Warriors at Heart (The Last Kingdom Fanfic)

Chapter 70

Guthrum was not pleased with Ragnar's plan, but eventually relented after swearing that if I betrayed him, he'd murder everyone I loved in the most gruesome way possible, and then me. I found that funny given the only people I cared for were protected by his need to keep them as allies, or were far out of his reach.

The trip further south was long, made even longer by the incredibly uncomfortable presence of Barth. It took us a couple of days before we found traces of the Saxons. Circular ashy areas and stake sized holes where fires had clearly been lit, and tents pitched. The more signs we saw of activity, the more carefully we tread. Soon we found ourselves on a ridge, looking down into a steep and wide valley. Barth spotted them first. A group of riders on the opposite ridge. We were too far away to make out any of their faces, but their armor indicated Saxon, with the exception of the one man in furs. Uhtred. My heart raced in my chest. In my earlier stages of grief, the thought of killing Uhtred on a battlefield burned in me. Now faced with it, all I felt was dread.

"So their scouts are here," Barth stated the obvious.

"There's too many of them for this to be a scouting party," I observed.

"Hm..."

"They're waiting for something."

"What could they be waiting for?"

Barth's question was quickly answered as we watched groups of men and horses pour into the valley. I glanced behind us, but saw no sign of being surrounded. "Alfred's fyrd," I said. We watched as at least two thousand men poured in to greet one another and serve their king.

"We should go," Barth said.

"Aye. We need to get back to Cippanhamm."

Barth turned his horse and headed back into the cover of the woods. I took one last glance at the amassing army of Saxons, and looked across the ridge once more. I sensed Uhtred knew I was looking at him, for the furred warrior's head lifted and seemed to be looking straight back at me. I nodded to him before turning my horse after Barth.

We rode the beasts hard and arrived back within a day and a half. We quickly dismounted and were followed by Ragnar and Brida into Guthrum's court.

"There better be a good explanation for the two of you barging in here," he complained, not standing to greet us. Despite Guthrum's apparent lack of enthusiasm or concern, I bit my tongue.

"My lord," Barth bowed his head. "The Saxons are coming."

Guthrum sat upright and waved all he deemed unnecessary from the room. "Proceed," he instructed.

"Alfred's one thousand men has become at least three thousand strong," Barth continued.

Gurthrum rubbed his brow, letting out a small sigh. He sat back in his chair. "So? We are five thousand strong."

"With an army of their size they are at least four to five days' march from us. You should ride out to meet them. Ambush them." I interjected.

"Is that what I should do? Or what they want me to do?" Guthrum stubbornly replied.

"Respectfully lord, I agree with Tara, we should ride out and lay claim to the advantage points." Barth tried.

"And what do you think we should do Lord Ragnar?" Guthrum turned. His question a challenge and potential trap to the other Earl.

"Lord Guthrum, I am sworn to follow you and will do as you see fit. However, I do think it would be to our advantage to march out and meet Alfred's army at the place of our choice." Heads nodded throughout the room and Guthrum looked almost disappointed at Ragnar's answer. It was a wise answer. Filled with diplomacy, as well as advice, but not a hint of usurpation. Ravn would've been proud of his grandson indeed.