Ragnar is no god, yet all the gods watch him.
They are all here the gods of Ragnars fathers, the God of Athelstan, gods as yet unknown.
In Paris, Princess Gisla prays to a statue of the Virgin and Mary weeps.
Credit: Jonathan Hession/History
In faraway Kattegat, the Seer moans with ecstatic sorrow for all is as he said it would be.
The princess has crowned the bear.
In the end, even the greatest warriors are defeated.
The victors write history, but no one is victorious forever.
Long ago, Ragnar Lothbrok took a single ship across the sea to a land called England.
That raid defied the command of the local earl.
For allies, Ragnar had close friends, true warriors.
Most of those men are dead.
One of them his own brother, Rollo has betrayed him, twice.
This new betrayal has brought them here, to the middle of the river.
Ragnars ships sail into Rollos ships.
The men of Frankia fight well, but they are not Northmen.
The Vikings hack at them, slaughter seeping into water gone red with viscera.
Made rancid with illness from Yidus medicine, he watches his brother.
His brothers lieutenant begs a retreat behind the walls of Paris.
Rollo grants him a final retreat, running his sword through the mans chest.
All of my life and all of your lives have come to this point, says Duke Rollo.
To be here now is the only thing that matters.
So gather all your strength and all your sweetness into an iron ball.
And the battle is joined.
They meet on a curious battlefield, a barge floating in the middle of the water.
Ragnar scoffs at this man who was once his brother: at his Frankish hair, his Frankish armor.
They wage war as only brothers and enemies can: sword and blade, fist and bone.
Ragnars son sees them fight.
So, too, Lagertha: doubly beloved by both of them, betrayed by them both.
But Lagertha is laid low, stabbed in her shoulder.
Bjorn races to her aid always he chooses his mother, always.
One of us will die today, Ragnar told Rollo.
Thus does Duke Rollo return to Paris, to waiting wife and child yet unborn.
Thus does Emperor Charles crown him Caesar, to the joy of the common people.
Years ago, a young warrior named Rollo agreed to baptism as a joke.
Now here he is, a changed man, declaring fealty to a God his father never knew.
His wife cries with joy.
It is the greatest moment of his life.
On a boat somewhere downriver, the Vikings are silent.
King Harald holds his brother, dead.
Lagertha lies unconscious, bleeding.
Bjorn sits quiet, pondering, or perhaps lacking the strength to think.
NEXT: Time passes
Bjorn Ironside goes fishing.
The waters of Kattegat are serene, the light falling gracefully on green hills under blue sky.
It is spring, maybe, or maybe summer.
Bjorn is older, his beard grown long.
Queen Aslaug calls for him.
Aslaug hears all this, a smile on her face.
Perhaps she suspected it.
The man asks where King Ragnar has gone.
Aslaug smiles at that, too.
Ragnar disappeared years ago after Paris.
He is a ghost in his own kingdom.
Did Ragnar know about the end of his colony?
Did he keep it a secret from his village?
Bjorn goes into the wilderness to find his half-brothers.
Ubbe and Hvitserk, Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye and Ivar Boneless.
The older sons cant quite believe it.
Could their father lie to his people?
Wouldnt they have been so righteously angry?
That, says Ivar, is why he didnt tell them.
It was a waste of time.
Ragnar wanted to sail to Paris.
He wanted to be famous.
Isnt that more important?
These are bruised young men, still almost boys.
They cannot understand why their father left.
Ubbe doesnt want his father to come back.
Hvitserk and Sigurd hope they see Ragnar so they can kill him themselves.
That is the end of it.
You all sound like a bunch of Christians.
There is hate in Ivars heart.
He specifies that he doesnt love his father, merely admires him.
He thinks his brothers are soft.
Ubbe is Ragnars son: His fame doesnt interest me.
What he used his power for that interests me.
That is the sort of curious, thoughtful thing Ragnar used to say.
But Ivar always belonged to Aslaug; perhaps he is a truer Viking than any Lothbrok.
I dont think he is ever going to come back, says Bjorn.
I think what happened in Paris finally broke him.
Bjorn reminds his younger brothers that their father was a man, not a god.
A man with many failings.
Despite all his failings, says Bjorn, Hes still the greatest man in the world to me.
Bjorn sees his father clearly perhaps because Ragnar was barely more than a child when Bjorn was born.
And so Bjorn has prepared his own celebration of his fathers legacy.
He shall sail to the Mediterranean, to parts unknown, in ships unbuilt.
He visits Floki, his fathers old friend.
Floki and Helga promise to join him.
They are older but not dead.
They are brutal people here in the North.
But they are also full of hope.
And then there is Ragnar.
Ragnar Lothbrok, the king come home.
Ragnars beard is long, his head bare, old scars carved deep into old skin.
He walks to the towns center and looks upon his sons.
The youngest one crawls to his feet.
Sigurd and Hvitserk, you swore to kill your father.
Perhaps you, Ubbe?
Or you, Ivar?
Is there a woman or man in Kattegat who can drive a sword through Ragnars body?
Whos going to do it then?
Whos going to kill me?
Put him out of his misery.
His people do not support him.
His family is gone, gone, gone.
What kind of king abandons his people?
asks a king to his people.
What kind of father abandons his sons?
asks a father to his sons.
Who wants to be king?
Who will take his place now?
Who wants to be king?
A question, left unanswered.
A ship, not yet sailed.
