All language subtitles for The.Last.Kingdom.S01E05.HDTV.x264-FLEET

My name is
Uhtred, son of Uhtred.

I was born a Saxon,

but stolen and
raised as a Dane.

Now I find myself
bound to King Alfred

and bound by marriage
to Wessex.

I have a Christian wife,
whom I care for...

...And a
child I have never seen.

I have land
burdened with debt...

It is a substantial amount, Lord.

Alfred could remove the debt,

but he has chosen not to.

...and a sly servant
I cannot trust.

And though I miss
the ways of the Danes

and their hunger for
life and for battle...

Never cross Ubba, and
never, never fight him.

...fate has stirred my
Saxon heart for a reason.

Ubba and his army
have returned from Ireland.

- And my fleet is where?
- They left Lundene several days ago

and are nearly here, Lord.

Destiny is all.

- Synced and corrected by skoad -
www.addic7ed.com

Lord! Lord! When will you need assistance?!

Mildrith!

- Odda?
- Mildrith, thank God.

- What are you doing here?
- You must come with me.

The peace is over. We are under siege.

- Since when?
- You must gather all you need and quickly.

The Danes could be here at any time.

I cannot go with you.

Yes, you can. You must.

- If the peace is over, then what of Uhtred?
- Mildrith,

the Danes have broken the truce.

We have killed all the
hostages given to us,

and they will have done the same.

If Uhtred has survived, it
can only be as a traitor,

a Dane. No.

Regardless,

it is no longer safe for you here.

You must come with me.

Mildrith, I beg you, for
the sake of your child.

Do not worry about us, lady!

We'll get ourselves and
the livestock to the hills!

Get yourself clear of this place!

Anything of value, I will bury!

Don't just pull at the
bugger. You'll have it torn.

Find out what holds it.

How much for your horse?

He's not for sale.

I'll give you twice its worth.

In silver.

- Have any washed up alive?
- Not on my beach.

God's taken hundreds of the bastards.

Though it's said hundreds
more have landed safely

further up the shore.

Friends of yours?

You should take
your families to safety.

Ertwit.

He has your look... definitely.

Little ertwit. Little ertwit.

Well, let's hope he does not
develop my constitution, hmm?

They are here.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

- Odda? Wulfhere?
- Lord. Lord.

Difficult times, which
we will face head-on.

They never rest.

Do we march as one, Lord,

- or are we to split?
- We are split.

You both shall ride

towards the Severn river to face Ubba.

I shall ride south to face Guthrum.

Should we not all be
marching to the Severn, Lord?

If the first battle is won,

then the Danes may not care for a second.

Wulfhere, even in victory,
we can never be sure

of our surviving numbers.

Some of Guthrum's ships
will have made it to shore,

and I cannot let him
simply walk through Wessex.

He must be faced.

Odda, should either of us have luck

and defeat our enemy quickly,

- we will march to the other's aid.
- Yes, Lord. Of course.

Prepare.

My God, girl. You're a
lovely field to plough.

A lovely field to plough.

Oh, better than barley.

Better than barley.

By God, girl! Better than barley!

Yeah!

- Yeah! Better than barley!
- Lord!

Lord! Forgive me, Lord.

It's never happened before.

I swear it'll never happen again.

- It was the girl's idea.
- It was not.

- Where's my wife?
- It was not my idea at...

- where is my wife and child?
- Lord, wait. Wait, Lord!

She's with Lord Odda, the younger.

- Odda?
- Yes, Lord.

He took the lady and your son.

She went willingly, Lord,
to protect the child.

- My son?
- Yes, Lord. You have a son.

Handsome little man he is.

Looks like his father.

I should really take your
balls for this desecration.

- Yes, lor... no, Lord, please.
- I don't care for you, your wife,

your children, nor your whore.

Lord, he made me do it
with the promise of a coin.

It was false promise, Lord. I have no coin.

I'll need a fresh horse, food, and drink.

Yes, Lord. Your horse was returned.

It's in the stable.

My house is not your house.

No, Lord. Beg your pardon, Lord.

My land is not your land.

Treat me as a fool
again, and I'll kill you.

Yes, Lord.

I'll enjoy it.

I believe you would.

Leave me.

We outnumber them, I feel.

We outnumber them

if you count the farm boys and women, Lord.

- You fear them, Leofric?
- I do not, though some do.

It is not about fear. It's about strategy.

We hold the high ground.
They must come to us.

And if they decide to wait, Lord?

- Why would they?
- Because we are sat isolated

on this high ground.

- And supplies are low.
- They don't know that!

We bide our time, hold our position.

With luck, Alfred will see off Guthrum

and provide us with reinforcements.

For now, we stay put.

Lord.

They are gathering, and they are watching.

They have the high ground,

but I do not want to wait.

So when do I attack?

I'll cast the runes.

Storri, I will need a clear answer.

I will get one.

I have your answer, Lord.

Look.

This is us at the base of their hill.

They sit on top.

But that's not an advantage.

This is a feather from their camp.

Bone dry and faded.

Water runs down the hill, not up.

You have your wish, Lord.

An early attack is good.

They're weak.

They will surrender or die.

And then we move into the heart of Wessex.

Shield wall!

Advance!

One! Two!

- Horseman approaching!
- Halt!

Go and fetch Lord Odda.

The elder!

It is Uhtred.

- How could he have lived?
- We will ask.

Ealderman Uhtred.

We feared you had been killed.

That you were not is a miracle

or something less godly.

- Where is she?!
- What? What?

Where's my wife and child?!

- She... she's safe!
- You brought her here?

- She's safe, did you not hear him?
- She's safe.

- I took her to safety, nothing more.
- Mildrith is with my own wife

on my land in my house,

where she has lived happily in the past!

Put away your dagger!

Swear that you haven't laid a hand on her.

- I will do no such thing.
- Swear!

Lord?

You will take your blade away from my Lord,

and you will do it now.

Arseling!

You have my word

that neither Mildrith nor
your son have been harmed.

I swear. Do as I ask.

- Treason, but what can we expect?
- Enough, this infighting and argument!

Disperse, all of you! Now!

Your wife remains my goddaughter.

You should be thanking my
son, not threatening him.

Now, you come to me when
your thinking is clear,

and you explain to me

why you are still
breathing and stupid!

You are back from the dead and unchanged.

All you had to do was
get down from your horse

and ask, "have you seen my wife?"

That would have been
the better choice, yes.

Then young Odda wouldn't have shit himself.

- You've seen her? She's well?
- Yes, she's well.

The child, however.

- Sickly?
- Ugly.

- Like his father.
- Worse.

- With the smallest of pebbles for a penis.
- Like his father.

If you wish to see him
for yourself, arseling,

I say you leave the way you came.

I'm serious.

We are stuck on this hill.
And here, we will die.

- What does Odda say?
- Odda is a decent man, but as a warrior,

he has all the guile and menace of a sheep.

We have
the ground, the slope.

I will not surrender that advantage.

But if food is scarce, Lord,

- how long can we wait?
- We shall find food.

We have food for how many days?

- Two, three, four?
- Enough time for Alfred to arrive.

You yourself have reported

that the storms have taken
most of Guthrum's ships.

- But not all.
- But enough, perhaps.

- So we wait, hmm?
- Agreed. For a time.

We give Alfred as much time as possible.

I will offer negotiations.

While these negotiations are taking place,

we will send out hunting
parties... several.

Alfred will come.

I'll attend these negotiations with Ubba.

You have not been invited.

It's my right.

If the other hostages were killed,

- how did he survive?
- He was taken as a child by the Danes,

and he survived.

We would do well to follow him.

Follow him?

Or listen to what he has
to say, Lord, is what I meant.

Lord Ubba.

May I present the Lord Odda of Wessex.

There never seems

to be a meeting that you do not attend.

- Is there more than one of you?
- Lord Ubba

is Alfred's most trusted general.

I don't give a shit who he is.

All he needs to do is to surrender.

There will be no surrender.

- What will there be?
- There will be no surrender.

Though I do invite you
to return to your ships.

Guthrum may have broken the peace,

but there's no need
for Ubba to do likewise.

We will not be returning to our ships.

And I shall not be moving from this hill.

You have no business in Wessex.

My business is to kill you.

You may try.

Guthrum's fleet is gone.

Njord reached out from the deep

and dragged Guthrum's
fleet down to the seabed.

You're lying.

I watched the fleet die

and its men go under.

- Storri, what do you say?
- Lord, I do not see for Guthrum.

I see for you.

Storri is a man who has a stick up his ass.

- He didn't see that coming, either.
- No, that's... that's a lie.

It's all lies. Look at his eyes.

You are next to die, Ubba.

- And I know it. I cast the runes.
- That's an even bigger lie!

Earl Ragnar the Fearless is with the gods,

and they're angry at you.

You allow his death to go unpunished.

Avenging Earl Ragnar is not my business!

That's for his son.

- You're next to die, Ubba.
- Then fight me!

And you'll see who is next to die.

- Fight me!
- Lord, we're negotiating.

You will not say another word.

- He will not say another word.
- He will not, no. Best not.

I will not say another word.

Talking is over.

You piece of weasel shit.

Storri.

Storri!

What now, huh?

- Where are we left standing, in shit?
- Now we have time.

How? If it's possible, you've made
them want to kill us even more.

We should attack.

My men are good men.

Though half of them are
armed only with reaping hooks,

they're here.

Reaping hooks can kill.

- How well do you know Ubba?
- I've known Ubba since I was 11 years old.

He's the greatest warrior I've ever seen.

But he's cautious.

He listens to the gods always.

I goaded him only to make him doubt.

It will take a little while
for the doubt to clear.

You have your time,

but I say again, we should attack.

We attack, we'll be outflanked.

My men will die... all of them.

I know each of them.

I'd hoped this hill

and Alfred might save them... us.

What if we were able to outflank the Danes?

- How?
- We burn their ships.

Even if it's just three or four,
they'd be running to the fire.

- Then we attack.
- They'll be disorganized.

No shield wall.

We could be killing them
before they know we're there.

- Who would set the fires?
- I will.

Alone.

But I'll need your word
that you will attack

as soon as the fires have taken hold.

You have it.

If we succeed, Lord,
you'll have saved Wessex.

If he succeeds, fires the ships,

it will undoubtedly cause
panic amongst the Danes.

Which is the aim.

How best do we use that panic?

Is an attack likely to be successful?

Would it not be better to escape this hill?

We could return to Winchester

without the loss of a single man.

Excepting Uhtred.

Father.

If what Uhtred says
about the storm is true,

and Guthrum's fleet is all but destroyed,

we would join forces with Alfred.

We may well meet him on the road.

Then we are all against Ubba.

As a strategy, it makes sense.

I gave him my word.

He will die,

and you can call him a hero.

The others are here.

You must decide what you will tell them.

I have called for you to
tell you to read your men,

all men, everyone.

We shall be moving soon.

- Moving, Lord?
- Ealderman Uhtred has volunteered himself

to distract the Danes.

He will endeavor to set
alight a number of their ships.

- He has gone?
- Yes.

- Alone?
- Yes.

If he should succeed in causing
this distraction, we will move.

- In which direction, Lord?
- Ready your men. Tell them nothing.

Lord Odda, with respect,

- you told us nothing.
- I've told you to ready your men.

- Ready for battle?
- Ready your men, each of you.

Go.

Prepare.

I see nothing on the river.

- It will soon be first light.
- Can you not speak?

Very well.

Ships afire!

Ships afire!

- What's going on?
- Fetch buckets and barrels!

Lord Odda, we are ready. But to do what?

He's done it.

Look. He's fired the ships.

We attack!

Lord? Lord, you awake?

- Lord?
- What?

- The ships have been fired.
- Oh!

- It's him. I know it.
- Yes.

You saw them dying on the hill.

- Did you not see a fire?
- I told you.

I can only see what the runes allow.

- How many ships burn?
- I don't know. Many.

They are planning something. They must be.

Lord?

There.

That's him.

You! Uhtred ragnarson!

You!

Are you afraid of me?

Man on man!

I will make the square!

Will you fight me?!

Are you the son of Ragnar the Fearless?

Or are you a coward?!

I will fight you, Ubba,
if that's what you want,

but you will die.

Fetch him a shield.

You're half-naked, Lord.
You might catch chill.

This will not take long.

Was it you... the fires?

Must have been the gods.

They're angry with you.

First blood or to the death?

Get up. Get up!

You Saxon!

Go to Valhalla, Lord.

Shield wall!

Now kill the bastards!

Bind them tightly.

If any object, march them into the river!

Get this inside your belly, arseling.

God knows you deserve it.

Mm.

Lord Odda is hurt.

Badly.

He kept his word.

He would.

He's a good man.

A good ealderman.

I want Ubba buried with his axe.

His axe is gone.

Young Odda wants him cut into pieces.

No, that can't happen.

He would have done the
same to him. He is Ubba...

as close as the Danes
will ever come to a King.

I'll see he's buried.

You... you have a task ahead.

You go directly to Alfred,
and you kneel at his feet

and tell the bastard you have saved Wessex.

No, I'll go to Mildrith.

If you don't do it, some other bugger will.

And there will be reward.

Men have seen it. They
know what I have done.

Let them tell Alfred.

I need to see my son.

You're a turd.

Lord.

I want to thank you for not abandoning me.

I know that would
have been a choice...

a reasonable choice.

I'll go to your estate now
to see Mildrith and my son.

You served Alfred well today.

Thank you, Lord.

Who's there?!

Forgive me.

You looked too beautiful to disturb.

You may disturb me... Immediately.

Uhtred, son of Uhtred.

Who is the son of another
Uhtred and another.

He has a kingdom to inherit.

I'll see that it happens.

Tomorrow or the day after, we go home,

and then to Winchester.

The three of us. Yes.

Oh.

I'll go to Alfred, and
he will fall at my feet.

- He will?
- He will.

What?

He'll free us of our
debt, at the very least.

And we will build a great
hall and hold a feast.

I'd like that.

And I'd like Uhtred to
be baptized in Winchester.

Father Beocca could perform the ceremony.

He'd be pleased.

Uhtred, it's what I want.

God is good, Uhtred.

He kept you safe.

He brought you home to me.

My sword kept me safe.

They've not yet gone to battle.

This is good.

I alone will speak.

Alfred is to hear one clear message.

- How is the mood in the camp?
- It's good, Lord.

The men are well.

- Afraid?
- No, no more than usual.

I...

I worry that I do not inspire them,

that they do not see me as a warrior.

Lord...

Lord, it is Odda.

What is this?

Young Odda.

- You have news. Where is your father?
- He was wounded in battle.

A great battle at Cynuit, Lord.

But I have a gift for you.

Ubba is dead.

His army is defeated.

- This is... this is true?
- It is, Lord, two days ago.

Praise God. Praise him.

Well, then, Wessex is saved.

It is for a time.

Guthrum will have no choice
now but to make peace.

While your father recovers,
you will stand in his place.

His lands will be your hands and more.

Wessex is saved.

Everybody's walking to the palace.

A celebration.

Must be. A celebration of prayers.

Stop that!

I believe you did this.

The great hall is now full!

There is no more room!

Please, the King thanks you all for coming,

- but you need to pray here outside.
- Father Beocca!

- The palace is full!
- Father Beocca!

There will be ale and food available

- for everyone...
- Father!

Uhtred?

- You are here before me now?
- I am, and with my child.

- Oh, God be praised, you are alive.
- Of course, I'm alive.

- Why shouldn't I be alive?
- You were at Werham, a hostage.

- We thought you were dead.
- No, father, I was at Cynuit.

I fought at Cynuit.

Did they not say?

I'll see Alfred now.

- What is it?
- Nothing

I'm sure that cannot
be resolved given time.

Uhtred!

- I'll see Alfred.
- No, Uhtred, Alfred is at peace!

Uhtred, please!

Uhtred!

Uhtred, your sword!

Forgive me, but I am told
that you believe me dead?

Uhtred, this is not the time.

Father Beocca here believed me dead,

and yet, just days ago, I
was at Cynuit with Lord Odda.

It was Lord Odda and I who
devised our battle plan.

- Did the boy not say?
- Uhtred, stop now.

Perhaps you'd like to speak now.

Odda, you will say nothing.

Perhaps you'd like to
describe Ubba's death.

Lord, I would like to
invite the ealderman here

to join us in giving thanks and prayer.

Giving thanks? For what?

For victory? For the death of the pagan?

- Who do you think killed the pagan?
- I cannot save you.

I fought Ubba, man on
man, and I killed him!

It was his axe against my sword!

This sword!

- Is there any man here who will deny it?
- Be still.

Everyone, be still, and be silent.

I have heard enough.

You have said enough. This is not seemly.

Now sheath your sword,

- and remember where you stand.
Lord, what I'm saying to you...

you have broken my peace.

You have broken the peace of Christ,

and you have brought
weapons into a sacred place.

- Lord, I'm telling you the truth.
- You will go directly to the courtyard,

and you will wait for me to pass judgment!

Judgment? For what?

- I've done nothing wrong.
- You will be quiet!

We will...

We will continue with a moment of silence

to help find the peace once more.

This interruption cannot
be allowed to go unpunished.

It must be death.

Peace be with you, my dear.

Why are you unable to reason,

- to show patience?
- All I expect is justice.

- But it comes to those who have faith.
- Now is not the time to talk of faith.

Now is precisely the time.

Now is when it's needed.

I'll have none of it.

You're too ready with anger.

There's a bad spirit within
you that needs to be exorcised.

You should look to God.

I'll pray for you.

- Humility is what you need.
- What I need, woman, is justice!

Ohh!

- You sober?
- Delicate.

You are to grovel.

- What, again?
- With me.

All I did was abscond from a monastery.

Ealderman Wulfhere.

You know this wretch, I believe.

We've met.

The King has sent me to punish you

along with Aethelwold here.

What his wife would like

is for me to pull your guts
through your smelly ass.

Aelswith is forever inventive.

Lady, you are to go to
Aelswith for comfort.

She waits in the chapel.

Do you know what the punishment is

- for drawing your sword before the King?
- A fine.

- Payable to the church, no doubt.
- Death.

But Alfred is feeling merciful.

You will not dangle... not today.

He wants your assurance
you will keep the peace.

- What peace?
- His peace, you fool.

It does not matter a gnat's
dick that you killed Ubba.

What matters is that Odda the younger

has claimed the credit.

Should his father die from his wounds,

Odda becomes one of the
richest men in Wessex,

and men will want to praise his bravery.

My bravery.

Not a gnat's dick.

The sun now shines from
Odda the younger's arsehole,

and it is blinding.

Do you understand me?

Good.

You are to do penance.

- I'm to do what?
- Grovel.

You are to dress like a girl,

go on your knees, and be humiliated.

I won't grovel.

Then Aelswith gets her wish,

and I'll pull your guts through your arse.

Which will it be?

On your knees.

Now you will crawl all
the way to the palace

where you will kiss the cross

and lie flat down on your face.

- And then what?
- God and the King will forgive you.

Go.

Go!

I will lead.

But you owe me.

- What?
- Oh!

Oh, Lord, I am a sinner!

- Do not look at me!
- You are!

I am a sinner, Lord,

as big a sinner as you will ever see!

I have known women, Lord,

- lots and lots of women!
- Lucky bugger.

Women of all sizes.

The big tits, small tits.

I have squeezed and kissed them all.

I have rested my head

on the bosoms of beautiful,
but bad, bad women, Lord.

Forgive me!

I have lost count

of the number of women I have had,

but I know it is exactly half

the number of tits I have caressed.

Oh, God, I love tits!

Send me an angel, Lord!

So you can hump her?!

A... a titless angel to guide me!

No more servant girls
in my bedchamber, Lord.

Please.

I beg you.

You must lay flat, kiss the cross.

Kiss my arse.

You and your God.

Uhtred.

- Uhtred, stop!
- We're leaving this place.

We can't.

We're leaving. Collect your belongings.

It'll be dark soon,
and there's the baptism.

It's important.

My son will not be baptized.

No priest will whisper lies
and deceit into his ears

- and half-drown him in water.
- Stop it. Stop it. You're just angry!

- He will be a pagan, like his father!
- Shh!

- Why are you saying this?
- We'll stay tonight, no longer.

I'll find you in the morning.

- Where are you going?
- Drinking and whoring.

I love tits!

And we appreciate the
finer points of the tit.

The smaller tits, the manageable tit,

the pert, eager, delighted tit.

The soft, enveloping tit,

the tit that makes you feel at home.

How are your knees?

I can't laugh about it.

There's no justice here. Only the church.

You knew that.

I hear you're young Odda's man now.

I'm passed from father to
son, yes, like the land.

I can't stay in Wessex.

You have a wife,

a child you could not wait to see.

Where would you go?

Odda is afraid that you will kill him.

Tell him I might.

Tell him each night before he goes to bed.

I need to find wealth,

but here, it's impossible.

The Danes, they would see it and take it.

Then that is what we do.

We become Danes, and we plunder.

Men will follow you.

Those men we have schooled,
others who were at Cynuit,

they will follow you.

- You're saying that we raid?
- We find wealth, and we take it.

- Here in Wessex?
- No.

You do not shit at your own table.

Cornwalum.

We take it from the Britons.

Do not say yes.

Not yet. Think.

I'll do the same.

But why should Odda be rewarded and not us?

Lord.

Welcome.

I was not expecting you home so soon.

- Did the baptism go well?
- That's a fine tree.

- Good day, lady.
- A miserable day.

- Where was it felled, this tree?
- On the top Ridge, Lord.

- On my land?
- Yes, Lord.

I'm taking it to Wigulf's
mill for splitting.

- He buys it?
- He splits it, Lord.

We need... we need timber for repairs.

- He takes his payments in split wood.
- We need timber,

- why not split it ourselves?
- Wigulf's always done it, Lord.

So if I go to Wigulf, he'll tell me

how many such trees he has split,

and you'll show me the timber?

How much is a tree like this worth?

- 8, 9 shillings?
- I'm not certain, Lord.

- How much does he pay you for my timber?
- Lord, it is one tree.

- How much does he pay you?
- Lady, please.

How much does he pay you for my timber?

- Uhtred, no!
- You be quiet!

Uhtred!

Uhtred!

That was justice.

- Synced and corrected by skoad -
www.addic7ed.com