Lady Luck| Finan The Agile| The Last Kingdom

TWENTY-FIVE

☼

"Was this truly necessary?" Harold snapped angrily, his eyes scanning between me and the three men who rode beside me.

"Absolutely," Finan grinned at the pompous, blond bastard.

"It is for safety," Osferth added on softly, trying to ease the tension surrounding us, coiling like a whip and waiting to snap and strike someone.

"I am her brother!" Harold burst out in outrage, "I own a sword! I can get us to Cent safely by myself!"

"Your sword is a toy," Uhtred smirked thinly before he winked at me while I moved my thumb against my fingers in a mouth like motion, mocking Harold.

"I have fought in battles," Harold protested, "I am a soldier." He did not look very confident saying this and I had to assume he had been a warrior the way all noble sons were warriors; they hide behind their mother's skirts at the back of the battlefield.

"Though that may be the case," Finan snorted, moving his horse forward slightly so Harold was forced to move and ride dangerously close to the edge of the ridge we rode over, "I think Cissy wants us here."

"I do," I revealed immediately, grinning widely as I looked at my three friends, "I would throw myself down that ridge if not for all of you. He," I jerked my head towards Harold, "is arguably worse company than Young Uhtred."

Uhtred cringed lightly, "I think your turd brother has only a narrow win there."

"If a win at all," Finan added on, leaning back in his saddle slightly to enjoy the sun beaming down on his face. "Pity Sihtric couldn't join us. He might have liked the turd brother's company."

Sihtric, after little persuasion from Sigdeflaed, had decided to stay in Rumcofa and protect the town. He disliked Harold, and his patience was not known to last particularly long, so Uhtred had agreed that it was best for the Danish warrior to stay behind. 

Harold directed his gaze to Uhtred, eyeing him up and down curtly, "Why do you let that... Dane," Harold spat out the word venomously, "live with you?" 

Anger bloomed in my chest, pooling into my veins, but before I could curse out the man, Uhtred took control.

"He is a loyal friend and a good man," Uhtred shrugged calmly, "he is better than most Saxons, and I have no doubt he will be better than the Centish too."

"That is not hard to do." I scoffed, glaring daggers through Harold, "Centish men are cowardly fools who would rather rob women of their money instead of work."

Osferth snorted lowly beside me, trying to mask the sound with a forced cough and his arm rising up to cover his mouth. "May God forgive them."

My lips twitched up at his sarcastic quip, and that seemed to be the last stroke for Harold, who suddenly urged his horse forward and rushed ahead. 

Even his riding was overdramatic and pompous; he bobbed up and down on his saddle like an apple in water, trying to stay upright, but being a bad rider, he swayed from side to side.

"How can you," Finan leaned forward to look at me, his eyes slowly trailing over my face and then, drifting further down, "possibly, in any way, be related to him?" He did not take his eyes off me as he motioned his head to Harold.

I blushed slightly under his watchful gaze, though I was not unused to his blatant flirting by now. I turned to face the front again. "I pray I am not. I rely on the hope that my mother bed another man and I do not actually share blood with him."