Drunken laughter pounded the walls. Slurring skols bled together in a cacophony of voices. Revelers, warriors, shieldmaidens and even harbor women filled the hall to nigh bursting. Everyone wanted to praise the boneless king on his defeat against Bjorn Ironside. They all wanted to bask in his greatness. If they only knew him. Really knew him the way Freydis knew him, then they'd seek out another way to squander their eve.

King Ivar! The slaughter of babies, and the bruiser of those he deemed weaker than him. There was nothing neither godly, kingly, nor daring about him. His gods should've never allowed him to triumph over his enemies that rising. Such unwarranted good fortune bequeath to the likes of him turned her innards. Why wasn't he made to suffer? The same way she suffered every rising she awakened in a world without the benefit of her children. Were it in her power, had she the means, he'd never know a moment of peace or contentment.

Freydis raised her chalice to guzzle down more of her mead. Her stare flicked over the throng of people and collided with a woman who watched her with an aqua stare. She stood at the edge of the celebration near the private quarters of the long house. Freydis' breath caught. Had she returned with Baldur? The woman's stare lingered a moment longer, before she turned to walk further into the personal quarters.

Freydis glance swept the hall until it landed on her disgusting husband. By then he'd sunk so deep in his cups he'd embraced slumber upon one of the tables. Her gaze lingered on him for a moment. When assured he'd met his match in his tankard and he'd not follow, she left the bale of hay he'd replaced for her throne. She trailed the woman to the back and discovered her in her bed chambers staring out the window. Before she could inquire of her sweet baby the woman spoke.

"I'm told you have a mind to redeem yourself for the crimes you've committed against the innocent." The sound of the woman's voice gave her pause, but the sight of her when she turned to face her nigh provoked her to flee. The pagan's Supreme. "Does this still hold true?"

She clasped her hand in front of her to still her nerves and clear her throat. "Yes, this is still my mind...Supreme." Freydis now knew the deity before her was indeed who many claimed her to be.

In her foolish attempts to be more than her lowly birth offered her, she'd bargained with an evil spirit. Used her blood to enslave an English kingdom and to become a Viking King's wife. Yet in the end, she'd sacrificed more than she'd gained. Oh how witless she'd been! She'd allowed her ignorance, jealousy, and anger to make an enemy of the mother of all supernatural things.

The Supreme watched her with an unflinching stare which skewered Freydis' head until she too knew of all her mistakes and regrets. "And what will you have in exchange?"

Freydis shook her head. For nothing remained in life she wished to claim. Everything she held dear now dwelled out of reach just beyond the veil. "I only ask for peace."

"Hmm." The Supreme abandoned her place at the window to close the distance between them. Her expression was severe and unyielding. "Steal away to the opposing army's camp while everyone is still well with in their cups. While there, speak with Bjorn Ironside. Tell him to take as many men as he can without being noticed to my cove. There next to my daughter's grave he'll find a solution for getting pass Kattegat's defenses."

"What if he doesn't believe me?" She sputtered, reconsidering her go at redemption. "He'd surely gut me on sight!"

The Supreme withdrew a gilded bracelet from her cloak and held the ring out to her. "Give him this and tell him, his Mystical One didn't stop wearing his sacred arm ring because she no longer believed in the spirit of our vow." She paused to fix her gaze on the bracelet, after a moment of silence she continued. "The reason I stopped wearing his sign of protection is because the loss it represented proved too great of a burden to bear."

The Supreme moved passed her to seek her leave. "I know that it matters not, but I'm so very sorry for..." she couldn't even bring herself to speak the words. The Supreme halted in her leave taking, and then turned about to regard her with a slitted stare. Freydis hastened her words. "I thought you killed my daughter...for lying with Ivar."

In a matter of steps the Most High stood before her once more. Scorching rage crackled across her face. "I would never harm a baby!" The Supreme spat at her. Fury ignited the leafy pigmented hue of her eyes. "Only the vilest of monsters can premeditate and act out taking the life of an innocent child." A legion of accusations congregated in her glare as she burdened her with a glower that nigh buckled her knees. "Do as you say...carry out this task without fault and I vow, you shall have the peace you so crave."

Relief forced a breath from her mouth before she thought better of her situation. "But how will I get pass the guards at the gates?"

The Supreme brush pass her once more in search of her leave. "Oh, I'll leave that bit to you." Halting, the Most High angled her head to sneer at Freydis over a shoulder. The divine woman's jewel like gaze then swept her from face to boots. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

****

Bonnie stepped from the in between into her bedroom. A blend of foreign emotions engulfed her. Emotions she'd locked away over a Solstice Cycle ago to avoid. Though the affection blazed through her in the purest form of love she'd ever experienced, her memories of times gone by forced her heart to remain reluctant. Cherished recollections provoked her to suffer guilt for inappropriate feelings she'd never wanted.

The view twinkling from the open doors of the balcony beckoned to her. She crossed the distance to offer the sight her regard rather than lending her attention to the waiting distraction lingering in her room.

Once on the balcony she gripped the railings and scrutinized the inky horizon beyond the harbor. After a moment she spoke, "You being here before the city is reclaimed is dangerous, Guthrum. You shouldn't have risked your neck like this!"

"I can no longer feel you and you haven't acknowledged one of my letters in months," his calm voice drifted to her from her bedroom. "Such a loss cripples me. It makes me feel...not whole." Her eyes closed as she braced herself against the thrill the edge of his voice stirred within her. "For I can't remember when I didn't feel you. Even during your prolonged time in England I still felt you with me."

A tear trickled down her cheek. She'd closed herself off from him and Sigurd on purpose. Her loss wasn't theirs to grieve. She loved them too much to damage them in such a way. "My pain is unthinkable and I hurt all of the time." She shook her head and cast her gaze down. "I don't want this for you."

Moments later she felt him at her back. Though not touching her, his nearness felt like a caress. "Looking after me is no longer your responsibility." His head dipped and his nose grazed the crook of her neck. "As your inquisitor...as your one, your protection is now my priority." Moving upwards along her neck, his lips brushed her earlobe. "More so, it is my existence."

Bonnie's breathing tumbled from her mouth in faint pants. Dipping her head sideways, she served him up unrestricted access to her neck. As he took advantage of her offering and his lips grazed the sensitive unguarded skin near her nape, her grip tightened on the railing. A whimper betrayed her attempts at decency, eliciting a long drawn out vibration that rippled through her from the depths of her chest to the base of her throat.

Goddess what the hell was wrong with her? This was Guthrum for fuckery's sake! Her Jedi. Yet her draw to him was real and present, damn near igniting literal sparks between them. An essence disturbing attraction snatched her down. The clawing need of him weakened and urged her to give in to what now was. Unable to continue standing near him without touching him she leaned in to him to bring her back to his chest.

"Someone approaches." He stepped back, taking with him his warmth as well as the temptation to give in to him. "I'll seek out my leave now, but when next we meet we will come to a resolution."

Moments later the door to her bedroom opened, and softly closed. A tsunami of guilt took her under. Bonnie sobbed as more tears fled her eyes. Oh Goddess why him? Why Guthrum? Someone she'd once loved as a son. Her heart had deceived her mind by changing the tone of her affections for him. Now she wanted him in a way to which she had no right. Those wants sickened her. The fact she no longer saw him as Guthrum the boy she'd once doted on, left her feeling as if she'd lost yet another child.

****

"The gods are no longer with Ivar, and yet we still failed!" Bjorn slapped his hands together, while his bellow filled the strategizing covering from wall to wall. "Our failure this day will be song about for summers to come. He made us all appear as pathetic fools!"

A sneer claimed possession of Hvitserk's mouth as his glare stalked his brother's fitful steps about the covering. Ivar didn't make them appear as anything! Bjorn had revealed himself the fool turns of the hour glass before the battle began. For only a fool would toss away a securing battle strategy.

King Olaf's brows cavorted high upon his head as his gaze darted from he to Bjorn. "What shall we do now?"

"I don't know," Bjorn answered. He stopped pacing about to turn and face the table on a whole. "Yet I do know we cannot surrender our attempts until our means are met."

King Harald leapt from his seat, and then slammed a clenched hand down on the table. "Of course we are not to surrender, but you cannot mean for us to repeat this rising's foolery, Ironside!" His glare took an end ushering turn. "And make no mistake, it was you who made jesters of us all upon the battlefield this rising not Ivar." The Vestfold King pointed a condemning finger at Bjorn. "Because of you, we've failed the people of Kattegat and our Supreme!"

One of the shieldmaidens who arrived with Bjorn and King Harald, rose in his brother's defense. "Bjorn Ironside fought bravely this rising! If there is fault to be found then we need look no further than ourselves. For we all failed him as warriors and shieldmaidens."

"Oh believe her not!" Disregarding the addled shieldmaiden, King Harald pitched forth on his planted fists. His glower still fastened upon Bjorn. "Because had you not tossed away the battle strategy bestowed upon you by our Supreme then we would've liberated her and reclaimed Kattegat!"

"You don't know this for certain," Bjorn said without conviction burdening his words. His gaze then drifted to the addled shieldmaiden. "Yet King Harald does have the right of it, Amma. My command has ensured the death of many of our warriors and a great loss."

"Your admission of fault does not serve any of us well," Hvitserk said, finally lending his voice to the plots. "What will, is to know what you're minded to do going forth, because I'm prepared to steal back into the city to present Ivar with his end."

Bjorn scoffed. "This is a horrible idea, Hvitserk!"

"Then settle upon me a better one!" He demanded slapping his chalice from in front of him. The contents in the tumbler splashed the addled minded shieldmaiden before soaring to the opposite side of the sitting. "My wife still dwells behind those walls and Ivar will harm her for my betrayal." His gaze then moved over everyone gathered in the strategizing covering. "I know many of you are concerned over the well-being of our Supreme, and this is understandable. Yet despite the threats Ivar levels, he'd never harm Bonnie. Thora, however, is different." His stare hurtled back to Bjorn. "And because of her I cannot allow this siege to persist."

The entrance of the cover flapped open and a warrior marched inside. His stare swept from King Harald to Bjorn and back. "There's a woman here from Kattegat. She claims to have information about the city's defenses." He then cast a pointed gaze to Bjorn. "But she'll only speak with Ironside."

"Show her in," Bjorn demanded.

The warrior inclined his head, and then hurried from the covering. Hvitserk rose from his place at the table to pace near the far wall of the tent. His emotions had him in hand and he needed to wrestle back control of his fears. Why had he left Thora behind? He knew his betrayal would incite Ivar. Once again the entrance flapped open, and the warrior from before marched in followed by...! Hvitserk battled against himself to remain in place and not gut the bitch. Bjorn, however, appeared enamored by the sight of the whore beast.

"Bjorn Ironside?" Freydis questioned once she stood before the strategizing table. Bjorn's mouth flapped open and closed without the benefit of an answer. Yet he managed to nod. A relief driven smile dimpled her cheek. "I'm Freydis, Ivar's wife."

The taken expression fled his face for one of despise. "You're his wife. The Saxon whore responsible for Bonnie's babe being born still!"

"Never mind as such," Harald sneered as he waved him on from his place at the opposite end of the table, "instead continue preening and burbling about over the whore who meant ill towards our Most High!"

"Please, an evil spirit possessed me. I myself am a mother. I could never harm a babe," she lied with clasped hands clutched firmly to her breasts.

"Why are you here?" Bjorn rounded the table to narrow the space between them. "You have to know anything you mean to tell me of Kattegat's defenses shall be a betrayal and a certain end to your husband."

Freydis' face descended into a collection of folds, furrows, and creases. "My husband is an evil man who deserves nothing less than betrayal and an end for all of the endless monstrosities he's committed. He not only set to flames all of your Supreme's trusted along with your brother's wife, but he also killed my son!" She halted in her screeching to spit upon the ground, before continuing. "He should be made to suffer. To suffer just as I do now!"

"What did you say?" He demanded, still holding himself in place.

She glimpsed him over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hvitserk, but it's true. Thora is dead."

Those words darkened the last bright spot within his essence. Everything good he'd once held close had somehow slipped through his fingers. Now he truly had nothing.

"You both should spend the remainder of your existence languishing away in the most tormenting vat Helheim has to offer!" Harald roared. He appeared moments from lunging across the table.

"Apologies, King Harald," Bjorn's wife cleared her throat as she placed a restraining hand on his arm. Her pointed stare moved to regard Freydis. "You claim to now loathe your husband, but do you despise him so you'll aid us in overcoming Kattegat's defenses?"

Freydis hoisted her chin higher. "Your Supreme says the solution to the city's defenses resides in her cove next to her daughter's grave." Her gaze rediscovered Bjorn's. "She believes you'll know exactly where."

"Ack!" Bjorn slapped the air between them as a scowl ate away at his face. "I don't believe you. What you speak of is more than not a plot fashioned by Ivar to destroy-,"

"She wanted me to give you this to aid in proving my claims." She offered him what appeared to be a gilded arm ring. Bjorn closed the distance between them in a few paces, and then snatched the trinket from her. "She also wanted you to know, she didn't stop wearing it because she no longer believed in your vow...she stopped wearing it because the loss it now represents proves to great of a burden for her to bear."

Bjorn nodded at her once, before turning away to seek his leave of the tent. Gunnhild tore her stare from his departing back to spare Freydis a glance. "Thank you."

Freydis dipped her head and spun about to leave. Hvitserk stepped from his place at the back of the covering. He plunged his sword into the cradle of her breast until her chest met the hilt of his weapon. Shock resonated in her dimming stare. Warriors leapt from the table as roars and disbelieving shrieks swelled within the covering. Yet he lent the chaos no focus for he had a vow to uphold.

Gunnhild thought to hurtle towards him. Harald caught her mid-stride. "Leave him!"

"Did you forget that I gave you my vow, Bitch?" With the last fading strength she possessed she managed to shake her head. He pulled her close in a lover's embrace to whisper in her ear. "This is good. For I'm compelled by a force far greater than me to always honor my vows. On the strength of Faith and Bonnie may you rot in your Saxon hell, whore."

Hvitserk twisted the blade. A rattling gasp escaped from the split of her gaping lips. Pleasure hurtled through him as he snatched the sword from her chest. Freydis' life's essence spurted from the jagged wound. She slackened in his arms. Her eyes rolled to greet the back of her head as blood fled her mouth upon her last breath. With profound satisfaction he threw her body to the ground, spit upon her meaningless form, and then stepped over her.

****

Warriors and shieldmaidens moved about the camp with more zest in their step. Word had spread. The tides of battle had shifted in their favor. The following rising they'd lay claim to Kattegat and see their Supreme liberated. This gladdened Gunnhild as well. For they'd suffered much loss at the hands of Ivar the Boneless. She looked to the moment they could repay him in kind. After how his wife spoke of his treatment of their son, Lord Hvitserk's wife, and the Supreme's faithfuls he deserved a pointless end. Men such as he had no rights to the gilded gates of Valhalla!

Gunnhild moved towards the hearth near the center of the camp. She'd skipped first meal and discovered herself drawn by the fragrance of the stew which brewed over the fire. The heady attar all but placed the toothsome sustenance upon her tongue. As she approached she noticed Amma sitting near the hearth. The younger woman cast longing gazes towards a shadowed area near the lake. She followed the girl's sight, and her stare collided with the slumped shoulder outline of her husband sitting alone. Gunnhild's eyes spun about in her head. She released an exhale. All-Father save her from the spangled gazes of hero worshiping shieldmaidens.

After plating two bowls of stew she crossed the distance to join her husband at the lake. She knew his mind not only wrestled with their loss, but also their Supreme and the gilded ring the Saxon woman had given him. His eyes spoke many verities of how much the tiny circlet meant to him...how much their Supreme meant to him. She witnessed the whole of his affections when he sighted her. Love oozed from his stare and lingered within his tone. He'd never looked nor spoken to her in such a way. In that moment she knew the battle for his heart was already lost to her.

When she stood before him the creases across his forehead, and the furrows between his brows heralded him to be in the depths of his thoughts. It took him a few grains through the hour glass to realize she lingered. Once aware of her he offered her a smile that didn't meet his eyes. In turn she offered him a bowl he readily accepted, but just as readily set to the side.

"Thank you," he murmured, before casting his gaze away once more.