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CHAPTER IV:

✧. ⋆ salt, sea, scars

     𝕬 SHOUT LEFT HER LIPS as the clang of steel meeting steel echoed through the camp. The men cheered and the sound was like a wave breaking against her bones. She couldn't help but grin at her opponent as he tried to gather his balance. Young Ragnar had challenged her to a friendly competition to test her skills with a sword. Soon, however, the entire encampment had gathered around to watch. Some were cheering for their Lady, while others encouraged Ragnar. She had spotted Bjorn standing at the sidelines with Kara at his side, the two of them exchanging bets as they watched their friends test each other's skill.

She was no longer the little girl who'd climbed to sit on top of Ragnar's shoulders. She had learned her way with a sword and did not fear to show him that. He had been surprised by her skills at first but had soon managed to regain himself. Eldrid had lost track of time as they exchanged blows. At times it seemed like he might win, only for the battle to turn around in her favor seconds later.

Autumn and winter came and went while they had tried to find Sverri but every path came to a dead end. Eventually they'd made the choice to set up camp for the winter and try again to find the slaver in the spring. Ragnar had tried his hardest to keep searching but with the days growing colder and the snow blocking the main roads, they had been forced to set up camp and built shelters. Eldrid understood the Dane's pain. She too wanted nothing more than to find her family. It'd been strange to see the roles reversed, with her pleading for rest for the men while Ragnar endlessly tried to find information that might help them. It'd almost made her pity the burden placed on her brother's shoulders all these years when he tried to keep her in check.

To distract himself from the thought of having failed his brother, Ragnar tried to keep busy with playing games, holding tournaments and drinking until his legs could no longer hold him. And now, as the days slowly grew warmer again, he had dared to challenge the Lady of Death herself. But they were very evenly matched and both were growing tired of the seemingly endless fight. However, just as Ragnar readied himself to attack her once again, she finally saw her opening. He had forgotten to protect his left side and so she brought her leg up and kicked him against his thigh. He tumbled down and she was on top of him within seconds, pressing her blade against his throat.

For a moment he lay there, catching his breath while the crowd stayed silent. Then a booming laugh left his lips and the men surrounding them broke out into loud cheers.

Eldrid grinned at him and removed her sword from his throat, then got back to her feet and offered him her hand, helping him stand up again.

"You are quite the warrior, Lady Eldrid," Ragnar said, a wide smile on his face.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Or maybe you're just getting old."

Her men broke out into laughter while Ragnar faked a wounded expression. He pointed his finger at her. "Well, this old man can still drink.' He turned to the crowd and held his hands high. 'Bring on the ale!" Another loud cheer erupted through the encampment.

"My Lady!" Beneath the loud cheers of the men, Eldrid caught a voice desperately trying to get her attention. "Lady Eldrid!"

Her eyes found Brør, making his way through the crowd, a man she'd put on watch near one of the beaches she suspected Sverri might land if he were to make his way back to England. She hit Ragnar on his shoulder to gain his attention and he followed her as she made her way over to him. His face was red, as though he had made haste to reach them.

"Speak," she ordered as soon as she reached him.

"A ship is making harbor on the beach. They have slaves aboard," Brør said as he tried to catch his breath.

Her gaze flickered to Ragnar, whose features had hardened. "Could it be Sverri?" She questioned.

"Let's find out," the Dane spoke before turning to his men. "No more Ale! We prepare to make our way to battle! I want every man on his horse!"

Eldrid made her way through the dispersing crowd towards her tent. She was already wearing her armor and sword from the sparring session earlier, all she needed were a few more of her knives, which she hid in multiple layers of her leather armor. Lastly she put on her cloak before heading outside, towards the stables.

Hild was waiting for her, holding the reins of her horse ready. The two weren't exactly friends, but over the months they spent together an understanding had grown between them. Two women having to prove themselves worthy among men created a bond of understanding, grown from the silent glances exchanged whenever another cock measuring contest took place.

Eldrid nodded at her, taking the reins in her own hands before climbing into the saddle. She threw a look over her shoulder, watching as her men stood ready behind her. Ragnar directed his horse next to hers, the two exchanging a look. This could be it, the moment he'd find his brother again, something she'd dreamed of for years now. She inhaled deeply and gestured at him to give the signal.

"We ride!" He shouted and he wasn't even finished before Eldrid had spurred on her horse.

They rode through the green landscape towards the beach. After having spent most of the winter here, Eldrid knew the lands like the back of her own hand. She led their man over small roads and through green fields. Her heart was beating like a war drum in her chest. It was possible the slaver who Brør had spotted wasn't even Sverri, they had after all no idea what the Dane looked like. But if Jonis had spoken the truth all those months ago, Sverri would be back here sooner or later and she refused to let him escape.

As they approached the dunes, Ragnar lifted his hand, making their group come to a halt. "We need to be sure, or word of our intentions will spread and Sverri will never show himself," Ragnar said.

Eldrid nodded. "Then let's make sure." She got down from her horse, watching as Ragnar did the same. Together they made their way up the hill, staying low in the high grass surrounding them. Crawling forward on her arms, she managed a look over the hill, watching the camp that was set up before them. Tents were scattered around the sandy hills, a ship lying anchored in the sea. A row of men, slaves, were standing by one of the tents. Even from this distance she could see their bones through their skin and it made fury flare up inside of her.

In front of the slaves stood a few men who looked like warriors, not like the usual buyers who were present at these auctions. One of them was wearing an eye patch, looking very pleased with himself as he talked to one of the slaves.

Beside her, Ragnar tensed, his hand going to his sword as he watched the scene unfold. "One-eyed Sven," he growled beneath his breath.

Her eyes went back to the Dane as he challenged one of the slaves, handing him a sword. She had heard stories of Sven Kjartansson and his father Kjartan the Cruel. How they bullied, plundered and dishonored their people. She also heard the story of how Kjartan was banished, when Sven had looked at Thyra Ragnarsdottir's nakedness. And as her eyes went back to Thyra's brother beside her, she could see him trembling with the rage of those memories.

The slave challenged by Sven the One Eye stumbled forwards with the sword in his hand. But he had no strength left to even do as little as stand and he fell before he could attempt to land a strike. As he fell, they caught a glimpse of his face and Ragnar was on his feet immediately, running back to his horse. Judging by the fury on his face, Eldrid had no doubt that they had, at last, found Uhtred Ragnarsson. She got back on her feet and ran towards her own horse, climbing back into the saddle as fast as she could.

Ragnar lifted his sword as a battle cry filled with an earth-shattering rage left his lips. He urged their men forward, the heavy fall of hooves thundering in the sky as they broke out into the clearing. Eldrid had taken her own sword in her hand, screaming as she charged at one of the slavers, striking him down before he could even think about running away.

In the distance she could see Sven's men attempting to escape and she reached for one of her knives. She held the blade between her fingers, drew back her arm and released the blade, watching as it turned end over end in the air before finally finding its target. Her knife landed in one of the escaping men's neck, bringing him down.

Another one was killed by an arrow fired by one of her men while Steapa brought down his axe into the belly of another. Her eyes searched the clearing for any foes left, before finally landing on a man in a blue tunic, attempting to make an escape towards the boat still anchored in the sea.

"Sverri," she growled, jumping down from her horse. She sprinted across the clearing and as she reached the slaver, she kicked him against the legs, bringing him down on his knees. With a shout of a rage she lifted her sword, revelling in the fear flashing through his eyes, but instead of killing him, she merely pressed the blade against his throat, holding him captive as she watched Ragnar getting down from his own horse. Every vein inside of her screamed to simply slit Sverri's throat and it took her every bit of willpower to remind herself that she needed him alive, he might be the last person who knew where her mother and sister were.

"Uhtred?" Ragnar called out as he walked up towards the slaves, who had been watching with wide eyes as the battle came to a quick end. "Uhtred!" He came to a halt in front of the slave who was still seated on the ground. His hair was tangled and dirty, his face covered in burns and cuts. But his eyes looked the worst of all, void of life and strength, instead filled with ghosts of horrors that had haunted him during his time in captivity.

Carefully, as though approaching a rapid animal, Ragnar knelt down in front of his brother. "It's me," he spoke softly. "It's me, Ragnar."

For a moment Uhtred simply looked at Ragnar, as though he couldn't truly see him standing before him. Until finally recognition flashed across his face. "Ragnar?" He mumbled, his voice breaking as he let himself fall into his brother's embrace. He clung to his brother's arm as he sobbed. The sound cut through her bones and made her wince from the raw pain that echoed through the whimpers.

Ragnar held him tightly, a pained smile on his features. "Did you believe we would abandon you?" He questioned then he gestured towards the rest of his men. "Free them all."

Several men walked forward and broke the chains holding the slaves in place. Eldrid turned away, focusing her attention on the man she was holding captive. "Do you know who I am?" She hissed, her tone venomous.

Sverri nodded, his entire body trembling. "I-I do, my Lady. I can tell you where your family is," he muttered. "But you must swear to spare me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but movement caught her attention. She lifted her gaze and watched one of the slaves as he came to a halt few feet away from her, his eyes focused on the slaver in her grasp, utter hatred burning in his eyes. For a second she watched him, his dark hair and scarred face before moving her gaze back to Sverri.

"Tell me where my family is," she snarled, pressing the blade closer against his skin.

"Swear you will not harm me," Sverri replied, resistance burning in his eyes.

She inhaled sharply to calm herself and then answered: "I swear to any god willing to listen to your plea that I will not harm you. Now speak."

For a moment the man stared at her, as though not quite believing her words but when her gaze darkened with impatience he quickly opened his mouth. "Kjartan, my lady. Your mother and sister were bought by Kjartan."

Her heart hammered in her chest at the mention of the name. Finally, after years of searching she had a solid lead on where her family had been taken to. As it turned out, Ragnar the Fearless' children weren't the only ones who had a blood feud with Kjartan. "You swear this is the truth?" She questioned.

"I swear, my Lady," Sverri spoke, his eyes holding no trace of a lie.

She lowered her sword. "Good." Then she turned around and walked up to the slave, holding out her sword to him. "He is yours to kill."

"My lady you swore!" Sverri cried out as the man before her took the hilt in his hands.

She turned around to the slaver. "I swore I would do you no harm, I said nothing of this man."

Sverri got back on his feet, attempting to run away, but the dark haired man was faster, placing the tip of the sword against the Dane's throat. His entire body was trembling, tears of rage and the taste of freedom crawling down his cheeks. Then he pushed the blade forward, skewering Sverri's throat.

"Pull," he snarled.

With the splattering of crimson blood, he pulled the sword back and Sverri dropped to the ground, dead. A shaking laugh left his lips as he turned in a small circle, looking around as though he had woken up from a horrible nightmare. Finally free.

Then his eyes fell on Eldrid and he slowly walked over, holding out her sword. She reached out and took it, holding his gaze as he seemed to search for words. "I suppose I should thank you." He was irish, she realized then, a long way from home.

"He deserved to fall at the hands of those he wronged," she replied. Then she turned around and made her way over towards her brother, fire burning in her heart at the sight of this new path laid out before her.

―♛―

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey guys!

I realise it's been a long while since I updated this story. While I will always love this show, I just wasn't as obsessed with it anymore and so I decided to put my energy into writing for my other fanfictions. But I recently rewatched the show with my little sister, because she wanted something new and was interested in watching The Last Kingdom. And that rewatch completely refuelled my love for this show! Which means I got back into writing and this chapter was finally finished.

Eldrid and Finan met! I was so excited to write this scene and I'm really proud of how it turned out. One really has to be careful when it comes to Eldrid because she really does not play around when it comes to promises and words ;) She choses to be very specific with what she says and it's honestly so fun to write.

Can't wait to get into the rest of the season!

xx nelly