All language subtitles for The.Last.Kingdom.S03E03

I am Uhtred, son of Uhtred.

My Gisela has died in childbirth,
killed by our newborn son.

The King's health, it worsens.

King Alfred
has little time left to him

and his enemies are swarming,
intent on power.

What I want
is your disloyalty towards Alfred.

But his heir, Edward,
is not ready to succeed.

Threatening the King
and now banished from Wessex,

I have fled back to my true family...

I am a Dane for life.

...making traitors of my men
loyal to Wessex.

I did not come here
to talk of war against Alfred.

I have stolen a seer, Skade,
from the Danish warrior, Earl Sigurd.

She was my prize,
but she holds me under her spell.

The world is in crisis,
and Alfred's daughter, the Lady of Mercia,

- is threatened by her own husband.
- I want her dead.

It would be of great comfort
to know that I could call upon you again.

Destiny is all.

You cannot escape who you are, arseling.

Blood and bone, you are Bebbanburg.

Lord.

What is it, Osferth?

Forgive me, Lord, I have not said.

I loved her, Lady Gisela.

I mean, not as you loved her, but...

She was always kind to me, Lord.

Always.

I'll pray for her soul,
if that's acceptable.

It is, Osferth. Thank you.

You have made him a traitor.

He's made his choice...

and I have made mine.

You made no choice.

If you had not killed the monk,
you would still be Alfred's oathman.

Then I'm glad I killed the monk.

I am Dane.

- Have you finished your food, Lady?
- I have. Thank you.

Reading in candlelight
will cost you your eyes.

There is a thegn requesting to fell
three large trees from my land

to help build a new hall.

You grant him three trees, Lady,

and he invites you to share food
with him and his wife.

Then he'll wield you...

...telling everyone
that you and him are the best of friends.

Unless he's paying you handsomely,
your trees deserve better.

Lady, do not make a sound.
I mean you no harm.

It is Aldhelm.
No one can know why I've come.

I'll say what needs to be said
and then I'll leave. I swear.

I will take my hand away.

By all means, hold it,
but I beg you do not use it.

Then speak.
Make it quick and make it plain. Speak.

Lady, you must leave. For your
own safety, you must leave Mercia.

- Tell me why I must leave.
- Your husband wants to kill you.

He wants you killed,
and blame rogues for it.

- He would never...
- It's true. Why else would I say it?

- To have me leave voluntarily?
- No.

Have me killed here,
then it could be rogues.

Lady, no.

Why else would you tell me?
You have never been a friend.

You are my husband's hound.

All of which is true.
To say otherwise would be a lie.

And it is not the time for lies.

I am here because I am a Mercian.

And 'cause I believe
that we would be a poorer land

without the Lady of Mercia.

You have a suitor's tongue.

I cannot believe you, and I will not.

You have no reason to,

but I swear on my life and to God,
it is true.

If I run and then return,
my father by my side?

Again, I beg you, do not.

Mercia needs Wessex.
Alliances must not alter.

And Wessex too is changing.
Your father weakens,

and Uhtred, he has fled north a traitor.

No, that is a lie. He would never.
Uhtred would never break an oath.

What else would have him dare
to kill you? One has followed the other.

I am here for Mercia.

Believe me, I speak the truth.

Then you have betrayed my husband.

Only you and I know about this.

I shall remain at his side.

He is of Mercia
and he is no coward on the battlefield,

but he is not the king
I hoped he would become.

Nor the husband you deserve.

I shall leave now, quietly,

and you must do the same,

for the sake of the land we both love.

Lord Aldhelm... you have my thanks.

Lady.

Forgive me, Godric, for dragging you
and your men from your beds.

We are headed to the nunnery at Wincelcumb
for a short period of prayer, that is all.

For your father?

Yes.

Though I shall ensure
there is ale and good food.

Nothing more you wish to tell us?

There is not.

Thank you.

Sable, the letters. You know what to do.

I do, Lady.

God will be with you.

See no one but Father Beocca.

Yes, Lady.

You have the will of a queen.

My entire life as king
shall be recorded within this chronicle.

On my table
is a list of possible wives for Edward.

I would like your opinion.

Yes, of course, Lord,
though I am no expert.

These are the names
of ealdormen and thegns, Lord.

Does each man have a daughter?

I don't know. That's for you to establish.

The thegns are all of Cent and Wiltunscir.
The bride must be of the lower lands.

We must undo the damage
done by Edward and his...

errant behavior.

Behavior that is to be expected

- from a young man, Lord.
- Wessex...

Wessex must remain united.

Is My Lord feeling unwell?

My Lord must part company
with the little he had for his breakfast.

You will excuse me.

I will attend to the matter
of suitors, of brides, Lady.

It is not the daughter
we are choosing, Father Beocca.

It is her father and his standing.

You will choose Aethelhelm.
Lord Aethelhelm.

He is an ealdorman of Wiltunscir.

His purse is full,
his fyrd numbers one thousand men or more,

and fortunately, his daughter
is both fair and in good health.

- The King will approve.
- He will?

Send for Aethelhelm.

Visit him if you must,
but do not dwell on the matter.

Beocca. Father Beocca.

Forgive the intrusion.
Um, I need to unburden.

- It is Edward.
- What of him?

Well, he claims to be married already.

Married by whom?

Who carried out this ceremony?

It was a priest.

I suspect your son
is playing a game, Lord.

It's no game.

Lord, I could not ignore
what he has disclosed.

I am married to Ecgwynn.

I can only suggest
that we ask the girl directly.

You cannot do that.
She is gentle and delicate.

Neither of which prevented you

from jumping upon her
at the first opportunity.

You either give me the name of the priest

or I send for your delicate whore.
Which will it be?

I will say nothing more.

Edward, you will do as your king commands.

Or you will have me killed?

You will hold your tongue.

And remember that you are the aetheling.

- And what if I do not wish to become king?
- It is your duty!

Bishop Erkenwald, you will escort
the future king of Wessex

to the nearest monastery

where he shall pray every hour of the day

- and night...
- I wish to remain at the palace.

...until God makes him realize

that being king is not a pastime,
not a choice, but a duty.

Your wife will be dealt with.

You shall never dare put at risk
all that I have achieved.

News, Lord.

- Lord.
- Well?

The house was empty. No persons there.

The Lady Aethelflaed is gone.

There is not so much as a servant
or... or a guard, Lord.

She must have been forewarned...

by you.

Lord, you cannot simply
execute your subjects as you please.

This is the ninth century.

She has gone where?

It is too late to ask him.

Are you laughing at me?

I am not, Lord.

But maybe it's for the best
that Aethelflaed lives.

The best for whom?

When Alfred eventually decides to depart,

we must be made welcome in Winchester.

- Otherwise...
- You'll find out where she is

and ensure she is dispatched.

You should leave her in her peace, Lord.
That is my advice.

Find her and give her circumstance
and whereabouts to the Danes, any Dane.

Yes, Lord.

Why are you not dead yet?

You, finish him.

You are done for, my friend.

As we may all be done for.

We are divided, it seems.

We are two people...

it seems.

Over here, we have the ugly...

...the unwashed...

the shit-smelling...

the pig-humping...

- frog-licking...
- Frog-licking?

...the Rome-worshipping...

ugly, frog-licking Saxons!

That is who we are!

But we do not lick frogs.

They face, in a battle of strength...

the pretty...

- ...the sweet-smelling...
- Whoo-hoo!

- ...the light-of-foot...
- Apple-cheeked!

...the apple-cheeked,

golden-haired boys of Denmark and beyond!

Ragnar, you are a skald, not a warrior.

I have the gift, I really do.

Now, you may take the rope.

Come on, let's do this! Come on.

Look at him, he loves it.

- Are you prepared?
- He'd play games every day if he could.

Is there spit in your hands?

Good earth beneath your feet?

Come on! Get on with it, Ragnar.

Let's do this!

Pull!

Saxons! Pull!

Pull! Pull!

- Are you a Dane? Pull!
- Yes!

You never tire of this game.

If only all wars were fought this way!

Pull, you bastards!

Ragnar, son of the fearless,
is the victor!

He brings 20 men on their arse
while drinking ale!

You are life itself.

Ragnar!

We're playing games, can't you see that?

Ragnar, it is the watchman.

The gate, open it.

Ragnar?

My watchmen do not return for no reason.

- What is it?
- Men and horses, Lord.

- Warriors.
- How many?

Forty or fifty. I don't recognize them.

Spears and arrows to the walls

till we know who they are,
what they want.

- Hold your aims.
- Finan.

Bar the gate.

He is here.

He is here and I will refuse him.

They are Danes.

- Hmm.
- Yes.

Definitely.

I recognize one of them. Two of them.

It is Haesten and Bloodhair.

The Earl Sigurd?

Neither are fond of me.

For what reason, I wonder.

Earl Ragnar, I am Haesten.

We know who you are.
The question is, what do you want?

Shelter, food, ale, warmth
and negotiation, perhaps.

Negotiation? Are we at war?

It is what we do, Lord.

Discussion would be a better word.

You are a long way
from Beamfleot, Haesten.

Uhtred?

Believe me, it could be
a pleasure to see you here.

So it is true.

You are no longer Alfred's oathman.

It is true.

And you?
Are you still Alfred's oathman?

He believes so.

And Earl Sigurd, Bloodhair,
what do you have to say?

I say we're tired and hungry
and my arse is sore.

You can't refuse them, Ragnar.

Do you have anything
to say to me, Bloodhair?

Last time I saw you,
you were running for your life.

Yes. You took what belongs to me.
We have that matter to settle.

It is settled.

It can wait.
It may even be resolved peacefully.

Brida is right, we cannot refuse them.

You leave your swords at the gate.
You have our respect.

There will be no argument, I swear.

Open the gate.

Open the gate!

They are here for one thing only,
to speak of war and of Alfred.

Lord. Aethelwold.

Uhtred. I was just about to find you.

What is it you believe you are doing?

- You know what I'm doing.
- Mmm?

I'm seizing a chance to take what is mine,
an opportunity.

Aethelwold, you are here for amusement
and nothing else.

Your rightful place
is the alehouse in Winchester.

Don't dare believe you're above that.

I am as much King of Wessex
as you are Lord of Bebbanburg.

Both of us usurped by an uncle.

I won't let this chance pass...

Where is your honor?

You are meant to be
the son of a king of Wessex.

You do not belong here.

My crown was stolen, and thanks to you, I
now have the opportunity to take it back.

Make no mistake,
we are the same, you and I.

Apparent traitors to Wessex,
but for good cause.

We are not the same and never shall be.

There is no backward step, my friend,
for either of us.

Birds have flown, horses have bolted.

Kings will be made and kings will die.

Because of you.

Lord...

I am leaving for home and for my bed.

Are there any other matters?

- Sleep well, Lord.
- Uhtred's children.

He has abandoned them?

No, Lord, not quite.

The Abbess Hild is providing
for the children.

Coccham is no longer their place.

It is no longer Uhtred's estate.
It is no longer home to his seed.

Have them brought to Winchester...

arrange for their welfare and education.

Introduce them to God.

Rest well, Father Beocca.

Yes, Lord. Rest well.

Go on, move!

You will not believe what Alfred
has asked me.

Beocca, this is Sable.

She has news of Aethelflaed.

- She is safe, you say?
- She is.

She has gone to the nunnery at Wincelcumb.

To be guarded
by Mercia's most fierce nuns.

The King must not know.

But if we say nothing to the King,
if we withhold the knowledge

of a threat to Aethelflaed's life,
that's treachery.

It is what My Lady wishes.

It is what she wishes, not I.

Father, she does not want
the King disturbed, for good reason.

Nor the bond between our two lands broken.

I understand her wanting Wessex
and Mercia to remain allies.

But if talk of the King's illness
is emboldening,

creating enemies of Wessex,
we can't stand by.

Father, will you help us?

We will.

How? By doing what?

By traveling to the nunnery myself?

There is a second letter.

I'm to give it to you only if you agree

with My Lady's reasoning
for not telling the King.

It is a solution.

He is always the solution, it seems.

What?

Aethelflaed has arranged a ship.
It is waiting for us on the Temes.

She thinks it will be
both quicker and safer.

To take us where?

To take us north, dear. To the solution.

How are your guests,
the apple-cheeked Danes?

They are eating my food
and drinking my ale.

Have they asked for your sword yet?

They too are saying Alfred is near death,

and that he is preparing his son
for the crown.

True.

His son is a boy

and Alfred is without his commander.

Again, true.

Our grandfather would often
speak of Wessex,

about its rich and fertile land
from the Temes to the sea.

- Valhalla in this life.
- Yes.

"Valhalla in this life."
Yes, he said that.

How proud would he be

if together we marched
a great army, and we took that land?

He would be proud, no doubt.

You...

you have made this possible.

By abandoning Alfred...

by leaving Wessex,
you have made this possible.

It is fate, no doubt.

You would kill me, arseling?

And men like me?

- Leave us.
- Lord, I cannot.

Brida would have my balls.

You have recovered, Lord. I'm glad.

What is it you want of me? My life?

To be a part of your life, yes.

To live beside you and through you.

You will never be rid of me.

Accept it.

Accept me.

What will become of Wessex and Alfred?

Alfred will die and with him his kingdom,

his god, his people.

Wessex will become just another song.

Danes shall rule.

But you, Uhtred Ragnarson...

For that is who you are now.

...it is you who must rule.

For the sake of the Saxons
you must take Alfred's place.

Only you can unite the two tribes.

What Alfred could only wish for
can be yours.

Ours, My Lord...

My king.

What I want is to be your queen.

And this heart can be yours,
should you want it.

She belongs to me. You will return her.

- You gave her up to save yourself.
- She's mine.

If I have to kill you,
then that is what I will do.

Right here.

You are a guest of my brother,
so I will ignore you this once.

But threaten me again
and I'll feed your guts to the pigs.

Do nothing, Lord,
or I will take your throat.

No lie.

Skade is mine.

Do nothing. I beg you.

You do not understand.

She's not a woman to own.

It is she that must own a part of you.

Her blood becomes your blood.

We will speak again, I'm certain.

Thank you, Lord.

You are mine to kill.

Ragnar, I have given you my word
that I would keep the peace,

but I wish to fight Uhtred.

He has taken my woman, my seer.

He shames me. I'd like to slit his belly...

Now is not the time.

I would accept a fight of skill,
with staffs. Skade as the prize.

Bloodhair...

now is not the time.

My answer is no.

I despise every moment
I am upon the waters.

If God intended I travel the seas,
he'd have made me a fish.

Or a Dane.

I pray we are not risking our lives
in this storm for no reason.

This is no storm.

My mother and I
came to this land on a ship

that lost half of its crew to the sea.

Waves taller than a barn
swept them to their death.

This is not a story I wish to hear.

The real storm you will face
will come at Dunholm.

And I will return south

and send Bloodhair's men and ships
to the River Ouse.

You will follow,
and together we attack Mercia,

we attack Wessex...

...and we kill Alfred!

I find the pretty Aethelflaed...

and we all take our turn with her.

We count our silver.
We go from north to south,

east to west,
taking everything in our path.

And at some point,
we begin to fight amongst ourselves,

and the plan fails.

Fight? For what reason?

It will happen.

It will surely happen.

Why? Because you say it?

'Cause each of you
believes himself to be the sword Dane

above all others, mistakenly.

There can be only one leader.

I will lead. I have ships, I have men.

I've not grown lazy
sitting inside a fortress...

Are you are calling me lazy?

I am asking you to join me, Ragnar,
as Haesten has joined me.

When did I join you?

I gave you food.
I did not give you my oath.

- You believe you should lead?
- Yes.

- Why not?
- Name your victories.

Says the man who lost half his army
to a sickly king.

That is enough of the shit talk.

Next, you'll compare cock sizes.

- There can only be one leader.
- It must be you, Ragnar.

Why? 'Cause he's your brother?

Because Ragnar's the only man
each of us will trust.

The only man.

You do not trust me, Dane-slayer?

Don't know you or like you.

But you are Ragnar's cousin.

It's not about who leads,
it's about how the wealth is divided.

We do not talk of wealth
until we have it in our hands.

Uhtred says that we must become one army.

I see no man here fool enough to disagree.

You all know of me.

You know of my father and my grandfather.

And I tell you now, I would be proud
to lead the next great army,

but only if it is agreed
by each one of you.

In return for your trust,
I give you my word.

When Alfred is defeated,
and he will be defeated...

...there will be silver,

but more than that...

there will be reputation and honor
in this life and the next.

So, who is with me?

Bloodhair?

Yes. I'm with you.

You have my sword. I swear.

Haesten?

I have no argument. I, too, will follow.

And me, cousin, always, but you knew that.

And me.

I'm a man who knows

every Saxon grudge and grievance
held against Alfred.

And there are many.

You will need me.

That leaves Uhtred.

My sword is my brother's, no doubt.

Then it is settled.

The kingdom of Wessex will surrender.

Or burn!

We cannot go against the men of Wessex.

- Be quiet.
- They're our people.

- Finan, our friends.
- Osferth, be quiet.

Now my sword.

- If you'll allow...
- Leave us now.

My Lady. My Lord.

Lord, why are you doing this to yourself?
There is peace.

There is doubt, my dear.

It is infecting all of our England.

This may yet be a weight
that I must carry.

That I will carry, God help me.

I must know that I am able. And I am.

I am.

I pray you are wrong...

but I know the sight of you alone

would strike at the heart
of both the doubters and heathen.

Alfred...

you will never leave me.

Beocca, you have
not spoken a word the whole day.

Yes, I have.

Though my mind is occupied.

Dunholm...

I should not be taking you back
to such a place.

I worry the memories will overwhelm you.

It was a different life, Beocca.

I am a different woman.

I'm with you always.

Riders.

We should hide ourselves.

Haesten.

What is he doing in the north,
such a long way from Beamfleot?

- What is it?
- Traders, maybe.

- One man, one woman.
- Unbar the gates.

Let us take a look at them.

A part of me had hoped
he would not be here.

Thyra.

Thyra, what are you doing here?

Are you not glad to see me?

Look at you, you're beautiful.

- And you're smiling.
- I am happy.

What a sight you are.
You have come all this way.

- To see you.
- Who is he here to see?

Brida, I see you've swallowed
yet another wasp.

Beocca insisted on accompanying me.

That is true, in part.

I am also here
to carry out the King's order

and formally banish Uhtred from Wessex.

Such an order is required by law.

When Thyra has grown tired
of her brothers' company,

we shall be gone.

You came all this way
to tell Uhtred what he already knows?

To see the boy one last time.
Kick his arse, perhaps.

- Is it true?
- All of it.

Thyra.

Good to see you.

My children, are they well?
Have you heard?

They are well
and they are being cared for.

I will fetch them soon.

I'll let you rest.

I will speak with the priest later.

This priest, he is your happiness?

He is.

I could not be without him.

Nor I, you.

We did see the, uh,
charming Earl Haesten on the road.

I know him from his visits to Winchester.

Is he an ally to you,
as well as to Alfred?

Haesten is a Dane.

Indeed.

As is Uhtred.

Father Beocca...

Welcome to Dunholm.

Comes as no surprise
to see you here.

Amongst friends.

- Finan.
- Father Beocca.

- It's good to see you.
- Osferth.

- Dane boy, looks like a rat.
- I am Sihtric.

Your wife, Sihtric, she has left Coccham

and returned to the inn at Winchester.

She has? Is she well?

Oh, she is well.

And she is loud.

- Some privacy?
- Sit yourself down, Father.

We all need to piss.

What is all this?

You seem to be preparing for battle.

It is not your concern.

I fear it may become my concern
quite soon.

Give your message and be on your way.

Please, say it.

I am not here to chide you or to save you,

and I'm not here for Alfred.

I'm here for Aethelflaed.
She's in hiding in a nunnery.

- Hiding from who?
- Her husband.

He plans to have her killed.

This is not my worry.

She has guards, she has the King,

- she has Steapa too.
- She's asked for Uhtred.

Did Aethelwold journey here alone?

He arrived with Haesten and Bloodhair.

Having first paid a visit to Aethelred.

Yes. That is what he did.

Am I to assume the plan is to make
Aethelwold the next king of Wessex?

If Haesten is returning south,

then soon he will know
where Aethelflaed is hiding.

Beocca, I have given
half my life to Wessex.

- I will give no more.
- She says you are sworn to her.

That you promised to help her
should her husband threaten her.

This is a trick. This is Alfred's doing.

Aethelflaed hereby releases you
from that oath.

Yes.

She asks for your help
not because you are her oathman, Uhtred,

but because you are the man
that she trusts the most.

I will say no more.

Had I remained in Wessex
and refused to swear to Edward,

- Alfred would have had me killed.
- It was for Aethelflaed that I came here.

You're free to choose your own path.

May God bless you and guide you.

Say nothing.

I won't so much as fart
in your direction, Lord.

I'll simply say to Sihtric here
that this great army

we're supposedly gathering
can never hold.

Agreed.

And I'll mention to Osferth
that I didn't come north

only to turn and march south.

Nor me, Finan.

Lord, I will follow you wherever you go,
but I have a wife in Wessex.

And men like Haesten and Bloodhair
are no better than Kjartan.

If the north is your home,
your birthright,

then why are we not looking
towards Bebbanburg?

Now that is a fight we can believe in.

Uhtred... I am begging you
as your friend, do not do this.

We should leave this place.

And abandon my brother?

How can I do that?

You must.

When Alfred was young,
he would hump anything and everything,

I swear.

He could not help himself.
Or rather, he could,

and he did.

Uhtred.

What did you say to Aethelred?

What? What do you mean?

You went to Aethelred.
What did you speak of?

I spoke of opportunity.

To do what?

To declare himself King of Mercia,

to enrage Alfred, to cause division.

- To help our cause.
- To kill his wife?

Do not sleep tonight.

You may not wake.

Do not sleep any night.

Yes, I may have suggested to Aethelred

that he should kill his wife,
but why ever not?

She is Alfred's daughter,
it'd cause more chaos.

- What does it matter?
- It matters.

Why? She is the enemy.

Or did Father Beocca travel all this way
to ask you to go and save her?

After all, it is what you do best.
Rescue princesses.

Ragnar, I ask you to make the square.

I've had enough of him.

- Then ignore him.
- I will not.

I will fight him right now and kill him.

Why? Because the turd has found the truth?

Uhtred, we are supposed to be one army,
my friend.

I predict the Lord Uhtred
is about to desert this army.

Aethelflaed has called,
and her hound shall go running...

He is not worth it.

And there
is the proof if need...

- Proof of what?
- You are torn between Saxon and Dane!

Ragnar, your brother seems conflicted.
Is he with us or not?

Uhtred, what do you say?
How is your answer?

What do you say?

I say this army can never hold.

Ragnar, look around you.
We're enemies, bound only by greed.

- There is no bond, no respect...
- No bond, you say?

Then who am I?

You are my brother.

Is that not bond enough?
Or does it not compare to a princess?

It would appear not.

And you, why are you here?
What is your message?

Ragnar. Ragnar!
Your argument is with me alone.

Uhtred is a free man, Ragnar.
His choices are his own.

Then choose.

Do you stand with us,
with each of us, or not?

You will give your answer, Dane-slayer.
Let us hear you.

I will be leaving.

I will be leaving,
though I will not be returning to Wessex.

I am needed.

By a princess.

You're no more a Dane
than the priest here.

You're a whore to the crown of Alfred.

You would do this to me?

Again?

- I must.
- Yes, of course you must.

You swore an oath.

You gave your word.

And that is about reputation and honor.

What my father gave to you,
I now take back.

You are no longer Uhtred Ragnarson.

- Ragnar, you cannot do that, please...
- You are no longer my brother!

This was a game to you.

Never.

Go... before I kill you.

He does not leave with Skade.
Ragnar, she belongs to me.

Yes, Bloodhair. We shall make the square.

And you can fight for the witch...
to the death.

- Agreed.
- Lord, say nothing.

Agreed.

We fight.