ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

CHAPTER viii. 'World of Politics'

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             Freydis awoke on a stiff pile of furs with a throbbing headache undermining her temples and sunlight shining irritadingly into her eyes. The woman lethargically sat up, rolling her shoulders back to loosen the knots burgeoning her shoulders. When she found herself better awoken, she peered open a squinting eye to observe the room around her; both Sihtric and Osferth liad ahead of her, the Dane sprawled out on a table whilst his monk counterpart was curled up on the floor. Freydis heard a light snore closer to herself and peered beside the bed she slept on throughout the night to find Finan asleep on the floor using a cloak as a pillow. Furthermore, on the table was a cup of water the Celtic rogue merrily chugged to satisfy her dry mouth and ale-stained taste buds.

Feeling her stomach rumble Freydis decided to get breakfast for herself and the boys. They would surely wake up to an ache in their minds similar to her own, and if Freydis hadn't woken up first she would particularly appreciate a nice warm meal to wake up to. The woman slowly stepped out of bed, placing her bare feet on the open floor around Finans sprawled limbs. She tip-toed to the door, stepping over Osferth in the process, and sat on the floor to tie on her boots. Only a fool would walk barefoot in a public inn; Freydis was sure she had witnessed multiple inconspicuous whores strutting around the wood looking for men to satisfy and silver pouches to purge. Once the woman's boots were efficiently tied, she grabbed her fur-cloak from the stool beside the door and softly opened the door to avoid panic in the slumbering warriors within the room.

When the door was patently closed, Freydis let out a deep sigh as she could now freely stumble and yawn like how her oh-so sleepy mind desired. She stumbled past a man unconscious on the floor, cringing when she accidentally stumbled upon his unmoving digits. Nevertheless, he remained unconscious and Freydis was free of the confrontation that would arise if he had awoken. The alehouse below was scarce of patrons, there only being one morning-time drinker, two soldiers fetching a meal, and a single stewardess at the counter. She approached the woman, swiftly glancing at the forearm-length scar dressing the woman's otherwise unmarked ivory skin, "Good morning," Freydis greeted, pulling a pouch from the pocket of her cloak. It withheld several silver coins Finan had gifted to her; she initially disagreed to take it but nevertheless stopped denying himwhen the Irishman proved insufferably stubborn. "What's for breakfast?"

The stewardess looked at the woman, seemingly unimpressed by Freydis' unintentional show of wealth, "Porridge."

Freydis piqued a brow, "Just porridge?"

"Just porridge," confirmed the woman, "and water."

"Lovely," mused the Celtic rogue, "then I will take the latter four times over. As well as a single pitcher of ale."

The stewardess nodded, pulling out four bowls from underneath the counter, "Four silver," she said. "And two shillings."

Freydis nodded, pulling coins from the pouch and counting them on her outstretched palm. Behind her, the afamed Dane-slayer approached with his hand on the hilt of his newly-returned sword, "Freydis," he greeted, startling her. He glanced toward the four bowls the stewardess actively filled with porridge, "hungry?"

"I am bringing them for the boys," responded the girl, nodding to him in acknowledgement. "Would you like a bowl?"

He shook his head, leaning on the wall as Freydis placed down her coins. "I'm alright, thank you. Are they awake yet?"

"No," Freydis said, "I'm unsure of Finan, but Sihtric, Osferth, and I drank ourselves into a slump. I thought some morning porridge would thwart away any lasting headaches."

Uhtred nodded, "I intended to awaken them coming here, I will join you."

"Very well," she said, "but you must carry some of the grub, I'm afraid no good will come from carrying all this myself." Uhtred chuckled, agreeing as he took two bowls of porridge, and the pitcher of water. Freydis, similarly, held the pitcher of ale to her chest as either hand carried the next two breakfast bowls. "You best be careful, there is a sleeping oaf on the stairway." She warned, "I would rather not start a morning brawl."

"I would not dare, lady," mused the Dane-slayer, "will you be joining us at Beomfleot?"

Freydis' brows scrunched as she glanced over to the Dane-slayer who easily danced around the sleeping man's limbs on the floor, "You're still going?" She inquired, remembering the Witan from the day before, "Did King Alfred not deny your request for men?"

"Even if I had no men I would still be going," he said, "for Skade. Nevertheless, the aethling approached Finan, Sihtric, Osferth, and I last night and granted us the promise of five hundred men. I thought Sihtric and Osferth would have told you during your activities last night?"

Freydis frowned, "They did not. When will you be leaving?"

"This afternoon," he said, "we will leave today and Edward's army will meet us where we shall fight."

As they approached the room, Freydis placed the pitcher of ale in her hand onto the floor and pulled a key from her pocket to unlock the door. "I will join you," she determined, "if you'll have me with your crew."

Uhtred shrugged, "We can use any extra hand," he said. "But you don't need to go if you cannot to gain enough strength for the trek. Æthelflæd would be honored to let you stay, she's desired a womans company since her leave of Wessex to become a Mercian Lady."

Freydis leant down to grab the pitcher before pushing the door open with her food, "I will think about it, Uhtred. Whilst I do respect Lady Æthelflæd's desire for a domestic friend, I am but the opposite and I've always been so. I fear there will be no instance where I stay in Aegelsburg when there's a battle afoot."

"Your loyalty towards us is shocking, Lady," confessed the Dane-slayer, entering the room with Freydis and planting the objects he carried on the free part of the table where Sihtric slept. "And quickly generated. Most women are appalled by our foulness, yet you appear nonetheless intrigued."

Freydis followed in Uhtreds steps and placed the rest of the porridge and the pitcher of ale on the remaining space of the table by Sihtrics head. She didn't look at the Dane-slayer as she spoke, but instead bent down to grab the cup of water beside Osferths head in one hand,and the water by Sihtric into her opposite. "I am thankful for what you and your men did to help free me from Dunholm." She said, splashing one cup in Osferth's direction and the other in Sihtrics. "Besides, I have always been a restless spirit. Whilst the conditions that I face today arise from ill circumstances, I quite enjoy traveling with your band of misfits. Even if the amount of horseriding makes me want to cut off my legs with a dull blade." Soaking wet, Osferth and Sihtric stared at the unconcerned Irish rogue with bewilderment as she plainly spoke to their Lord Uhtred. When Freydis noticed them looking at her, she turned, "Good morning."

Osferth sat up, swinging his head like a soaked hound, "What was that for?"

Sihtric, ever-the silent one, gestured to Osferth to prioritize the baby monk's question as she ran his fingers through his wet hair, and cringed at the headache pounding against his skull. Freydis looked at the baby monk as she proceeded to kingly hand him a bowl of warm porridge, and a cup of fresh water, "That was for not telling me."

"Not telling you what?" He asked bizarrely, "You were with us the entire night!"

Sihtric glanced at Uhtred, "Lord, what is she speaking about?"

"She," Freydis began, glaring at the Dane, "is speaking of Beomfleot. I was with you the entire night and there was not one mention of it; I had to hear it from Uhtred!"

Uhtred leant against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching the commotion between Freydis and the boys in amusement. If Finan had awoken he made no show of it, but Freydis had the inkling of another set of ears listening in on their interaction. Osferth stood up out of the puddle he lay in and sat onto the stool opposite of Sihtric. "There was nothing to tell, Lady!"

Freydis was taken aback, her brow piqued intimidatingly, "Nothing to tell?"

Sihtric, smartly deciding to keep his mouth shut, glanced wearily toward the baby monk who only seemed to make matters worse. "Lady, I meant no harm! What I meant was... we assumed you would not have wanted to go!"

Freydis turned to Sihtric with crossed arms, "Is that so?"

"Not I, Lady," he quickly stated, earning a glare from the monk and snort from Uhtred. "Finan."

Freydis swung around to face where the Irishman lied and found him sitting up leaning on his elbows. "Finan!"

The Irishman groaned, sitting up more as the Celtic pagan stomped her way over. "Mornin, Lady." He greeted, stretching. Freydis stepped around him to grab the cup of water gifted to her on the table and proceeded to splash it ontop the Irishmans head. "Seven hells!" He shouted, jumping onto his feet soaking wet. "What was that for?"

Freydis pointed to Sihtric who systematically clarified; "Beomfleot."

The Irishman made an 'o'-shape with his mouth, and glanced over to Uhtred, to which Freydis grabbed his chin to direct his sightline back to her. "Do not look at him," she darkly stated, "explain to me, Finan, why was I not informed of Beomfleot?"

Uhtred walked over from the wall and placed a hand on Osferth's shoulder, directing the young man to stand up and follow--Sihtric was constructed to do the same. Soon enough, the room door was closed and the two Irish emigrants were left exclusively on their own. "Yu' hardly stand without quivering, Lady!" He said, "Yu' cannot fight in a battle!"

Freydis placed a hand on her hip, "So, let me get this wholly; you deemed me unfit and therefore instructed Sihtric and Osferth to deny me the knowledge of an upcoming battle?"

Finan tilted his head, guilt visibly overtaking his expression, "Lady..."

"Thus, you intended to up-and-leave without telling me, leaving me desolate in a city I have only just learned of in a kingdom discredited with its hostility toward foreigners?"

Finan pushed by her, moving toward the stool where Sihtric previously sat. "I was going to come back for yu' when we took Beomfleot," he stated, looking toward one of the two remaining bowls of porridge. "Is that for me?"

Freydis nodded, taking the stool opposite to him. "I am going with you, Finan."

Finan took a bite of porridge, swallowing it before responding, "Respectfully, no yu' are not, Lady."

Freydis laughed in disbelief, "You believe you hold authority over me, Finan?"

The Irishmans eyes softened at her tone, "Of course not, Lady. But yu' cannot deny that yu'r still weak. Beomfleot is a strong city with over a thousand men, it'd simply be too dangerous for yu' to fight!"

"That is not for you to determine," Freydis lowly retorted, "you envision me too frail, Finan. I may quiver but I stand upright nonetheless. I cringe when I hold my saex but I wield it nonetheless. My thighs ache and pelvis agonize, but I ride that bastard horse of mine nonetheless."

"I–"

"I have known you hardly a month, Finan," Freydis continued, "you do not know who I am or what I can handle. You do not know my swordskill or resilience toward hegemonizing men. Whilst I do wish you come to learn these aspects of myself, and I you, you have no authority over my actions or lust for battle."

Finan frowned, "I understand that, Lady. I didn't intend to take authority of your actions, I know what it is like to be out of control. I'm merely worried for you, Lady. I don't wish to see you hurt."

Freydis leant forward, placing her palm over Finan's hand that rested on the table, "You will not see me hurt, Finan, for I have experienced hurt. The Gods oversee my actions and protect me from any bpossible foe, how else can you explain myself being the lone survivor of my beloved Linnasburgh?"

Finan glanced at her hand, pulling his thumb over hers and caressing the uncallaused skin of the back of her hand. He looked up to her smirking, "Luck."

"Fate," Freydis corrected, smiling. "And my fate continues to strengthen. Now, my fate guides me to follow you, Finan. You and Uhtred to Beomfleot, and wherever-more to gain the skill and loyalty required to retake Linnasburgh from the Norsemen."

Finan sighed, begrudgingly nodding his head. "Very well, Lady," he said. He then looked very seriously into her eye with a fervent expression, "if yu' insist on joining us, yu' must acquire yourself something other than a saex."

Freydis laughed, the squint of her eyes and width of her smile causing the Irishman's heart to momentarily stop. "I can do that," she promised, taking her hand off Finan's and concealing her playful smirk with her cup of water, "not."

"Lady!"

"I jest!" She laughed, "I'll retrieve a new weapon, I promise."

"Vow it."

She rolled her eyes, "I vow that I will get myself a new weapon before we leave Aegelesburg."

Finan huffed, "Good."

"Great." She retorted. Finan did not respond, but instead rolled his eyes as he took another bite of porridge. "I win!"

"I wasn't aware we were playing a game."

"And that is why I win," Freydis stated.

The Irishman scoffed, "Yu' cannot win a game if the other player is not aware that there even is one!"

"Welcome to the world of politics," Freydis mused, "just be grateful I hold no lands or warriors over your head."

"Not yet," Finan smirked, sipping his water.

Both surprised and flattered, Freydis nodded agreeingy and took a deep breath before repeating the Irishman's veritable response. "Not yet."

❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

Posted: 12:22:2021
Words: 2,401