Nearly a week had passed from the fateful battle in which the Mercian Army under the command of Ealdorman Ethelred was horrendously liquidated by the West Saxons.
Thane Odda had maintained his supply line's retreat back to Oxford, where he intended to defend the grain reserves until death.
As for the result of the battle, Odda had dispatched semaphore signals and riders to all corners of the Midlands, informing the realm of their CEO's death and the results of the catastrophic audit.
When Ragnar finally received the news, he was sitting on his swivel chair in the executive suite of City Titan, with Gyda sitting on the edge of his desk, reviewing the quarterly projections.
Ragnar indeed had no shame as he continued to trace the line of her hip with his silver-geared cane, which caused her to smirk with professional amusement.
