He can feel it under his fingers and it troubles him more. Mostly because he knows what becomes of his sweet daughter - his Gyda - and he can't help but wonder if this is a punishment from the Gods. What did he do to offend them that they would put him through the heartache of losing her again?

At the mention of Lagertha, Ragnar's eyes moved to look around them; to see if his wife was anywhere to be seen. But when he couldn't see her unmistakable long locks of blonde, his attention immediately returned to Gyda. Despite not understanding what was happening, the father's instinctive need to protect kicked in and he found himself smiling at his girl; an attempt to hide his own fears so that she wouldn't need to panic.

"No," Ragnar told her, using a voice that tried to make the situation one that wasn't as scary as Gyda might think it was. "But it seems the Gods have desired us to be somewhere else than in Kattegat."

His hand moved to her forehead and then over the top of her head before pulling her close to kiss her brow. She was so sick, he knew, and Gyda needed water and herbs but time was running out.

"Come sit with me, hm?" he encouraged, helping her down off the bench and shifting to sit with his back against it and Gyda in front between his legs, her back against his chest. "Did you dream while you were sleeping?"

He needed to keep her awake and talking while he tried to figure out what to do to save her. And he would save her.

Despite whatever the Gods had planned for them.