[ act i - a legend born for greatness ] CHAPTER TEN ( the great heathen army)
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THE SHORES OF THE NORTHUMBRIAN COAST CAME into view, as the ships of the great heathen army came closer to their destination. Closer to their revenge for the killing of Ragnar Lothbrok. The ships landed and the men and women filed out any way they could. They wanted their revenge some even for a man they had never met, only heard the stories about him, the great King Ragnar.
Althea was happy she said yes to join this army as she was finally going to get more kills and her legend would be more terrifying that it was now. With her sword in one hand and her ax in the other she followed the brothers to the spot where the war would begin. Her men followed her closely, Gunnar to her right and Maximus, to her left, both their weapons drawn. She wondered if this was the moment Maximus, one of her trusted friends and a man she thought of like a brother would betray her, she hoped to the gods she was wrong.
The sons of Ragnar gave orders to slowly build the army. Make King Aelle believe that their army was small. They wanted to trick the man as she would want to as well. The first few men walked up over the hill and stood there, soon Floki and the men that followed him joined the main army as well. Soon followed King Harald, other men and then herself. She stood near Ivar's horse, her eyes trained on the small pitiful army in front of her.
She wondered if their god would help them, like their gods helped her and her men. She could see that they were terrified, but this was a war. The men were charged for the car, some beating their shields with their swords.
"Ragnar!" Bjorn Ironside screamed. As he raised his sword ushering everyone toward the small army before them.
The rest of the men ran towards the army along with Althea herself who let out a battle cry. She swung her sword and ax in each of her hands, her sword quickly coming in contact with one of the soldiers.
She blocked a swing towards her head, before hitting the man in the side with her ax. She smiled feeling blood drip down her face, blood that was not hers. This was a war that these Christians could not win. The great heathen army could cut down anything in its path.
Just as quickly as the battle started it ended. The force King Aelle brought was small compared to theirs. King Aelle was tied to Ivar's chariot as they dragged him through the mud - the men and women following. Bjorn quickly untied the man and pulled him up, the rain was slowly washing away the blood that painted her face.
"Show us where my father died." Bjorn demanded, he backhanded the king when the man did not answer, "Show us!"
Aelle nodded towards a clearing to their left. They all moved in over there - King Aelle being dragged by the collar of his tunic. Bjorn found a hollow part of the ground, Althea still gripped her ax in her hand, her sword on her belt.
