Moon-Heart | The Last Kingdom |

9.

It had been two weeks after the first attack on the castle by Edward. The hostages had heard the news from the guards outside the door. It was a relief to know that Wessex was trying to make an attack to take back Winchester, but the walls were built to be unbreachable. Words alone would not gain back the fortress, more action would needed to be taken. But at the same time Edward needed to be more thoughtful with what he did, Sigtryggr was like no Dane he had ever faced. With the time passing, the hostages were growing weaker and weaker, with limited water and burnt bread severed once in a while. If this was to be kept up, Aelswith feared that one of the children would fall soon, or worse her. If she were to fall, then Aethelstan and Saehild would be thrown to the wolves. It was clear that Aethelhelm and Aelflaed had no care for the two in any positive way. If it came to it, Aelswith was sure that they would sacrifice them, if it meant that they would get to live.

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Saehild laid her head on the lap of Aelswith tired and thirsty. It had been two days now and no one had come by with anything. The burnt bread wasn't tasteful but she had grown to deal with the it, the grain filled her stomach and she was grateful for that. Closing her eye and drifting off, the door swung open to a tall Danish guard strapped with a large sword. At first, the hostages were elicited, thinking that he had come with more food and water, but that he did not.

"Give me the girl." he order.

Aelswith pulled Saehild off her lap and held her close, "No!"

Without words, the guard walked to the small child and preyed her out of Aelswith grip. He lifted Saehild off the ground by her armpits, while she flung her legs around trying to get him to drop her, but it was no use. He was much taller and stronger then her. Easily, he tucked her under his arm and shut the door tight before any of the others could protest more. Once the door shut, Aelswith let out a worried grunt. Were they to kill the girl for Edward's actions? She would believe it with they're heathen ways, but Saehild was too young, how could a man the kill a child. Her fate was no longer in Aelswith's hands, she was lost to whatever may be going on outside the chapel.

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"The girl, Lord." the Dane aggressively pushed Saehild into the chamber.

Sigtryggr turned his back around to look at the small child. Moving to the side, he reviled that Stiorra was also there. Scared, Saehild did not run to the young women she saw as a sister, but instead stood in her spot. She had no idea what was happening, the hostages had been left alone for so long, Saehild thought that they may have forgotten about them. Seeing the fear, Stiorra pushed pass Sigtryggr and bent down to hug the girl. Saehild latched on to her trying not to cry, she had missed her very much fearing that she might be dead.

Pushing her hair back Stiorra stood, moving out of the way for the Dane to talk, "Hello," he bent down to her level not to intimidate her, "I am Sigtryggr. What is your name?"

"I'm called Saehild." she croaked.

"Of?"

"Of Mercia."

"Ah, Saehild of Merica." he smiled, "I am not going to harm you. Stiorra tells me that you are special, not like the others. She tells me that you, are half Dane also."

Stiorra looked down to Saehild has her chest tightened, "It's ok, he can be trusted. Show him." Saehild pulled up her dress and pull the dagger out of her boot, handing it to the man. Sigtryggr inspected the the handle seeing the special symbolizes carved in. He looked up to Stiorra's pleading eyes. What she had told him was true, Saehild was indeed half Dane. There was no other way that she could have such a weapon. By the clean lines, he could tell they were made by a woman's hands. This was not a warrior's dagger, but that of a proud Danish woman.