𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘛𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴/𝘐𝘷𝘢𝘳

Chapter I - Who is she?

It has been a long time since the children of great warriors grew up and became ambitious and independent.

— The father is no more, the mother was killed by that bitch Lagertha. — Three brothers: Ubbe, Hvitserk and Sigurd silently and sadly lowered their heads. Only Ivar, the youngest son of Ragnar Lodbrok, poured out all his hatred. He was looking forward to retribution, waiting for the death of Lagertha, the murderer of such a dear person for him. How he hated her, how he wanted revenge. Ragnar's four sons were sitting in the hunting lodge and talking about their upcoming revenge plans.—We need to kill Lagertha immediately," Ivar said in a quiet but firm voice. "Are you all with me, brothers?"

A loud silence reigned in the room for a long time. For the first time, the brothers were between two fires — to avenge their mother or their father.

"Ivar, we can't kill Lagertha right now," Ubbe said. — We are going to march to England, we want to avenge our father first. This is more important now. Moreover, she is the queen."We need additional forces, warriors,— Hvitserk explained.

— What stupid and soulless asses you are. Our mother was killed, and you..." Ivar did not finish and crawled away from the house.

The brothers just looked at each other. Ivar, the youngest brother, had a very short temper. It didn't cost anything to annoy him. But, in fact, it was all the fault of his injury and the constant pain in his legs, which he tried with all his might to drown out. He was a cripple, and this brand will accompany him all his life. And they also killed his very own person, his queen Aslaug, his mother. That's why he had to prove himself, prove to everyone that he was the same son of Ragnar as everyone else. That he's no worse. That he is just in his intentions.
And for several weeks in a row, the younger Lodbrok was simply obsessed with killing Lagertha. He saw nothing and no one, except Lagertha and her imminent death.

***One day four brothers went to exercise in the forest, because they were doing it all the time. The sword and other weapons were native things for the sons of Ragnar. While the brothers tested themselves for strength in a training battle, Ivar sharpened an axe, sitting on a stump. Anxious and aggressive thoughts went away somewhere when the young Viking touched the axe blade and inhaled the pleasant aroma of the forest. All this time Sigurd clung to and kindled anger in his younger brotherLooking up at the Snake—Eyed Man, Ivar felt a familiar feeling - the boiling of blood in his veins returned to him. And when his brother bullied him, the cripple felt his arm begin to throb. He held the axe so tightly that the edge of his fingers turned white. He grinned, his eyes lit up with mischief, and a desire for revenge seized him. Throwing away the axe, he grabbed a bow and arrow and stood up. But suddenly a horse roared in the distance, and Ivar saw a female silhouette. This silhouette was very similar to Lagertha. Yes, it was definitely Lagertha, the cripple thought. She. Her hair, her clothes, and at the same time not her. But what could this bitch have forgotten here?—Hey, brothers, I see Lagertha there," Ivar exclaimed, lowering his bow. Everyone turned their gaze towards the woman, but saw no one.

"Our brother is completely out of his mind, he sees only Lagertha everywhere," Sigurd said indifferently. Ubbe and Hvitserk just grinned and exchanged glances.Ivar glared at his brother, grabbed his bow again and fired in the direction of Sigurd, the arrow hit a tree, almost touching the face of another young Lodbrok. The snake-eyed man clenched his hands into fists and spat to the side. But Boneless didn't care, he was already sick of the fact that his brothers didn't take him seriously. Of course, what can you take from a cripple? Even if he hits the target with an arrow more accurately than anyone else and fights with swords better than all his brothers, he is still a cripple and a stupid little brother. He drowned out his violent pain in his legs with rage and anger and did not understand that his brothers loved him, in their own way, but they loved him.