The Vikings
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- Year:
- 1958
- 116 min
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The Vikings, in Europe of
the 8th and 9th Century...
were dedicated
to a pagan god of war, Odin.
Cramped by the confines of their
barren, icebound northlands...
as shipbuilders...
to spread a reign of terror...
then unequaled
in violence and brutality...
in all the records of history.
The greatest wish
of every Viking...
was to die sword in hand,
and enter Valhalla...
where a hero's welcome
awaited them...
from the god Odin.
The compass was unknown...
by the sun and the stars.
Once fog closed in, they were
left helpless and blind.
After all, the earth was flat.
Sail too far off course...
and the black wind
would blowthem...
across the Poison Sea
that lay to the west...
and over the edge
of the world into limbo.
Their abiding aim
was to conquer England...
then a series
of petty kingdoms...
each one
the jealous rival of the next.
Thus, when the Vikings set forth
to rob and plunder England...
they never sailed
out of sight of land.
to swift, overnight raids.
It was no accident that
the English "Book of Prayer"...
contained this sentence...
"Protect us, Oh Lord,
from the wrath of the Northmen."
Ragnar!
The king is dead.
Long live the king.
For two months, we have
mourned the good King Edwin...
who by the cruel Viking Ragnar
was foully murdered...
and still lies unrevenged.
The council of the kingdom
now declare that Aella...
is of the true royal line...
and welcome his succession
to the throne.
Your Majesty.
Thank you, my gracious lady.
You may rest assured
that the barbarians...
that murdered
your husband, my cousin...
will soon feel
the weight of my anger.
And though your union
with Edwin was fruitless...
feel confident that you retain
the respect of us all.
You may retire, Queen Enid.
We...
Thurston Bishop
and Matthew Bishop...
ask you will you take
Aella as your king...
You need not fear, my lady.
He has no right to the throne.
There is no direct heir,
my lady.
There is an heir.
What?
Brother Godwin,
I am with child...
but not Edwin's.
The child is that
of the Viking Ragnar.
A bad omen.
The holy sword Requiter...
the sword of kings.
Long live the king!
He's the son of a barbarian...
but I love him
as if he were Edwin's child.
There are already
rumors of his birth.
If they were to reach Aella...
Where are you sending him?
To Italy.
To be tended by monks...
who will not know his identity.
But his life will be safe...
and yours, too.
Father Godwin!
The pommel stone
of the sword Requiter.
It is his by right.
If you hope
to identify him...
in years to come
by means of this stone...
so can his enemies.
Twenty years passed.
Queen Enid had died...
but the rumor that
she had given birth to a son...
continued to plague King Aella.
Although his castle became
the stronghold of all England...
Aella was unable to stop
the Viking raids.
Now let it be known...
throughout the kingdom
of Northumbria...
that l,
King Rhodri of Wales...
bestow on King Aella...
the hand of
my daughter Morgana.
I will consent to this.
l, too,
King Rhodri of Wales, consent.
Praise be to God!
Amen.
Please rise, child.
On the first day of Spring,
you will become my bride.
I trust, Lord Egbert...
that you approve
of this alliance?
With all my heart, sire.
Then why do you spread tales...
of an heir to the throne
left by Queen Enid?
'Tis common knowledge, sire.
The queen on her deathbed
spoke of a son...
sent off to Italy
with the pommel stone...
of the sword Requiter
tied about him.
Your Majesty, is it wise...
to speak of things
so long in the past?
I hope soon to silence
these wagging tongues.
This beautiful child...
will present me with
an heir to the throne.
And this marriage...
will combine the strength
of Wales and Northumbria...
and protect our people...
from the depredation
of the Vikings.
That is not enough!
I must also expose
a traitor in our midst.
Surely there are no traitors
in this hall, sire.
Cousin Egbert,
why have your lands...
never been attacked
by the Vikings?
What do you mean, sire?
Neither your lands...
nor the lands of
your fellow conspirators...
have ever suffered
any real harm.
For years,
I'll not be made a scapegoat...
for your failure
to stop the Viking raids!
You have conspired
with the foes of England...
to unseat me
from my throne!
-What foes?
-The Vikings!
Take him out!
Lies will not sustain a tyrant!
Use skill. It must appear
as if he took his own life.
He's gone, sire!
Hunt him down!
Bring me his head!
Hail, Ragnar.
You're late. We've been
waiting half the night.
I nearly
didn't get here at all.
Aella knows of our meetings.
I barely escaped with my life.
Take me with you!
He is no more use to us.
Send him back.
That's no way to reward a man
who's guided our raids.
No, we'll find
good use for him.
Come aboard.
Make sail for Long Sound.
Make sail for Long Sound!
Ragnar!
Come on.
Hail, Ragnar! Hail, Ragnar!
Hail, Ragnar!
Hail, Einar!
I drink to your safe return
in English ale!
I wish that
it were English blood.
Hold your mouth!
This is an Englishman.
Englishman?
Lord Egbert. An ally.
Then drink to
my father's return, Englishman!
Do you want the English
to think we're barbarians?
This is Einar,
my only son in wedlock.
He's so vain of his beauty...
he won't let
a man's beard hide it.
He scrapes his face
like an Englishman.
Hail, Ragnar.
And hail Ragnar's beard!
I want you to teach
Lord Egbert our customs.
I'll teach him.
Remember,
I live by brains, not brawn.
Yes, my lord.
Then fetch him a horse!
-Now?
-Why not?
Einar!
Gently, gently.
I know. Brains, not brawn.
He's got to draw us maps
of the English coast!
What man ever had a finer son?
But I did.
Come!
Don't be frightened.
She's forbidden
to hunt Englishmen.
Too much for her to swallow.
We have the same sport
in England.
With hawks like this?
Watch.
Kill.
You call that a hawk?
I think we have hawks
to equal that one.
Here.
Bring up Long Claw.
Look, nowthere's
a hunting bird.
You again.
Whose bird is that?
It's mine.
Where'd you steal it?
Sandpiper was with me
when I found her.
The perfect witness...
deaf and dumb.
Perhaps you'd like
your own tongue cut out.
Then you'll tell no more lies.
I'm not a liar.
Is this the way
slaves talk to Vikings?
Tell the English lord
that you're a liar.
Kill!
Kill him!
No!
Don't kill him.
Odin!
Bring in the slave.
Look how he glares at me.
If he wasn't fathered
by a black ram...
in the full of the moon,
my name is not Ragnar.
What would you do with him
in your country?
We have a special reward
which is rather entertaining...
in a noisy way.
What's that?
It's nothing much...
just a pit full of wolves
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"The Vikings" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_vikings_22847>.
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