God created everything that surrounds me, the fields, rivers, the forests. The land is my church.
What binds a man to his land? What power within allows him to give his life to preserve his land and the lives of the families who work it? It can only be love.
Call me Uhtred. Or, from time to time, you may wish to call me Arseling.
We are one, you and I. From the moment I took your hand on the steps of the great hall of Eoferwic, we were bound as one. You may dislike me, hate me if you wish, despise me at times. But love is immortal. It goes on.[to Brida]
There’s no justice here. Only the church.
The priest doesn’t lie. Despite him being a priest.
The future is fate, it won’t change.
One path looks like another.
Land and silver is what all men desire and I’m no different.
I want them to know that I am alive. I need them to know that I’m alive because they hold what’s mine.
I have no place. I’m not a husband. I am not Uhtred of Coccham, not Uhtred of Bebbanburg. I’m not Uhtred Ragnarson. I am not even an outlaw anymore.[to Hild]
I am Uhtred of Bebbanburg, and I shall take what is mine.
