SHE WOLF
— 22. Usurper
Months had passed since Ylva left Ashton and in the Great Hall of Kattegat, Freya was sitting with Ivar at a table, playing a game of chess. She took her move before sitting back in her seat.
Ivar took his turn, looking annoyed when he took one of her chess pieces off the board at ease. "That was stupid of you," He complained and Freya turned to glare at him, "You lose."
"Don't call me stupid," Freya snapped at him coldly as she looked up at him instead of at the board.
"Why not?" Ivar asked her without a care in the world.
"Because I could kill you without blinking and no one would even know it was me," She replied in a calm tone and Ivar began to glare at her for a long moment, only to gradually begin smiling.
"Why don't you stay here forever?" Ivar asked her and Freya rolled her eyes at him.
"Because Kattegat isn't my home. Ashton is," She reminded him in a calm tone.
"Ashton sounds stupid," Ivar retorted with an attitude, and Freya's lips curled upwards into a smirk.
"It's not. It's amazing," Freya argued defensively as she smiled proudly, "It's far better than Kattegat. You'd love it there. At thirteen, my mother raised an army and attacked Ashton, killing her father and his wife in the process. She slaughtered any who didn't kneel and took the Earldom for herself."
"She's not your mother," Ivar argued, causing Freya's smile to fade as she looked offended, "She killed your father and your mother was a Saxon slave that no one cared about."
"Ylva treats me like her own daughter and she was a better mother than my real one ever was. She is my mother," Freya argued defensively as she began to glare at Ivar.
"If she had to choose between Gyda and you, she'd choose Gyda. You're not her real daughter. She'll never love you like she loves her own children," Ivar complained and genuine tears began to fill Freya's eyes.
"This is why no one loves you but your mother," She replied and Ivar narrowed his eyes at her.
"At least I have a mother," He retorted and Freya leaned forward in her seat, wanting nothing more than to kill him.
"I should kill you!" She growled at him in a low, threatening tone.
"You could try," Ivar pointed out, which tipped Freya over the edge.
Furious, she flipped chess board and screamed out in rage, wooden chess pieces flying everywhere. She stood up and knocked over her chair, just before storming out of the room.
Ivar watched on, her lips beginning to curl upwards into a smirk.
______
It was close to the new year and at the Yol celebration in Ashton, people stood outside. They banged on drums and children ran around, laughing and playing.
Inside, the Yule log was brought in by a few men. Ylva was sitting on her throne, Gyda sitting at her feet while Rorik sat on her lap. She had her hand placed on her belly, which had grown since Bjorn left for the mountains. She was pregnant, after all. Bjorn's wish had come true and Ylva couldn't wait for him to learn the news when he returned.
"People!" The priest called out loudly to the people located inside the Great Hall, "May the Yule log burn throughout Yol, and bring its warmth and light to us in these darkest of days. And to Earl Ylva and her family, may they feel the warmth of the fire, like the love of the people!"
The people cheered and Ylva smiled, clapping her hands together as the celebrations continued.
A servant walked over and Ylva turned, giving her a questioning look. "A messenger has come. Freya is on her way to Ashton," She informed her and Ylva smiled in response.
That night, a sacrifice was made to the Gods and Ylva was the one to do. Still, Freya had not arrived, which worried Ylva. It barely took a day even by foot to travel from Kattegat to Ashton. Where was she?
_____
The following day, Ylva was sitting on her throne, having a conversation with Sihtric about Yol when a child entered.
"Earl Ylva! Earl Ylva!" The child called out worriedly as he ran over to Ylva.
"What is it, Gunnar?" Ylva asked as she stood up and walked closer to him. She knew the boy well. He was a good boy, a kind one. He was friendly and always greeted her whenever she returned from Kattegat.
"A man has come," He informed her uneasily, "He brings five ships filled with men."
"What?" Sihtric asked in confusion, he and Ylva immediately sharing an alarmed look, "Where is he now?"
"He is here," A voice suddenly spoke up, causing Ylva to protectively pull Gunnar closer to her as the unknown man entered with twenty men. However, she knew he had a lot more men than that if he came with five ships.
"Earl Ylva. Allow me to introduce myself," The man informed her as he grinned widely, "My name is Earl Henrik."
Ylva tried to hide her uneasiness. She turned to Sihtric, who shared the same expression as her. They had an uncle named Henrik but there was no way it was him. Not after so many years in exile.
"An Earl?" Ylva asked him, smiling at the thought, "Well, then, you are most welcome to our hearth and home. Come, warm yourself by the fire. What's mine is yours."
"What of my men?"
"They will be taken care of," She assured him with a kind smile on her face, "The ones you have with you now are welcome to whatever I have here. Those on your ships I shall have food and drink brought to them."
"Ylva," Sihtric called out, grabbing her by the arm. He pulled her closer to him before he began to speak to her in a whisper, "Do you think that's wise? We don't know who he is."
"Exactly," Ylva whispered to him softly, "We need to figure out who he is and what he's doing here."
Sihtric remained silent, knowing she had a point. He watched as she turned Henrik and smiled. "Come, sit with me. I'd like to know more about you."
Henrik nodded and walked closer to Ylva. He sat down beside her and was immediately handed a drink by a servant.
"Tell me, Earl Henrik, why have you come here?" She asked the man curiously, forcing a smile onto her face.
"The wanderers speak many tales of your triumphs and victories, Earl Ylva. Poets sing of how you slew your mad father and took your mother's Earldom for yourself. Some view you to be a hero, others call you mad as well. You are a famous woman, Ylva, known all throughout Norway. Why would I not want to meet you in person?" He asked her with a smile on his face, "They say you married the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, a man known as Bjorn Ironside. Is that true?"
"Yes," Ylva replied as she nodded her in confirmation.
"Where, may I ask, might he be?" He questioned, the slightest of smiles on his face.
"Why do you want to know?" Ylva retorted, eying the man suspiciously.
"Just curious," He assured her as he lifted his hands in mock surrender.
"He doesn't live here with me. He lives in Kattegat. I rule these lands myself. I am the Earl, no one else," Ylva informed the man in a calm tone and Henrik nodded in understanding.
"Any children?" He asked her curiously and Ylva nodded.
"They're not here," She lied to him, which quickly caught Sihtric's attention since she knew they were in the next room sleeping, all but Freya, who still hadn't returned, "Tell me, Earl Henrik, I know you're not here to get to know me better so why don't you tell me why you're really here?"
"I have come for my throne," He informed her, earning a raised brow from Ylva.
"I don't understand," Ylva replied as she shook her head.
Henrik smiled, standing up from his seat as he placed his drink down. "I am not just any man. I am Henrik Ketilsson, brother of Earl Ketilsdottir, your mother."
Despite already having the feeling that was the case, Ylva stood up and cautiously stepped back. Sihtric walked forward, quick to protectively stand beside her as their guards prepared to attack if need be.
"Why are you here?" Sihtric asked the man as he eyed her suspiciously.
"To take back what is rightfully mine," Henrik announced loudly, causing many people to look stunned by the news.
"It is not rightfully yours," Ylva growled as she gritted her teeth at the man who had been revealed to be her uncle.
"Nor is it yours. You still have a brother and you didn't fight in the Battle of Succession," Henrik pointed out as he pointed at Sihtric.
"I killed my father, the Earl, and killed anyone else who dared to try to stop me from taking it. My brother forfeited his claim so I spared him. Of course, it is mine," Ylva explained in a venomous tone.
"You didn't kill me and I didn't forfeit my claim," He reminded her and Ylva scoffed loudly, not taking him seriously.
"You took the coward's way out and fled the Battle of Succession," Ylva snapped at him viciously, "I wouldn't waste my time fighting someone so unfit to rule."
"Oh, but you will," He smirked as he stepped closer to her, "I challenge you in the Battle of Succession."
"I refuse. I have far more men than you. If you want to take Ashton for yourself, you must take it by force," Ylva argued in a low, threatening tone.
"Who's to say I won't?" He asked her tauntingly.
"I do," She answered lowly as she glared at her.
Not taking her seriously, Henrik began to laugh in her face. She frowned, only to suddenly hear Rorik crying.
"No!" She exclaimed in alarm and turned to run toward her children's room while Sihtric tried his best to fight off the rest of the men alongside Ylva's men.
Ylva busted through the door to her children's room, finding four men already inside and on the verge of walking toward Gyda and Rorik, who were lying in bed. Rorik was crying while Gyda looked frightened, not knowing what was going on.
"Get away from them!" Ylva shouted at the men, who immediately turned to her.
Seeing as though she was unarmed, Ylva looked uneasy as she glanced between the four men. She picked up the knife off the plate of food on the table next to her and pointed it outwards.
"Close your eyes," Ylva demanded as she looked down at Gyda, who immediately covered herself and her brother with the blanket.
Ylva thrust her knife forward, stabbing one of the men in the throat. She ducked as another swung at her. She picked up a stool on the ground, hitting another man across the face with it. She hit the next one with it as well. The fourth man tried to swing at her with his sword but she used the chair to block his form of attack.
His blade ended up becoming stuck in the chair and he shoved her against the wall. Ylva wasted no time lifting her leg and kicking him before she backhanded him across the face. He fell to the ground and Ylva picked up his sword, using it to stab him in the throat.
She stood back up and just then, one of the men swung at her from behind. She lifted her arm and instead of slashing her across the chest, he instead cut her forearm.
She groaned in pain and kicked him, just before using the sword she held to kill him. She could hear the last man behind her and just as he reached her, she turned and shoved the third man toward him. She smirked, watching as it led to the last living man stabbing the dead man with his sword instead of Ylva.
He shoved the dead body to the ground and moved toward Ylva.
No longer carrying a sword, Ylva cautiously stepped back and searched for a weapon. Just then, a figure jumped in from the window and before the man could react, he was stabbed in the back.
Ylva looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of Freya. She sighed in relief and hugged her. "Oh, thank the Gods," She spoke quietly before rushing over to Gyda and Rorik.
"Freya, you must take the children to safety," Ylva pleaded and Freya turned to her, frowning in confusion, "Ashton is under attack. I need the three of you to be safe, especially if something were to happen to you."
"I'm not leaving you," Freya argued in a stern tone and Ylva sighed, placing Rorik in Freya's arm.
"You must. Please, you must do this for me," Ylva begged, tears beginning to form in her eyes, "I can't let anything bad happen to you."
Freya was silent for a long moment, a hesitant look on her face. After a moment, she sighed in defeat and nodded. "Fine, I'll go."
Ylva nodded, giving her a thankful look. She hugged her three children, placing a kiss to each of their heads. "Be careful. I love you. I'll find you when this is all over."
Ylva took a step back and watched as Freya climbed out of the window with Gyda and Rorik. She flinched, hearing the screams and shouts coming from all around her. People must have been getting slaughtered when they refused to follow Henrik.
Just then, inside the room, the door opened and four of Henrik's men entered, causing her to sigh in frustration. She lifted her arms up, which was her way of telling them she surrendered.