The march toward the capital resumed before the blood on their weapons had even dried.
Smoke still rose in thick plumes behind them where the battlefield burned, blotting out the pale sky while Ragnar's army pushed onward through the snow-covered roads.
The fight against the queen's forces had shaken the men deeply. They had witnessed shadows tear soldiers apart. They had watched corpses rise from the dead beneath Circe's command. And they had seen fire descend from the heavens itself.
Now they followed Ragnar with something far more than a mere sense of duty.
They followed him with deep loyalty and an unwavering belief that he would make a better king.
