Destiny Enslaved (editing)

Part 28

OK!- so there was a birthday and i may have neglected my duties but only a day late is quite good for me :D

Bjorn POV

Haunting eyes.

From the moment I met her those eyes have haunted my thoughts; lurking like a predator in the shadows of my mind.

She had caused me trouble from the moment our fates had intertwined – I could only hope that they were never separated.

But her presence had stirred a hornets' nest within my ranks. From Hvitserk ignorantly conspiring with the Halfdan. To Finehair's attempts to sow doubt into peoples minds with half-jokes about my being bewitched by the foreign demon.

It certainly did not help that Floki had apparently lost his mind in the storm. He jabbered about the god's plans and his excitement- now both of us were under her spell... though the sad truth was that he simply wanted to ignore what was happening to Helga. Her eyes had become as mad as his.

I'm sure the whispers of gossip shared in dark corners had spread through the whole fleet by now.

''she's a witch!- she's taken their minds soon she will have all of Norway.''

''Hvitserk will side with the brothers...''

''the witch watched Ragnar die...''

That was the hardest part of this.

Father was dead- one could scarcely believe it.

In fact, part of me still did not even though the All father had delivered the news to us.

But the Ragnarsons were strong. And we had lost our father a decade ago. Now the hard part was to lay him to rest in our minds.

Yet I knew one thing was certain- his legend would never die. We would have to learn to accept that too. wherever our feet fell they would be shrouded in his far-reaching shadow.

We would forever be the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok.

But no matter the emotional turmoil that Hvitserk and I kept within, I at least, could not claim to have loved him as Floki did.

No matter what father did to him, he still loved the man- never mind the legend.

When I finally had the courage to reiterate the message we heard upon the cliff I thought Ragnorak might begin. Floki's face fell; his features going slack in shock. Then he wailed. Wailed as one mortally wounded and facing the gates of Hell. The only consolation we could offer was drinking and scheming.

That night once the camp had set about their celebrations Floki, Hvitserk, the brothers and myself sat around the fire pit of the main tent. Rollo had left us to 'drink and fuck ' his pain away as he had put it. I had just wanted Hvitserk and me to console Floki anyway- but Hvitserk insisted that if we were to seriously strategize for the war we would have to take up then the brothers needed to be present. He was right. If I had wanted a serious meeting of the leaders then they and the rest would have to be involved.

I simply wanted to find some solace at the bottom of a tankard.

But there we sat drinking and thinking- two things that do not go well together.

How did Ragnar die?

What did his last message mean?

What was to happen next?

I'm sure we all had our own answers but that made these uncertain times.

One thing I was sure of: we had to get back to Kattegat.