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CHAPTER xi. 'Dagda Mór, Lord of Lords'

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             The next morning, Uhtred awoke the sleeping warriors with a splash of cold water. Freydis took the brunt of the water seeing as Finan was asleep head-first in her lap. She sputtered in surprise, her head throbbing at the sudden jump that trailed her rude awakening. Uhtred grinned, looking at the Irish royalty and then grinned in equal sadism toward his right-hand who startled awake simultaneously to his human pillow. "We're leaving for Saltwic," Lord Uhtred mused, "I want the two of you to lead with me."

"Couldn't you have... I don't know... shook us awake?" Freydis inquired, adding the last part when she noticed Sihtric standing behind the Dane-slayer. So much for the kindness she showed waking him up the night before.

Uhtred shrugged, "Not as fun." He looked to the Irishman, "Sober up, Finan. You will lead the line of prisoners."

"Yes, Lord," The Irishman tiredly gruffed, taking a final swig of the leftover ale from the night before. When he finished, Freydis took the cup from his hand and stood up, splashing the last few drops in Sihtrics face.

The Dane laughed, "Your hair is a rat's nest."

"Says the bastard Beocca calls 'young man with rat-hair'," Scoffed Finan, standing up and stretching. "Lord, can we leave Sihtric behind?"

Uhtred rolled his eyes, re-positioning his cloak on his shoulders, "No, Finan. You two hurry up now, it's cold so take your furs."

"Aye, Lord," Finan said, saluting the man as he danced around the rest of Uhtred's sleeping men. Freydis followed behind him, making less of a spectacle as she graciously moved around the bodies without a single trip. As they climbed the stairs Uhtred and Sihtric left, and Finan and Freydis were left with their purchased inn bedroom cluttered with blood bandages and ale stains.

 She frowned, "We should clean this up."

Finan shook his head, carefully placing his armor over his shoulders without unraveling the knot that protected his chest wound. "I paid extra, the innkeeper will clean it up. Take the fur blankets too, we can use them on the ride to Saltwic. Tis' cold."

Reluctantly, Freydis dressed into her discarded armor and hooked her weapon belt to her waist. She then moved over to the bed, taking the top layer of furs and tying it around her neck like a cloak, she handed the other blanket to Finan, to which he did the same but with the blanket covering his head as well. When they returned outside Freydis was hit with a cool breeze that soothed the ale-induced ache in her head, nevertheless, the cold did not stay comforting as she climbed onto her dreadful horse Ogna and was pelted by the new wintery mixture of freezing rain and sleet patches. Moments later, Osferth was carted to the head of the line in a wagon, and Finan was handed the chains that aligned the Danish prisoners to one another. And then they left, crossing the gates of Beomfleot and entering the trail that would bring them to Saltwic.

By midday, the walls of Saltwic appeared over the hills they traversed. Freydis glanced at Finan, smiling at his huddled posture beneath the stolen blanket of Beomfleot. He returned the smile and tugged the chain attached to the wrists of the leading prisoner Dagfinn. Freydis grinned as the man stumbled, amused by the uncharacteristic predicament the Norseman was stuck in. As they approached the gates, Æthelflæd greeted them eagerly from the ramparts, smiling in the particular direction of Uhtred. Entering, Freydis was greeted with the warmth of multiple ongoing fires--she eagerly jumped off her horse, handing it to one of Æthelflæd's guards, and flattened her palms above the flames of the fire.

Soon enough, Finan found her and redirected her into the warmth of an alehouse. They proceeded to eat stew and grain, drinking as they told stories from the Battle of Beomfleot to Mercia's fledgling soldiers. Uhtred disappeared, of course, moments later after Æthelflæd retired to her quarters. His men were left to guard the prisoners in the alehouse and await his further direction into the night. Freydis now sat across from Sihtric as the Irishman sat at the edge of a long table, "Osferth is resting," she informed them, "the healer redressed his wounds and got him to eat some stew."

"Good," Finan tiredly proclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "Your elbow?"

"No infection," she stated, revealing her own fresh bandages. "Go get your chest checked out, Finan, before you fall asleep."

"He cannot," Sihtric stated, begrudgingly eating a piece of bread. "Uhtred wants us to watch the prisoners."

"I'm sure he would understand if Finan redressed his wounds," Freydis frowned, "the cut was deep: a primal habitat for infesting bacteria." Sihtric shrugged, downing some more ale and rubbing his face to keep himself awake.

"I'll be fine, I've got a bastard's blood," Finan mused, "never got an infection before and I never will."

Freydis rolled her eyes, "When I find you puking poisoned with acidic blood, I will laugh."

The group of three stayed silent and Freydis began to feel the exhaustion of sitting so still bearing down on her. Finan sat with his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes sliding unwillingly shut before he would shake his head and reposition himself into a less comfortable position. Sihtric, better resilient to the exhaustion, stared off into space with a cup of ale in his hand he occasionally took sips from. As the sun began to set outside, Uhtred finally returned from his adventures with Æthelflæd; "How's Osferth?" He asked, removing his gloves from his hands.

"Sleeping," Finan replied, his voice gruff. Freydis smiled softly at the sound, finding it both amusing and beguiling. "As we should all be." Uhtred sighed, sitting beside Sihtric who avoided eye contact. "Just as soon as he's recovered we should attempt to recover Skade."

"Once again." Sihtric replied, his voice slurred from his intolerance to ale.

Finan continued, ignoring the Dane, "So long as she is free, Lord, yu' are cursed."

"Skade is with the Danes," Freydis stated, "We cannot reach her, not unless we enter their camps ourselves."

Uhtred shook his head, "We will not chase her to our deaths."

Sihtric sighed, blinking lethargically as he turned to look toward Uhtred, "Death will find us regardless."

Uhtred tilted his head, "Do you have something to say, Sihtric?"

Finan noticed the growing tension between the two, "He does not."

Sihtric ignored him, not taking his eyes off Uhtred, "Except that enough of us have died already."

Freydis sighed incredulously, "You are a warrior, Sihtric. Death is a hazard."

Uhtred took his eyes off the Danish man, "I have decided to go to Ragnar, I must help him find peace."

Sihtric ripped another piece off of his bread, "All you will find at Ragnars graveside is ghosts."

Uhred ignored him, looking to Finan and Freydis, "You will keep watch of Æthelflæd and you will rest." He ordered, standing up to take his leave.

Sihtric sighed, "No man who serves Uhtred can rest," he said, "not until Skade is reclaimed."

Finan grabbed Sihtric by the shoulder, "Sihtric, yu' are drunk and yu' are tired."

"Yes." the Dane agreed, "I am tired of marching north and then south, of being called a traitor, of abandoning my wife! All for what?"

Freydis grabbed Finan's arm anxiously as Uhtred approached Sihtric and stood face-to-face with him, "Then leave, boy." Uhtred said, his voice dangerously gruff.

The Irishman looked betrayed himself, "Yu' don't mean that."

Uhtred did not take his eyes off of Sihtric, "If you are unhappy in my service, leave!"

Sihtric stood up, his anger exploding in a pandemonium of ire as he shoved his Lord backward, "I have fought for you!"

Uhtred, unaffected, laughed, "You fight because you enjoy it!" Finan stood up and moved behind Sihtric in case the Dane went any further than shoving.

"You'd dismiss me as easily as this?" Sihtric asked, seemingly betrayed himself.

"Stay or go, I do not care." Uhtred mused.

Finan, ever the mediator, moved between them, "He does not mean that, he does care. Now let us all sit."

"Stay or go, Sihtric Kjartansson," Uhtred said, "It is your choice. Make it!"

Sihtric took a step back and for a moment Freydis thought he would let up. Instead, he looked confidently back toward the Dane-slayer, "If you wish to make the square, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, let us do it."

Freydis stood, "Sihtric, do not be dramatic!"

"There will be no square made," Finan agreed, "No fighting, just sleep! Jesus..." He turned to Sihtric taking initiative, "Get the prisoners back with the pigs, bound."

Sihtric moved to listen but Uhtred called to retake his attention, "Sihtric! I will leave at first light but I will return. And if you are here still... then I will kill you." With that, Uhtred left.

Finan shook his head at the Dane, "Why?"

"The two of you are ridiculous!" Freydis seethed, "dramatic-arses, truly. I cannot believe the amount of idiocy shared between the two of you!"

Sihtric growled, hitting a pitcher of water off the table and nearly into the shin of a guard. "He has cursed us all!" He yelled looking between both Freydis and Finan. He continued to turn and sat on the table with his feet on the bench in some bitter attempt to avoid looking at the two Irish emigrants.

Dagfinn, seated amongst the other prisoners, laughed, "She has cursed you all and Uhtred allows it." He said, speaking of Skade.

Finan ran his hand through his hair as Freydis angrily poured herself some ale, "Shut yu'r mouth."

"Abandon him, boy," urged the Dane, speaking to Sihtric. "It is your only chance. You are a Dane, first and last." Finan made a gesture, and the guard behind Dagfinn grabbed the Dane by the neck and slammed his nose into the table to silence him.

Freydis stood out of her spot on the bench and moved around Finan to stand ahead of Sihtric. "He does not mean what he says, Sihtric. He will not kill you, he cares far too much to disregard you so."

"Yet he has done it." Said the Dane, sipping his ale.

"And you challenged him to a square," she said, "it is the instinct of man to prove who has a bigger cock, this was merely Uhtred's attempt at it. Nevertheless, it proves that Finan and I have the largest seeing as we did not start such a foolish quarrel and rather seem to want to end it."

Sihtric, despite the anger that pooled in his chest smiled while looking down to his hands. "It doesn't matter any longer, if I stay he will kill me." He looked back up, staring her in the eye, "Uhtred does not break his oaths."

"If I am not mistaken... I thought Uhtred was an outlaw of Wessex because he does sometimes break oaths." Sihtric did not speak so Freydis smiled, "You will stay, Sihtric."

"And in the meantime tie the bloody prisoners in the pig pen." Finan chimed, snatching Sihtrics ale from his hand.

Sighing, Sihtric did as told and Freydis took her seat on the table, crossing her legs in the process. "That was fun," she mused, "I want to skewer myself now." Finan chuckled, stretching his arms out and lying his head on the inner-arm of his elbow. "This is not your bed."

He shrugged, "Close enough."

Freydis rolled her eyes and hopped off the table, "You are not sleeping in an alehouse again," she said, "you complained the entire horseride of a backache, I will not go through that again."

Finan groaned as Freydis took him under the armpits and tried with all her might to pull him off of the bench. "Alrigh', alrigh'!" He said, standing up. Freydis nearly fell over from all of her unutilized momentum but Finan quickly caught her.

"Thank you." She chortled, "do you have nails in your arse or something?"

Finan rolled his eyes, suppressing a laugh as he grabbed her by the hand and lead them both out of the alehouse.

When Freydis woke up the next morning, she was appalled to find that Sihtric had left in the night with all of the Beomfleot prisoners. She was so upset that she could not face the idea of eating breakfast, so she skipped it and went out to the woods outside of Saltwic. Before leaving she had acquired herself a cup of ale, a wooden bowl filled with water, a candle, piece of silver, and a woven bead Sihtric had gifted her moments before their initial ride to Beomfleot. She planned to pray to Dagda for the Dane's safety, no matter how angry she truly was with him. The Irish rogue placed the bowl of water on the forest floor, placing the lit candle in the center; "His harp, Four-Angled Music: it guides me, His club, Lorg Mór, protects me," she began, dropping the piece of silver into the flame of the candle, "His cauldron, it fulfills me, as I pray and offer to Him. May my devotion be done in Duty and Truth." She then placed the bead into the water, careful it was not close enough to burn. "Bíodh sé amhlaidh!" Be that as it may!

Freydis looked to the sky, observing the forest roof above her and smiling at the bridge that intercepted into the grass below. "Dagda Mór, Please accept this Offering!" She yelled, gesturing to the bowl of water, fire, and silver. "Dagda Mór, alert all of the Gods and Godesses as I ask You this. O' gracious Lord of Lords," she began, "thought he is not loyal, or devoted, protect my dear friend Sihtric Kjartansson with all thy Might. Watch over him with care so he may avoid dangers snare. Hail Lord-King, Protector of Worlds, banish all evil from his sight. Silence whatever greed enswarmes Lord Balor and send it away from my dear Sihtric Kjartansson. So it is and So it mote be!" Freydis looked to the wooden bowl ahead of her and lifted the candle from the water, dipping the flame into the Offering. "Thanks be to the Kindred Three, let the ways be closed. Bíodh sé amhlaidh!" Be it so!

The crunch of a branch caused the Irish Rogue to swiftly turn and she jumped to find a giant pair of boots standing behind her. However she quickly identified them as Finan's and looked up to watch the Irishman, "Gods Finan, you scared me half to death!"

"Yu' should carry a saex if yu' leave the estate alone," he said, kneeling down and dropping the blade into the grass. "What are yu' doing?"

"Praying," she said, feeling blood rush into her cheeks. "For Sihtrics safety and protection."

"Who did you pray to?"

"Dagda, Lord of Lords," Freydis answered, "however, I requested he spread my prayer amongst all of the Gods. If Sihtric has gone where I think he has... he will need the protection of all of Them."

"Would the prayer extend to him?" Finan inquired, curious. "He is a Danish pagan."

Freydis bit her inner cheek, "I relayed that to Dagda already, so I hope He will abide by my request.

Finan smirked, leaning closer to the Irish Rogue, "Do you pray for me?"

Freydis saw the game he was playing and copied his actions by getting even closer. "No."

"Pity," he gulped, sitting back awkwardly. Freydis frowned but stayed silent. "Does yu'r creed have a Heaven and Hell?"

Freydis nodded, "We do, Tír Tairngire is our Heaven; Albios. Tír fo Thuinn is our Hell; Dubnos. And Tír na mBeo is the overworld; our  world."

The Irishman wrapped his arms around his knees, "What is Albios like?"

Freydis opened her mouth to speak, but cut herself off before she could say what she wanted too, instead, she tilted her head with a smirk, "You wish to know about Paganism, Irishman?"

Finan laughed, "Because I do not believe it does not mean I am not curious."

She nodded, "I will tell you if you do something for me in return."

He piqued a curious brow, "What is it?"

"Swordskill," Freydis answered, "I want you to teach me swordskill, and in return, I will teach you of the Gods."

"Yu' already know swordskill!" The Irishman stated incredulously, "was Beomfleot a mere accident?"

"I know the basics," Freydis informed, "but I do not know proper dueling swordskill; not enough, at least."

"I will teach yu'," Finan agreed, "but why do yu' ask me now?"
   

"I wish to challenge Vikar to a square."

Finan was silent, his expression apparent with surprise, "What?"

"Do not tell me 'no,' Finan," Freydis frowned, "I will fight him and I will kill him. If you do not wish to teach me I will ask someone else."

He raised his hands in surrender, "I will teach you, just... couldn't we just break into his camp and kill him in his sleep?"

Freydis shook her head, "I want all of his men to witness his demise, I want Skjord to see."

"Cruel," Finan muttered, grinning, "I like it. Then when yu' kill him, I will take the balls off of the bastard and tie them around Vikars neck."

Freydis stood, "So, we are in agreement?"

Finan stood, using her hand to help himself up before shaking it in agreement, "We are. Now will you tell me what Albios is like?"

    Freydis smirked, releasing his hand and turning to lift up the supplies she had brought from Saltwic, "How should I know, Finan? I have never been there."

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Posted: 12:25:2021
Words: 2,905