Warriors at Heart (The Last Kingdom Fanfic)

Chapter 64

An arrow whizzed by my head and into the fabric near my ear. My fingers itched to let loose my concealed dagger in response, but I refrained, knowing if I was meant to be dead I would be. Svein was testing me, clearly in the mood to play games.

I looked from the arrow to him, a smile breaking out on my face as I stared down the regal Dane. "Nice to see you as well." I strode further into the tent, making clear he did not intimidate me.

His lip curled up as his dark eyes watched my every move. "Tara Melgaard. Bold move to walk into my camp fully armed." His calloused hands placed his bow onto the table between us. "Please, sit." 

I did as I was bid, and he stared at me a moment longer before seating himself across from me. Despite now sitting, his figure remained tall and loomed over me. 

"Ale?" he asked.

"Please," I replied.

A serving girl, most likely a slave, moved out of the corner and hurriedly placed down a pitcher and two cups before departing from the tent. 

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He asked, taking a sip.

"I heard you were in these parts," I replied, taking a drink. "I figured I'd come see what the great Svein of Denmark was doing."

Svein could not hide his amusement at my words and half scoffed, half smiled. "Did you now?"

"Aye."

Svein continued to watch me over the rim of his cup. "Did Alfred send you?"

Curse the gods. He knew more than I had expected. The urge to bolt was strong, but I did not give into my flight instinct. "Alfred who? The so called king that Earl Guthrum and my lord Ragnar so easily squashed?" I spat vehemently. 

Svein's eyes began to gleam, and I was sure he knew more than he let on. "And what of Uhtred Ragnarson? The two of you travel together if I am not mistaken."

"Aye. We did."

"Did?"

"Uhtred has lost his way," I replied.

"So you have left the daneslayer then?"

"Is that what they're calling him?" I took another sip of my ale. "An appropriate name."

"Indeed." Svein continued to watch me. His eyes growing more soulless by the minute.

"They say Alfred is cowering here in these marshes," I said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"So I've heard."

"I know where he is." Svein's eyes lit up at my words. I continued, "I assume you have not yet made an alliance with Earl Guthrum, or if you have, he's given you a very unfair task, keeping you encamped in these damp marshes while he lives like a king in the comfort and shelter of Wessex."

"Svein of Denmark serves no one," he firmly retorted. "And if I had, I certainly would not take orders from a lowly cowardly snake like Guthrum."

"Let me help you then lord. Do what Guthrum was unable to do. Capture Alfred and you crush the spirit of the Saxons. Mercia will fall next, and then the south will be the new Daneland."

Svein took at long swing of ale. "Your offer is tempting. But what do you want in return?"

"I have no love for Guthrum. I have no love for Alfred. And I have a raging hatred of Kjartan Kjartanson who cowers in the north."

"A blood vengeance?"

"Aye."

"In return you would have me help you kill this Kjartan?"