Blood Moon| The Last Kingdom| Sihtric Kjartansson

TWENTY-EIGHT

☾

We sat around a fire in the woods, the night sky casting shadows over our faces.

The aftermath of the battle hung heavy over us.

Uhtred and Finan had burned the bodies of Sigurd's men, but we had let Sigurd himself live as a hostage that we kept bound between two trees.

Olav was still in the pit, but right before the moon rose, I had heard the first beat of his heart return as Yggdrasil breathed life back into his body.

The men did not fear me, but Saga avoided me. She believed I had done something evil. She believed that I had played with the line between life and death unjustly. 

Saga had returned to Cetreht right after Sigurd was captured, declaring she wished to tend to the horses and be with her thoughts. I did not stop her.

"Lady," Osferth cleared his throat quietly, breaking the silence of the night as he shuffled on the tree stump we sat on. "I do not know how to do this,"

Sihtric sat in front of Osferth, the side of his head shaved now, and the other side of his hair loose. He'd sustained a cut to the head so he'd shaved his hair to let Osferth clean it and apply tree sap he'd drained from a nearby tree.

"I have never braided anyone's hair before," Osferth explained quietly, "do you know how to?"

"Osferth," Sihtric sighed, shifting forward, "do not bother her. She is tired—"

"I am not," I cut him off, my voice coming out faster and louder than I intended, so I coughed, lowering it, "I am not tired. I can help."

We had eaten in silence, cleaned in silence, and thought in silence; I needed something to keep myself sane.

I always knew I was powerful, as my mother had been too, but I did not know that I had the strength to demand an exchange of souls. It was a new feeling, knowing that I could be this dangerous, but I had to accept it readily.

It helped that Uhtred and his men made sure to pretend that nothing had changed.

Osferth rose up as I did, changing places with me so I could sit behind Sihtric.

I touched Sihtric's shoulder, urging him to lean back slightly, "It is quite simple." I started to divide sections of Sihtric's hair, still damp from the short trip the men had taken to the village to bathe.

"In Wessex, most men keep their hair short," Osferth mumbled, "so there is no need to braid it. They think it is cleaner that way."

I hummed in response, taking a bit of Sihtric's hair and splitting it again into three sections, "Do Saxons not only bathe once a month? They should worry about that more than their hair."

The men around the fire snorted quietly, and Uhtred reached out to poke the fire with a stick, the small smile on his face growing visible to me.

"I think," Osferth whispered softly, "some bathe more often, but you are right."

"I am often right," I threw him a small smile, completing the first of Sihtric's braids. "Now," I turned the braid to Osferth, "do you understand how it is done?"

Orange light danced across Osferth's face as he smiled gently, "Yes, Lady, I understand."

I nodded curtly, standing up again, "Then, you will show me what you have learnt."

Osferth snorted but shuffled behind Sihtric anyway, "I can not promise good results."

"Just don't rip out any more of my hair," Sihtric groaned playfully, eyeing me as I sat down beside him in the dirt, crossing my legs. "Lady."