CHAPTER 9: THE WAR IS JUST THE BEGINNING

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The land of Norway was magnificent, maybe even more than Essex was, yet it would soon be covered with blood.

On a horse next to Hvitserk the only thing you could do was stare at the army opposite you. It was a powerful one, yet the army of Ivar the Boneless and Harald Finehair was grander than you had ever seen. An emotion of sadness overcame you when you glanced from one man's face to another’s; what brought you greater pain was the fact that you would be one to spill their blood, perhaps denying a child an opportunity to grow up with a father or a mother. It seemed as if you were the only one having those thoughts; Ivar and Harald seemed eager to go into battle, not bothering to even entertain the idea that perhaps they would be the ones laying on the ground at the end of the day.

It brought you comfort to know that Darelle had no place in this war. You were prepared to beg Ivar if necessary to keep her away, no matter the humiliation it would bring you, yet it was he himself who proposed the idea to not involve Darelle. He knew your heart would break into a million pieces if something were to happen to your sister, and he didn’t want to be the one responsible for that much pain. He still felt guilt for killing Sigurd in a fit of anger, and the heartache of losing a sibling was too great to bear. If he felt sadness over someone he barely could stand, he could only imagine what would happen to you were you to lose the only family you had left.

There was nothing stopping you from fighting as a queen would. You didn’t have to worry about the safety of Darelle, and could solemnly focus on the men and women opposite you. Your eyes landed on Ubbe on the other side; for a second he seemed to be surprised to see you there, until that surprise turned into disappointment. Who caught your attention the most, however, was the blonde woman in the middle of the army. From the way she held her head high you could only assume she was the famous Lagertha you had heard so much of, the same woman who was now the queen of Kattegat, and the one who ended Ivar’s mother’s life.

Beside him was a man, who – from the similarities – was clearly her son. You remembered Ivar mentioning his name – Bjorn. From all accounts, he too was a great warrior, just like his father had been, and just like his mother was. Lagertha and Bjorn might have been names you had heard an uncountable number of times, but to you they were nothing but names. Names that would be lost to history over time.

Even though hostages were exchanged in order to negotiate, you knew it did no good. During all the weeks you had spent with Ivar, you knew surely he would not in no circumstance agree to peace. He was solemnly focused on vengeance, and nothing else had occupied his mind for some time now. While you could never imagine fighting with Darelle to the brink of one's death, you could understand the need for revenge. 

The war had only two possible outcomes. One of them was victory, and the other one was defeat. You were willing to do anything to make sure it was Ivar's side who was victorious, no matter what the cost. 

***

“This is madness, a brother against a brother." Harald's brother Halfdan exclaimed in desperation even though you were sure he must have known it would do no good. Over the course of an hour you had spent listening to him you had come to the conclusion that it was him you liked more than his brother. His principles, ones that Ivar deemed stupid, were enough for you to feel guilt for the fact that in a matter of hours you could possibly fight the man, and perhaps even kill him if it came to that. 

"That is why you should come over to our side." Ivar simply replied, although the sound of his voice betrayed that he didn't care much if he did so or not. It took just a glance to see that the man was bored of the negotiation that by all accounts lead nowhere. No matter how many times Harald stressed the importance of family and blood, Halfdan couldn't forget the fact that Bjorn had saved his life. When Ivar left, so did you; it seemed pointless to stay and listen to something that didn't concern you in the least. Instead, the next hours were occupied by the sharpening of your sword, ending with a quick prayer of which usefulness you were beginning to doubt with each passing day. 

"You will stay in camp with your sister tomorrow." Ivar announced; he had been so silent that you hadn't even heard him move around. 

"I will not." You replied, turning around to face him with a glare that spoke of determination. "It were your Gods who wanted me here." 

"Perhaps it was yours." 

"Mine doesn't seem to care much for me." If your mother could hear you now she would surely pass from the horror of your words; but now to you those words were laced with nothing but the truth. 

"I will come tomorrow. Surely you must know by now that even you cannot stop me from doing so."

Ivar responded with a slight chuckle, one that seemed so rare and genuine that it made you proud to be the one who brought it out of him. Involuntarily a smile appeared onto your face that appeared so sneakily that you hadn't even noticed it.

"Tomorrow it will all change and Kattegat will be ours." 

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