Warriors at Heart (The Last Kingdom Fanfic)

Chapter 71

Barth and I silently rode, side by side, behind Ragnar, Brida, and Guthrum. I caught Ragnar glancing back with his brow raised in amusement and glared at him. If we weren't upon horses I would've whacked him.

We hadn't made it very far when when our party was halted by a scout riding hard towards us. "Lord Guthrum! Lord Guthrum!" The man panted.

"Speak man!" Guthrum ignored any of the usual formalities.

"Danes my lord, about four miles ahead. Their lord wants to speak with you."

"How many?" Ragnar asked.

"A thousand at most."

Guthrum's eyes lit up. "I suppose the gods favor us today," he smirked at Ragnar before returning his attention back on the scout. "Who is their lord?"

"A man named Skorpa my lord."

"Have you heard of this Skorpa before?" Guthrum asked Ragnar.

"I don't believe I have," Ragnar replied.

"Is there any open ground between us?" Guthrum asked the scout.

"Aye lord. About two miles up."

"Excellent. Have this Skorpa meet us there," Guthrum stroked his beard.

"Yes lord." The scout rode off in great haste.

Guthrum ordered the men to follow, but given they were a mass army, the marched at a slower pace. Ragnar, Brida, Barth, a couple other men in Guthrum's household troops, and I rode ahead to meet the mysterious Dane lord who called himself Skorpa.

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I glanced around the open field, looking for anywhere an ambush could hide. I saw nothing. Our scout was already waiting with a group of about ten Danes behind him. The Danes had already dismounted, showing either that they did not come to fight, or they were so confident they could kill us on our mounts.

"Seven against ten, I like our odds," Ragnar joked.

"Eight if you include our scout," I chuckled.

"Earl Guthrum," Skorpa greeted, bowing low.

I studied the wavy hair Dane. His face was thin, his eyes crazed yet ever watchful. His men looked equally crazed, and I wondered if he had any berserkers in his ranks.

"Lord Skorpa, I believe we have not had the pleasure of meeting," Guthrum greeted, refusing to dismount.

"The pleasure is all mine," Skorpa taunted.

"What brings you to Wessex?" Ragnar asked.

"Earl Ragnar," Skorpa tilted his head. His eyes shifted from each of us, landing on me. A chill ran through me. Those eyes.

"Tara Melgaard. Your reputation proceeds you," he practically hissed. All eyes turned towards me.

"I'm afraid I'm at a disadvantage, as I know nothing about you," I smirked.

"You killed my cousin," he beamed at me. I could feel all eyes on me.

"Oops," I replied, wondering who his cousin was.

"I owe you my thanks. My cousin was a beast of man."

As it turned out, Svein had been Skorpa's cousin and the two were less than familiar so in the end there was no blood to be had.

"Lord Guthrum, I have come to join you. I bring one thousand men."

Guthrum seemed amused by Skorpa's proposal and finally dismounted. Ragnar followed suit. The three lords began negotiations about who would get what. Guthrum would remain king of East Anglia and Wessex, Skorpa would get Mercia, and Ragnar would be aided in his blood feud against Kjartan in our homeland north.