l am Uhtred, son of Uhtred,
I have sworn my sword to Alfred and defeated Sigefrid and Erik.
But the brothers returned from banishment and have taken Lunden.
Alfred sent a priest to negotiate with the Northmen...
Father Pyrlig was once a warrior himself.
While continuing his mission to be king of all of the English.
- I'm to be married? - Which one of you is Aethelred?
From what I know, Alfred could not have chosen a bigger turd.
Having, at last, freed my sister, Thyra,
my friend Beocca found love.
l fear you have become someone I cannot live without.
Fear no more.
Whereas I found myself talking to the dead
and wanting to believe every word that he spoke.
He said that I should be King of Wessex and that you,
you should be a king, too.
King of Mercia.
King of Saxon AND Dane.
What we have just witnessed, you believe it to be true?
Now, I must decide where my loyalties lie.
Do not forget... you were raised as a Dane.
Destiny is all!
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You've barely washed, woman!
You've been living with Saxons for too long!
How can I wash in dirty waters?
The water is good. We're a long way from the city.
We will be late for the wedding.
I've been thinking about the man in the grave, Bjorn.
Uhtred, no...
- You would not like to be a queen? - Of Bebbanburg, yes.
Let us just enjoy an early morning.
The two of us.
And a hunting party.
Who is it?
It's Aethelred.
The Lord of Mercia.
Uhtred of Bebbanburg!
Word has been that you were missing.
Aethelred.
I see you managed to remove your head from the King's arse.
Well, for the moment... He's sleeping.
The King has questions about your loyalty...
It's his way.
And he tells me that you've been associating with those heathen Danes.
Like this one, here.
Uhtred, we are needed elsewhere.
Is he required between your legs, my dear?
At ease, men.
- You wouldn't dare. - What, take your nose?
- I think I might... - Uhtred, we are needed.
Lord Uhtred, you will let Lord Aethelred go.
Please.
Lady, on behalf of my lord, I apologise.
- He does not! - No?
There can be no bloodshed here.
We are all mistaken
and we are all proud.
What men say is true.
You behave as if you were still at your mother's tit.
You will learn respect one day, I'm sure.
Lord...
- It is over, is it not? - It is!
I have the King's trust!
That's a warning!
I want him dead.
Too soon.
I'm sure Alfred would prefer him dead at times,
- but he knows his value. - He's nothing but a heathen.
Uhtred kills Danes.
He kills Danes,
he survives slavery.
He saves the life of children and mice, no doubt.
Even my wife-to-be sings his praises...
Leave us.
I do not like him
and he doesn't like me.
From the moment that we met.
You are a threat, lord.
And he is the same.
Our hope lies in Daneland.
With luck, the unrest will grow. Peace is not in their nature.
You wish for war, Aldhelm?
As a Mercian, lord,
what I wish is for Aethelred to be crowned King of Mercia.
And then, of Wessex.
Why not?
It is Alfred we want dead
and for that to happen sooner, we will require war.
How do we look?
As royalty.
Aethelflaed is a fortunate young woman.
I am witness.
You are together, never to part,
bound as man
and his wife.
- And a prayer? - I don't know any prayers!
I will say a prayer.
Hild.
Please.
Let us pray that God and all his saints and all his angels in Heaven,
smile and bless you.
Let us pray that this union of Dane and Saxon
can show that this is a land for all people.
Under one God.
Under one God, of course.
- Amen. - Amen.
When are you going to tell him what Sihtric saw?
That the ghost is a lie.
If I tell him, he'll talk.
And Sigefrid will hear.
They must believe that we believe.
I do enjoy another wedding.
A royal wedding, in particular.
It is a tonic for the soul. The excitement, the expense...
Aethelwold, I'm still undecided, so do not mention talking corpses.
Nobles have travelled across the sea, from as far as Frankia,
solely to see the beautiful Aethelflaed
marry this pretty bread-pudding of a boy.
A fair description.
Furthermore, he gets to hump the King's daughter all night long.
Aethelwold, you will be quiet.
- It is the truth. - You will be quiet.
Or you will do what, Irishman?
Kill you in your sleep.
- She is so beautiful. - She is too good for him.
Why ARE we delaying?
Did Sihtric witness something at the grave-side...
Sihtric saw nothing.
May I say that you look quite beautiful.
God looks upon me with favour I do not deserve.
Lord God in your heaven,
we are humbly gathered before you
on this day of thanks
and celebration.
If you don't mind!
The point I make is simple: all of the power, all of the wealth,
all of the land that could belong to you, will now belong to him.
- Should I hit him? - Yes! Yes, by all means, strike me.
But in your heart, in your purse, you know I speak the truth.
Yes, hit him.
All I will say, again,
is that the dead man speaks the truth...
- Lord? - Some would say it's treason.
- No, no, this wedding is treason... - Lord?
This wedding is a betrayal of Wessex and the men of Wessex.
Meaning you?
Should the King die, I have a strong and rightful claim.
Now, Alfred is working to make a new line of succession...
- Excuse me, Lord Uhtred. - Go away.
I am Osferth.
You are a monk, a baby monk.
- Go, away. - Lord, you... You knew my uncle, lord.
His name was Leofric.
Leofric was a great man.
You are Alfred's bastard son.
No, but I... I wish to join you, lord. Be by your side as my uncle was.
No, we have no need of a monk.
As a warrior.
Lord, I wish to serve you as a warrior.
Uhtred?
Uhtred, you are wanted.
The King!
Enjoy the wedding feast.
You!
Find me again.
Bring a sword and lose your cross.
Thank you, my lord. I will...
Lord.
- You were seen. - Seen where, lord?
Leaving Winchester.
Leaving Wessex, entering Saxon Mercia and crossing Watling Street.
Going into Daneland, Uhtred.
I'm sure you have an explanation.
I trust we will hear the truth of it.
What business do you have in Daneland?
The King's business.
Lord, your business.
You're happy for me to speak in this company?
Freely, why not?
Lunden has been taken, by the Northmen,
Sigefrid and Erik.
- Never! Says who? - Did my lips not move?
Sigefrid and Erik are in Frankia.
They were, and now they are not, lord.
They have a fleet at Beamfleot, they have an army at Beamfleot,
some of which has sailed upriver and taken Lunden.
IF this is true, it cannot be allowed.
Lunden belongs to Mercia.
They will choke the river.
They will, lord.
With respect, Lord Uhtred.
You have still not explained why you crossed the street into Daneland.
I can never remember your name.
I am Aldhelm, I'm Commander of Lord Aethelred's household guard.
Would you like me to write it down?
You will answer, Uhtred.
I was invited to Daneland, lady, to Padintune.
And there, I was asked to join with Sigefrid and Erik.
I was offered the Kingdom of Mercia.
- And your response? - He is here, is he not?
I would say that is response enough.
Uhtred, I did not see you at the church, I do hope you were there.
I was there, lady. of course I was.
And may I say how beautiful you are today.
Thank you.
My dear, we're discussing a matter of importance.
Yes, I heard, lord.
So, are the Northmen intending to remain in Lunden
or are they waiting for a ransom?
Fair question.
Besides Uhtred's loyalties, it is the only question.
We shall offer negotiations.
- Quite right. - Once the celebrations are done,
you, together with Aethelred, shall travel to Lunden.
At the very least, you can assess their strength and their numbers.
An excellent way forward, lord.
Though if you had killed these brothers in Northumbria,
this event could not have occurred.
Lord King, may I ask what bargain was struck in Northumbria?
To allow the brothers to leave with their lives?
Uhtred has told me this story. He defeated Sigefrid in combat
but spared him on the condition they leave.
He did this to preserve the lives of his own men.
It is called negotiation, Lord Aldhelm.
And now, we suffer the consequences of this negotiation.
Decisions are made and consequences follow. It is the way.
Our task is to deal with the present.
To your wisdom, lord.
My dear.
It's not your place to involve yourself in a conversation
that became an informal Witan.
We were discussing matters of land and war.
Lord, I take an interest in these matters,
my father has always encouraged...
You are no longer the King's daughter.
You are my wife.
It's me you will obey.
You are delicate.
I find it interesting. I would speak with the King often...
You're of Mercia now.
You are my queen.
And you think you're a king?
I call you queen because you mean that much to me.
I do not like your tone nor accusation.
What I would like...
is you,
on your belly...
on the bed.
Lord...?
Your husband wishes to ride you.
You will lie on your belly.
What's this?
Disobedience?
It's confusion, lord.
Should I hand you back to Wessex?
Unused, but... tarnished?
You wouldn't dare.
We shall see.
Lord!
I am your wife.
A good day.
It was.
Though I'm glad it's over.
Lord!
If I may have a brief word?
Lady, it will take just a moment.
Be sure it does, Odda. The King is tired.
Lord...
I fear that you undervalue Uhtred.
He is by far our most accomplished warrior
and has been nothing but loyal...
Odda, we have discussed this many times.
He is sworn and yet he continues to behave as if he were his own man.
He is a little reckless at times, yes...
Uhtred crosses into Daneland without advising you or I first!
I tolerate this behaviour
only because he is our most accomplished warrior.
But if he had not crossed the street, lord,
we would not know of the fall of Lunden...
Do not doubt, for one moment, Uhtred Ragnarson has ambition.
He will have been tempted by this offer from the Northmen.
And yet, he is here, lord.
Doing what?
Spying? Waiting?
Did he volunteer this information before being confronted?
No, he did not.
- No, lord... - Ask yourself why.
I have said many times...
he is a sword I would rather wield than face
but he is not godly and never shall be.
I wish you a good night's rest, Odda, you are clearly in need of it.
What troubles you, Brother?
Uhtred, he doubts the dead man.
You believe so?
Yes.
We should have approached him man-on-man, with honour.
You think he knows it is a trick?
Yes.
Maybe.
You don't know.
No.
Ah.
How's the pain?
The same.
Constant.
It reminds me I am alive.
That I should live.
If Uhtred knows that Bjorn is a lie...
then he will come,
with Alfred's army.
Yes.
So, I get to kill him after all.
If we wish, there is a way to raise the greatest army
these shores have ever seen.
It can be done.
The Temes River would be dark with ships, Danes and Northmen.
All we need to be is clever...
and patient.
Patient?
Oh, there will still be blood to spill, Brother.
But this way, we can be Kings of it all.
No Guthrun.
No Aethelred.
No Alfred.
No Uhtred.
They say Lunden is dangerous.
Oh, it is, but Lunden is alive with every kind of life.
I hear women do not walk the streets unguarded,
that bodies are found in the river daily.
Twice daily, with each and every tide.
Lunden is not Winchester,
but one year here is worth ten elsewhere.
Then why do you not live here?
And end up dead in the river? Do I look like a fool?
What's to stop them from cutting our throats
and siding with the Northmen?
I've been pondering the same.
The answer is that you are Alfred's son-in-law now.
Uhtred, how is it that you know these streets so well?
I stayed here for a time,
with Earl Ragnar the Fearless, when I was a boy.
When you were a Dane?
As you can see, the one fact in our favour
is that the whole of Lunden cannot be defended, it's too big.
Even the walls surrounding the old Roman city
would need many hundreds of men.
So, the brothers' position is weak?
Not weak, but Lunden's been open to all tribes for a reason.
The ground's not far now. I shall speak.
You should ask for food and ale, lord,
my belly believes my throat is cut.
I do not understand how this kills a man.
Sigefrid, take his head and be done with it.
No, no. No, no, no. I want to know how.
The cross kills a man slowly, lord, over days.
It is both torture and execution.
Unlike Saxons and Danes, the Romans were clever.
There, you have your answer. Now take his head off.
Agreed, lord, and if you please, when it comes to me,
with your sharpest axe and strongest man.
You talk too much.
I do, you should kill me swiftly.
God preserve us...
It is a death.
Nothing more.
Lords!
It is Uhtred.
Uhtred Ragnarson!
The future King of Mercia!
Welcome to Lunden,
your new home, should you want it.
Sigefrid.
I thought you might want to kill me still.
0h, for a long time, I did.
But then, I grew to like my new hand.
Though I have to be careful when wiping my arse.
It is good to see you here, Uhtred.
Though your friends are not familiar.
This is Aethelred of Mercia.
Lord.
My spies tell me you are to marry Alfred's daughter.
Your spies are wrong, lord. I've already married Alfred's daughter.
Oh, how does she ride?
I've no complaint.
Uhtred, why is he here?
I am here, lords, to ask of you your price, for leaving Lunden.
Alfred wishes to negotiate.
I wish to negotiate.
We have only just arrived, why would we want to leave?
You're warriors, you will know that Lunden is impossible to defend,
so let's get this done.
Is that a threat?
Your price?
It sounds like a threat.
I'm asking you to retreat, lords, for a price, for silver.
Flesh is our price.
Your bride, Aethelflaed.
Nonsense.
She has great beauty, a good mind. I am in need of a wife.
I am in need of a hump, we will share her.
- She is my wife. - Aethelred, they're teasing you.
Perhaps we can begin with a cup of ale?
It's a long walk from the river.
A cup of ale it is, Lord Uhtred.
Do you have food, lord?
The bread is stale, but good.
I have been told that you saw the dead man rise.
- I did. - And you heard him speak?
Of a good plan, yes.
Could you guarantee Ragnar?
And all the men he commands?
- Are you with us? - I'm here.
Yes, but are you here for Alfred or yourself... or us?
Ragnar's in the north.
It would take some time for news to reach him,
more time for him to decide.
I guarantee nothing, lord.
- Your prisoners are from where? - They are from Guthrum's arse.
The Earl Guthrum is called Aethelstan now.
Guthrum is a shit stain.
He sends priests to Beamfleot, begging for peace,
begging for warriors to settle and do what?
- Raise sheep? - Many men do, lord.
There are no sheep farmers in Valhalla.
Do you intend to put all the priests on the cross?
It is Sigefrid's game.
I do not understand how it kills a man...
- Slowly, lord. It's a cruel death. - That's what the priest there said.
The priest is right.
The priest looks like a pale bag of bones and dough.
You should let him fight.
The Romans used this square forjust that purpose. Combat.
He would die too easily.
Give him something to fight for -
his freedom.
Why?
I'd rather watch him spill his guts than nailed to a piece of wood.
Where's the fun in that?
Boltan! We need to be entertained!
Are you man enough to kill a priest?
I'm almost ready.
Pointy end forward, is it?
So, when I kill him,
I'm allowed to go free, that is the bargain?
That is the bargain.
Hear that, Boltan? He plans to kill you!
I do. Beware.
I am afraid, lord.
Spare me this trial, I beg you.
Get up, priest.
Finish him!
Now I do not wish to kill this idiot,
as I'm sure his mother loves him.
But do I have your word, as warriors, that I am now a free man?
You have my word, priest.
If all your men fight like this,
Alfred will have no trouble throwing you out of Lunden.
Put down your sword.
Thank you, lord. It was a bit on the heavy side.
Where have you learnt to fight, priest? The monastery?
I'm a Briton, lord.
I was brought up killing Saxons.
Then join us, join me.
Ten years ago...
maybe.
But now, I will fight for my God -
and my freedom, it seems!
If it is acceptable, I will return with the Lord Uhtred.
But not before we've settled on a price.
I hope?
How much... for you to leave Lunden?
I find it disturbing that they will not consider silver.
Why should they?
The longer Wessex is without trade, the greater the worth of Lunden.
You were able to assess their strength?
Your priest, Pyrlig, says they have up to one thousand men, lord.
We can muster three times that number, lord, easily.
Lunden is not a field, it won't be a simple question of numbers.
Of course, it is a question of numbers, it'll be a siege.
The more men that we have, the greater the chance of success.
- Regardless of how many die? - It'll be men climbing ladders,
it can only succeed with numbers and with death.
I will not lose men for the sake of too little thought.
There must be a clear plan.
Then let us hear this clear plan.
We attack one gate with a substantial army,
allowing smaller groups to enter through a second gate, a third gate, even.
- Attacking from land? - Yes, from land.
- Not the river? - No, lord.
The river is worth considering, lord.
It would be counter to their thinking.
There is a gate close to the river?
Yes, lord. It's called Ludd Gate.
Perfect.
Silent oars, the cover of darkness,
the advantage of surprise.
The river runs fast at Ludd Gate,
making it impossible to land men safely.
But if the Lord of Mercia believes that men
sinking to the bottom of the river is an advantage,
then let him attack.
Uhtred, your advice may well be sound, but how am I to trust it?
Lord?
Why do the brothers call you the next "Lord of Mercia"?
They call me the next 'King of Mercia", lord.
Why?
Why do they call you "King"? What has been said, Uhtred?
- What has been agreed? - Nothing has been agreed.
- How am I to trust you?! - Lord, I am weary of this...
YOU are weary of this!?
You say you are sworn, yet you behave like a spy!
You float into Daneland and back again,
you tell half-truths, keep secrets
and you refuse to accept the existence of the one, true God!
You serve your king reluctantly!
But I serve, lord!
I do not know you!
And I can never know you, I...
I do not understand you.
And I will never understand you -
that is a fact, and one of increasing concern.
And on top of this, my enemies now call you "King".
And they called you a weasel, lord.
Neither is true.
Impossible.
We must devise a plan of attack. Uhtred, you will leave us.
You will leave.
Oh, I will be happy to.
Should you need me further, you will find me at the Two Cranes lnn.
Lord, with the greatest respect,
the insolence we have witnessed cannot go unpunished.
With the greatest respect, it is not your business,
- it is the business of Wessex! - Uhtred is to return to Coccham.
Lord, we are on the cusp of war, you will need your best warriors.
Uhtred is to return to Coccham.
Then I will go to the Two Cranes lnn and inform him, personally.
As you wish.
You will return to Mercia and gather men, a thousand -
- Wessex will match it. - Yes, lord.
My exact written instruction shall follow.
I want Sigefrid and Erik out of Lunden and soon.
It will be done, lord.
Thank you, lord.
Steapa.
Lord?
Do you trust the Ealdorman, Uhtred?
With my life, lord.
He believes I drink too much.
And I do, of late.
It's the taste, lord.
It is the effect.
I'm getting old, Uhtred.
I'm getting old, with no son to follow me.
It is as though my time has been wasted.
No, lord.
- Never! - Promise me you won't desert him.
Not yet, at least.
I'm not an oath-breaker.
How can I serve a man who doesn't trust me?!
To whom I have given so much?
All he can see is how I'm different.
All I see in him is his piety.
He's a man I am beginning to despise.
I asked...
and all that came was further doubt.
I am growing Wessex.
I am reaching out for an England, all in the name of God.
Yet I am relying upon the strength of a heathen,
the iron of a pagan.
- It does not fit, lord. - It does not.
What if all this time, it has been the work of the Devil tempting me?
Offering me this warrior,
this seemingly loyal and brave man, who...
piece by small piece, is eating at my soul
and clouding what I believe to be right and wrong.
Lord King...
this is what the Devil would do.
But, I swear, your soul has not diminished.
I would have seen it.
Uhtred will not change, I'm sure,
He'll be heathen till his death.
But nor will you change.
Your faith is one that will grow stronger.
You are God's king, lord.
Yet at my right hand is a pagan.
Do you trust him... wholly?
I do not.
I cannot.
Then be rid of him.
Lord.
In my hand, I have a letter from Alfred of Wessex!
It is the promise of one thousand men!
It is the one thousand men demanded by our lord,
Aethelred of Mercia,
to fight alongside the great fryd of Mercia to help rid Lunden
of the filthy, stinking,
pox-ridden, pig's-arse ugly,
heathen, Danish bastards!
A toast!
To the warriors of Mercia.
Where we go,
Alfred and Wessex shall follow.
And we shall rise!
We shall rise!
To Mercia!
You're eating like a little bird.
Peck, peck, peck.
I have no appetite.
Tomorrow we ride.
I would like you to travel with me.
- To battle? - Part of the way.
Or would you rather not?
No, no, lord, I would like to go.
Then eat.
For strength.
Out.
All of you, out.
You have the palest of skin.
Unblemished.
My touch offends you?
No, it was a surprise, lord,
nothing more than that.
Lord, love should be gentle and kind.
"Gentle and kind," she says.
How is it that you have a knowledge of how love should be?
I do not.
- Am I not the first? - You will not insult me...
And you will not offer me lessons on how to plough a field!
That is not what I was doing.
Who is it that you've been with?
- How many have you been with?! - Lord, please...
Uhtred is one, is he not?
You have no right to speak to me in this way!
Of course, I have a right! You are my wife!
I am Aethelflaed of Wessex!
And you will not treat me like I am a servant girl!
Do not...!
Do not,
never...
raise your shrill voice to me!
You will see a priest and we shall find the truth of this.
This is not love, that is the truth of it.
You will see a priest!
Father Beocca!
I would like to speak with you.
About prayer.
This must go no further.
I fear that I am not the first...
with my wife.
The first, lord?
To lie with her, to bed her.
Oh.
I see.
- But she is the King's daughter. - I need it proven.
Have you asked her, lord, directly?
I need to know the truth of it.
Is there a way to test her word?
Lord, she is Aethelflaed.
Do I go to another priest, Father?
A stranger to my wife?
Lord Aethelred!
Welcome to Coccham!
The jewel of Wessex.
Uhtred is expecting you.
There is a way, lord,
from the holy books.
Then do it.
Uhtred is with the women, lord, helping them prepare food.
Such is the life of a banished warrior.
I have not seen the inside of a pagan hall.
I am surprised at its warmth.
Were you expecting to see heads on poles, lord?
I was, lady.
Excuse my ignorance.
I will excuse you, this one time.
Will Lady Aethelflaed be joining us after prayers, lord?
If she has the will, yes.
She has not travelled well.
Should she be travelling at all to battle?
It was her wish to accompany her husband.
They are newly married, after all.
She will be kept out of harm's way.
Uhtred, has the King written that when the siege of Lunden begins,
I am to be first up the ladder?
It is, after all, something you would do.
You accept that I am in charge, of all men.
It's the King's wish.
- It is. - Oh, dear...
You are with us?
Why would I not be?
I am an Ealdorman of Wessex.
Alfred has decided to give you this one last chance.
Do you have a plan?
Together, we will travel downriver,
meet with the armies of Mercia and Wessex,
make camp a short distance from Lunden.
Do you have a plan of attack?
Yes. It is not too dissimilar from your plan.
You will attack the north gate with your own men.
Once the assault is underway,
I shall attack from the marshes with the main army.
And how will you know my assault is underway?
I will know.
You will know...
Uhtred, do not doubt me,
I want this victory.
Lunden belongs to Mercia
and I am Lord of Mercia.
I will go with every man at my disposal, to reclaim what is mine.
Good.
I am with Uhtred.
No Steapa, you're with me.
I am with Uhtred.
The King says.
Very well.
I am with Steapa,
behind Steapa.
Your bravery knows no beginning, Aethelwold.
A toast!
To the Mercians who died for Wessex at Ethandun.
And to the men of Wessex who will fight for Mercia at Lunden.
To allies.
This is the Word of the Lord.
If a man fears that his wife has been unfaithful...
l have not.
He shall bring her before a priest,
who shall prepare the bitter waters.
A mixture of God's water
and God's earth shall be drunk.
Know this, if thou hast gone aside to another man,
the Lord shall make thy thigh to rot
and thy belly to swell. Amen.
Amen.
Child...
you will now drink...
the bitter waters.
This will not be necessary.
You are pure and may God strike me down
this very instant if you are not.
Does he beat you?
If he does not, then he will.
I can see it.
He is not, er...
tender or loving.
Father Beocca, you must tell the King.
No! You cannot.
The King is the only man who can end it.
God put an end to this ordeal before it had begun.
Not all in Mercia are friends of Wessex.
Not all are happy with the King's influence.
And I must do my duty to Alfred.
My husband will not break me.
You must not tell anyone what has happened here.
You're quiet today, Father Beocca.
- A sleepless night. - Should I speak with Thyra?
- Tell her you need your rest? - You shall do no such thing!
You will not talk of such matters.
And what matters are those, Father?
I've said enough.
You've ALL said ENOUGH!
Lords!
They have set up their camp no more than a mile away.
Then we get this done.
Tofi! The fire must smoke, black smoke!
Yes, lord, there will be smoke.
Every man on his feet!
Up!
We must be ready!
You all know what needs to be done!
We cannot fail!
Go!
We cannot fail!
It's open.
Do you see a guard?
None. I see a trap.
Yes, of course, if it is a trap, we should walk towards it.
Hey! Shush your mouth.
Hey! Inside!
If you want to live, stay inside!
Any idea what's happening?
None.
Shield wall!
Aethelred?
Aethelred!
Uhtred?
We've seen not a single man!
Same!
Then they have fled?
It is our numbers, lord.
They fear our numbers.
Move! Move!
They fear us!
The city is ours!
No! No! No! Keep the formation!
Keep your formation!
Lord!
Fire! Fire!
I see fire up there!
Stand ready! It's a signal!
It's a signal, no doubt, lord.
They will come.
It's a signal that can be seen from a mile or more.
Aethelred! Aethelred!
Move! Move!
Aethelred! The camp!
Thyra...!
Death...
Death is coming.
Death is coming!
Wake up!
WAKE UP!
DEATH IS COMING!
Wake up!
Take up your swords!
WAKE UP!
- DEATH IS COMING! - Aethelflaed is to be protected!
With your lives! For God and for the King!
This way!
Aethelflaed! Aethelflaed!
- Thyra...! - AETHELFLAED!
She's there!
The forest!
Thyra!
This way!
Aethelflaed, let go of my hand!
Run! RUN!
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