Original subtitles

-(GASPING) -UHTRED: I was born an Ealdorman of England.

Uhtred, son of Uhtred of Bebbanburg,

welcome to the Christian world.

UHTRED: True heir to the Northumbrian lands of Bebbanburg.

You have your stone, the amber?

Yes, Father.

Our ancestors took this land

and you will die for it if needed.

UHTRED: I was 12 years old when I first went to war.

LORD UHTRED: Kill them all!

UHTRED: I saw my father killed.

My uncle took my lands and pledged his allegiance to the Danes.

My advice for you is to never cross Ubba

and never, never fight him.

UHTRED: Stolen by the invaders, along with a Saxon girl, Brida,

I became first a slave,

and then a son to Earl Ragnar.

That was my family, my life.

Young Ragnar, my brother, and Brida, my lover.

Fate had made me a Dane.

And then fate brought betrayal.

(SCREAMING)

(SPITS)

UHTRED: I will not stand by and have everything that is mine taken from me.

Bebbanburg is mine!

UHTRED: Destiny is all.

Horses!

(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)

Head for the woods!

(SHOUTING INDISTINCTLY)

Go right, there's a gully over that ridge.

Hoof-marks. There must be hoof-marks.

AELFRIC: There must be hoof-marks! Somewhere!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Fetch more men. I want him found.

We'll go as far as Mercia, if need be,

but I want him found

and I want him dead.

(SOFTLY) He looked like my father.

(SOFTLY) And now he knows you are alive, he'll keep looking for you.

Let him.

I'm going to kill him and take back what's mine.

He has an army. He is the choice of the Danes!

-All you have is me. -No.

We have Ubba.

We go to him with our story.

With his army, we avenge Ragnar's death

and we take back Bebbanburg!

(SCOFFS) It's that simple.

Yes. (GRUNTS)

Yes. (CLUCKS TONGUE)

UHTRED: Brida.

Brida.

Sing me a song.

I won't. I'm not your skald.

True. And what's more, you'd frighten the birds.

What?

There's a taste in the air.

Death.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(CLUCKS TONGUE)

(ARROW WHOOSHES BY)

(PANTING)

(UNSHEATHES KNIFE)

(ARROW WHOOSHES BY)

(PANTING)

(GRUNTS)

(BREATHING SHALLOWLY)

Who did this? Who sacked the village?

ARCHER: (WITH DIFFICULTY) I cannot move.

Your back is broken.

(BONES CRACKING)

(ARCHER GROANING)

-Who did it? -You know who did this.

Danes did this.

Why?

I don't believe you. Why should the Danes attack a village that feeds them?

Revenge.

But since when have Danes needed an excuse to kill?

BRIDA: Revenge? Revenge for what?

Hmm?

Revenge for what? And I'll end it.

An uprising north of here.

A Saxon slave, he killed his master at a wedding party.

(ARCHER WHIMPERING)

What was the name of this slave?

-Hmm? -You speak English well, for a Dane.

His name!

(GROANS)

Uhtred.

ARCHER: End it.

(ARCHER STRUGGLING TO SPEAK)

(ARCHER SCREAMS)

-Say it. -BRIDA: Say what?

What you're thinking.

I'm thinking that you have a turd where there's supposed to be a mind.

(LAUGHS) Thank you.

We should never have gone to Bebbanburg.

We should have let them believe that you were dead!

No, you're wrong.

I want them to know that I'm alive.

I need them to know I'm alive because they hold what's mine.

I feel better for it.

Yeah?

So does a dog pissing on a tree.

You wish me to bark?

What we needed to do was to ride south to the chieftain Ubba

and tell the story of Ragnar's death.

We'll do it now.

Now there is a second story

about some slave who killed his master.

Ubba knows that Ragnar was my father.

He knows nothing! I doubt he'll even remember you!

He will believe the story that he hears first,

and he will kill you.

If you could write, then you could write to him.

If he could read. (LAUGHS)

You've left us no choice.

We must find Ubba

and hope he believes you.

(CHURCH BELL RINGING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

Thank you.

FATHER: Father Beocca.

Father.

Segwall.

I'll see you in the King's Hall.

My Lord?

My Lord Alfred, it is I, Father Beocca.

My Lord, the King has called council.

ALFRED: Do not look at me, Father.

I am a sinner. I am a grievous sinner.

-We are all sinners, My Lord. -I am married.

I should never have married.

He sends temptation to test us.

And when we fail, he sends the Danes to punish us

-for that failure. -I should never have married,

I should have joined the church.

I should of gone to a monastery.

And God would have found a great servant in you,

but I feel he has other plans.

If your brother were to die,

it would be to you that people would turn.

Oh, pray God he does not die.

What kind of a king would I be?

You will be God's king, My Lord.

You have been blessed and chosen by the Holy Father in Rome.

You will be God's king.

I have seen the girl who torments you. She is...

-She must be banished. -No, I believe the opposite.

-She should be brought into your service. -No.

-No, I could not. I could not. -You will resist her.

You will let him see your strength.

You will thank Him for tempting you

and then praise Him for resisting the temptation.

Notwithstanding...

I have news you may wish to take to council.

-What news? -Of an English uprising, Lord, in the north.

It was defeated,

but the nobleman responsible was Uhtred of Bebbanburg.

I know him.

He was taken by the Danes as a child.

(STAMMERING) A God-fearing child.

Clearly, his heart remains English.

He lives?

I believe so.

He's a warrior, Lord. They say he killed his Danish master

and forty men.

He knows their ways, he speaks their language...

He would be useful, would he not?

You could mention him in council.

Why would he kill his master?

For blood, for money, for pleasure?

For England, Lord.

Yes, but, how do we know?

He may well be just one more pagan with a busy sword.

-Ah, but I know him, Lord. -No, Father Beocca.

You knew him, once.

You knew him as a child.

I could send word out into the country...

Father, look, he's a ghost. He's a pagan rumour.

Should he become flesh and blood, then he may merit a mention.

However, my faith, I reserve for God alone.

Now, about this girl. You may be right about her.

Bring her into my personal service

and pray for me.

As always, My Lord.

AETHELRED: Alfred.

King Edmund of East Anglia writes a plea to Wessex for an army.

"An attack by the Danish chieftain, Earl Ubba, is inevitable."

This was two days ago.

A long march to fight the Danes at a place of their choosing,

is not a strategy worth considering.

To say the least, My Lord.

-I'm of a mind to decline. -And rightly!

Ubba. He is...

The Dane whom King Edmund has fed and watered in the past?

-He is. -Perhaps in the hope that he would simply

pass through East Anglia on his way to invading Wessex.

It is my opinion that Edmund deserves nothing but silence.

Too harsh, Young Odda.

I believe it was Edmund's hope to convert the Danes

from pagan to Christian, beginning with charity.

For that, he deserves praise, surely.

You are true, My Lord, if indeed that was his hope.

Edmund is a godly man.

We have no reason to mistake his actions for cowardice.

Regardless of Edmund's intentions,

barring a miracle, East Anglia will soon fall to the Danes.

And he shall have all our prayers for such a miracle, My Lord.

He will need them.

He will not, however, have one man of Wessex,

on that we are agreed?

-Yes, Lord. -Aye.

Then we must therefore recognise that we now stand alone.

The last kingdom of England.

It will soon be the men of Wessex

staring across a field at the pagan army.

We must be ready. We must pray, we must prepare.

Odda, I require that Mercia, Lundene and East Anglia

be watched. Carefully.

-Forward knowledge is everything. -It is done, My Lord.

And scribe, I require the forges of every town and village

to be burning, night and day.

We shall need all the iron those fires can proffer.

SCRIBE: Yes, My Lord.

Most of all, I require men.

Strong, fighting men

who are prepared to die, because that, in the end,

is what it will take to save us.

The blood of men.

Ravn used to say, "Never fight Ubba."

UHTRED: Looks like East Anglia's just made that mistake.

We should stay away for now.

Build our own fire.

BRIDA: Ubba is unpredictable.

He takes his orders from the gods.

UHTRED: I know. He only listens to a sorcerer.

And he's half mad.

How will you approach him?

As a man.

It has to be done.

Yes, it has to be done.

But we need to guard your life.

How?

I don't know.

We should hump tonight.

We should, it's written.

That we should hump?

Our destiny is to hump.

-Tonight. -(LAUGHS)

I'm enjoying the thought of it.

That's all you'll enjoy tonight.

(UHTRED CHUCKLES)

(PANTING)

Stop. Stop. Stop!

What? What is it?

(BREATHLESSLY) I think I have it.

We take a hostage.

A shield, a guarantee for your life.

Who?

I don't know.

Someone he cannot do without.

Storri! His sorcerer.

(INDISTINCT SHRIEKING AND SHOUTING)

MAN: Who is this woman?

Why is she not on her back?

Well, not that it's your concern, but she's for Storri.

Saxon whore, from Ubba.

I've seen you before.

I served Earl Ragnar and now I serve Ubba.

-(WOMAN SCREAMS) -MAN: Quiet, woman!

You'll see me again, I'm sure...

Boy. (LAUGHS)

I'm told Storri's at the church?

He's up at the monastery looking after King Edmund.

And killing his priests!

(COUGHING)

(MAN GROANING)

-(STABBING) -(GROANING STOPS)

(SIGHS)

Hello?

Leave or it will be the death of you.

This church is mine by the order of Ubba.

Master Storri, I have a gift for you.

-Really? -She's from Earl Ubba.

A woman?

Why would Ubba send me a woman? I have no need for a woman.

She's a sorceress. He wishes her dead but is afraid of a curse.

Saggy tits, stinking breath, but...

You will be rewarded her head's weight in silver.

A sorceress?

She has the face of a she-wolf. Does she bite?

-Yes, she bites. -(BRIDA GRUNTS)

Leave her with me.

I will do as Ubba asks and she will die. Slowly.

(SHOUTS IN PAIN)

You belong to me now, old man.

And you will die slowly unless you do as I say.

BRIDA: On your feet.

We're going for a walk, and you will keep your mouth shut.

(DRAWING SHALLOW BREATH)

-This is so foolish. -Shh, shh.

Ubba will come look for me.

And he will be here soon.

I said be quiet.

Then I'll wait for him here. I'll wait for Ubba here.

That means it's just you and me.

(DOORS OPENING)

(WARRIORS STRIDING PAST)

UBBA: Where is Storri? He's supposed to be here.

Edmund?

Edmund?

(IN MOCK WHISPER) Edmund?

Edm... (LAUGHS)

Can we have some ale?

Miserable King Edmund of East Anglia.

You have had a night to consider my offer. How do you answer?

(SNICKERING)

Are you dead or breathing still?

With luck, he's dead. We allow far too many of them to live as it is.

You allow nothing.

He lives.

It's God who decides who lives.

I would say your God has left you hanging, sir.

EDMUND: If He has done so, it's because it is His will.

Take him down! And do not to let him fall.

And ale! And for Earl Guthrum.

I don't understand. We do this all time, we allow half of them to live.

I say kill them all. All but the young women.

UBBA: And who should work the fields?

GUTHRUM: The old women, the pregnant women.

UBBA: Put him there.

-And give the man some ale! -Earl Ubba?

If I may speak freely?

I know you.

I am Uhtred Ragnarson.

I'm here with the truth of how my father died.

Yes, you are Ragnar's slave and you killed him!

I don't know what stories you've heard,

but Earl Ragnar was killed by his own, by Danes.

(SPITS)

His former ship's master, Kjartan, and his half-blind son, Sven.

They led the attack on a sleeping wedding party.

Can't you see that we are entertaining a king?

Lord Ubba, I am telling you that Earl Ragnar was killed by Danes!

You be quiet, boy!

-And you will wait. -Kill him.

UBBA: Not another word.

Bar the doors, he does not leave. Guthrum is right.

We are entertaining a king, so no more interruptions.

I just have to know. Who is that? Hmm?

His eyes are watching me.

And me.

(STAMMERING) Who's what? Who?

The other half-naked image here.

UBBA: Who is it?

(EXHALES)

That is Saint Sebastian,

a former Roman soldier who found God.

GUTHRUM: Found him where?

He...

He found him in his heart, not...

Do you wish me to tell you his story?

I have time.

EDMUND: The Emperor of Rome, on discovering that Sebastian had found God,

ordered him to renounce his faith. He refused.

So, then the Emperor ordered that he be filled full of arrows.

And yet, he lived.

-He lived? -Yes, he did.

Is this true?

Of course, it's true.

God saved Saint Sebastian

and God should be praised for that mercy.

For how long did he live?

(DRAWS DEEP BREATH)

Well, sadly he...

He then ordered him to be, uh, clubbed to death.

So, he died?

He went to heaven, so he lived.

I heard mention of this "heaven".

Ah, what is this "heaven"?

Heaven is Valhalla, Lord, to the Christians,

but without the fighting, feasting and humping.

Heaven is heaven! It's not heathen.

But to answer your very first question,

I have considered your offer,

and yes, I will continue to rule East Anglia, as you suggest.

EDMUND: I will suffer your presence.

I will provide you with horses, food, coin and hostages.

I will do all that you demand.

EDMUND: But...

Only if you, Lord Ubba,

and all of your men

submit to God.

That is my demand.

You must be baptised.

You must stand in a barrel of water,

and they pour more water over you.

-They want to wash me? -No. (SCOFFS)

Your scent upsets them, Ubba.

No, to cleanse you of your sins.

There is only one God, and I demand that you serve him.

Kill him now!

-Why must I serve him? -Because God is great.

All powerful. All magnificent.

Have him stop his yapping and prove it!

Ah, agreed.

Prove to me your God is great. Prove it.

Prove? (STAMMERING) Look! Here!

God spared Saint Sebastian.

-But the man still died. -Because it was God's will!

So would your God protect you from my arrows?

If he was all powerful, he would.

Yes! If it was God's will, he would, yes!

UBBA: So let us try.

We shall shoot arrows at you, and if you survive...

(CHUCKLES)

We will all be washed.

Including Guthrum here.

Why not?

Very well.

I will continue to be King,

but we will dispense with the need for the baptisms.

The, uh... The washing.

I withdraw my request.

But you claim your God is all powerful.

I want it proven.

-Uh... -Strip him.

Archers.

GUTHRUM: Wait!

Tell me truthfully.

Are you afraid?

God is great.

We will see.

Shoot.

-Shoot! -Ah, ah, ah...

They are my men and only I tell them when to shoot.

(EXHALES)

-Shoot. -(GASPS)

(GASPING FOR BREATH)

Do you now wish to be clubbed,

or will the arrows be sufficient?

(STOPS BREATHING)

You've come a long way, boy, to tell me

that it was Danes, and not you, that killed Ragnar.

It was Kjartan and Sven, Lord. And others.

It's the truth. Why else would I be here?

To spy.

-To lie. -No, Lord.

(UBBA LAUGHS)

-Perhaps to kill me? -No, Lord.

Have you been washed?

Odin is my God.

GUTHRUM: But have you been washed?

Yes, Lord.

How did it feel?

The washing?

Cold, Lord. The water was cold.

GUTHRUM: Nothing else?

I was a child, Lord. Now I am a Dane.

Yeah, a Dane...

So, now, let us see

if Odin will protect you from the arrows.

I like this game.

-Strip him. -Keep away from me.

(GRUNTING)

Not another step!

-Archers at the ready. -I have a hostage!

-UBBA: What? -I have Storri.

Stop!

If I die, he dies.

If I die, your sorcerer dies and you're without his guidance.

He lies, I can smell it.

UHTRED: I have proof.

His runes.

Storri will be returned to you safely.

Take his head from his shoulders!

Guthrum be quiet!

Have them open the doors.

I will release Storri when I am clear of this place.

UBBA: You go nowhere!

Then he dies! Your sorcerer dies!

Have them open the doors.

(DOORS OPENING)

One day, I will kill you.

Storri will tell you otherwise.

And I'm telling you the truth about Ragnar.

This is what happens when we allow too many of them to live.

(YELLING)

Excellent. Firewood.

You're alive.

That's good.

Did he hear you?

He did not. Not a word.

What did he say?

-That he'll kill me. -Nothing else?

Where's Storri?

What did he say?

-He's naked. -It was necessary.

He has a branch up his arse.

Which is why he is naked.

Uhtred.

(STORRI CRIES OUT)

Uhtred.

He must have said something.

He believes the lie.

He believes that I killed Ragnar.

(MUFFLED SCREAMING)

There's nothing more to do.

(EXHALING)

We should put distance between us and this place.

And go where?

Anywhere that's not here.

I say we go to Young Ragnar.

He's in Ireland.

-Then we go to Ireland. -How?

In what? We sail in what?

And with whom? Danes?

Then we wait for him to return.

What if he doesn't return, what then?

Accept it. We're lost.

-We're alive and breathing for a reason. -Brida.

We are no longer Danes.

How much for your work?

For a long sword?

Tell me what you need and I'll tell you a price.

A warrior's sword to last a lifetime.

What are you?

Saxon or Dane?

Northumbria.

It will take some time to make her right,

which means she'll be expensive.

If she's right, I'll pay in silver.

How much?

Ten pieces. Half now.

(LAUGHS) Six, no more.

Eight, and I'll make her my finest.

Eight. And if she's not your finest, you'll be her first.

Hmm.

I want this stone set into the handle.

That can be done.

Don't sell it nor lose it.

Ale, My Lord?

-You stand too close, girl. -ALFRED: Yes, just a little.

To take away the taste of the gruel.

You stand too close.

It is broth, not gruel.

Is it?

(LAUGHS) Well, I think it is.

You should be thanking God for its goodness

and the banishment of those awful cramps.

I am happy to eat as you eat.

Ah, well, you are saintly, my dear.

Father Beocca, join us for breakfast. I dare you.

Alas, My Lord, I've already eaten.

Ah, you're fortunate.

Bad news, Lord. Uh, your nephew, Aethelwold.

AELSWITH: Isn't it always?

He's drunk, he's sleeping in the palace gardens.

Should I take him to the king?

It's the second time this week.

May God strike him down, painfully.

(SNORING)

(GRUNTING)

-What? What? -On your feet, boy.

Wait! Wait, wait, wait...

BEOCCA: Come on. King wants to see you.

Drunk!

What, again?

You think this is fit?

Out, all of you. Leave us.

Do you think this is fit?

I have been mistreated.

(STAMMERING) You saw this for yourself.

I demand that this... This bear is punished.

Aethelwold, your years do not hide the fact that you are a disappointment.

May I ask why?

That you need to ask tells your father all he needs to know.

-What? -That you are an unsuitable heir,

that is what.

Then I will change.

-You should! -I will.

Look, all I ask is that you become a man, and quickly.

Today.

Today. I promise.

Am I excused?

My Lords.

I'm not convinced he is my son.

If his mother were not already dead, I'd have her beheaded for adultery.

(ODDA LAUGHING)

If I'm to fall in the battles that will come,

he cannot be king.

-You favour Alfred? -I do.

Even though he is often... Weak in body?

Well, that his illness does not tie him to his bed

shows the strength of my brother.

Alfred is my heir.

He knows it.

And when the time comes, Odda, my friend,

you must steer the Witan to make this choice.

My Lord.

It's done.

Should be safe for now. They say Danes rarely come here.

What did Storri say to you to make you bind his mouth and, uh...

He threw a curse.

Saying what?

It's not important.

I responded with the branch.

What are you doing?

You know what I'm doing.

I'm removing the last of his curse with a kiss.

I don't want to.

If you want to go to the Danes, then go. Find a new lord.

It's me they wish to kill.

You sound like a child.

I'm offering you a choice.

You're talking through your arse.

I'm sitting on my arse.

So, your arse is cleverer than you, it can do two things at once.

(CHUCKLING) Thank you.

Your tongue is sharp, woman.

(LAUGHS)

-Show me again. -No.

You're right.

We can't go to Young Ragnar.

But we should wait for him to find us.

Which he will.

He will want to know the truth.

In the time between, we stay alive.

We pass the time.

Doing what?

(EXCLAIMS)

(LAUGHING)

WOMAN: Hey! Hey, watch out! Get off!

(LAUGHING)

(SIZZLING)

(GIRL GIGGLING)

(GIGGLING)

(BRIDA LAUGHING)

I've given her some beauty.

But she is a tool, no more, no less.

She is exactly as I'd hoped.

-We said ten? -We said eight.

She's worth ten...

-Thank you. -Thank you.

Lord, men have been asking of you.

And your woman.

Danes or Saxon?

Take your pick. Five or more.

Make her sing.

Brida, we should leave. There are men looking for us.

-From Ubba? -I don't know.

Saxons and Danes are looking for us.

We seem to be collecting enemies as we go.

Get to the horses. Go, go, go!

-Out of the way! Out of the way! -MAN: Hey!

(SCREAMS)

(SWORD UNSHEATHES)

(GRUNTING)

(ASSASSIN SHOUTS IN PAIN)

(KNIFE UNSHEATHES)

(SCREAMS)

(GRUNTING)

(SHOUTING IN PAIN)

Brida, the horses are just there.

Wait, there's another! We have to go, come!

(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)

Brida, the door!

(SWORD UNSHEATHES)

(WHISPERING) Wait.

Wait, wait...

BRIDA: Now!

(BODY THUDDING)

(PANTING)

You're right. We should leave.

BRIDA: Whoever it was that sent them, Ubba or your uncle,

they won't rest.

There'll be others.

(SIGHS) I can't go home without help.

Uhtred, you should forget Bebbanburg.

No.

No, I won't vanish.

Nothing changes.

Kjartan and my uncle will pay for Ragnar's death,

and I will have those lands.

BRIDA: How? With whose help?

You said yourself we only have Ubba...

The English.

If we're dead to the Danes, we have no choice.

There is no England! The Danes have England.

No, there is one place, south of here.

It's Wessex.

They'll take one look at you and kill you as a Dane.

Whereas Ubba will kill me as an Englishman.

With King Aethelred, we have a chance of everything.

What do you say?

Come with me?

Why do they stare?

They think you're pretty.

Huh.

Or, they've never seen a Dane so close.

But they will.

(TOWNSPEOPLE JEERING)

(JEERS CONTINUING OUTSIDE)

(TOWNSPEOPLE BOOING)

We have business with the king, Aethelred.

TOWNSPERSON: Go home!

I say, we have business with the king.

Do you not understand English?

Is that what you're speaking, arseling? You sound like a Dane.

Why do you dress as a warrior when you're clearly a farmer?

Farmer, am I?

Well, I'd wager this farmer against you at any time.

We're here to see the king, peaceably.

Uhtred, what are you doing?

-What is it farmer, first blood or to the death? -Uhtred!

I'll be splitting your skull, boy, so one follows the other.

(CROWD SHOUTING ENCOURAGEMENT)

Uhtred?

(CLAMOUR DYING DOWN)

Father Beocca!

-(LAUGHING) -My goodness.

You know this arseling, Father?

-BEOCCA: I do! Yes, I do. -(UHTRED LAUGHING)

Uhtred, you're... You're fully grown.

And you're old! (LAUGHS)

I am.

Oh, you're a man.

LEOFRIC: He claims business with the king.

Yes. Yes, that's true.

But not with the king, it must be with Alfred.

You vouch for him?

I vouch for him, yes, I will vouch for him.

God has sent you, surely.

You're a man.

Father, this is Brida, my greatest friend.

A woman.

UHTRED: Yes.

I am.

I have tits.

I see.

Have their horses fed and watered.

And I'll inform Alfred that you're here with me, both.

We need their weapons, Father.

Why not inform the king?

The king is busy...

But you will like Alfred. He's an impressive man.

Come.

(CHURCH BELL RINGING)

Do you like it?

I do.

It's beautiful.

You could rest here, it's so quiet.

ALFRED: Peaceful.

The Romans, they built this courtyard for just that purpose. Tranquillity.

You're Alfred?

I am.

My Lord.

You are Uhtred.

I hear word you are a considerable warrior.

(LAUGHS)

Not been tested Lord, not yet.

And I've been lucky.

Well, luck is good.

Or so my own warriors say.

Now, I haven't quite worked out the theology of luck.

Can there be luck if God disposes?

Well, if your God's with you, then you're a lucky man.

Yes. You're right.

Simply put, but you are right.

With me. We shall talk inside, briefly.

ALFRED: I spend much of my time in here.

Do you read, Uhtred?

Schooled as a child by Father Beocca, I was not a good student.

There's much to know outside of letters.

Oh, I am certain there is.

But do not underestimate the power of the written word.

When a man dies, if nothing is written, he is soon forgotten.

For instance, who is remembering Earl Ragnar?

You know of Ragnar?

(CHUCKLES)

Father Beocca has talked much about you, Uhtred.

He believed you a prisoner.

A slave to Earl Ragnar. Is that the case?

Ragnar was a father to me.

I loved him.

Yet in Eoferwic, they are saying that you killed him.

They lie.

Kajartan. "Kajartan", is that how you pronounce it?

-Kjartan? -Kjartan...

Has benefitted most from Ragnar's death.

He has taken his place and is Earl Kjartan now. A great lord, with ships.

That's written down?

Whatever I discover about my enemies is written down.

It is in Kjartan's interest to kill you, is it not?

He would not want Ragnar's son to hear a different tale.

He would not wish him to hear the truth, no.

ALFRED: No.

And the chieftain Ubba,

although he himself has now travelled north,

he has sent men to Mercia, asking of your whereabouts.

But not your welfare, I surmise?

How do you come by all of this?

I have eyes and ears in each of the kingdoms.

One day,

it is my hope that all kingdoms will become one,

united under one God.

One king?

If all men can agree, yes.

All that remains of England is Wessex.

The birth of an England,

the idea of a single kingdom

called England

has to begin here.

There is nowhere else.

But for how long will Wessex remain?

The fate of Wessex will be determined by Englishmen, all Englishmen.

Only by joining together and saving Wessex can we have England.

Only by saving Wessex can we have a...

A Northumbria.

A Bebbanburg.

And if Wessex can't be saved?

Then we are all no more.

(CHURCH BELL RINGING)

Prayers.

(INHALES SHARPLY)

(BREATHING SHAKILY)

And a little discomfort...

(EXHALES)

I will summarise.

The Danes are gathering a great army.

They have, in fact, gathered an army.

They gather where?

They have moved upriver from Lundene to Readingum.

They are settling as we speak.

But you said Ubba is in the north, so who leads them?

The earl Guthrum leads them.

I know Guthrum.

We will need every advantage,

and Father Beocca considers you, Uhtred of Bebbanburg,

to be an advantage.

Whereas I believe you're here solely to hide,

to save yourself.

I look at you and I see a Dane.

I see Uhtred of Nowhere, who cares for no one, but himself.

Now, I must go to prayers. You will join me?

If My Lord will excuse me?

BRIDA: Us both.

Of course.

I expected as much.

Father Beocca.

BEOCCA: Lord?

Take your guests for refreshments.

I will, My Lord.

They may remain in Winchester, but I hold you responsible.

Yes, Lord.

You should have gone along and prayed with him, it would have bonded you.

He believes we are pagans.

What Alfred believes is that the Danes have abandoned you.

Ubba has abandoned us. There are other lords.

(SCOFFS) Most, if not all, follow Ubba,

so believe me, girl, you have been abandoned!

Yeah, you know everything about the Danes, don't you?

This way. I want to show you something.

The Charters of Bebbanburg.

Yeah, the land books, yeah.

You kept them safe.

I have shown them to Alfred. He...

He knows you are the Ealdorman by right.

I will continue to keep them safe. But, Uhtred, you...

You must behave like an Ealdorman.

The charters have no meaning. Northumbria belongs to the Danes.

BEOCCA: It does not belong to the Danes, it has been stolen by them.

BRIDA: If you want wealth, you take it! You can't ignore what's true.

If the Danes are at Readingum, I'll go to Readingum.

-What? -For what purpose?

UHTRED: Knowledge.

BEOCCA: But we have knowledge, and you should stay away from the Danes.

For new knowledge.

You know where they're settling, but you don't know why.

BEOCCA: We know their number and their position.

Not their intention. Am I a prisoner?

Their intention is to attack.

When?

Spring. It's always spring.

I'll go to Readingum. Where is it?

-BEOCCA: It's too dangerous. -Not for me.

I'm a godless Dane, remember?

BRIDA: So, why spy for Alfred?

Because he is an Ealdorman of England.

(DOOR OPENING)

-BEOCCA: Lord. -(DOOR CLOSING)

Regarding the conversion of the pagans to Christianity.

Yes, Lord?

How do we decide what is proper?

To enlighten them or to kill them?

(EXHALES)

Spreading God's word is, of course, our mission,

but I fear that the pagans, the true pagans,

must first witness and feel His power.

Uhtred, uh, will return?

Yes, he will return.

Yes, but how will he return? As who? As what?

-I know this boy. -Ah, no, this boy is now a man.

I know his soul.

Father Beocca, he has no soul.

And you say yourself, the pagans need to feel the power of God.

It is written now, here.

You may leave me.

We shall see what the days bring, My Lord.

If resting through the winter was their intention,

they would have remained in Lundene, yes?

It's you who's Alfred's spy.

The next step is to kill for him.

-Will you do that? -Answer me this.

If we were to cross this river and find Guthrum, what would happen?

He'd kill us both.

We owe them nothing.

Alfred needs to know about the Danes, and I need to win his trust!

You think he'll deliver you Bebbanburg. What if you're wrong?

(FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

Alfred, you have called council. For what reason?

Lord, forgive me, it may well be for no good reason,

but we have a pagan in court who claims to have knowledge, regarding the Dane army.

Pagan?

Forgive me, Lord, he is Uhtred of Bebbanburg. I vouch for his word.

Uhtred!

Lord.

I've been to Readingum.

I have watched the Danes. Their intention is not to settle.

If it were, they would've remained in Lundene.

You are saying what, that they intend to attack?

I am, Lord.

We already know this. Come spring, they'll be at our door.

They'll be marching within days, Lord, I'm sure of it.

How can you possibly be sure of it? The ground is sodden all around,

-it makes no sense. -They made their sacrifices.

The ordinary warriors, they've caught and killed birds, jackdaws.

This is only done in the days before battle.

And they are hungry.

Then perhaps they have eaten these jackdaws.

They've many hundreds of men and horses, and few supplies.

They'll first seize a town rich with grain and livestock.

I do not know the country well, but I have travelled.

I believe Abbendum is such a place.

To defeat the Danes, you must meet them on the road to Abbendum.

It will be within days, Lord.

ALFRED: You went to Readingum alone?

With Brida.

Why alone?

Why not?

Well, because for most of your life, you have lived as a Dane.

You look like a Dane, you can speak the language of a Dane,

therefore, I surmise you can set a trap like a Dane.

Agreed, My Lord. He imagines we are jackdaws.

AETHELRED: Where on the road to Abbendum?

Where would you choose to meet their army?

I would choose the place called Asec's Hill, Lord.

You would choose or Guthrum would choose?

I've seen it. The pass narrows, you cannot be outflanked.

For the Danes to fight uphill, it will be difficult,

but they'll be confident. They don't fear West Saxons.

Why? Why do they not fear us?

They believe you to be farmers, nothing more.

So, even with the sun in their eyes, which is possible,

they will climb the hill to fight, and that can be to our advantage.

YOUNG ODDA: "To our advantage", he says.

You've been here for a matter of days,

and already you claim to be of Wessex.

This is nonsense. This is all far too convenient, My Lord.

-I, for one, cannot... -My Lord, my sword was made by a Saxon smith.

My sword is for Wessex.

-Do not interrupt a noble when he is speaking. -AETHELRED: Odda.

-I believe this man and this bag of rags to be imposters. -Odda...

No army marches as winter approaches, never.

Young Odda, enough from you now!

My Lord.

You.

You've spoken and given this council much to discuss.

My Lord.

Alfred, he's here at your invitation. What now?

Should the Danes march, we must face them...

And I would rather be at the top of a hill than on the flat.

I say we march to Asec's Hill.

But...

Take him.

Take them both, make them secure.

-My Lord? -What is this?

(GRUNTING)

I've spoken the truth!

-I've spoken the truth! -Please!

UHTRED: Father Beocca! BEOCCA: My Lord, please.

Beocca, help me! Beocca!

Have faith!

(BRIDA STRUGGLING)

(PRIEST RECITING LATIN PRAYER)

-(PRAYER CONTINUES) -AETHELRED: Hold!

Hold!

(PRAYER ENDS)

-AETHELRED: Left flank, hold! Hold! -(SOLDIERS CLAMOURING)

Archers ready!

(RAUCOUS CHEERING)

AETHELRED: On my command!

For God,

for Wessex,

for England!