Vikings

Previously on Vikings...

You fought well today.

But, you did not stay by my side.

Don't do that, Porunn. You have much to learn.

I want you to cut off my arm. It's killing me.

Please tell Earl Ingstad how much I admire her and that she is always

welcome at my hearth.

Forgive me, Father, I have dreamed of lying naked

beside a man who is not my husband.

It was you.

Burgred! Wait and I will see that you come to no harm!

Survive first, love afterwards.

Come now, or it's too late.

- Where are they? - On the top of that hill.

They're drawing us away from our boats.

I dreamed of a stranger.

In one hand, he carried a ball of flaming snow.

His other hand was covered in bright blood.

We have all dreamed the same dream.

Can you help me?

This... stranger approached me in the marketplace.

He's cut his hand badly, and has asked for our help.

Of course we will help.

Siggy, go and fetch some hot water.

Go with the servants.

Helga, go and get some strips of cloth for a bandage.

Will you sit by the fire?

Thank you.

You are kind.

- How did you do this? - I don't know.

I was sleeping rough, and...

might have caught it on a scythe or a plowshare.

What is your name?

Um, my name is Harbard.

You said you were sleeping rough.

Why is that?

I will sleep wherever I can lay my head.

I am a wanderer,

and sometimes

people offer me hospitality and I sleep on a straw bed,

and sometimes I...

sleep rough with the cattle for warmth.

It is all one to me.

Is that true?

No.

No, I prefer the straw.

But do not think that I offer nothing in return, hmm?

I tell stories.

Stories about my own travels.

Stories about the gods.

Or both.

Hmm?

As they say, I... I sing for my supper.

Will you sup with us?

If that is acceptable with everyone.

And to King Ragnar, of course.

Ragnar is not here. He and the men have gone raiding.

But you are welcome to what food we have,

and to a bed of straw.

You are talking behind my back!

Please do me the honor of talking to my face.

We meant no disrespect, sire, but wondered why,

if you're prepared to share our farming secrets with the pagans,

you do not, in return, ask them to share their boat-building secrets with us?

And why is it, since we give them land to farm,

we do not ask them to convert to the only true God?

Yes, I understand your concerns,

but as things stand, the Northmen,

in the shape of Ragnar Lothbrok,

are currently fighting beside us

to help us gain the throne of Mercia,

that huge kingdom,

for our puppet, Princess Kwenthrith.

Now, who among you would choose not to turf a few farmers off our land,

rather than gain, through this alliance,

a greater part of England itself?

And besides,

who knows how this settlement will fare in the future?

Speak now.

Tell me I've chosen the wrong policy.

That for some reason I am not thinking of our kingdom and its destiny.

Tell me now, if you dare,

that I do not deserve to be King of Wessex.

Why are we doing this, Ragnar?

Why are we fighting for these Christians?

Doing King Ecbert's dirty work for him.

This is not about you, Floki.

It's about our children, and their children.

It is about our people's future.

And I do not want there to be endless conflict

between us and the Christians.

You're mad, Ragnar. Deluded.

There can be no reconciliation between our gods,

the true gods, and the god that they worship.

One or the other must prevail.

And the triumph of the Christ-God will mean the death and destruction

of all of ours.

If you don't want to fight...

then don't fight.

Both of you, save your breath.

We have a mountain to climb.

Some of us will not see a dawn like this again.

Not here on Midgard, at any rate.

So let us try and speak well of each other.

And remember how much we have been through together.

Well said, brother.

Are you finished?

Please.

Spare my brother.

Rollo! Rollo!

You poor bastard.

I'll see you later.

If the gods allow.

They will not allow it. Take me with you.

I must fight.

You cannot fight. You are too weak.

What are you talking about?

As you can see, you bastard,

I am perfectly able to fight.

Never been better.

Then what are you waiting for?

So you speak our language now?

I speak more than before.

I am gratified and pleased.

As I'm sure King Ragnar will be pleased, also.

I've brought some of my nobles

to show them the progress you are making here.

Our people, as much as yours,

will benefit from a good harvest.

And to help you prepare it, I've brought you something.

It's a new type of plow.

It does not just scratch the surface of the earth,

but it digs deeper, and because of the angle of the blade,

it turns the soil over.

Now, we've made some experiments,

and when manure is also dug into the ripped and open earth,

the crop, and the harvest, increase.

- You will leave us this plow? - Yes.

See how you get on.

I like to experiment between our cultures.

Plowing, fertilizing, and...

sowing seed are the very basis of life.

Indeed they are.

Well, give this plow to your settlers.

Let them see if it works.

Or not.

You and Athelstan are invited back to my villa,

whenever you choose to come.

For now, I bid you farewell.

I can't see anyone.

They're up there.

Wait!

I will go first.

Thank you.

What is this?

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Porunn!

Porunn.

Porunn!

Protect the Prince! Gather round!

Loose!

Raise your shields!

Advance!

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Hold your formation!

Pull! Loose!

It is ended!

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What is this place?

It's a Roman bathhouse.

Who is this woman?

She's a goddess. A Roman god.

A pagan god.

Like your gods, Lagertha.

She is not like my gods.

My gods...

are as real as you and me.

They laugh. They bleed.

They rush around the skies.

Hmm.

I want to tell you of the time that I went to Utgard.

I traveled east until I came to that band of water

that divides the world of men from Jotunheim.

I... walked for many miles without seeing a soul.

But then, finally...

I reached a huge hall.

Large amounts of giants,

they were all lounging on benches.

One giant, who I took to be the king,

he asked me if I had any skill.

And what did you tell him?