Chains and defiance

The air in Kattegat buzzed with tension and excitement. Elyswith stood at the edge of the crowded square, her view of the commotion blocked by a sea of bodies. The sound of cheers, shouts, and angry murmurs melded together into a cacophony she couldn't quite decipher. She craned her neck, desperate to see what was happening. Ragnar and the others had returned from England, but instead of celebration, the energy in the air was volatile.

''What's happening?'' she asked Athelstan, who stood beside her, equally unsure.

Before he could answer, the crowd parted momentarily, and Elyswith caught a glimpse of Ragnar being led away by the guards. Her stomach dropped. Chains clinked around his wrists, and his normally playful smirk was replaced by an expression of quiet resolve.

Her heart raced. 

The crowd swallowed him up again, and the murmurs grew louder, accusations flying in the air like arrows. Elyswith could do nothing but follow the tide of people as they moved toward the Earl's hall.

The great hall was suffocating. Elyswith stood at the back, barely able to see over the shoulders of the men in front of her. She strained to catch a glimpse of Ragnar as he was brought in, chains still binding his hands.

Bjorn, standing closer to the front, turned to his mother in confusion. ''He's in chains,'' he said, his young voice tight with anger.

''It's alright, boy,'' Ragnar answered calmly, his voice carrying across the room. The faintest hint of amusement in his tone, as if this were all a game.

Lagertha stood tall and unyielding, her jaw set in defiance. Elyswith could see the tension in her shoulders and the fire in her eyes.

The Earl rose, his voice cold and commanding as he addressed the crowd. ''Ragnar Lothbrok stands accused of murdering my brother, ...Knut, a man I loved dearly.'' The Earl's voice filled the hall, sharp as a blade. He pointed a finger at Ragnar, his face a mask of anger and grief. ''This is a man who does not believe in our traditions,'' he declared to the gathered crowd. ''This is a man who does not believe in our laws!''

The crowd roared in response, a mixture of outrage and uncertainty rippling through the hall. Elyswith stood frozen, her hands trembling as she clutched the edge of her shawl. She looked to Athelstan, whose face was as pale as hers, his lips moving in a silent prayer.

When the Earl demanded Ragnar speak for himself, the room fell into a heavy silence. All eyes turned to the chained man.

Ragnar, undeterred, stepped forward, his chin held high. ''It is true I killed Knut,'' he began, his voice steady, though the weight of the accusation hung in the air. ''Sadly, your brother.'' His tone softened, almost apologetic, before hardening with conviction. ''But I killed him when I found him trying to rape my wife.''

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Elyswith's breath caught in her throat.

Ragnar turned, addressing the hall as much as he did the Earl. ''I ask all of you, free men—what would you have done if you were in my place? Would you have stood back? Would you have done nothing?'' His piercing gaze swept the room. ''I don't think you would.''

The Earl's servant, a wiry man with a sharp tongue, stepped forward. ''Do you seriously ask us to believe this story?'' he sneered.

Before Ragnar could respond, Lagertha's voice rang out, cutting through the din like an arrow. ''I can confirm the story.''

The Earl's face twisted in disbelief. ''Your husband is lying,'' he snarled. ''And he has persuaded you to lie for him.''

''May Thor strike you dead,'' Lagertha retorted, her voice low and deadly.

The crowd erupted. Elyswith felt a jolt of admiration—and fear—at the fierce woman's words.

''What did you say?'' The Earl's tone darkened, his fury palpable.

Lagertha stepped forward, her shoulders squared, her voice unwavering. ''My husband did not kill Knut Tjodolf. I did. I killed him. I stabbed him in the heart when he tried his best to rape me.''

A collective murmur swept through the hall, but the Earl's servant barked out a laugh. ''A murder is committed, and the only witnesses are a husband and his wife.'' The crowd chuckled uneasily, the tension thick enough to choke on.

The Earl waved his hand dismissively. ''Your word means nothing, Lagertha. Ragnar is the one who killed my brother.''

''We have proof,'' the servant interrupted.

A large man with long brown hair stepped forward, his imposing figure quieting the room. Elyswith's eyes widened as she recognized him—one of Ragnar's trusted warriors. She had seen him often with Ragnar, laughing and jesting. His expression now, however, was grave.

The Earl turned to him, his voice commanding. ''Who killed my brother?''

The man paused, his gaze meeting Ragnar's briefly before he spoke. ''Ragnar Lothbrok killed him,'' he said, his voice steady. The Earl's expression twisted into triumph, but the warrior continued. ''For a good reason. Your half-brother was caught raping a Saxon woman. Then he attempted to rape Ragnar's lawful wife, Lagertha.''

A stunned silence followed his words.

The man's lips curled into a faint smile. ''Unfortunate for you, you cannot punish him. He acted honorably.''

Ragnar, his chains clinking as he moved, grinned broadly, raising his bound hands. ''Now, who has the key?''

The crowd erupted intolaughter, their support for Ragnar growing louder. Elyswith exhaled, her knees weak with relief.

Later, as the crowd dispersed, Elyswith found herself standing near Ragnar. He leaned casually against a post, his chains having been removed, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

''You look as if you've seen a ghost,'' he remarked, his voice low and amused.

Elyswith crossed her arms, still shaken. ''You could have been killed.''

His smile widened, and he stepped closer, his blue eyes gleaming. ''And yet, here I stand.''

Ragnar tilted his head, his gaze dropping to her lips before meeting her eyes again.

Elyswith felt her cheeks flush. She looked away, muttering under her breath. But as she walked past him, she felt his hand brush hers briefly—a fleeting touch that sent a jolt of warmth through her.