Blasphemy [Finan the Agile]

CHAPTER xxvi. 'Eternal Peace, My Dear'

ﾟ❁ུ۪ °ₒ 𓂂 ˚ 𓂂 ₒ ° ₒ 𓂂 ˚˖⋆

CHAPTER xxvi. 'Eternal Peace, My Dear'

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            When Freydis awoke the next morning, she was forced to depart the men in order to shake loose sand from every crevice of her body. Then, she used the seawater she so-desperately despised the night before to wetten her hair, and make it easier to rip a strayed crabs claw through her knotted locks. When she returned to the men, she looked exceptionally better than she had in the morning —the others were still asleep aside for Uhtred, who both kept watch and planned their hour-to-hour for throughout the day. A small fire crackled, providing warmth to the sleeping Dane beside it whose hair was scarily close to becoming alight. She sat beside the Dane's head, brushing his hair away from the embers before drawing her knees up, and resting her elbow against them. "Have you a plan?"

    Uhtred nodded, "Don't I always?" Freydis glared at him, to which the Dane-slayer shite-eating grin fell. "I'm going to give them another hour, and then we leave for a village called Grimbsy. You should get some more sleep, I doubt Sihtric would mind if you leant against him to keep your hair clean."

    Freydis' harsh expression softened, "You noticed?"

    "Noticed what?"

    The glare found its way back onto the Irish-rogue's exhausted features. "When we return to Coccham, I am going to set your hall alight."

    "I'm only joking, Frey," chortled the Danish Saxon, "I've long hair as well, if you haven't noticed. I washed the sand out when I took watch two hours ago."

    Freydis nodded, "Before Grimbsy, do you mind if we stop at the village those arse's were speaking of yesterday, lord?"

    Uhtred rolled his eyes, "Of course, lady."

    Freydis grinned, and shrugged, "I thought you'd be more likely to say 'yes' if I said it."

    "We need to buy horses, anyway," he said, "we've got a sum of seventy silver gathered from the bodies, and several more bronze-pieces from yesterday's turds. We can get a good meal, fresh pair of clothes, and some fast horses with some left over."

    Freydis nodded, frowning. That day they would be exploiting her mens money, her dead mens money. A flash of Myfanwy's seawater-bloated face shrouded her mind, vanishing just as quickly with a flinch and extra-long blink from the daughter of Linnasburgh. When the Dane's took her from Irland, she was brought with two other Irishman; Myfanwy, and a boy whose name was forgotten with the impression of his face. Both, now, were dead, never to know if Linnasburgh would be re-taken, or able to enjoy its delights if it was. Freydis felt warmth against the back of her hand, and looked up to see Uhtred watching her worriedly. "Are you alright?"