Blasphemy [Finan the Agile]

CHAPTER xiv 'Pull Like A Darn Slave!'

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."