared at him from slitted lids. "Our people and queen will see to it."

****

Hvitserk kneeled next to the clear waters of the lake. He placed his hand just beneath the surface of the faultless depths. Hmm, still warm. He was close. He'd be upon them in a half rising's time. For the last two risings since he'd come across Bonnie's trail he'd hunted her steps. From the tracks she'd left in her wake, he'd discovered she didn't travel alone. Two other males journeyed with her.

Hvitserk wasn't certain of his Hjarta's intent for seeking her leave of York with two unknown males. Yet he was certain she didn't mean to remain loss to them. For if she didn't want to be discovered she would've never left the lakes in such a state nor littered her abandoned camp sites with the little flowers she favored which only grew in his homeland. Flowers he'd often left among her offerings. He never believed she knew, however, the brazen display of her leavings spoke over much of her awareness of him. He pondered just how much she really knew of his devotion for her.

"Hvitserk, we discovered this near the water," Thomas said, holding up what appeared to be a cape embroidered with the royal crest of Wessex near the breast. "Does this mean the Saxons have taken her?"

Hvitserk snatched the heavy woolen material from the warrior and attempted to set the garb afire by visual means. "Inform the party we'll be riding on from here. We shall be upon them soon."

Thomas nodded before turning to relay his orders. Why'd the Prince of Wessex take Bonnie? Even still, why'd she allow him to take her? Was this yet another plot exacted by the beginner of her line? He wouldn't be taken unawares to discover her manipulations at work. At work in the same way they'd been when she'd visited him at Bonnie's keep the eve before they set sail for England. That eve she'd confirmed he and Bonnie's fate lay upon interwoven paths. Yet she'd implored him to step aside so she and Ivar would grow closer. She assured him Bonnie's continued existence depended on she and his brother forming an unbreakable bond. So to keep her safe he feigned indifference to her charms and watched as her affections grew for his youngest brother.

Yet he never believed he'd have to witness the breaking of her heart as well. Had he understood this to be a part of the witch's schemes his agreement wouldn't have been so forthcoming. Though to be just, he believed Ivar's betrayal of Bonnie wasn't betrayal at all. He believed the entire occurrence to be nothing more than divine intervention. For Ivar's love for Bonnie rivaled his own.

Ivar's gaze never strayed far from Bonnie when she was near. When she wasn't about he studied the door of wherever he dwelled until her presence enchanted the entrance and she lingered at his side once more. Ivar only had two obsessions in this life, fame and Bonnie. Those two conquests were the only motives which would've provoked his ambitious brother to open such easily parted thighs. Since neither could be found in the uninspiring muff of the slave girl his blamelessness in the matter wasn't difficult to sight.

The cloak crumpled in Hvitserk's fist as he stalked over to his horse. He mounted the beast in one swift move. Soon he'd have his Hjarta within his arms, while the blood of an English prince dripped from the point of his blade. There'd be no rest for any of them until both of those things came to past.

****

"What is it about the Northmen that seduces God's most sacred?" Prince Alfred asked without removing his gaze from the path which lie ahead.

Agitated for having to travel on horseback and only half listening, the skin between Bonnie's brows rippled. "Excuse me?"

"You are aware King Aethelwulf isn't my natural father. That Athelstan, Ragnar's most beloved friend was," this time he did spare her a glance. "For a time he too thought himself capable of abandoning all he knew for the pagan Gods. Yet in the end he embraced what he knew to be right and just, or so I've heard it spoken."

"Why're you comparing me to Athelstan, Prince Alfred?" She questioned as she permitted her stare to linger on Ethelred's back.

The elder prince had chosen to ride ahead of them and sulk. Something he'd taken to doing since she'd dodged his shot earlier that afternoon. Which was more than fine. If pouting eased his pride she more than welcomed him to do so. As long as he was safe from spiritual manipulation, he could have him an entire one man pity parade if he were so inclined. He'd accepted her mark. Allowed himself to be bathed and groom. Her supernatural covering would protect him from Inadu's possession and influence. Their involvement with each other had reached its conclusion. At least until he passed from this life to the next.

"Like my true father, you too, are a vessel of god. And like him, you allow yourself to be used by the Northmen," Alfred said without anger or venom compromising his tone.

Alfred's declaration snatched her attention from Ethelred and dropped the full weight of her regard on him. "If you're to be king one day you should learn well not to speak on subjects in which you lack knowledge."

"And you'd do well to learn Wessex's line of succession. For it is likely I shall never be king," he said giving her an amused look which sparked from his eyes without disturbing his mouth.

"Again, he proudly spouts ignorance though he dwells in the land of unawareness," she said cutting an eye at him.

He laughed and this time allowed his lips to settle in a genuine smile. "Then perhaps you should invite me into your land of all knowing, Intercessor. I'm certain it'll prevent me from committing such blunders in the future."

"The people of the North are sons and daughters under my dominion. They don't scheme and take advantage of what I've so willingly bestowed upon them." She returned her gaze to the path.

"Will you forsake us because you favor them?" Alfred questioned. His tone ever gentle and lacking accusation.

She exhaled as she turned his words over in her mind. Though the English kingdoms held its share of supernaturals within its lands, most didn't belong to her. They departed from her oversight when they chose to create a covenant with the Ancient of Days. So it wasn't she who'd forsaken them, it was them who chose to turn a blind eye to the Goddess of All.

"I haven't forsaken anyone," she shifted on her horse to relieve the ache in her ass.

"Yet you fight for their cause under their banner against my kingdom." He tugged on his reigns and urged his horse closer to hers.

"My anger with England died with Ecbert. Between you and me, we aren't much longer for these shores. My betrothed grows restless and will soon set his sights on another conquest," she said. "You'll have your country back soon enough, Prince Alfred."

Alfred's features drooped a bit. "Then it's true, you do fancy yourself in love with Ragnar's youngest son Ivar."

"I'm afraid my heart or energy doesn't know how to do anything but love Ivar," she revealed with a candidness which made them both uncomfortable. Yet down the rabbit hole they continued to go.

"Then I've condemned myself," he said, casting his gaze away from hers.

She turned to look at him full on. "Condemned yourself how?"

"It's nothing of import. Come, I believe Ethelred may want us to make camp here." With that said, he urged his horse ahead.

****

"This is senseless!" Ubbe growled through the clench of his teeth as he glared up at Lagertha who perched upon her throne. "It is my right as a man to divorce Margrethe if I discover her to be unsatisfactory as a bride. Asides, our marriage wasn't recognized by the Supreme of our people, so our matrimonial bonds weren't truly bound."

Margrethe whimpered next to him, before sobbing louder into her hands. His eyes rolled at her act. He still couldn't grasp her boldness. She a former slave, having the audacity to request a judgement against him, a former prince! After the lie she'd spoken to trick him into matrimony with her, she should consider herself fortunate it wasn't him seeking judgement against her.

Glee polished Lagertha's eyes as she moved her gaze from he to Margrethe. "That may be so, but Margrethe has lived among us as one of us since your departure for England. It would be unjust if not unkind to not at least hear her complaint." Her brows and shoulders rose. "And you did free her without my consent. What man would risk the displeasure of his queen if not a man in love?"

Ubbe scoffed. "A man who mourned the death of his mother and wanted nothing more than to spite her murderer." Torvi glared down at him, while Lagertha still appeared amused. "Admit it, you only insist on this hearing to humiliate me. You care not for the severing of Margrethe's and my matrimonial bonds."