ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

CHAPTER xiv. 'Pull Like A Darn Slave!'

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                The resolute Irish Rogue sat in a pile of twigs, hiding behind a throng of insensate beech trees with the Dane-slayer on her right and his right-hand Irishman on her left. Osferth kneeled beside Finan with a wooden club held at the ready, whereas Uhtred's guards sprawled amongst the dead wood awaiting their next move. The ground was sodden with melted snow and mudpiles acquired by the newly-emerged sun, Freydis was soaked head-to-toe, rained on by melting water droplets from the canopy of trees above. They had arrived from Crowland, Mercia hours before, and since then sat patiently for whatever Uhtred awaited. Initially, Freydis had sat at the ready like her companions, but as hours passed with no activity she eventually gave up and gathered whatever dry trigs she could find to use as a seat.

Osferth leant back where he balanced, repositioning his legs to adhere to his wounds from Beomfleot. "Once night falls, even the king of shadow walkers would find no place here." He said, advising Uhtred in a manner only they seemed to understand.

Finan tipped forward, getting a better glance into the trees before jumping back and nearly knocking Freydis over entirely in the process. "Someone's coming."

Freydis grinned, standing up as she followed the boys to a wider expanse, "Finally!"

The monk tilted his head, swirling his club in his fist. "It is Sihtric."

The Irish Rogues smile fell as her heart thumped noisily against her chest. She grabbed her saex from its sheathe and weld it readily just as Finan did by her side. Sihtric stepped around a tree, revealing a stoic young man Freydis had not seen since he abandoned them at Satlwic several weeks before. Uhtred stood, and suddenly the Irish Rogue remembered why Sihtric left, and her eyes grew wide as she grabbed Finan's elbow worriedly. "You have something to say to me?" Uhtred asked, vexation seeping from his ambience.

Sihtric tilted his head up confidently, "I do." The Dane grabbed the hilt of his sword, wielding it in preparation of a fight. "Yield to me."

He raised his sword closer to the Dane-slayers neck, Freydis and Finan tightened their grips around their weapons as Uhtred slowly raised his hands in surrender. He dropped his saex and in a swift moment Sihtric spun his sword and threw it into the ground before laughing and collapsing into Sihtric in a tight embrace. Osferth let out a disblieving laugh, "You were playing us!" He said in revelation, looking back toward the two Irish emigrants, "My goodness, they were playing us! Why?"

Uhtred laughed, breaking away his embrace with the Danish man before leaning down to retrieve his abandoned saex in the dirt. "If you had not believed it, nor would others."

Finan approached Sihtric and the man smirked, "I fooled you."

"No, I knew!" Claimed the Irishman, poking Sihtric in the chest with a hard finger.

"He did not," Freydis laughed, "for if he knew, I would have known."

Sihtric laughed and looked toward the Irish Rogue now dressed in professional armors with a ruby-hilted sword, which was quite a contrast to the last time he saw her. "Was I good?"

Both Freydis and Osferth answered, chuckling naively, "A little."

Finan stole back the attention of his brother, enthusiastically hugging him as he furthered his distrustful claim, "I'm telling yu', I knew! I hope it was worth it."

"I hope so, too." Sihtric agreed, hugging the monk next.

Uhtred stepped forward, "So, what do you know? We saw Cnut on the road."

Sihtric nodded, confirming Uhtred's exclamation as Sihtric went to Freydis next and hugged the much shorter woman. He pulled away from the hug, receiving an unwanted ruffle of his hair when he and the Irish Lady separated. "Only Hæsten remains at the camp," he informed, fixing his disheveled mare, "Bloodhair is dead."

Freydis crossed her arms, "Good riddance."

Finan stepped forward, "What of Skjord?"

"He lives," Sihtric stated, "Vikar left, he is in search of Lady Freydis. He intends to reclaim her."

Freydis' heart leapt, but her expression stayed stoic, "Good, and when he finds me I shall kill him."

Uhtred piqued a brow, "How did Bloodhair die?"

Sihtric smirked, "He fought with Hæsten and was killed by Skade!"

"Good Jesus," Finan said, shaking his head.

Sihtric turned to him, "She is a witch like no other."

Uhtred refused to look the Dane in the eye as he glanced at the army in the distance, "She knows I'm near?"

"Yes, and she knows of your promise to shadow-walk," Sihtric dutifully relayed, "but Uhtred, there are too many guards. She is allowed to collect grass and herbs by a tree for her spells."

Freydis raised a brow, inquiring, "Spells?" As Uhtred, moreover, relayed his placidity by the relevance of a single tree amongst a forest of them.

"It is a single tree on the other side of the camp," he said, "you cannot miss it."

"Tell her I'm here and take her there tonight." Uhtred stated.

"And if she refuses?" Sihtric asked, "If Hæsten prevents her?"

Uhtred smirked, "She will not refuse, and Hæsten will not refuse her." Sihtric laughed as Uhtred patted his shoulder, "You have never failed me, Sihtric. I will see you at the tree."

Sihtric turned to take his leave and Uhtred directed Finan and Osferth to follow him where they set up camp. Freydis stopped in her tracks, "We sat there for five hours awaiting a single man?" She inquired, frowning. "My arse is sodden because Sihtric decided to take his good ol' time?"

Uhtred did not turn back, "Let's go, Freydis."

Freydis rolled her eyes, groaning as she stomped her feet into the mud and reluctantly followed the Dane-slayer, his right-hand, and the monk back to camp. They stayed there throughout the evening, watching as the sun receded into the night and resting whenever Uhtred had no use of them. Sihtric returned to the Dane-slayers camp deep into the night – he had completed his task and brought Skade to her tree of magic.

They walked along the treeline, ensuring they were far enough to be unheard and unseen by the Danes. Freydis leaned into Finan, "What if something goes wrong?" She inquired, biting her lower lip.

Finan shrugged, seemingly unbothered, "What about it?"

"We do not have the horses," Freydis stated, "and if we do manage to run to them, we do not have one for Skade."

"We are not meant to bring the horses with us when we leave," he stated, "Uhtred had Osferth cut all their reins before we left."

Freydis stopped in her tracks, "What?"

 Finan stopped as well, "Osferth cut all their reins... Freydis, yu' had known we weren't going to keep them forever, yeah? Horses ever last in our line of work."

 "No I did not know that!" She whisper-yelled, "are you telling me Ogna is now on her own?"

The Irishman frowned, "She's a horse, Freydis. She will be fine."

 Freydis went through a mariage of facial expressions before falling onto a face of stoic vexation. She pushed past the Irishman, catching up to the rest of the ground so she could confront Uhtred herself. However, the Dane-slayer was nowhere in sight. She approached Osferth and Sihtric, pointedly facing the monk firsthand as she was yet to be used to Sihtric being back yet. She had not known the Dane for long before he had left, and whilst it did affect her greatly when he left she still found herself apprehensive towards the man, "Where is Uhtred?" Osferth pointed toward a tree in the distance where Uhtred stood with a woman: Skade. Freydis growled in frustration, "Did you know Uhtred intended for all our horses to be released into the wild?"

Osferth shrugged, "I never expected differently, it was all a matter of when."

     Freydis' stomach dropped, and her anger was then replaced with desperation. "Couldn't someone have told me that before I named my bastard horse and grew a liking for her?"

 Sihtric laughed, "It is just a horse, be it better we are letting her go and not burying her."

    "Shut up, traitor," Freydis hissed, utting a hand up to silence him. "I have yet to forgive you entirely."

    "He's right, though, Freydis," Finan said, lazily catching up. "We lose horses constantly, primarily in battle. At least Oona gets to enjoy the pleasures of the pastures, rather than be buried in them."

    Sihtric snickered as Freydis frowned, "Her name is Ogna, you bastard." Behind Finan, Freydis noticed the tree branches move. She quickly placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, "Who goes there?"

    Not even a moment after a voice broke out into the field, "He is here, Lord! Uhtred is here!"

    Finan quickly slit the throat of the wailing men before they broke out into a run. Uhtred and Skade quickly caught up to which Sihtric shouted, "There are ships on the river!"

"To the river, Sihtric!" Uhtred ordered, "you lead!"

 They caught up to an area of tall grass and Uhtred's men revealed themselves in alert toward the quick-paced coterie. Sihtric continued to lead them through a skinny path, bringing them to an opening reeking of salt and fish. Finan held his arm out, halting Freydis into a crouch as Sihtric revealed himself to the guards. The man feigned orders by Hæsten, claiming the Great Dane Army was under attack and the women and children were in need of transportation to flee. Uhtred unsheathed his sword, running toward the docks in preparation for battle. Finan raised his arm out of the way, pulling himself and his fellow Irishman up, "Come on!"

 Uhtred slit the firsts throat, followed by Sihtric who ultimately alerted the other Danes of a coup. Freydis personally unnsheathed her sword Belenus, slicing her sharpened blade over the arteries of a man in the process of removing his axe from his hip. The battle was quick, each one of Uhtreds men fighting an equal; by the end of the fight, only two of the Dane-slayers guards were killed. Sihtric used an oar to push the extra boats from the dock as everyone else piled into a single boat on the right. "Make sure it doesn't list, lads!" Finan shouted, taking control. "Prepare the oars!" Freydis helped Skade in and Uhtred began pushing the boat from the dock to give them a head start. All the other men, upon Finans order, readied the oars in an upward motion before ultimately dropping them all into the water. Uhtred leapt in and turned to his men, "And pull!"

"Pull!" Finan furthermore instructed, arrows raining down on the boat of escapees. "Pull! And pull! Pull like a darn slave!"

 When they arrived on land again, Finan had not spoken a word to Freydis. When she tried to distract herself from losing Ogna without being able to say goodbye, the Irishman answered her in short uninterested responses before ultimately leaving her by her lonesome and doing as Uhtred commanded. So, as they then sailed aback a trading ship from Mercia to Coccham, Freydis retired to the front of the ship, all the way on the other side from where the Irishman rested. When they returned to land, Freydis was presented to a short-walled Wessex estate the Irish Lady had so often heard of amidst her travels with the group of warriors. Finan went ahead with Uhtred and Skade as Freydis trailed back with Sihtric and Osferth. Coccham was, unsurprisingly, packed to the brim with Wessex soldiers. Uhtred was an outlaw, after all, leaving his estate abandoned and back under the control of King Alfred. So Freydis was left to wonder how exactly they would approach this township if they could easily be seized, imprisoned, and executed.

 They approached a large wooden building in the city-square, surrounded by wagons of grain and protective Wessex guards, "Stand aside," Uhtred ordered, "I want no bloodshed, no man killed." When no one listened, Uhtred tilted his head back toward Sihtric.

"He said stand aside! Now!" The Dane shouted. The guards standing outside Coccham's great hall moved out of the way and Sihtric stepped forward. "Thank you, I should not need to raise my voice."

 When the doors opened, Freydis was overtaken by the overbearing scents of chopped vegetables and sweat. Dining in the center of the room amidst two long tables were priests dressed in identical cloaks, a particularly wrinkly-faced man sat at the head of the table, "Uhtred? What is the meaning of this invasion?"

"This is my home." Uhtred shrugged.

The balting priest stood up, not backing down ahead of the infamous Dane-slayer, "We are here by right, on the king's business."

Uhtred scoffed, "You are stealing food from the mouths of the poor."

The priest bore a disgruntled expression, "An army needs to be fed."

Freydis glanced to the table ahead, frowning in disgust, "As do priests, it seems."

Skade withdrew the saex from Freydis' weapons belt and stuck it into the bowl of a bald-headed priest. "You are lucky it is not your hand." She smugly grinned, trouncing around the table curiously of Coccham.

The head priest placed a hand on Uhtreds shoulder, "We want no disharmony here today," Uhtred immediately shrugged his hand off, disgusted by the attempted show of friendliness.

Freydis looked in a bowl of food constructed by the priests; upon inspection, she could identify grain, carrots, lettuce, and fish and she cringed at the odd assortment of foods. She was brought back to attention when Uhtred inquired, "What is that?" She turned, and looked toward where the entire room was looking, hanging from the ceiling ahead a triangle-shaped window was a large silver cross with the carving of a strange man along its bridges.

The priest frowned in response, "Well, you know what it is."

"Take it down." When no one made a move, he turned back to the priest. "Take it down or I will make a gift of you to Skade!"

The priest hesitated, "I will not do as you ask. I cannot."

Freydis stepped forward, inspecting him closely as she flicked the identical wooden cross hanging over his chest, "Why?"

He stepped away from her, "Who even are you?"

Finan stepped ahead of Uhtred, "Lord, see it as a piece of wood, nothing more."

The priest contradicted the Irishmans statement, "It is a holy cross!"

Finan groaned, "Bishop Erkenwald, I suggest yu' shut yu'r holy mouth."

"And take it down." Uhtred stated, most likely imagining the priest strung up instead of the Christian trinket.

 Osferth raised a finger, "Or I... I can just take it down, Lord."

 Uhtred turned to him, "You will do nothing."

Bishop Erkenwald gulped anxiously, "I realize you are looking to find a reason to kill me," he stated, "and I would prefer to do as you ask. I'm not a fool, but I cannot deny my faith. The king will hear of it. God would know of–"

 Sihtric knocked a copper cup against the wood of the table and Freydis turned to see him offering her a cup. Hesitantly, she moved over to sit across from him and took a whiff of the substance inside. Her eyes widened at the scent of wine, which she eagerly sipped after drinking nothing but water and ale since leaving Linnasburgh. "The king has told me many times that this is a pagan's hall," Uhtred told the bishop, his conversation uninterrupted. "You will take it down."

"It is my cross, Lord." Said a new voice, a female voice. Freydis raised her head curiously, spotting a yellow-haired woman standing cloaked at the enterance of the feast hall. "My doing. I put it there. And I would like it to remain there, unless of course, your plan is to once again be the Lord of Coccham. I meant no insult."

There was a grunt and the cross came crashing down. Multiple priests made the symbol of a cross over their chest, followed by Finan who looked down at the hunk of steel in alarm. Freydis laughed, glancing between Skade, who was the culprit of the falling cross, and Sihtric who was equally as amused as a non-Christian himself. "Now, perhaps, we may eat." She said, bored.

Uhtred sighed, nodding for Finan to lift up the fallen cross and hand it to a priest. "Take it," he stated. "And get out of my hall."

The newly-arrived Coccham occupants proceeded to eat the works of the priests, Freydis found it quite palatable, if not for the slimy fish grimed with grain chunks and whatever scales failed to wash off before it was chopped up into the salad. Once they were finished, Uhtred left the hall with the Coccham abbess Freydis learned to be called Hild. Sihtric left to inspect his home, or at least, what was left of it after being gone for so long, and Osferth returned to Cocchams makeshift church to catch up on prayer following his travels with "blasphemeous sinners" for so long. That left Finan and Freydis alone with Skade, which did not last long before Finan rolled his eyes and left the establishment following a particular statement from the  seer.

Freydis soon followed, jogging to catch up to the Irishman, "Where will I stay?" She inquired, matching her pace to his. "Is there an inn close?" He shrugged, quickening his pace, so she slapped him on the arm. "What is wrong with you, Finan?"

"Nothing," he gruffed, "I don't know if the inn is still open, okay? Last I remember it was in the midsts of closing down. Yu' can stay at my house, I have an extra room."

"Oh, well, okay..." she said, cringing at her own hostility. "But why have you been so rude to me? We have not spoken for nearly two days! And when I try to talk to you, you don't bloody talk back!"

Finan approached a door to a small two-bedroom home with a miniature straw pasture for a horse, and turned the knob. The door opened, and he directed her inside. "I'm sorry, Freydis. I hadn't realized I've been botherin' yu'."

"Well I have, you bastard!" She shouted, "this is a beautiful home, by the way. I hadn't known you had an affiliation for decoration."

"I've not been feelin' well." He gruffed, taking off his cloaks and lying them onto a table. "Guest room is over there," he said, pointing toward a dark hall. "Use yu'r cloak for furs, lost all my other ones bettin'."

Freydis raised the back of her hand to his forehead, "You do not feel warm, is it thought sickness or body sickness?" He shrugged, turning. Freydis frowned, "You do understand that answers me, yes?"

"I'm just tired, Freydis," he said, smiling softly. He reached his hand outward and caressed his thumb over her cheekbone, "plus, I don' like boats very much."

 Finan retracted his hand as she went wide-eyed, covering her mouth in shock. "Gods, Finan! I forgot about that, I am so sorry!"

He rolled his eyes, "It is not yu'r curse to bare, Freydis. I'll be fine, everything will be back to normal the next time yu' see me."

"The next time I see you?"

He cringed, "Uhtred is sending Sihtric and I to Winchester," he said. "He wants us to spy."

"We've only just got here!" She said angrily. "I must speak to him, I will tell him you are not feeling well, Finan. I will take your place!"
  
Finan reached his hand out and Freydis half-expected him to stop her. Instead, he softly placed his hand against her jaw and redirected her fury into his lips. For a moment, she was taken aback by the kiss, at first it was warm and accepting, to which her soft lips fell easily into rhythm with his much rougher margin. However, they swiftly became suffocating and grandiose as his scent of ash and mint grew sodden with memories of Skjord Arinbjornsson and his unkindliness. She pushed away from the kiss, stumbling back with wide eyes as her vision muddled with images of both Skjolrd and Finan. He watched her worriedly, "I'm sorry," he said, "I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry, Freydis. Truly, you have to believe me."

Freydis' heart beat from her chest to her ears. She then took a slow step forward as Finan's face ceased to flicker and stayed just as it was: Finan, her friendly Irishman and great friend. She reached her arm out, caressing his cheek as his breath quickened, "It is okay," she lowly stated, "I wasn't expecting it, that is all. I hope your sorrow does not persist."

He softly chuckled, looking down to his feet before looking back in her eyes, "It doesn't, but yu' appeared disgusted so it seemed fit to say I regret it."

"I was disgusted, but not by you." She said, frowning. "I appear to not have yet healed from what Skjord did to me. I wish nothing more than to adhere by whatever this is, alas I'm haunted by my tormenter."

The Irishmans brows scrunched in vexation, "I will kill him."

"No," she smiled, "I will."

His features softened as he pet the hair behind her ear, "Yu' will," he corrected. "There is no worse damnation than a woman scorned."

Freydis nodded, running her fingers over his calloused palms with a slight frown on her face, "I hope you will wait for me, Finan. Until I am free of the curse of my tormenter, until I can be the woman you-so desire."

"Forever and always, m'lady," he grinned, enclosing his fingers around hers. "For I am a gentleman."

Freydis laughed, "Is that so?"

"Indeed," He smirked, "do yu' disagree?"

"I do," she chortled, "you weren't exactly kind telling me I must leave my horse behind."

He piqued a brow, "Wasn't I?"

 She rolled her eyes, lifting his cloak from the table and throwing it in his face. "No, Finan. No you were not, and there is your payback!"

"Grueling," The Irishman mused, "truly."

"Hush." She said, turning away and moving toward the guest bedroom. "Or else I shall rethink my feelings for you."

He smirked, "Yu'r feelings for me?"

"Quiet!"

°ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

Posted: 12:28:2021
Words: 3,740