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Drums began beating and chanting resumed as the ale was broken out for the second night. Another celebration was in order. Lhyrie noticed Ivar was still in the center of the courtyard, blood stained his mouth and chin as though he had drunk the sacrificed blood. Someone handed him a horn of ale to wash it away. Jagar passed a horn of ale to her, but she was resistant to drink after the results of the previous night’s excursions. Lhyrie promised herself only one glass and down it quickly.

Lhyrie could feel a warmth and tingling grow inside her, starting at her toes and moving upward. Her mind began to race, jumping to thought and feeling quickly and without warning. She needed to move to release these feelings. She took it as a gift from the God’s, and she grabbed Jagar’s hand pulling him in the middle of the courtyard to playfully dance to the beat of the drums, laughing almost manically. Ivar grinned up at her just as frenzied and spellbound.

Hours seemed to pass, though Lhyrie kept dancing a type of step-dance choreographed by the Gods. Lhyrie had an endless energy, like a bee trapped in a jar, that which she must release. Jagar grew tired and moved to talk with men by the roast, but kept a close eye on her. Hvitserk danced with her on his way back up from the docks to the Great Hall. He twirled her in circles and lifted her off the ground, laughing like a child as he usually did. Sweat gathered on their brow and soaked their tunics, but never out of breath they seemed. Lhyrie’s cheeks grew tired from smiling.

Soon after Hvitserk left her, the mania Lhyrie felt subsided and her legs felt as though they might buckle. She quickly scuttled over to where Jagar was seated outside the Hall and joined him. The Gods had left her. By this time, the moon was shining full above them and the crowd had dwindled down, as those who were sailing tomorrow surrendered to sleep. Jagar graciously led Lhyrie to her uncle’s house, before kissing her hand and parting for the night. Ragnar wouldn’t set sail for another week, but the celebrations were over and Jagar needed to return to his family’s farm to set the final preparations.

The next morning, Lhyrie was shaken from her sleep with a dull ache in her legs and calves. She muddled down to the docks with sleep in her eyes to see her step-father and friends off to the Mediterranean. Crowds gathered once more on the beach and Lhyrie fought to find Hvitserk and Bjorn to say goodbye. On the main dock, next to the flagship, she spotted Ragnar and his sons.

"Hvitserk, I wish your dancing feet turn to sea-legs quickly," she called, slightly mocking. He turned and rushed to give her a hug down the long dock. Bjorn chuckled and made his way down the dock as well. Although not as good friends as Lhyrie was to Aslaug’s children, she knew Bjorn well enough and appreciated his friendship.

As she was hugging Bjorn, she noticed Ubbe turn and stare at her, moving his attention away from the boats. He gave her the same glare he had the previous night at the sacrifice, making Lhyrie believe he really wasn’t staring at the ram last night but at her. She let go of Bjorn and shook Ubbe’s look from her, before setting back off the dock and up the beach to find a spot to wave off the rest of the raiding party.

The following week passed quickly as Lhyrie was intrigued with preparing her new work station with herbs and dressings. She took advantage of the location to watch the next row of raiding boats come into Kattegat, barely a quarter of the number that went raiding with Bjorn and Hvitserk. She woke early the morning the men were heading off to get a good position on the beach. However, she didn’t need to, as only a handful of people came to the docks to wish well the smaller raiding party. She watched as Aslaug tearfully wish Ivar goodbye as he joined his father in the flagship. Ivar had made a contraption, like stilts, to walk. Lhyrie could hardly believe her eyes. They worked well, until it caught in a hole in the dock. Sigurd laughed as Ivar fell hard from his place.

Lhyrie waited to be one of the last people to say goodbye, enveloping Jagar into a deep hug. She was hesitant as he groped her back and begged to reach for more, but she swatted him away to avoid indecency. Vengeance got the best of her, and she pulled Jagar into a long kiss as Aslaug and her sons moved up the dock. His lips were soft and he tasted like fresh honey. Ubbe cleared his throat in contempt as he passed. "I wish Thor will see you safe," she said, swallowing hard, suddenly filled with sorrow. Jagar gulped as well and took a deep breath before swinging over the side of the boat onto his adventure.

Thor's anvil beat the skies with a thunderous boom as sparks flew from black clouds, as though the day turned to the black of night. Winds blew, hurdling baskets and hay up into the air, whistling into the cracks of houses huddled closely together, bearing the storm. Waves plummeted the beach and threatened to wash away the docks and houses just a few steps from disaster, as sand swirled in floating batches. Down the fjord, at the edge of sight, a dark mass began brewing. It rose high to match the cliffs bordering it and then larger and deeper, until it encompassed the entire fjord up to the docks and up to the sky.

The mass stayed there, fighting against the howling winds or fueling them, she didn't know. The waves grew higher still, rising up in front the dark mass but without colliding with the shore. The giant tsunami hovered before Kattegat and the winds started blowing in circles, ripping sidings from homes and chickens from their coop. Deafened screams filled the air. Lightning plummeted the beach in random strikes, growing heavy and fiercer with each blow. No one dared venture outside, with the fear of Thor striking them with his hammer or causing the tsunami to wash ashore.

A lone raven emerged, seeming to squeeze into the space between the looming mass and the sky. It cried out and dove in front of the tsunami, spreading its magnificent wings and flying between Thor's airstrikes. The raven landed on the main dock and beat its wings defiantly at the wave, puffed out its chest and called. Its cry echoed against the tsunami and it sent ripples along its pulsating body, reverberating into Kattegat and against its stone boundaries. It shook every house from its core and caused fires to extinguish. It sent shivers down Lhyrie's spine.

The wave began to fold over Kattegat, covering the city in a roof of thrashing water without drowning it. It stood there, lightning pushing through the wave itself, hovering above the city. Cries grew louder as children's fears proved true. The raven beat its strong wings and called again, and the wave seemed to turn and look at the raven on the docks. It retreated, recoiling to stand as a wall of water before the city, instead of over it and slowly lowered itself until it became smaller and smaller. As the tsunami washed into the sea, the black mass slowly backed into the fjord, flying backwards to meet the ocean.

The winds and the lightning remained, thrashing about on the beach as the raven stayed. It turned to face Kattegat and called its shrill cry again. Another raven flew from the edge of the fjord where the mass had finally disappeared and joined the other on the dock. They seemed to wink as the winds softened and stopped swirling, and the lightning halted its attack. The ravens flew from their spot up to the Great Hall. They perched upon the black and red banner of Ragnar Lothbrok and cawed. They picked at their wings as to fluff them while suddenly the banner unfurled, crashing to the ground before the massive doors. The winds hissed, "Death."

Lhyrie's eyes sprang open.

A storm had come to Kattegat as she was sleeping, she was sure of it. The smell of lightning and heavy rains lingered about her and she took a deep breath to hold on to it. She peeked out the crack in the wall to search outside. The beach was windblown but remained intact, the houses were not stripped of their siding, and only a few chickens roamed the street outside their home. Thunder rolled in the grey skies above Kattegat and Lhyrie shivered. She reached for a fur to wrap around her shoulders before lighting the hearth that vanquished in the night. Summer was here, but didn't feel like it.

It had been less than a week that Ragnar, and Jagar with him, set sail for England but it felt like ages for Lhyrie. She wasn't quite sure what she missed from the group that left. It was illogical for her to miss Jagar, especially only knowing him for a week before he left; she thought she missed the idea of him, a suitor figure, someone to dote on her and talk to. Perhaps her mother was right on trying to find her a husband quickly. She began to see the allure of one finally.

Lhyrie grabbed an apple from a bin and chewed on it, thinking about Jagar and when he would return. Her mother and her traded their skills for food and were well off in what their patients would supply. The other night Lhyrie helped a first time mother deliver her baby boy and received a pig for payment. She hoped the baby survived, as it looked like slightly blue when she went to check in and desperately wanted to keep the pig in order to be salted for winter.

But she did need to make a trip to the market today for more yarn and other trinkets and quickly gathered her things to start her day. She wrapped a cloth bag around her neck and shoulders before dumping a few apples out on the table to use the bucket to carry the items she needed at the market. Closing the door softly behind her so that the wind wouldn't slam it shut to waken her mother, Lhyrie turned up the street toward the edge of town.

After the raids left town, the streets settled to their usual routine. Farmers waked early to bring in cattle and chickens to sell, traders opened their stalls along the main street and the stray drunkard roamed idly muttering under his breath. She helped a cart free itself from the soft mud as she passed by the Great Hall. Ragnar's banner was missing from its post atop the peak, just like the dream she had earlier. It was not, however, laying on the ground. It must have blown away in the storm, she thought. She was glad she wore her hardened boots this morning, as she felt her heel slip as she trotted through the suctioning mud after the cart.

The market was already buzzing despite the sun just barely rising and the wetness. One heckler tried to have Lhyrie buy an extravagant gold necklace with large red stones hanging from it. She even went so far as to put it on her and look in the reflection of a waxed plate. It was beautiful, but fit for the Queen, she thought. Although it would match her red dress she had for more decadent purposes. She politely declined the trader before making a foolish purchase and continued to do her shopping.

She browsed the stalls, perusing certain plants and animal fats for their medicinal purposes. She wondered as she smelled a handful of white Hellebores how long it would take to learn where some of these plants now grew near Kattegat. For those less than a day's ride, it would be better to hunt them herself, instead of buying them. She paid a small coin for the handful of Hellebores, which she used once a month to keep her unbearably painful blood away.

Several bushels of moss, seaweed, lavender, and Rowan berries later, Lyhrie thanked those she bought from and wiped the dirt from her hands onto her sopping dress. The rain was barely spitting as Lhyrie she was shopping, but enough to soak her dress and hair. Thankfully she had grabbed the fur around her shoulders. She pulled it tight around her as she nearly slipped and fell in the muck; she balanced herself and laughed with her arms pulled out in front of her, half buckled over.

As she was regaining her posture and shoes from the mud, she heard someone call for her just ahead. She looked up and saw a head sticking out of the Great Hall's doors. "Lhyrie, come here!" called a woman with fire-red hair.

"Good morning, Sigvi," she replied, treading carefully in the troughs and puddles of mud.

"The Queen wishes to see you," she said, opening the doors of the Hall for her.

Lhyrie was hesitant with the layer of mud caked onto her shoes and dress to enter the hall. "I would make a mess," she answered.

Sigvi gave her a look, noticing the splatter of mud on her dress and peered over her shoulder, presumably at the Queen Lhyrie couldn't see. The door opened wider and Queen Aslaug stood before her.

"Lhyrie," she acknowledged. "Would you do me the honor of coming to supper with us tonight?" She asked. "It is dreadful quiet with Ivar and Hvitserk gone." The Queen looked saddened with the mention of her sons, but quickly wiped the look from her face and gave a weak smile.

"Of course, my lady," Lhyrie replied. She tried to hide the look of disappointment of dining with her sons with a smile. "Should I extend the invitation to my mother, as well?" She asked, praying not to sup alone.

"I would like to talk to you, alone," Aslaug said. Lhyrie's stomach churned. "She has told me her stories, now I want to hear yours."

"It would be my honor," she said, giving a slight head nod to the Queen has she returned inside. She tried to resist a groan as she rolled her eyes, but a small one squeaked out. Sigvi laughed.

"You look as though it is torture," she whispered softly, looking back to make sure the Queen was out of earshot.

"Ubbe and I haven't exactly been in great terms since I've come back," Lhyrie whispered back.

"Ah... because of Jagar," she said with a chuckle.

"I don't think that's the whole of it," she said, biting the inside of her lip.

Lhyrie parted ways with Sigvi and made her journey back to her uncle's house, again careful not to add another layer of mud onto her shoes or dress. She knocked her boots on the outside of their house, attempting to scrape some bit dirt off them. Her mother was awake inside, trying to find another bin for the apples she had scattered earlier. Lhyrie told her the news of supper and her mother regaled in the opportunity to be alone.

The rain had finally stopped and the sun had made its appearance before the day fell dark. Lhyrie was dreading the supper all day as she worked in her aunt's shop on the beach. She arranged her mosses and weeds to her likening while she pondered the dream she had earlier. Gazing out into the fjord she thought she saw a black shape near the horizon. She blinked hard and shook her head. When she opened them and looked back out, the shape was gone. The harsh waves were playing tricks on her eyes or the dread of the night to come fooled her. Figuring she prolonged the inventible long enough, she went to change her dirty dress for a same red dress she wore the night of the feast.

Guards opened the grand doors to the Hall and the chatter that was happening inside silenced. The large table at the center of the room was set with 4 large chairs and far too many plates and goblets. Flowers were scattered about, trying to provide some feminine warmth against the harsh metal settings. Sigurd was already seated at the chair closest to the doors, drinking ale and picking at a root already on his plate. Queen Aslaug entered through the curtains when she heard the doors opened.

"Lhyrie, thank you for coming," she said as she gave her an awkward hug. "Pick a seat."

Lhyrie moved toward the seat next to Sigurd, who acknowledged her with a grunt and head nod with his mouth full. Aslaug chose the seat across from her son, as Ubbe slowly moved through the curtains toward the table. He gave a heavy sigh and pulled the chair out across from her.

"So, Lhyrie... what did you learn on your travels?" Queen Aslaug asked her as servants brought out hot broth and ale to them.

Lhyrie watched as the servants poured the steaming soup into the bowls while trying to collect her thoughts. "Um... more than I could place right now," she answered with a laugh. How could you sum up 5 years of knowledge so tightly? "It seems like I have forgotten my Frankish already." She took a spoonful of broth and blew the steam away. "I mainly stayed with the men protecting the town we lived in. Healing their wounds and such..." she trailed off.

Ubbe slurped his broth nosily.

"And they never made a pass at you?" Aslaug asked, surprised.

"Well they heard the tales of Viking shield-maidens, no doubt."

"I would be frightened too," Aslaug commented and sipped her broth.

The servants brought out several chickens that the men devoured as soon as they were set on the table. Lhyrie ate her food slowly and drank her ale a little too fast, making polite conversation with Aslaug to be appropriate. Ubbe hardly spoke and was concentrated on his meal.

"Why did you and Ubbe stay behind?" Lhyrie asked Sigurd about the raids as she drank a large sip of ale.

"Someone needed to stay here and protect our mother," Ubbe said frankly, the first words he had said all evening.

"And I am glad for that," Aslaug looked toward her eldest. "I will miss you when you go to Hedeby tomorrow," she said.

"Isn't Hedeby Earl Ingstad's earldom? South of here?" She asked, trying to regain her geography.

"Yes, we have been asked to come," Sigurd said.

"I wish you easy travels," Lhyrie raised a glass their way.

"Just as you did the farmer on the docks?" Ubbe peered over his glass. Lhyrie gave him a sharp look as he added, "I meant no disrespect, but was curious."

"Ubbe!" Aslaug cut in.

"I am making sure our dear Lhyrie's honor is intact, Mother," he snipped.

Lhyrie gulped and set her glass down slowly. She took a calming breath and said, "I didn't ask you to be my father while he is away, Ubbe."

"Well, your father died when Jarl Borg attacked. So -"

"You know what I meant." Lhyrie felt her blood boil again.

"Yes, I did. But I also don't want people to think you are a whore."

"Ubbe!" Aslaug exclaimed again.

"You don't talk to me but suddenly you're concerned with my honor? You could have avoided this if you just said "Hello" to me from the beginning!"

"You were busy snogging other men!" Ubbe shot up abruptly.

"That is enough!" Aslaug said, standing to match her son. Lhyrie whispered apologies under her breath as Sigurd snickered. "You are not children."

"Excuse me, Mother. I have lost my appetite," Ubbe said, turning from the table.

Aslaug watched Ubbe walk away and behind the curtains before sitting back down at the table. She gave an exalted sigh and resumed her meal. The rest of the dinner went by in uncomfortable silence.

When the meal was finished and she was excused, Lhyrie ran home and quickly changed into a pair of slacks and a tunic. Blood still hot, she grabbed her sword and shield and made way to the empty barn that attached to her uncle's house. She filled a bag full of hay and tied it to a post. She pretended it to be Ubbe. As she practiced her steps and stabs, she grew angrier and angrier at the conversation over dinner. He had no right, she thought. She was a free woman and could do as she pleased. And kissed who she pleased. If Ubbe had wanted her, he could have easily made himself known, instead of perusing with his slave.

She slashed a tear into the makeshift Ubbe, spilling the hay from his insides. Before moving to repair the improvised target, she heard a rustling outside the barn and someone pulling at the door. She quickly turned on her heel, shield up into a fighting stance and raised her arm straight to swing her sword. It was met against the face of an axe.

"I'm sorry, I heard a ruckus," Ubbe said, lowering his weapon. Lhyrie kept her sword and shield up, wide-eyed. "You need a new opponent," he said, looking over her shoulder to his hay counterpart.

She didn't say anything or move, she just stared hard into him.

"You're angry over dinner." Her blank stare gave him his answer. He laughed. "Will you let me practice with you to make up for it?"

Lhyrie relaxed enough to lower her sword. "Let me put my sheath on, I wouldn't want to kill you... accidentally." She said, walking to retrieve the leather covering for her sword.

"That is not necessary," he said, flipping his axe.

"You do not have a shield."

"I don't need one."

"Arrogance will strike you down, Ragnarsson," she said, sheathing her sword, allowing her blue eyes and face to soften.

"Is that a threat?" Ubbe teased, setting his stance. He raised his axe in front of him, bracing.

Lhyrie lunged first, clashing with Ubbe's axe. He turned and jabbed for her side, but she blocked his attempt with her shield, knocking him off his balance. He regained his footing and swung again to her other side, stopped by her sword. Lhyrie turned in a circle and pushed her shield into him again - this time he didn't lose his footing. She stabbed into his side but was met by his axe, the look on his face told Lhyrie he wasn't expecting her to actually try to stab him, even with the sheath covering the blade. Ubbe stepped toward her and rose his axe toward her face, where she locked her sword with it between them. They clashed several more times before Lhyrie twirled again and tried to stab forward, causing Ubbe to step back.

She could feel her energy rising, brewing to release the anger she felt with him. She jabbed again and was blocked. It felt good – to show him how angry she was with him. Stabbing again, they moved in a well-choreographed dance, crunching hay underneath their feet. Ubbe began to breathe heavy, as though he was frustrated. Lhyrie blocked every jab he took and threw off his axe swings. After she had shoved him again with her shield and made him loose his balance, he charged at her, wielding his axe high. Lhyrie braced her shield up to protect herself and felt the axe embed itself in the wood. Ubbe tugged at the handle to free it, but it was lodged hard.

Lhyrie felt her sword lower to her side, almost relaxed. She gave swift tug backward causing Ubbe to move forward and knock into her, pressed into her shield. He pulled his furrowed brow from trying to remove the axe onto her. Suddenly, he pulled his hands up to her face and kissed her hard. Her mind fizzled with disbelief and awe. Lhyrie tried to pull away, but his hands cupped her face and held her still. She regained her thought and shifted her feet. Just as quickly as Ubbe drew her into a kiss, Lhyrie kneed him between his legs. He bit down on her lip before Lhyrie shifted back and pushed her shield into his face. She circled and pulled her sword up again, while tossing her shield and imbedded Ubbe's axe, into the hay.

"Leave," she threatened, out of breath. She noticed the tip of her sword was bloody, as the leather sheath split to reveal the pointed tip of her dagger. Ubbe's tunic was torn at his abdomen, blood pooling on it. He looked at her shocked, without concern of his wound.

"Lhyrie, I – "

"Cover that with ascaria," she interrupted, nodding toward his stomach. She moved to where her shield had landed and pulled his axe from it. Ubbe took a step forward and reached for her arm. Lhyrie shook him off and placed her sword on her hip, smearing her trousers with his blood. She grabbed her shield, left his axe on the ground and pulled the barn doors open. She made the few steps into her house and exhaled the breath she had been holding as she leaned against the door. It took a few moments, but she listened for Ubbe to leave the barn. He slammed the door and sounded like he was walking toward her, before he turned back and cursed under his breath.

Lhyrie avoided the subject of the dinner with her mother, despite the multiple prodding's she tried. Lhyrie could tell her mother heard her in the barn, but she neglected to mention anything on that matter. Lhyrie went to visit Sigvi to talk on the matter.

"What?!" She exclaimed in a hushed whisper as to not wake her baby. Lhyrie nodded and sipped her tea. "So what are you going to do?" She asked.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. "I don't know what Ubbe wants, if anything. But I am practically engaged to Jagar."

"Yes... You did always have the boys fighting over you," she teased.

Without warning, they heard screams coming from outside. People ran past the home, fleeing. Sigvi ran to grab her son and cuddle him to keep him from crying.

"What's going on?"

Lhyrie moved to peered out the door. Women and children were running both toward the beach and away from it. Some were carrying their shields, axes and swords, others were just running. Lhyrie noticed a shield-maiden she didn't know, carrying a blue shield with black lines on it. The shield-maiden lunged at a man who was running toward her and slit his belly. Lhyrie's mind flashed back to Ubbe as the man buckled on his knees. She instinctly reached for a sword on her belt that wasn't there.

"No, Lhyrie," Sigvi said, sensing her friend wanting to fight.

"But Kattegat is under attack," she retorted back.

"Without it's armies or it's princes. You said it yourself, Ubbe and Sigurd went to Hedeby."

Hedeby. It clicked then in her mind. Lagertha's colors were blue and black, the same as the shield-maiden's. Lagertha was usurping Kattegat. Lhyrie's went back to Ubbe. Did she kill him when he travelled to see her? The thought made her want to go out and fight more, but Sigvi held her back.

As soon as the fighting had started, it ended. When the streets had calmed, Lhyrie and Sigvi ventured out, looking past the men and women dead in the streets onto the courtyard. A crowd had gathered. Lhyrie heard Queen Aslaug speaking, but could not register her words. A sword clamored in the dirt and the crowd began to shift slightly. The unmistakable loose of an arrow followed by a softened thud caused many to gasp and cry out. Lhyrie craned her head to see the commotion.

The Queen laid on one end of the crowd, arrow in her back, face onto the ground while Lagertha dropped her bow to her side. Someone grabbed Lhyrie by the arm and pulled her from her toes. Her Aunt Helga, bloodied and hurt, whispered in her ear. Her heart dropped. The world started to spin and grew into a deafening silence.

Her mother had been killed.

"All hail Queen Lagertha!" someone chanted.

All hail Queen Lagertha.