Painted Blade || sihtric

4.

"THIS is it," Aethelwold announced, standing with Bemia, Sihtric, Uhtred, and Clapa on a cliff, looking down at a red hall where many Danes walked around. "Skald's Hall. It was given to Eilaf by his Lord, for great service."

"Am I distracting those men?" Bemia asked, annoyance clear in her tone as she placed a hand on her hip. She truly didn't feel like changing out of her leather armor or batting her lashes at a handful of men.

"No," Sihtric, Uhtred, and Finan firmly answered, eyes hard on her.

"Oh, thank the Gods," she sighed in relief with a small smile.

"You and Sihtric will go no further," Uhtred added and her face dropped, "not until we are at the hall and inside. At all times you will remain unseen."

Bemia was surprised for once. There had been a few times she was stuck with only Sihtric during travel, but something was different now—they were different.

"Yes, Lord," Sihtric quickly said, his hands already growing sweaty just from the thought of being all alone with Bemia.

"If the dead man rises, when he returns to his grave, you both will keep watching."

Sihtric swallowed hard. "What if he sees us, Lord? What if..." He took in a breath and Bemia amusedly snorted. "What if he knows that we are near?"

"Then you shit yourself." Clapa chuckled.

"Don't worry, Sihtric," Bemia drawled in a teasing tone as she patted his arm. "I'll save your arse, again."

Sihtric thinned his lips, throwing her a glare that she laughed at with Finan.

Uhtred looked away from the pair with an amused smile. "You will remain unseen and keep watch. And you will protect my sister with your life."

Sihtric didn't have to think twice as he said, "Yes, Lord," side-eyeing an annoyed Bemia.

"You know I am more than capable of protecting myself," Bemia muttered, slapping her brethren's arm. "I've killed more men than I can count."

Uhtred playfully rolled his eyes as he threw an arm over her shoulder, walking away from the cliff and back into the woods with his men following. "I know, but sometimes you need protecting."

"When have I ever?" she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest.

He looked down at her with an arched brow. "What about that time when you got so drunk that you landed in the pig—"

Bemia threw an elbow into his ribs, making him groan in pain as she pushed his arm from her shoulders. "You promised to never bring that night up again!" she whisper-shouted.

Uhtred sent her a glare and then grabbed the back of her neck, squeezing it as she yelped. "I thought we agreed that you would stop elbowing me."

Behind the siblings, Clapa was deeply laughing while Finan was trying not to piss himself, howling beside a smiling Sihtric. And Aethelwold was wide-eyed, turning pale. It was a rare sight when they saw someone get the upper hand against Bemia and it seemed to always be Uhtred who did.

"I'll cut off your fucking hand in a second, Uhtred!" She grabbed his wrist with one hand and then unsheathed a dagger and pulled herself out of his hold, whirling around on her heel before he could blink. They had stopped now, a tight grip on his wrist while her dagger was aimed at his stomach. "You know that makes me feel sick."

Uhtred tried his hardest not to laugh but failed and she muttered under her breath, letting go of his wrist and sheathing her dagger. "You always have been a feisty little thing, Bemmi."