"I am telling you, brother, she was sent by the gods..........." Ivar said, as he and Hvitserk made their way through the town.

"She was sent by something. But I am not sure that it was the gods......Hel, perhaps.........." Hvitserk scoffed, as he turned his attention to his bound hand. Grumbling under his breath, as he tried to clench his fist and felt the sting from the holes that her teeth had left in his flesh.

"She has one green eye and one blue eye. Maybe among her people she is a seer, gifted............."

"Gifted with sharp teeth............"

"Will you stop complaining like a child. It is your own fault; you should never have touched her. It was obvious that she didn't like you........."

"And she likes you..........?"

"Well, she didn't bite me........." Ivar replied smugly. A smile spreading across his lips as his brother rolled his eyes.

"What are we doing here anyway?" Hvitserk grumbled again, choosing to ignore Ivar's comment.

"We are here, brother, because I have heard that there is someone that might be able to understand (Y/n)'s tongue; that might be able to speak with her. I told you; I want to know more about what lies beyond the Roman wall, about the lands and riches there might be.........."

"And you want to know more about her too..........?"

"We found her for a reason. She was sent by Odin, Hvitserk, I am sure of it; so of course I want to know more about her." Ivar replied, as the two men finally got to one of the small stone buildings; the dark prince pushing open the door and allowing his older brother to enter the space beyond, before entering himself. A broad smile spreading across his lips, as he saw an old man sat in a chair; two of his men towering over him. The elder man cowering away, as Ivar slammed the door to the room, behind him.

"You speak the language of the Celts.....?" Ivar demanded to know, as he took a step towards the pale haired man.

"I was told that that is why you are here. That Heahmund had asked for you, so that you could speak to the woman, (Y/n), yes.........?" The prince continued. The old man simply nodding in reply.

"And did you speak to her?" Ivar demanded to know, as he moved to stand in front of the older man. One of the large Vikings grabbing hold of the man's hair and pulling his head backwards so that he was forced to look up at the prince.

"Well........?"

"The woman is a witch; she is marked. If you have been anywhere near her, you will have seen those eyes. I tried to tell the bishop what she was, but he didn't seem to want to listen. The devil gifted his daughter with a beauty that could beguile him; that can beguile many men, and he would not heed my words. He would simply take her to the chapel and force her to the floor in front of the altar, the pair praying for hours. It was only when she refused to go to his bed that he had her thrown into the cage; yet he still would not send her back to her master.......she is no better than you......." The man blurted out, as he fruitlessly tried to struggle against the grip that the large man had on his head. Ivar laughing at the information. This all just proving to him that she was indeed something special. That his god's had ensured that she was in the Saxon city for him to find. The prince sure that having a witch, a child of the Christian's devil, by his side, could only serve to put fear in the hearts of his enemies.

"You will come with me. I want you to find out more about her." Ivar ordered, before he nodded at the two men: both grabbing one of the elder man's arms so that they could drag him out of the building. The trio following not far behind the two sons of Ragnar.

                                                   >>-----------------------------------<<

Ivar and Hvitserk looked at one another as they got closer to the tents. The shouts and cries of women being heard. It obvious to those even on the outskirts of the town, that a fight was occurring. Hvitserk pulling out his sword, only to have Ivar place his hand on his shoulder. The older Ragnarsson's brows furrowing, as he looked to his smiling sibling.

"It would appear that (Y/n) likes our women, about as much as she likes you, brother." Ivar chuckled, before continuing on his way. Ordering Hvitserk and the men that had followed them, to wait outside before he pushed his way inside the tent. His eyes widening as he saw the scene before him.

When he had left the tent earlier, he had told some of the women to make sure that (Y/n) was washed properly, and that she had clean clothes to replace those that she had most likely been wearing since the bishop had had her locked away. Yet when he had, he had not thought it would end like this. (Y/n) standing there as naked as the day that she was born, with what was left of one of the chairs, held firmly in her hands. Her new weapon obviously having been used to already knock one woman to the floor, while she seemed to want to use the rest of it, to get at the others.

"(Y/n)!" Ivar called out. All eyes turning to look at the prince who was doing his best not to smile. The Celt throwing the chair to her side, before dropping herself to the floor.

"We tried, but........." One of the women began; wanting to try and explain, but all Ivar did was hold up his hand to stop her.

"Leave us." He ordered. The women looking at one another, before helping their friend from the floor and doing as the prince had said. Ivar ignoring their mutterings, as he made his way over to the Celt; finally letting a broad smile come to his lips, as he offered her his hand. (Y/n) taking it and letting him help her to her feet, before he moved her over to where a cooling tub of water was waiting. Ivar gesturing for her to step in, before he picked up the wet cloth and rubbed it across her bare skin.