The Tired Finch| Ubbe Ragnarsson

Chapter Nineteen: Trust

The blood pounded in Ubbe's ears as he strided down the dark streets. He shoved any drunkard who got in his way. He knocked many men to the ground with fury.

He was on a mission and it was to kill Bjarke. Ubbe kicked the Great Hall doors open and held his axe in a death grip. The aura he gave off stilled every guest. They all looked at the prince with curiosity.

People cleared a way for the angry prince. He snarled like a wild beast as he surveyed the room.

"WHERE IS HE?" Ubbe questioned with pure ferocity.

Ivar grinned like the Cheshire cat. He loved violence, he thrived off it. It was the greatest entertainment any man could ask for. "Where is who, brother?" Ivar asked civilly.

"Bjarke! Where is that bastard?" He looked around only to fall disappointed. He wasn't there.

Ivar stood tall with his crutches to help. "Come, brother. We'll talk in private."

Ubbe flared his nostrils but complied, following his younger brother into an empty room. Once Ivar closed the door, the Great Hall erupted into noisy chatter.

Hvitserk was intrigued. For a moment, he thought he was the dead man. He left Margrethe behind to see what all that commotion was about.

As he entered the room, Ubbe was pacing the floor like a madman. Ivar was calmly trying to ask why his brother wanted to kill one of the most powerful commanders they have on their side.

"He is the one." Ubbe said darkly. "He raped Winifred, he raped my wife!"

The men were stilled into silence. Ivar was the first to break the trance of shock.

"Are you sure, brother? That's a serious accusation and against an ally we need."

"Winifred said it was him. He was her rapist. So, I am going to kill him. Which room is he in?" Ubbe pressed.

"As much as I would love to tell you, you cannot kill him." Ivar said as if it pained him to say. His eyes widened as he took notice how absurd it sounded coming from his mouth. "I can't believe I said that."

"We can still win without him." Ubbe said with confidence.

"I have a plan," Hvitserk said breaking his silence.

"Oh boy," Ivar muttered.

"Shut it, Ivar!" Hvitserk growled. "There's a way to get justice for Ubbe's wife and to win this battle."

"Do tell, brother." Ivar said with scepticism.

"We use him for our benefit and then we kill him when we are done. If we straight out kill him, no matter the offense, his men will turn against him. They are loyal to him. But not when you spread whispers and chatter. They soon will no longer be loyal and we can kill him in battle without concern. We take his warriors." Hvitserk suggested.

"Why not kill him and force his men into loyalty? Threats work." Ivar shrugged. "Of course, after we use him."

"No! We kill him tonight! I am not fighting along his side!" Ubbe shouted, spit spraying from his mouth like a rabid animal.

"Ubbe, I know you are angry. We are too. He deserves to pay for his crimes, but we need to win. We cannot go back to Norway with no riches and land. We will finish what our father started." Hvitserk said sternly. "You will have your vengeance. But first, we need to win."

Ubbe's anger turned to sorrow. His eyes glossed over. "I cannot go back home without his head. I promised to protect her! And I will do so with my life! I love her!"