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Yrsa was tired, so tired. She had been riding for hours, not slowing or stopping, as she came South and into Cumbraland. She was trying to put as much distance between her and her now ruined home.
"Almost there," She whispered to her horse, a shire that she called Beast. Her father had gifted her the large bay before he took her to her first battle. He told her that the horse would keep her safe, protect her and guide her when she needed him to.
As he had said, the bay had guided her down through the hills and the rocks, past streams and pools, slowing when Yrsa had grown tired, protecting her when the teen had slept. He kept her safe on the long journey, and Yrsa wasn't sure that she would have got there in one piece if not for her animal.
In her mind, she thought that maybe her father's spirit was part of the horse, that her parents were watching her from Valhalla through the eyes of the four legged equine. It provided her some comfort.
"I'll shall find you food and a nice treat when we get there, Beastie,"
There was a snort in response, as Yrsa sat up straight and fiddled with her metal armbands, her nerves getting the best of her. She was walking into enemy territory now, as Saxons and Danes were far from friends.
Houses were starting to pop up, golden rooves catching the light, and Yrsa could smell food in the air; meat, stew, baking bread and sugary fruits. Her stomach twisted and growled, protesting the lack of food that it had recieved.
But Yrsa ignored it and rode on, until she reached a large meadow. It lay in front of a town, guards in front of the entrance, leaning on their spears. Yrsa chewed on her lips, hoping that she had reached the right place.
"State your name and business," The guard wore no mail, and if Yrsa so desired she would be able to kill him in moments but the girl was coming there peacefully, not to start a fight she would not win. She just needed help and protection.
"My name is Yrsa Sturldottir," She replied, before easing her aching body off of the large horse that she rode, leaving her weapons on top of it. Her legs protested at being used, but Yrsa stood up straight. She would not show weakness in front of the Saxons. "I wish to speak to your king and the Dane Slayer."
Brushing auburn curls from her hair, Yrsa used Beast for support and strength as a guard ran off to go and find who she called for. The stares of the villagers were piercing, judging her clothing, the metal armbands and wrist guards and her unruly hair. She did not look Saxon, in fact, Yrsa looked like she came from the Scots instead of her Danish heritage. Before Yrsa could turn and bare her teeth at the unwanted watchers, a man appeared from the townstead and jogged across the meadow to reach her.
"I am Uhtred of Bebbanburg or the Dane Slayer," Yrsa stopped, turning to look at the man approaching her. He was handsome, she'd give him that, with long hair pulled away from his face. A woman, with a cross round her neck, and another soldier followed behind him, and Yrsa licked her lips before stepping forward.
"Lord. My name is Yrsa Sturldottir," She bowed her head, watching him with cautious eyes. She was a Dane after all and Uhtred's nickname 'Dane Slayer' did not put her at ease. How was she to know whether or not he would kill her where she stood? "I come from..."
Yrsa trailed off, unsure of what to say. She was no longer from her home, which had been taken from her, so who was she without her heritage?
"I know of your father. Sturl?" Yrsa nodded, as Uhtred saved her from the embarrassment. "Why are you here? Your home is up North, if I remember correctly."
"To offer you my allegiance, my weapons, my help," Yrsa replied, her eyes wide and pleading. She needed him to believe her. "I am a Shield Maiden of the North and I offer to help you."
"Why?"
"My home was raided and razed to the ground by soldiers belonging to Kjartan," Uhtred sighed, walking towards her. The teenager took a deep breath, before continuing in as steady a voice as she could manage. "My mother wished to come south and swear her allegiance, both of our allegiance, but she died before that could happen. I'm here to honour her dying wish."
"I see," He rested a hand on her shoulder, nodding his head as if he understood her pain. "You are with us then, under my protection. You serve in King Guthred's army."
Yrsa held her tongue at the thought of serving a Saxon, bowing her head and nodding. She would do this for her mother and if serving a Saxon was what that took, she would gladly do it.
"Thank you, Lord," She replied, exhaustion finally kicking in. "Thank you so much."
"Get your horse to a stable and then we shall find you bed and food," He commanded, as Yrsa grabbed the reins of her horse, her legs almost giving way. Uhtred seemed to notice, turning to face the woman. "Hild, go with her."
"Yes, Lord," The nun, a small woman with blonde hair and a kind face, stepped forward, smiling at Yrsa. "I'll show you the way."
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The food, whilst not the best, filled Yrsa's belly with a warmth that she had not felt for a while, especially whilst not riding. The nun, Hild, sat on her other side, watching her with a warm smile. Yrsa wasn't sure what it was, but she assumed it was something to do with her being one of the youngest women at their camp. Most were older, married, or of betrothal age but Yrsa was still young.
"How old are you, Yrsa?" The girl looked up, quickly chewing down the remainder of her food as she nodded at the woman. As far as Saxons went, Hild seemed nice. Yrsa could not say the same for the king, who she had taken one look at and immediately thought of him as a turd. "You don't look older than fifteen."
"Seventeen, Lady," Yrsa grinned, as Hild raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"And you have fought in battles?"
"Of course, Lady," Yrsa held her bowl out for more food, grinning as Hild obliged. "My father had no sons, and I am a girl so I had to prove myself as a warrior twice as well so that the men would listen to me and follow me when I took over my home."
"I see," Hild said. Yrsa wasn't convinced though her food drew her attention away, chewing down on the meat. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No, Lady," Yrsa smiled again, nodding her head. "I will finish and then sleep. I am now protected, am I not?"
"Of course you are," Hild replied, as Yrsa finished her food and stood once more, heading towards the room where furs lay waiting for her. Her weapons were beside the pack, and Yrsa sighed as she saw them, reaching out to touch the wooden bow.
She was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, in a Saxon land where she was a Dane. You could never be too careful with people, especially men who knew not to keep their hands to themselves.
When her eyes finally fluttered closed, Yrsa dreamed of the flames and the smoke, the arrow piercing her mother's stomach and nothing else. All she could see beneath her eyelids was flickering red and gold, marred with blood and mud.
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Hiya,
It's been a while but have another chapter of this one. Yrsa is just a sweetheart and I also love Hild, so we'll be getting more of their friendship soon. Votes and comments are appreciated.
