𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 <𝐬𝐢𝐡𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐤𝐣𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧>

5. 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖋𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖙

Sihtric's horse wasn't fast enough.
The camp was decimated. Dead bodies littered the ground
And Sihtric's horse hadn't been fast enough for him to find Ghylena.

Beocca was wailing, screaming pleas for his wife, Thyra.
Steappa called for the Lady Aethelflaed.
But Sihtric was pacing, scouring the grass for his fiancé; praying to the gods they shared that she was still alive and well enough to be found. His panic sealed his throat, and if he could scream he would, he would yell and shout and beg as well, but he could barely breathe.

He was so engrossed in his desperation that he did not notice Thyra's return, nor the horse she rode atop.

"Sihtric..." Finan had been searching with him, only now he roughly pulled him aside, "Sihtric, look!"
Sihtric followed Finan's arm, allowing his eyes to recognise Shaeda, without his typical rider, and then he was running towards Thyra.

Even Sihtric, as strong and healthy as he was, could not reach Thyra before her husband had, dragging her from Shaeda's back and into his arms.
Finally reaching the group gathered around the priest's wife, Sihtric whispered with wild eyes, "Ghylena?"

Finan took Shaeda's reins, soothing the horse, looking for any sign of his friend, and finding none but her empty scabbard and a splatter of blood that he moved to hide from Sihtric.

Uhtred spoke now, placing a soothing hand on his sister's back as he asked, "Thyra... Thyra? Thyra, where is Aethelflaed? Where is Ghylena?"

"You will answer," Aethelred's voice sparked anger in Sihtric, but again Beocca beat him to the mark.

The priest seethed, "Of course she will answer!"

Sihtric took a tentative step forward then, "Lady, what happened? Where is my... where is Lena?"

"I— I do not know. We ran and... and she, Aethelflaed, was gone. Then Ghylena came, she saved me. 2 men were chasing me, and she killed them. She rescued me, and then, then she went after the Lady." Thyra was breathless and her voice shook, cracking near the end.

Aethelred and his men began planning, sending out search parties for Aethelflaed and yapping orders, but Sihtric didn't care. All he cared about was Lena, and she was gone.

"Which way?" Sihtric gripped his sword in hand now, preparing to search the the forest, Finan and Uhtred preparing similarly.

Uhtred once again pulled Thyra from her reverie, "Thyra, which way did she go?"

Turning towards the forest, the men around her moved to follow her directions before halting in their tracks.
A lean figure, bloodied and unsteady, limped from the tree line.

Sihtric felt his eyes water, then blinked back the tears before sprinting ahead of everyone else. Uhtred and Finan followed behind him, the three men kicking up the mud behind their steps.

He wasn't fast enough.

Ghylena stumbled further out into the camp, her beautiful face and hair coated in a thick layer of blood and ichor. She looked more like a walking corpse than the 'dead man' Bjorn had.
Sihtric called to her, "Lena! Ghylena!"

His fiancé took one more step, her legs gave up, and she collapsed to the ground.
And Sihtric wasn't fast enough to catch her.

<>

Ghylena never expected to find the sounds of a marching army and horses' hooves to be soothing, but in that moment— with her head tucked into Sihtric's neck and his arms around her back, holding her to him— she felt more tired than she ever had.

"Sihtric?" She croaked, her voice scratchy thanks to the purple fingerprints which bloomed on her throat, "Where are we?"

Unaware that she had woken up, Sihtric tightened his grasp on her, afraid to let her go.
"Wessex, huntress," He pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of her head, "We're to leave this army soon and head home to Coccham."