The cripple and the shieldmaiden

// 27 //

IVAR'S P.O.V

She looked terrible, like she was sick or something. Her skin was pale, eyes shouting exhaustion, her body shivered in pain and cold with every move she maked. Torhild shouldn't be here, her red dress covered the blood she lost but there were signs enough, she needed to rest. That little stubbornness she showed in her brown dark eyes she had from him, or at least, he had told her to be stubborn about the things she wanted. And just like him, she wanted to see that lord die. So he wasn't so concerned about Torhild in the moment when he had much brighter things to look forward to. 'You sure you can handle this?' Björn asked, crouching besides Ivar. Ivar turned his head and looked to the little amusement in Björn his eyes.
'I told you before, I imagine myself sitting.' He answered coldly before looking back towards Lord Edgar who sat between two wooden poles on his knees, hands tied to each one of them.
'Go have fun.' Björn said with a little grin. Ivar smiled and crawled towards the lord.
'You must have heard of king Aelle his dead?' He asked, most cheery about his situation on this right moment. Lord Edgar looked at him, for a split second, before he looked back up. 'I take that as a yes.' Ivar nodded. The beacons of fire were the only things brighting this night while drums filled the air with songs for the gods. The whole settlement stood around the wooden platform, a whole heathen army was wathing. It wasn't something that Ivar noticed, he only noticed that lord and the fact that he could kill him for her. Torhild sat down, Lagertha and Ase on each side of her, her eyes hardly the power to concentrate them on the ritual. Ivar crawled to the back of the lord, his brothers helping him on a piece of wood so he easily had access to the lords back. Lagertha came to him, handing a knife.
'Torhild wanted me to give you this.' She said on a neutral voice. He didn't look to the queen he hated so much for killing his mother but he took the knife and looked at it. It was his promise and hers to kill a lord and a king with it and he felt his attraction towards her grew stronger with things like this.

In vikings ways the Blood Eagle was a horrible way to die but the men who had to get one did it with pride. This lord ... Ivar could almost smell the fear on him with every second he came closer to his own dead. Being nailed to a cross must be painfull, but carving an eagle in his back, chopping out ribs to get to his lungs was a much worse way to die. Björn nodded and walked to the front of the lord.
'I hope you hold on to the end and I hope you screams reach to your king so he knows that his dead will be coming soon.' Björn said sattisfied, taking a deep breath before he stand with his mother and sister. Ubbe tore of the clothes that the lord stil wore before it was Ivar his turn. He felt so much on that moment, putting his knife of the lower of that lords back while pulling it up, cutting his way through his flesh. The lord started shaking, holding down his screams while the cut grew longer and longer. Ivar couldn't resist a smile, a sick amused smile that would scare half this army. The blood started to flow down from his back, dripping down on the wooden platform. He felt it, the warmth of the blood over his hand and it only maked him want to do more. When he cutted his way throught the flesh, with Torhild her knife he looked aside to his brother who gave him an axe instead. The lord held his head up, being proud about still breathing in the moment. He held the axe up, looking down on the back before the blade of the axe carved himself in. The lord schouted out and the drums got a little higher in their songs. The blood splached up, covering Ivar his face and he almost laughed out loud about. In the second cut with the axe he saw the lord his arms relax a little, wat meant that he was giving up, unconscious or already dead, he hoped not the last. Ivar looked to the back of the head from lord Edgar that trew himself backwards to yell in pain to the sky. Ivar looked at Torhild for a second only to see that she looked back at him before she closed her eyes, like she maked peace with something. He pulled his axe back, reached into the flesh to grab a rib and pulled it with a loud crack out of his position. And on that moment the lord his muscles tensed before every bit of life slowly fadded away out of his body. A perfect blood eagle, every rib he cracked to the open sky so everybody could see him on the in and outside, a present to his gods and a statement to every soldier, king or lord in this kingdom, a viking never surrendered. Despite he was dead, Ivar maked it complete by pulling out the lungs in the ending before he looked to the sky, to his gods. 'We have the settlement back.' Björn announched, jumping on the platform and grabbing the hair of the dead lord. 'We avenged the lives we lost, let's feast!' He yelled and everybody started to rumble in the excitment of this night. Ivar licked the blood from his lips and looked aside to his brothers.
'You want to do that again, aren't you?' Hvitserk asked. The almost possessed smile spreaded over his lips, he dipped his fingers in the blood of the lord and blessed both his brothers by leaving a smear of blood on their faces.
'Let the gods be generous to uss all brothers.' He whispered. Ubbe smiled and looked aside to his younger brother Hvitserk.
'Let's feast.' Hvitserk announched. Ivar nodded before he looked back to the blood eagle he had made, it was magnificent.