GREATNESS
— 6. Spared

Near Repton in Mercia, where they had set up camp, Ylva sat with the sons of Ragnar, including Bjorn, and then also Freya, who was sitting beside Hvitserk.

"It seems to me that the Saxons are as timid as frightened women," Ivar spoke up with an amused look on his face, "Their hearts are faint. I don't think they can trouble us."

"You don't know enough, Ivar," Bjorn complained in an annoyed tone, "You haven't seen enough. These are brave men."

"Bjorn is right," Ylva spoke up, defending her husband, "He and I have fought against them before. You have not."

"I can only see what my eyes tell me, Ylva," Ivar replied in an arrogant tone, "And what I see if frightened people running before us. I see their spineless God running away from our gods."

"For once, why don't you just listen to an older, wiser brother?" Ubbe suggested, growing annoyed with Ivar as he handed him a cup of mead.

"Clearly, he can't," Freya commented as she rolled her eyes, "It's impossible for him."

"These people who are running away, they're not warriors," Ubbe reminded his brother as he looked directly at him, "They are not the ones who will stay and fight to defend this kingdom."

"And protect their honor," Sigurd pointed out in a calm tone, "For what is a warrior without his honor?"

Hearing his words, both Ivar and Freya began to laugh. "I don't know. You tell me, brother. And, tell me again, how many battles have you fought?"

"Same as you, brother, except I don't ride around in a comfortable bloody chariot!" Sigurd snapped at Ivar, earning a glare from the youngest son of Ragnar.

"What you have to learn, Ivar, is that if you break up the brotherhood, we shall not succeed," Bjorn complained in a stern tone, "We have many challenges ahead of us. So, if you want to keep arguing and whining like a little girl, then I suggest you leave. We don't need you."

"Oh, but you do need me," Ivar argued back, "Why do you think Father chose me to come with him to England?"

"Here we go," Ylva muttered under her breath as she rolled her eyes.

"He had a reason for doing so. He told me I was the one who would act for him, who would make sure he was revenge," Ivar ranted, but it was clear that Bjorn wasn't taking him seriously.

Bjorn lifted the cut-off the head of the stag he had killed, placing it in front of his own face to act as though he was the stag. "If that's what you want to think, then think it," He spoke in a teasing tone, causing the whole group to laugh, including Freya.

"I understand it must be hard for you to accept that the true heir to the great Ragnar Lothbrok should turn out to be a cripple and a reject," Ivar complained and Ylva groaned loudly, clearly growing aggravated with all their bickering.

Floki laughed as he sat a few feet away from them. He turned to the boys, looking done with their conversation. "So this is what the grunting of the little pigs was all about," He complained as he turned to look at them.

"Clearly, it was, which is quite sad in my opinion," Ylva complained as she stood up and shot the entire group an annoyed look, "Why don't you all just grow up and work together? Things would go a lot easier if you did so."

"I am not—" Bjorn began to argue, only to have Ylva turn and point a finger at him.

"Don't start. You're just as bad as they are. Start acting your age. You're older than them, but that doesn't mean you're smarter than them. In fact, you're all idiots, come to think of it," She scolded him before walking off, causing Ivar and Freya to both share a smile.

___

The Viking army was traveling through the woods, only to have Bjorn yell for them to stop where they were when they saw a man riding toward them. He climbed off his horse and Bjorn and Ylva were the first to walk toward him.

"What news?" Bjorn asked the man as he looked down at him alongside Ylva.

"The Saxons are less than a day's ride away," He informed them, glancing between Bjorn and Ylva, "They have a large army."

"We make camp here," Bjorn announced to the group as Ylva nodded in agreement, just as she always did, "Tomorrow we shall fight. In the name of our father, we shall overcome."

Bjorn whistled at one of the men, gesturing for him to make the announcement about making camp.

"You can make camp," Ivar suddenly spoke up, causing the rest of the group to turn to him. "I want to take a look at where we're going to fight. Freya will join me."

"What are you talking about?" Ubbe asked his brother, frowning in confusion.

"They will expect us to fight in a certain way," Ivar reminded his brothers and Ylva in a calm tone, earning a curious look from Ylva, "Why should we do that? Why don't we plan to fight in a different way, and surprise them?"

"He has a point," Freya spoke up, agreeing with Ivar. And in a way, Ylva knew he did, in fact, have a point in what he was saying.

Freya watched as Ylva turned to exchange a look with Bjorn, just before they were the first to walk over to her and Ivar.

Hvitserk joined them, looking up at his youngest brother and Freya. "Our warriors won't understand what's happening. We fight in the shield-wall. That's how we fight."

"But we have a bigger army now," Ivar argued in a calm tone, "And they have a bigger army, now, Hvitserk. We cannot fight in the same way."

"It's too late to change now," Sigurd complained as he shook his head in disapproval.

"Who are you to say that? Shut your mouth," Ivar snapped at Sigurd coldly and Ylva rolled her eyes, growing sick and tired of their constant bickering.

"We are brothers," Bjorn reminded the group in a stern tone, "Together! Why do you want to change the tactics?"

"Do you want to win, brother?" Ivar asked him with an attitude and Bjorn stared up at his youngest brother for a long moment in silence, "Listen, come with us, Bjorn. You and Ylva," He insisted, gesturing between himself and Freya, "Let's investigate the battlefield. Perhaps, instead of a narrow and small place, we should stretch the battlefield across a large area, many miles. And use the landscape. Ditches, hills, woods. What do you say?"

"If it works, it is a good plan. If it doesn't, then it is a bad plan," Bjorn commented, causing Ylva to give her husband a weird look.

"Great idea," Ylva commented in a sarcastic tone.

Two horses were brought over and Bjorn and Ylva wasted no time climbing onto them.

Freya turned, watching as Ivar held his hand out to her. "Get on," He insisted and gradually beginning to smile, Freya grabbed his hand and climbed off.

With that, the group of four rode off, prepared to check out the battlefield.

____

The following day, it was finally the day of the battle. The armies of Wessex, led by Prince Æthelwulf, rode forward and soon came to a stop when they saw the Northmen had disappeared from the hill.

Tightly grasping her bow, Ylva ran through the woods with Bjorn, the rest of their forces following close behind them.

They continued to run through as fast as they could. Reaching the ends up the woods, they found the Saxons on the field right in front of them. They wasted no time drawing their arrows and shooting at the Saxons in front of them.

Ylva smiled, realizing just how clever the plan Ivar made was.

The Saxons quickly raised their shields, trying their best to protect themselves. After a long while, they drop their bows and retreated, much to the confusion of the Saxons.

They ended up traveling to Repton, but ended up stopping halfway there. As part of their plan, they kept hidden and just as Ivar said they would, the Saxon forces began to ride through, only to be attacked by arrows coming from the Northmen.

Led by Bjorn and Ylva, the people who were holding bows charged toward the Saxons, yelling out as they did so.

As always, Ylva held an ax in one hand and a sword in the other. "Shield-wall!" Bjorn shouted and his men immediately obeyed them.

"Charge!" She heard Æthelwulf yell at his own men before they began to charge toward the Northmen.

"Charge!" Bjorn shouted as well and with that, Ylva wasted no time using forward.

Æthelwulf had his sword raised, but Ylva avoided him completely, deciding to attack some Saxons that they on foot instead.

The two forces collided and Ylva began slashing at any Saxon in her way. At the same time, she slashed her ax at one while stabbing another in the chest with her sword.

One of the Saxons attempted to strike her with his shield. She kicked him back and when he stumbled, he gave her the opportunity to strike him in the face with her ax. She whipped herself around, killing another who was on the verge of attacking her.

Blood and dirt began to cover her more than ever as she began to fight more viciously, her forms of attack could easily be compared to a Berserker.

She yelled a command to her men in her native tongue, leading them all to hold their shields in a way that looked like steps. She jumped up and ran across the floor of shields before pouncing on Æthelwulf, who was the only Saxon left on a horse.

She grabbed ahold of him and brought him to the ground with her. As he pushed himself off the ground, Æthelwulf was on the verge of attacking her when he suddenly recognized her. She was, after all, the only Saxon aside from Ragnar Lothbrok he had ever truly gotten to know personally. And in truth, she was the only Northmen he actually liked.

At that moment, three Vikings charged at him and he killed them at ease. Ylva, however, continued to stand there.

She lifted her sword and slashed her sword at him. However, much to even her own dismay, her sword stopped just a few inches away from his neck.

Æthelwulf had had his eyes closed, preparing to die when he realized that Ylva had spared him. His eyes shot open and he stared at her in shock.

She growled under her breath and walked away, much to Æthelwulf's disbelief. She killed three other Saxons next to him, but not him.

From afar, Bjorn had been slaughtering any Saxon he laid eyes on when he witnessed Ylva's actions. He frowned in concern but continued to fight any Saxon in his path.

Ylva shouted out as she continued to slaughter any Saxons near her. One of them swung at her and she ducked, just before slashing him across the belly with her ax.

A horn blared and Ylva turned, watching as the rest of their forces arrived, Ivar and Freya both riding on his chariot.

"Save yourself! Save yourself!" She heard Æthelwulf shouting at his men in his native tongue, "For the love of God, save yourselves!"

She watched as he climbed on his horse, beginning to ride away. "Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!"

She laughed at the sight and shook her head. "Cowards," She muttered under her breath and moved toward Bjorn as the men around them cheered loudly in victory.

Bjorn grabbed her by the arm and moved her closer to him. Neither of them cared that blood and dirt covered their faces. Bjorn smiled, wasting no time kissing her.

Ylva pulled away and smiled slightly at him. She ran her hand over his cheek before she walked away from him, her smile fading.

He frowned at her actions, knowing something was wrong. She was looking around, annoyed to see everyone shouting and cheering in victory.

He watched as she walked over to his brothers and Freya, who were cheering happily about their victory over the Saxons.

"What are you so happy about?" She snapped at the group coldly, causing each of their smiles to gradually fade as they gave her a puzzled look.

"It is not over yet," She spoke quietly as she shook her head, "Not even close."

Bjorn walked over to Ylva and sighed, knowing she was right.