Painted Blade || sihtric

28.

THREE days later, snowflakes were falling from the sky, landing on the exposed skin of thirty men who waited in a clearing for a battle, their bodies shivering due to the cold.

"Bemia said she was coming back, right?" Osferth questioned, crouching on the ground with his head leaning against a spear he held.

Sihtric stopped near him, rubbing his arms. "She sent a letter back saying they were marching yesterday morning."

"Then she should have been here by last night," Finan muttered, his teeth chattering. "Perhaps this weather slowed them down?"

"Maybe that's what happened with Haesten's men?" Osferth sighed.

"As long as it means that Bemia is still alive, then I'm fine with not battling today," Sihtric admitted, looking at Uhtred's back as head stood ahead of them. "We should send someone out to scout from Bemia's men or Haesten's army."

"It's been half a day," Uhtred sighed, turning back to them and starting to walk away.

"Maybe Haesten's scared of the priest," Finan snickered, picking his shield off the ground with Sihtric who laughed and Osferth smiled to himself, still crouched on the ground.

"We leave!" Uhtred ordered and his men started picking up their shields, following behind him.

But Osferth's eyes widened at the sight of horses charging toward them. "Bemia?" he whispered in shock, but fear filled his body at the sight of only men. No hounds. No silver hair. He got to his feet and sprinted after Uhtred. "Lord! Lord!" he yelled out. "It's not Bemia!"

At that, all the men turned around, beholding the army of Haesten's men marching toward them.

Uhtred's eyes widened. "Run!" he shouted, turning around and running toward the camp.

"Where the hell is Bemia then?" Sihtric panted, sharing a worried look with Finan before they both looked in the direction where they knew the King's army was.

"Halt!" Uhtred ordered near the camp, unsheathing his sword as they faced the army. "Two lines!"

They all formed into two lines as Haesten's army came to a stop only a few meters away—an army that took up most of the clearing while Uhtred's men didn't even compare to the size.

"Shields up!" Uhtred ordered and shields were raised with swords.

"Surround them!" Haesten ordered. "Give them no escape! And then we'll kill every last one of the bastards!"

Haesten's men cheered as they charged forward to surround Uhtred's small flock of men.

"Turn!" Uhtred yelled. "Circle!"

As his men formed a tight circle in the middle of the surrounding Danes, Sihtric felt the weight of his wife's necklace hanging from his neck and he took in a shuddering breath of worry for where she was and if he would ever see her again.

"Osferth!" Sihtric barked, keeping his eyes forward as the Danes fully surrounded them. "You stay alive no matter what, boy! Or Bemia will raise us both from the dead just to kill us again!"

Osferth nodded from within the circle, holding the spear tightly in his hand. "I'll try!" He glanced at Sihtric's back and then around him again. "May the good Lord protect me. Protect us all."

"We hold!" Uhtred ordered. "We give them no ground!"

"We've no ground to give, Lord," Finan muttered.

From behind the Dane line, Haesten stayed seated atop his horse. "Give up Uhtred, and the rest of you will live! All I want is the Dane-Slayer!"

"What you will get, Haesten," said Finan, "is my sword up your hairy arse!"