Chapter 159: Side Story 1: The Children of the Pagan God

"It’s getting warmer it seems." Despite what Ivar said he rubbed his hands over a fire. The white mist coming from his mouth was a telling sign of the brutal cold he was suffering from.

"Doesn’t matter. I’m still freezing." Finn replied to Ivar before laughing as he dragged the animal pelt over his shoulders. "Forget that Ivar. Have you heard the news the greybeards have been saying?"

"About war?" Finn gave a deep nod and Ivar smiled. "My blade has been too clean recently. I’ve been waiting too long."

"Well, you know why we haven’t gone further than the neighboring Jarls," Finn said but his voice carried a hint of fear.

Ivar noticed it and looked at him. "You were part of the conquest of Jarl Bakken." To his question Finn just gave a single nod, causing a smile to appear on Ivar’s face. " A pathetic bunch. The Gods have come back to us and they still resist." Ivar pointed his axe towards Finn. "They should be happy it was only a flaying. Their flesh was too dirty to be used as a sacrifice."

"I don’t know." The fear was evident in his voice. "Seems brutal."

Ivar laughed at his words. "You weren’t there in those golden lands. I don’t expect you to understand completely." Ivar’s eyes burnt with worship as he recalled memories of the great raid. "Seeing a God return to our lands was mystical. I can tell you that those who are Godbund are different. You didn’t see Gorm’s ascension but the man didn’t make a sound even when his back was cut open."

Finn could only blankly look at him and shake his head in confusion. "You’re right. Anyway, it see...." His words were cut of by the blowing of a horn and both felt their backs go stiff.

"It’s time," Ivar said happily as he practically ran to the great hall, followed by Ivar. In front of the grand door to the hall, the skull of a large bear hung high above them. Pushing the doors hundreds of warriors stood inside. The loud talking was deafening and Ivar and Finn slipped in taking their place.

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The two wide doors opened and a cold breeze assaulted everyone inside the grand hall. All noise stopped in that instant as everyone bowed deeply. Worship and terror consumed their very beings as they didn’t even dare to breathe too loud. The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the hall as they slowly made their way past. Heads bowed deeper as they only saw the feet of the one who walked passed.

All were seasoned warriors who had seen enough blood and warfare to make a normal man numb to anything yet not one even allowed themselves to have a thought, afraid it may be too loud for the one walking passed. The echoing footsteps stopped and everyone took a deep breath waiting for the order.

"You may look at me." The devilish voice called out. it was almost a seductive whisper as heads rose simultaneously to see the figure sitting on a throne made of ancient wood covered in the fur of a large beast. Helga sat atop it looking at the eyes that looked at her. Worship, fear, and love. Her armour was scarred and her blade still carried a crimson glow telling of the blood she had recently spilled. Red paint was on her face making her sapphire eyes glow. Her braided hair showed her beautiful appearance to everyone, but no one dared to show an ounce of desire for her.

Flanking her sides were two brutish warriors with bear skin covering their bodies. Large battleaxes were by their sides as they waited for a single order from their God. "My followers." Helga’s voice called out and everyone’s bodies went stiff. "Our conquest has been fruitful. The neighbouring Jarls have seen the truth and now I control to the south. But we do not stop."

Clapping her hands the doors on the side opened as two withered ancient ones walked in holding golden hair twins in their hands. From behind a third carried the body of a dead wolf. The ancient ones placed the children in two cots next to her throne forcing her to her feet. "But conquest can not start without blessings. And today my children will be blessed as Godbound."

Pulling the dagger from her waist she gave it a soft stroke. Her fingers shook with happiness as she touched it. Walking to the slain wolf she took a bowl from the floor and placed it under the wolf’s neck. Stabbing deep into its neck a wave of excitement rushed through her. She watched as the crimson liquid filled the bowl. Taking the dagger she cut her palm and poured some of her blood in it.

Walking to her children with the bowl of blood she looked down at them. Her eyes only lingered on her son for a second before turning to her daughter, her smile growing as she looked at her. "The Father Hakon. In your name, I offer the blood of a God and wolf to Astrid. May your blessings guide her to the pantheon." Helga grabbed the small child’s mouth and forced it open. Taking the bowl she gently poured its contents into her mouth. She watched as the girl’s face showed a disgusted expression. She threatened to cry out but Helga stopped her, forcing her mouth closed until she drank the contents.

"The Father Hakon. In your name, I offer the blood of a God and wolf to Balder. May your blessings guide him to the pantheon." Once more she forced her son’s mouth open and forced the blood down it. Much like his sister, he threatened to cry out but Helga forced his mouth closed.

Her body whipped back around to face her followers. "With me, I brought back the age of the living Gods. The Bringer of the New Age is not a simple title. It is time to show the blind mortals of our home this truth. Celebrate, because tomorrow our conquest begins." Finishing her words she left from the side as everyone knelt deeply again. The two ancient ones picked up her children once more, following behind.

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Alone she placed the dagger carefully back onto its stand and turned to look at her children. Looking over her daughter she had a happy smile as she reached out and touched her face. Astrid’s eyes looked up at her mother and she reached out happily. Helga pushed the hand aside to continue to look at her face.’How perfect she is.’Her smile deepened as she spoke to herself. She couldn’t help it. She looked just like her.

Looking to her daughters right. Whilst she still wore a smile, the disappointment in her eyes was not something she could hide. Helga could see he would grow to be handsome and whilst he had her eyes, everything else about him made him look more like Alfred. She could only sigh in disappointment. He wasn’t perfect.

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At the head of the table, Alfred sat with his hands crossed under his chin. Looking down the table the place near him was empty and he could only hide his sadness as the rest took their seats.

"Everyone," Alfred called out and the inner circle looked towards him. "It’s our first meeting since the passing of our dear friend. But that does not mean we slow down." Alfred’s words got everyone to lower their heads slightly and he bitterly smiled seeing that.

"The Church, like vultures, are already scrambling to fill Raven’s place and with him gone, we have lost our support from them. I will not see the Church that he tried so hard to clean be destroyed once more."

Alfred took a deep breath wondering how he should phrase what he wanted to say. "Going forward they will begin to move against us. Throughout Raven’s time as Archbishop, he received word from the Holy Seat numerous times to consolidate power away from me. The factions over there are mixed but I can be sure that Church loyalists have been planted and are ready to take his place. This would have been years in the making and now the opportunity has arisen, they will move."

"If the worst comes to happen I ask you all here." Alfred paused and looked at them with cold eyes. It was something he had always had in mind when he heard of the history of the blessed ones from Raven. The man had been willing to follow him no matter what. He trusted Alfred’s role as Sol’s Champion, but he never had to make a move, Raven keeping the Church at bay.

Without him, he didn’t know anymore.’When everything is under your control, nothing will escape you’.Those words he had been told in that dream. They rang in his mind. Raven’s death could have been avoided had he truly controlled his new lands. He hated his weakness. If only he had taken stricter action he wouldn’t have lost his friend.

With another deep breath, he spoke in a chilling voice. "Would you follow me into another schism?"