Freydis tore open her eyes. Her chest rose and caved as she struggled from one breath to the next. The blurriness of slumber retreated and her much sought after air stores knotted in her gullet. She'd fallen prey to yet another eve of terror only to awaken to a morn of horror. Her husband towered over her. His hand covered her mouth and nose. Malice sharpened his glare. She struggled against his hold, but the more she fought the more weakened she became. Tarry spots peppered her vision. Just when she believed she'd succumb to her end he released her.

Freydis shot upright hacking. She gasped for air. Her mind dithered to take her senses in hand. For her wits refused to birth a reason for Ivar being in her personal quarters. They hadn't shared a bed chambers since the birth of her son. Fear forced her to the wall at her back. Any amount of distance from the evil bugger she welcomed. Him being in her rooms heralded wicked acts she'd rather not consider. Acts which made her regret not falling upon her own blade. She'd missed her opportunity and now he'd come to usher her to the Otherside himself.

"W-Why have you come here, K-King Ivar?" She questioned, attempting to garner good will by exploiting his title. "H-Has something happened?"

The hatred which tore his face asunder nigh slicked her thighs with piss and drove her under the bed furs. For a tormenting moment he watched her. All while brandishing his silence how pagan invaders cleaved the air with the blood slackened edges of their blades. When she thought he'd allow her question to wither he spoke.

"Is there any value to be found in you, Freydis?" He gestured to the whole of her with a hand. "Any value other than the false gold which resides between your legs that has already been thoroughly plundered by many?" She bunched the furs to her breasts to smother the flames smoldering in her chest. Yes, countless warriors had plundered her charms. Yet none such as him. It took a stiff longboat to navigate the turbulence of her seas. A requirement which he more often than not proved to lack.

He continued. "Do you have any of the sorcery you crowed of or were those falsehoods as well?" She moved to swing her head in denial and his hand shot forth to grip her throat. "And do not think to lie to me, wife. Because of you the gods have forsaken me. So now I'm in great need of mystical means to aid me against the forces that gathers at our gates." He shoved her back on the bed.

Freydis' pounding heart stalled. She lingered upon the crumbling edge of a precipice. The next step she took or wrong answer she uttered could very well be the final act which acquainted her with a ruthless end. Her following breath hinged upon what she could induce him into believing. Though she had no power to speak of, she wasn't without her advantages. So she utilized the muscle which never failed her. Her tongue's ability to weave an acceptable canard.

She cleared her throat and swallowed, and then lied with all the steadiness of truth. "Although I'm weakened after the birth of our son, my sorcery is still formidable enough to secure you a victory over your enemies, My King."

Horns blared in the distance. An impending attack threatened the city. Ivar's calculating glare rose to regard thin air, and then hurtled back to her. "Well you'll soon have the opportunity to prove your claims, wife. Dress, you'll be joining me upon the first line," he reached down and snatched the bed furs from her body. "There, you can aid our forces in defending my kingdom. Fail and I shall kill you myself!"

****

Bonnie marched to the front gates of Kattegat. Ground zero...the frontlines. Watching Ivar's defeat at the hands of his brother and former ally would be the highlight of her rising. For Karma had finally arrived and she hoped the goddess of get back showed the hell out. She couldn't wait to see Boneless fall. And fall he would if Bjorn followed every word of her strategy right down to every crooked letter. She knew he didn't read English. However, Guthrum did, fluently so. The rising belonged to Bjorn and she was there for it!

As Bonnie climbed the wooden steps to the ramparts over the main gates, soldiers she passed offered her warriors bows. They even parted to allow her a view at the wall near the tower. Below, a sea of men flooded the gates and surrounded the castle. Her bottom lip curved her top and dropped. The opposing army was much larger than the one in the series.

Somehow her boys had managed to slap her dumb once again by bucking the script. The forces Bjorn, Harald, and Guthrum managed to gather further increased their chances for a favorable outcome. Her seeking stare moved over the various faces lined in white to search out one among the many. The face she'd longed to see since Fate tore him from her sight.

"Supreme, do you have any orders for us?" A young warrior asked to her left.

Without sparing him a glance she answered. "Any orders you receive from me will set you against your king." She glimpsed him from the cut of her eye. He stared as if he didn't know what she meant and she wanted to ask him if he'd run into Hoffa under the rock he'd been parlaying. "I'm sure you're aware your king and my interests no longer align." The warrior continued to gawk at her and her face scrunched. What the hell did Ivar have those men believing?

"Do we no longer have your favor, Most High?" Another warrior to her right pressed.

"No, most of you here have been without my favor for some time now." Bonnie turned to capture his gaze with the intent of placing added weight on her words. "Yet each and every one of you will always bear the girth of my unconditional love." She then turned back to continue eye stalking the army before them.

****

The sight of Bonnie standing upon the head of the bridge pilfered Ivar's breath. His hobbling steps halted. Shock slackened his jaw, forcing his mouth to hang wide. Pitching pleasure nigh buckled him. Donning her battle leather, she appeared more warrior goddess than Supreme. Why had she come? Had she changed her decision on standing with him? She turned to acknowledge him. When she sighted Freydis at his side her stare slitted. Bonnie snatched her gaze away. He cut a glare at his wife and exhaled. She'd truly become a burden. A blighting plague upon his life. The woman curdled everything within her reach! Readily dismissing Freydis from mind, he moved to stand near Bonnie at the wall.

"Though your presence here pleases me, My Love, I'd be false in my speech if I denied being surprised," he said, while permitting his gaze to scour every becoming morsel of her. It had been a Solstice Cycle since she'd allowed him to sheath himself and his manstand throbbed to know the sopping tight clench of her muff once more. He inhaled and savored her flowered scent for a moment, before continuing, "Especially after all you said when last we spoke."

She shifted her jeweled stare to scrutinize him from the cut of her eye. "Did you really believe I'd miss the beginning of your end, Lover? Hmph," Her mocking glare flicked to his shrinking wife who now cowered at his side. "I'd rather take a knee to your downfall."

His jaw twitched as he offered his wife a sideways glare. The sight of her alone provoked a grimace to debase his countenance from throat to hairline. "Remove yourself from my side and stand with Sheila at the opposite end of the rampart," he hissed at Freydis, and then set her aside with a side dip of the head. After doing away with his wife, he then turned back to Bonnie who'd busied herself with gazing into the sea of warriors below. "So are we to match wits then, My Love?"

"Why would I ever do anything so malicious?" She questioned without removing her gaze from the horde below. "Your ever dwindling wits places you at the disadvantage of an addle minded dung beetle. Trading wits with you would be unwarranted verbal abuse of the mentally challenged."

A smile genuine in nature pushed at the corners of his mouth. Flames reignited a familiar burn within his heart, stoking a blistering heat in his chest. A memorable blaze he'd never quite learned how to live without. Gods he still yearned for her. So much so he'd readily put aside her betrayal against his mother, her marriage to Halfdan, and her attack upon his rule if she'd come back to him. Standing with her while facing down an opposing army reminded him of their times in England. There was nothing he wouldn't give to claim those moments once more.

He wrenched his gaze from the beguiling cut of Bonnie's face to reconsider their adversaries. Bjorn collided with his weighing glare. Even from a distance he saw the purpose which poured from his eldest brother's eyes. The searing determination, however, moved far beyond his desire to claim a kingdom. No, Bjorn's single-minded notion had led him back to those shores to reclaim a heart. A heart for which he held no rights. Well his dear brother had braved the seas back to Kattegat for naught. For he'd never allow him to have Bonnie. Never!

Bjorn approached the gates with a battering ram. A sneer slithered across Ivar's mouth. So it would be force over strategy. His first mistake.

"What the hell is he doing?" Bonnie hissed next to him.

Ivar laughed. His Love also recognized the error in her protector's foolish ways. He lifted a hand. "Archers, loose!"

****

Sipping nominal breaths, Hvitserk waited for the battle cry from the fore gates. Harald, Guthrum, and he hid behind hills a few paces from Kattegat's rear battlements. As soon as he heard the heralding screech they'd attack the city from behind. It was Bjorn's mind to launch simultaneous assaults in hopes of overwhelming Ivar's forces. He didn't believe such an approach would fare well against one of Ivar's battle strategies. For Ivar considered his mind to be mightier than a sword. A verity he'd proven many times over in England.

Hvitserk would've much rather heard Bonnie's strategy. Discussed her plots for soundness. If anyone could match Ivar's strategic intelligence on the battlefield, it would be the one who honed his mind in the ways of warfare. Yet Bjorn had squandered the opportunity. He dismissed Bonnie's strategy without a ponderance for the consequences of doing so. His actions dwelled within the realm of nonsensical. Only the truly witless or undeniably faithful behaved in such a way. Hvitserk hoped his brother fell among the latter and not prey to the former. He pled to the All-Father Bjorn had the right of it, and they were favored

. For before that rising met its end they may indeed have need of the gods.

The warrior cry in the distance alerted Hvitserk and gathered his focus. He raised a hand and dropped the appendage. Upon his signal, first line archers lit their quills, stood, and loosed. A barrage of flaming barbs impaled themselves in the towers of the rear ramparts. Fire engulfed both structures, provoking a bout of movement on the upper parts of the battlements.

Harald leapt to his feet, raised his sword, and yelled. "Charge!"

Hvitserk abandoned his hiding place to sprint towards the part of the wall closer to the stronghold. He darted across the distance to the burning towers. Raising his shield, he wound, curved, and rolled to dodge the torrent of arrows. When he neared the rear rampart Guthrum barreled to a halt next to him. With a jerk of his fist several warriors sored in various directions over the wall of the bridge. Hvitserk's eyes attempted to take leave of his head.

He pointed towards the now nigh empty bridge. "Did you-,"

"Your way is clear," Guthrum said, before moving further down the battlement.

His head dipped as he watched him go. "Obliged," he muttered, before scaling the wall and heaving himself over the edge.

Once he stood upon the rampart, one of the remaining soldiers charged him. Hvitserk cut down the warrior and turned his ax on the sentry guarding the pathway to the towers. The guard held his weapon in the way of a seasoned warrior. He swung his sword with the fury of a berserker. They crossed blades and sparks ignited from the clash of their steel. A breath before the elder soldier opened Hvitserk's bowels, the man's chest greeted the edge of his ax. He tossed the warrior's body over the battlement and moved towards the rear gates to aid in its unlatching. Though when he rounded the curve of the wall, the whole of Kattegat's rear defenses halted his steps. Ivar had erected a second reinforce the first. Well-armed warriors lay in wait for whomever bore the misfortune of breaching the outer barrier first.

An arrow zipped pass his head and ripped open his cheek. More arrows followed. Hvitserk dipped low and retraced his steps back to the tower. By the time he arrived at the rear rampart, several warriors pursued him. To ensure he didn't take a blade to the back in his retreat, he spun about on his heel. He gutted a young soldier near him, and then lobbed the body at the oncoming warriors. This afforded him enough grains through the hour glass to toss himself back over the wall. He hit the ground rolling and managed to discover shelter from the rain of arrows under an overturned wagon.

As he caught his breath thoughts of failure taunted him. Now no doubts lingered in his mind. They should've made use of Bonnie's strategy. Harald dove under the covering next to him. Cuts and bruises littered his face. Blood covered his battle leather. Yet Hvitserk didn't know if Harald bled or their enemies.

"All of this is for naught! Ivar has secured the rear battlements by erecting a second line of defense. So even if we manage to breech the outer gates..." his voice trailed off as he shook his head. The rising had cavorted well beyond their grasp. "We have to retreat. We'll never take Kattegat by force alone."

"No!" Harald took hold of his tunic as addled fury sparked bright in his glare. "I gave her my vow. I'd rather meet my end attempting to liberate her. I will not fail her or Halfdan again...I cannot!"

He gripped Harald's shoulder. "We will free, Bonnie, but we must move intelligently."

"Perhaps, all is not lost. Bjorn may have breached the fore gates," Harald insisted.

Hvitserk assessed the many fallen faces scattered about them. Most of them donned the battle pigment of their warriors. His head swung once more as he suffered the girth of their loss. "No, there is no victory to be had this rising, King Harald."

****

"Again!" Bjorn roared. Under a hail of pelting arrows his warriors rammed the gate once more. The wooded barrier shuddered but didn't give. "Again!"

"Welcome home, Bjorn!" Ivar bellowed down at him. "I fear you've come much, much too late, brother! Yet, welcome home! Now burn them alive!"

Oil fell over the wall and doused the soldiers at the head of the ram. Their stunned questioning gazes swung to him. He opened his mouth to tell them to abandon their places at the head, but both soldiers forms erupted in flames. The men's screams would harry him until the rising he entered into the gates of Valhalla. Yet as loud as their shrieks were their screeching could not misplace the sound of his brother's laughter. Rage swelled within him.

"Again!" He thundered.

Uncompromising resolve possessed him. He'd breech those gates it mattered not the wage. His glare swung upwards to regard his babe of a brother, but Bonnie's sneering face decimated his focus. She glowered down at him with all the exacting fury of Hel herself. Her ill will with him no doubt hailed from her need to always lead him about like a barefaced boy who had yet to see his first raiding summer. The last time he'd heeded her demands she'd lost much. They both did and now their essences mourned.

Even now he sensed her grief beneath her anger. Ivar had broken her. The damage from his efforts were plain to sight. To feel! Her sorrow beat at him even from a distance. He snatched his stare from her to recommit himself to his focus. Witnessing her in such a state reinforced his determination to breech those gates. To reclaim what he'd lost. Yes Ivar's defenses may be greater than he'd believed them to be, but his purpose loomed without rival. He'd liberate Kattegat and see Bonnie back to his side where she belonged.

After battering the buckling wood several more times, the fore gate splintered and swung open. His warriors howled their battle cries. They trudged through the open entrance. Inside, he and his soldiers halted. Ivar's diabolical strategy had bested him. Before them stood another gate guarded by a battalion of armed warriors. A clattering of iron and steel sounded behind him. He turned about in time to sight an iron gate dropping to the ground. The metal barrier served as a replacement for the wooden slab they'd breached only moments before. Ivar had trapped them between the inner and outer walls of the city.

More of Ivar's laughter echoed about him. "Archers, loose!"

"Shield wall!" He and Ivar's voices collided.

Before his words altogether fled his mouth his warriors erected their shields. Moments later arrows pelted their barrier. By the favor of the gods no barbs pierced the wall of the shields. Yet another round would not prove them as fortunate.

"Loose!"

****

Bonnie lifted a hand and diverted the second round of arrows. The barb projectiles embedded themselves in various walls. Confusion tossed Kattegat's archers heads about and snatched their gazes to their bows. Bjorn and his warriors took the opportunity to break formation in favor of securing an escape route. She exhaled her relief as an arm wrapped about her waist. The iron grip pulled her into an equally hard frame.

"You will not interfere, My Love," Ivar seethed next to her. "For this battle would've already met its end were it in your mind to do so."

"See that's where your fucking up." Bonnie tore out of his hold and served him a hatemaker so lethal he should've been bloody and stinking on sight. She pointed a finger in his face. "Keep believing you know my mind and all your misconceptions of me are gonna come tumbling down to bury your slick ass!"

She whirled away to stalk down the stairs. Ivar's laughter followed her as she went. Halfway down she witnessed a shieldmaiden rocking white stripes on her face. She traded blows with two warriors while a third crept her from behind. As the shieldmaiden made quick work of the two she fought, the third moved to plunge his sword in her back. A sword materialized in Bonnie's hand and she blocked the blow of the third warrior. The soldier turned on her, but nearly dropped the weapon when he caught sight of her.

"Supreme, I-," The warrior began.

"Go reinforce the rear ramparts," she said, lowering her sword.

The warrior dipped his head in a bow, before rushing off to the rear of the city. The shieldmaiden she now recognized as Gunnhild tossed her sword to the ground. The woman then offered her a warrior's bow. Bonnie could only stare back at her with a throat full of heart.

"Supreme," the shieldmaiden uttered.

"P-Pick that up," Bonnie demanded, gesturing towards Gunnhild's fallen sword. She cast her gaze about to be sure Ivar hadn't sighted them. "You never should've attempted anything so foolish as coming behind enemy lines without a plan to the fucking first!"

Gunnhild stooped to retrieve her sword. "I-I only meant to aid my husband."