WRATH OF WAR [BJÖRN IRONSIDE]

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Clouds hovered themselves over Ecbert's kingdom, an oddly eerie silence was spread between all warriors and confusion filled everyone's mind. The first son of Ragnar Lothbrok had died. Sigurd Ragnarsson had died. Killed by the hand of his own brother. Ivar Lothbrok had thrown an axe towards his own brother in pure anger, hit his brothers heart and killed him moments later. Sigurd had taken it like the strong man Vál had always imagined him to be underneath the shyness he had when he was a child and the cold front he built when he got older.

Vál's mind was split, she was furious with Sigurd for pushing Ivar towards an unknown place neither one had explored before yet she felt broken for him as she understood why he was angry with Ivar. Sigurd were such a small and shy child when Ivar was born, constantly being watched by his mother who kept him away from growing up to a strong man, someone Vál had given a chance to train despite Aslaug's warning glances. When his youngest brother was born his mother stopped caring for his other sons, Ubbe and Hvitserk were older, closer and were more confident in themselves as Sigurd were starting to develop into his own human being. She couldn't imagine the feeling of once having your mother always there to protect you then the other her attention was given to someone else.

Vál was more than furious with Ivar for letting Sigurd get to him, to let himself loose his temperament that made him kill his brother. However she also felt broken for Ivar, the young man whose life had been filled with more pain than pleasure. He had fought a battle since the first breath he took, the only one's believing in him had been his own mother and Vál. His own father who had left him out to die in the forest, who got back from a helping hand only to grow up with a brother who slightly grew to hate him. His own flesh and blood, his own brother had built up a strong form of hate. It hadn't made it easy for Ivar, not being able to play with his brothers like everyone else. When the other ran away he was left there in his trolley until one of the other brothers noticed they had forgotten him; them usually being Hvitserk or Ubbe.

Sigurd had been carried to one of the boats Floki quickly were creating for Sigurd. Helga had walked inside the kingdom with the unknown brunette girl Vál never had the chance to meet or see since Vál hadn't gotten the chance to speak to Helga. They had been on different boats, then as they reach England they were off to battle then what felt like seconds they were watching Sigurd's body lay lifeless by Ivar's feet. Vál was exhausted, her mind was throbbing and she had almost difficulties with focusing. Too much was happening and she was seated alone by the market as people hurried around, talking, fixing for Ragnar Lothbrok's son's funeral.

Vál's eyes watered when she saw Ivar crawling away alone, his own brothers sending him disgusted looks and her heart broke. She pulled her fingers through her hair and she tried to wrap her mind around the situation. She let out a shaky breath as she opened her eyes, blinking quickly before letting her eyes roam around the market with emptiness in her eyes. There was faint yelling before it disappeared when it drowned in the mumbling from the market.

Vál needed to speak to Ivar alone. She needed to speak to the other sons alone but she couldn't move, she could speak and her brain wouldn't let her do anything than to stare into thin air. She knew Hel could break loose any moment, Ivar's brothers would go for him which she understood yet she knew deep down that she would defend Ivar's actions. She would always do that even if she opposed his actions. The reason being that she understood. Sigurd had gone after him, pressed all Ivar's buttons at once and finally Ivar exploded. It was only a matter of time before it would've happened.