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CHAPTER FOUR: SAXONS AND DANES
SEASON 5A
VIKINGS | GAME OF THRONES
—- BURN THEM ALL —-

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴏɴ ᴠɪᴋɪɴɢs: ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʟʟ
—-  Viserya has defeated Lord Oswald and has taken Coccham for her claim, now with Æthelwulf's army dwindling, Viserya must face her brother Ivar and Beocca must face the king of Wessex —-

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| SAXON CAMP |
EARLY MORNING/NOON

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   | THE TENT DANCED ALONG WITH THE GENTLE BREEZE OF THE MORNING. The camp was still withdrawing from the last battle with a massive hit to the Saxon army. But subduing the lost was the morning—for it was quite peaceful with the sun just barely cresting over the pale sky. Alfred had been up since the crack of dawn—dreams and the yearning for home kept the young prince awake. Instead of fighting back, he seat at the large table positioned in the middle of the tent with his hair slicked back into tight pony tails.

But he were not the only one awake at such an hour, Æthelwulf and Bishop Heahmund had been looking over a map of York whilst planning their next strike. Each time they thought they were ahead, Ivar had once again outsmarted them. Of course Alfred knew this, but it wasn't his place to say. After meeting with the two brothers before, Heahmund wasn't ready for peace or negotiations, he only wanted war.

Alfred soon found himself not liking Heahmund. For someone claiming to devote their life to God, he was surely an unholy man. It was always war for him. He did want to join the decision making but yet, found himself yearning for sleep once more and for his grandfather. It wasn't like his opinions would matter anyway, he was still a young boy.

He rolled his thumb around his index finger while listening to Æthelwulf and Heahmund carry on. He thought of the Dane brothers Ubbe and Hvitserk, and he throughly processed Ubbe's claim to negotiate. Alfred saw that as a better route to go instead of fighting, but not all thought the way he did.

But now, each time he tried to think of something new, the events of the pass days replayed over in his head. The utter blood shed and carnage that was unleashed. He desperately tried to shake those feelings and memories as he thought back to the claims of the brothers, but it also brought back another memory buried deep from his child hood.

In one came a young girl. He had only meant her a couple times before Ragnar was killed and she were sent away. She stood out to him the most. He remembered her silver hair and piercing amber eyes—eyes that reminded him of wolves. And perhaps the most was her innocence smile.

He paused trying to remember her, it had been forever since he last saw her and he couldn't help but think if she was still alive. Remembering, Alfred reached into his pocket and pulled out a small medallion. On the medallion was a three headed dragon carved on the front and on the back was the head of a wolf. This had been something the young girl had given him before she was sent away.

He rolled the medallion between his thumb and index finger, he had always kept it with him for he saw it as a good luck charm. And indeed it gave him luck in battle. But the stirring noise of his brother and mother snapped him back into reality.

Æthelred winced in pain as the young blonde chambermaiden pulled the cleaned cloth over his wound. Judith was standing nearby in the corner, keeping a close eye on the maiden and her eldest son. It had been a couple of days after he had been wounded in the battle and the cut from the arrow was still fresh.

Upon hearing his brother shuffling towards him, Alfred quickly tucked the carving back into his pocket before his brother could see. After all, neither his brother nor his mother, didn't quite like the young Targaryen girl or her family for that matter—maybe with the exception of Ragnar. All he knew was her father was friends with his father Athelstan. But his thoughts were soon interrupted when Æthelred groaned in pain beside him.

" How are you feeling brother?" Alfred acquired, looking over at the freshly wrapped wound on his shoulder. Æthelred sighed deeply before replying,
" Well, I've been better." He lightly chuckled before taking a seat beside his younger brother with his blue eyes still locked on the chamber-maiden.

Alfred however, didn't feel the need to do the same or act like his brother. He never let his eyes linger on a woman for long, it just wasn't right and didn't feel right to him. Perhaps he did spent too much time with his books...

Alfred still fiddled with the craving in his pocket, still trying to recall the young silver haired beauty. But as he was locked in thought, he felt a gentle tap upon his shoulder. It were Æthelred of course, eagerly trying to get his brother's attention. " I think the chamber-maiden likes you." He faintly whispered in a humming tone which caused Alfred to glance in the direction of the young maiden and find that indeed, she was smiling at him in a flirtatious way.

But unlike his brother, who felt the need to feast his eyes upon the common women's bosom, Alfred instinctively turned his attention away from the unpleasant pest in the corner. His books never actually prepared him on how to act around a woman nor to understand the feelings associated with it. But he felt he had better things do than worry about some woman he could never truly have a life with.

" Brother stop, we mustn't get ourselves carried away, you know we will be married off soon to noble families." Alfred plainly stated as he looked to his brother with disdain upon his face. Æthelred only smacked his lips together while shifting his body to the other side of the chair, still smiling at the maiden. It were times like this that Alfred wondered if Æthelred would really make a great king or even a great husband for that matter...

But their attention was soon drafted elsewhere when a guard and lord entered the tent. Headmund, being the nosey man he was, was the first to noticed and ask the obvious question, " What news do you have?"

The man removed his helmet before speaking," We have reports of two riders within distance of our camp. One looks to be like a priest and the other is one of ours. We also have reports that Coccham has been taken over as well." Æthelwulf let out a defeated sigh upon hearing the news before he started lightly rubbing his temples. Judith looked quite weary herself as now she believed God wasn't on their side. The guard that stood behind the lord quickly took his place beside Æthelwulf, the king's friend and protector.

" Let them enter and let's discuss of this new conquerer we have now and how we shall deal with him."

The journey hadn't been too rough on the old priest, well except for his back aching and his legs sore. But at least, he had some time think about the things he would say, after all he imagined Æthelwulf and Judith being extra cautious now. So the odds of exactly winning them over was very slim.

The entire ride there was nothing but peace and quiet for both him and the boy, for neither had said one word the entire way. Just quick glances at one another and that was about it. The guards in front of the Saxon camp watched as Father Beocca's horse proudly trotted pass the them, some of them seemed to never move an inch. The camp was quite large, with both small and large tents set up and people going about readying for battle.

The messenger boy was still close behind him, the lad was eager to tell the news he had discovered, but he would most likely paint Viserya in a bad picture and Beocca couldn't let that happen.

They stopped just short of the large tent with Beocca hopping of his horse whilst still taking in the site of Saxon camp. Some soldiers noticed them but none made the effort to come closer with others seemed caught up in conversation.

The messenger pushed passed Beocca with such a force, but the old priest simply dusted off his clothing before entering the tent. When he entered familiar faces popped up, but there were some not so familiar. Alfred and Æthelred were so much older than when he last saw them.

Æthelwulf and Judith had aged some more but then he glanced to the end of the table where a man he had never seen before was sitting. The man had set his cold piercing eyes on Beocca, seeming to watch his every move. The man's hair was cut back and slicked up, a long sword with a jewel on top laid by his side. The black clothing the man was wearing was enough to set an imitating look, but the cross that hung from his neck said otherwise.

Then standing beside Æthelwulf was his forever loyal guard, Alferic. A very tall and rather bulky man, one sporting a full on beard and brown hair. He was one Beocca truly never got along with, perhaps it were the opposing sides and thoughts.

" Father Beocca, what a joy it is to see you!" Alfred exclaimed, his voice bursting with joy. Beocca nodded his head, " Indeed my boy, I've missed you."

" And what about me Father Beocca?" An voice suddenly called out from behind him. Beocca instinctively turned in the direction of the voice and saw another priest standing by the entrance. His eyes went wide with happiness.

" Father Prylig? Is that you?" Beocca acquired and  the older priest stepped forward, lightly nodding his head.

" Well yes it is, i haven't seen you in awhile. Heard a old priest was coming and I figured it were you so why not show my face." The two priests shook hands but their reunion was short lived when Æthelwulf interrupted, " What news do you bring us? About Coccham that is?" He asked before crossing his hands in a tight fist in front of him, just waiting to hear what brilliant excuse Beocca was going to make once again.

" Ah Coccham, well Lord Oswald has been over thrown as I'm sure you all know by now, but because of that, Coccham is doing much better under the command of Viserya. She's cares for the people and they love her. She is not a bad pers..." he was instantly cut off by Æthelwulf.

" Well, considering people are dusting the remains of Lord Oswald off the street from her dragon's fire. How good can she be? She's no better than Ivar... A danger, we should not trust her."

Beocca squeezed his hands tightly together, " Viserya isn't evil and she isn't a heathen but a good hearted person. I helped raise her, helped show her the light of the lord and plus Lord Oswald wanted to take Wessex for himself, that's why your father sent her there, I'm sure you didn't know that." Beocca was starting to get ahead of himself and he quickly stopped himself before it was too late. King Æthelwulf cleared his throat, " Yes, that may be but you seem to forget who actually raised her." Judith's eyes darted back in forth between her sons and then on her husband before finally fixing upon Beocca.

" Her name is Viserya of House Targaryen, daughter to the khaleesi Daenerys Stormborn and daughter of the king in the north Jon Snow. She's of royal blood and you know it Æthelwulf. She isn't using her dragons for destroying, she's using them for good." He ends with a hint of annoyance in the tone of his voice. Æthelwulf and him seem to stare at each other, both waiting for one to break.

" I remember her." Alfred finally speaks up with his soft-spoken voice. Unlike his brother who was forceful and outspoken, Alfred was more reserved and gentle. They all turned to look at him simultaneously, instantly putting him on the spot.

He quietly tapped his finger on the chair," When I played chess with Ivar, she was there," Judith's eyes lingered away from her youngest son—the memory of the little girl flooded back into her memory, ones she had shut out because they had reminded her of Athelstan.

" I remember her the most besides Ragnar. Her hair was as white as fresh snow on a winter day and her eyes, were a piercing amber like a wolf's. She was kind and humble, I don't believe she could hurt anyone. Before she left, she gave me this." He said reaching into his pocket. He placed the gold medallion on the table and Beocca stepped forward. He leaned down and examined it, the three headed dragon and the wolf—the symbols of both of Viserya's parents.

He remembered the medallion, it had been something Daenerys had given him for Viserya so she would always have some part of her family with her. Alfred glanced upward his mouth slightly pursed and his eyes fixed on the medallion.

" She must care a lot for you to give you this medallion." Beocca finally said to which Alfred's brows creased together, " What do you mean?"
Beocca chuckled, " This medallion is of her people, something sacred given to me by her mother, a token of well being and luck." Alfred's cheeks flushed a pink color as he awkwardly picked the coin back up.

" When i was playing chess against Ivar, I was winning against him which i could tell he didn't like but he went along with it. But Viserya came over to where I was sitting and pointed to one of my pieces. I was confused at first, thinking she was doing it for her brother but she wasn't, she looked at me and in a tiny voice whispered," No here Alfred." And when I did what she said, it caused Ivar to lose more of his pieces from there on. She had given me more of an upper hand against him." He said placing the coin back into his pocket.

Beocca cleared his throat, " See she's not evil, she could have stayed with her brothers but she didn't. You and I both know Ecbert loved her deeply. He saw in Viserya, a queen who would not only be loved but would be feared by many, especially the Danes. The queen of Wessex." Æthelwulf's eyes went wide when Beocca said this.

" Yea, well my father said a lot of things, some that didn't even come true. Viserya will never be queen of Wessex you seem to forget who's side she is on, she is a heathen. She will stay on her side, We have discussed this."

Heahmund, who been sitting there quietly the whole time, finally spoke up. " Look, she already took over Coccham, I say we let her be queen for the time being. Let our army build back up and then we'll attack."

Beocca scrunched his nose up at him, " No, you should form an alliance with her, you want to defeat Ivar. She's the only way," Beocca points his finger at Æthelwulf, " Viserya is clever and she knows it. She's just as clever as Ivar and that's why he hates her, she's the only one who can bring him down."

Æthelwulf wondered about the possibility of an alliance, but Heahmund only laughed. " Everyone knows to never trust a Targaryen."

" Oh, so you've heard about the Targaryens?" Father Beocca asked sarcastically whilst shading Heahmund with a disgruntled look. " No, but I've read stories about them, ancient books on their history. How they burned people alive. But king Æthelwulf is right, how are we to trust her?"

Beocca felt like banging his head against the wall or better yet, he felt like talking to a wall would have been a better situation than talking to these people.
" She chose to listen to Ecbert, your father." Beocca pointed out as Æthelwulf leaned against his hand.

" Father, we must consider the offer of an alliance. We need all the help we can get." Alfred spoke.

Beocca smiled at the boy, finally they may actually get somewhere. " Trust me Ivar hates Viserya more than anything. Both of them want to see each other's downfall." He added in but Æthelwulf just wasn't having it, " Well, I will be the judge of that for in my experience, girls like her of Danish upbringing don't live very long." He replied rather annoyed.

Beocca begged to differ, Viserya was everything but weak, " Well, I don't think you know many girls like her m'lord." Judith couldn't help but slither a little smile upon her lips at Beocca's will to persuade him
for even she couldn't break Æthelwulf.

But Beocca wasn't done yet, he knew uttering these very words was not something said on Viserya's part but instead he improvised. He awkwardly cleared his throat, " May I add a suggestion? What about a marriage proposal?" It looked as if Beocca put a sin before God when those words slithered out from his mouth. Æthelwulf's eyes widened and his knuckles started turning white from him squeezing his fists so hard. 

" No, my sons will not marry someone like her, they are of royal blood and i do not care to hear about how she is of royal blood. She is a foreigner and if they had children, their would be bastards!" He shouted as slammed his fist down upon the table, shaking it to its core. Judith passed a glance to her disgruntled husband as she awkwardly shifted in her seat for after all, Alfred would have been considered a bastard.

But the little dispute was soon interrupted when a spy came rushing in—pushing the older priest over once again. Did these people not have any respect?

" Sire, there's a Dane hunting party in the woods." Æthelwulf's eyes and nature seemed to immediately brighten up at the newfound information, "Good, We will send some of the soldiers into the woods once more to starve them out." He said more than excited as he stood up.

Æthelred wanted to go, the yearning to please his father and prove himself a great warrior but Æthelwulf stopped him. The old king pleaded with his eldest that was no need in damaging his wound even further. The young man only groaned in defeat as Judith calmed him. But at least the maiden was there beside him.

But this left Alfred, who before would have declined but this time he took the chance. " I'll do it again Father," the young prince offered up, willing to lead the men into the forest. Æthelwulf smiled at him.
" That's my boy."

Alfred began readying himself with his armor and sword. Stepping out into the midday air, Father Prylig ran up beside him. " I'm coming with you whether you like it or not." Alfred paused for moment with his hand rested on the hild of his sword, " Are you sure father?" And the old man simply nodded, " Trust me my boy, I've seen more battles than you ever have."

It didn't take long for Ivar's hunting party to stumble into the Saxon trap. One by one they were cut down by Æthelwulf's loyal soldiers. Alfred and his party had rid the forest of the Danes. Bodies now littered the ground everyone. Some of the Saxon soldiers started throwing the Dane's kills onto the wagon, taking all the animals for themselves. Why not relish in the victory and take the winnings of others?

Alfred started walking away from the wagon proud of his small victory when he heard what sounded like flipping of wings mixed with a low rumble. Then a long shadow blanketed the forest floor in front of him. His eyes widened as he glanced up to a black mass making making its way over. At first the sun obscured his sight but upon focusing, it were a dragon with black scales and reddish wings accompanied by a lengthy tail behind. The large wings of the creature seem to engulf the entire forest under its darken shadow.

But as soon as the soldiers caught sight of the dragon, their eyes widened—full of fright and reached for their swords. But not Alfred, he was more fascinated by this creature than fear.

" What is that?" A soldier whimpered in broken words from behind. Alfred looked away from the dragon for second as he focused on the soldier, " A powerful creature, a dragon." They were real, his whole body bubbled with excitement. With dragons having only been myths to them, something drawn onto shields as patterns and decorations.

He quickly glanced back up, not wanting to miss another second, his green eyes followed the black mass across the sky. " I remember stories from the books I would read detailing about the dragons and their riders." He quietly spoke, but where was its rider? Where was the girl he had known, the one with the silver hair.

Alfred continued to gazed upon the young dragon until it slowly faded into the distance. Where he was relaxed—the soldiers however, continued to stand at the ready with their swords drawn at uneasy levels to which Father prylig noticed this.

" It's not going to attack. Now put your swords away, you're making me nervous." Father prylig remarked whilst he walked beside the young prince as they journeyed back to camp.

" You know there's a saying, that once a man has seen a dragon and Targaryen in flight, Let him stay at home and tend to his garden for there is no greater sight."

A light smile played across Alfred's lips, " Indeed, i feel it is true for nothing is truly greater than witnessing that." Father prylig smiled and nodded his head. They continued a ways on the path before he spook up again.

   " So you have indeed meant the young Targaryen?" Father Prylig continued on and Alfred did a simple nod, " Yes I've meant her, she strikes me as kind lady."

" And i see you want an alliance with her whereas your father doesn't, why is that?" Alfred gripped his sword tighter, he didn't particularly know why it just happened—the saying just came rushing out of his mouth without any thought. Perhaps it were his brain telling him alliances were better off than war.

    " Well, because she's strong and is willing to make the sacrifices needed to win." But Father Prylig had been on this earth longer than him and he knew a few things about the mind of a young boy. "And you're quite sure it isn't anything else Alfred?" Father Prylig pushed on as he continued to study the young boy. The prince only seemed to walk even faster away from the priest with his head held low.

Feeling confident with his findings thus proving his theory, Father Prylig followed in behind Alfred just before stopping when he heard a noise in the distance. He turned and peered in the direction of the unknown noise but could see nothing. Instead of waiting to see what it was, he chalked it up to being a deer and continued on.

Just moments after where Alfred's little party had been, a black stallion came marching out from within the woods with two smaller horses bringing up the rear. The stallion pawed proudly against the dampened and heavily forested path—with his large hooves digging into the darken dirt. When placed beside Finan and Uhtred's horses, her stallion over massed them both in strength and height. A marvelous creature..

The little group of three continued on their way down the saddened path. Birds happily chirped and danced away from above but even with the calming chirps, Viserya's nerves were still on edge. Even the horses were on edge as well, their ears dancing back in forth to each new sound and uneasy snorts escaped their flared nostrils.

With her up in front, Uhtred and Finan made sure to keep a close on her as they continued. They knew Ivar wasn't stupid and he wouldn't hesitate to have guards and spies everywhere. Killing Viserya would limit the number of threats he would have.

But as they rode along, Uhtred noticed something at the corner of his eye—a dark shadow that seemed to follow every movement they were making. He instinctively glanced in the direction of the unknown object moving between the trees. It were definitely a man but of whom he was associated with, he could not figure out. Uhtred squinted his eyes but whoever it was would tuck down upon being noticed.

With his anxiety switched on high alert, there was nothing more he could do than just watch, " We're being followed." Uhtred quietly whispered from behind to which Finan glanced at him quite confused. Viserya however, immediately twirled around gazing up the path then to either side of her, searching for the unseen man in the woods. Even with the sun breaking through the cracks of the leaves, it still didn't illuminate him.

" Who do you think it is? Perhaps a spy for Ivar?" Viserya acquired but Uhtred had a different theory.
" Well, it maybe but we are close to Kjartan, so it may be a simple scout tracking us, well more like my movement."

There was a moment of silence before Viserya spoke up just loud enough for it to echo, "Well no need to worry, we are safe, my dragon is not far away." Uhtred shook his head, this young Targaryen definitely had her ways of striking someone with fear—a queen who knew her power. But of course that could be a bad thing as well...

Finan nervously chuckled inter-miss of Viserya and Uhtred's conversation. Viserya signed heavily in response, " What is it Finan?" The young Irishman  scratched the back of his head before speaking, " So um, are we just going to ignore the dead bodies of the Danes back there?" When those words reached her, Viserya immediately cocked her body around in the saddle to face him.

" What do you mean, dead bodies? I didn't see anything." Finan's face said it all, why was he with these people. He slowly blinked his eyes are her with his head slightly cocked. " M'lady do you ever look down? They had been piled up beside a tree." Viserya narrowed her eyes at him, " You better not be playing with me Finan, we have a mission and we must keep our heads held high." With that being said, she turned back around in her saddle and pressed on further. But Finan knew better, the ground had been torn up and bodies piled up, there was a battle or clash of some sort. And it definitely wasn't the Danes for the manner in which the bodies were piled— too neat for them.

But instead reasoning, Viserya chose to ignore the warning signs and went on. She knew they had to have been getting close enough to either the Saxon camp or Ivar's, but which one would be more frightening to enter?

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REVISED OCTOBER 12th