Painted Blade || sihtric

34.

AFTER a few hours, they had finally reached Wessex, but of course, the gates hadn't opened for the party and Bemia was beyond bored, her arse in pain from riding.

"Steapa," Bishop called out, standing in front of the gates and looking up at the tower. "Steapa!" A minute later, Steapa appeared at the top, looking down at them and when his eyes met Bemia's, she innocently smiled. "Do you not recognize me, Steapa? Why have the gates not opened?"

Steapa focused back on the impatient man. "Bishop Erkenwald, you have guests."

"They did ride with us from Coccham."

"Where my brother remains," Bemia sweetly assured him. "He'll be going directly to Mercia."

"Steapa, he had hoped to visit his children there," Hild threw in.

"Is this true, Lord?" Steapa questioned.

"You do not believe me?" Hild accused.

"It is true that Uhtred Ragnarson remains at Coccham," Bishop assured him as Bemia yawned, ready to fall asleep at this point. "That is all I know to be true."

"It's Uhtred's intention to return to Mercia," Hild said. "He asked me to petition the King to have his children follow. Now open the gates and let us rest."

But Steapa stayed where he was standing, biting into a piece of bread.

"Hey, big man!" Finan raised his voice. "We're guilty of bein' hungry and tired, my friend. That is all."

Steapa drank deeply from his cup before he ordered the guards to open the gates.

"Finally," Bemia happily sighed as her horse walked through the gates. When she passed Steapa, she sent him a mocking wave. "Miss me, big man?"

"You still have a sharp tongue, eh?" Steapa shook his head, watching her continue on as Sihtric laughed.

After putting the horses in the stables and dismounting, Bemia leaned against the fence, only for her eyes to snag on someone familiar.

"Holy shit," she breathed, slapping Sihtric's arm as he stopped beside her with furrowed brows. But she was too focused on Aethelwold sitting at a table near them with men—and his right damn eye was gone. "The hell happened to him?"

Sihtric followed her gaze and when his eyes landed on Aethelwold, he had the same reaction. "Wasn't the Danes," he murmured. "We would've heard about it while we were in the camp."

"The better question is, how the hell is he walkin' around alive in here?" Finan asked, disdain clear in his voice as he leaned back against the fence. "Is that Aethelwold the sword-Dane I see?" he raised his voice and Aethelwold faced them, that missing eye gruesome. "Looks like you've mislaid an eye."

Bemia snorted at that, sharing an amused look with Sihtric who laid his arm over her shoulder when a cart passed them.

"I see you perfectly, Finan," Aethelwold said as his men turned to face the trio. "Though I do not see you master. Uhtred. Where is he?"

Finan shrugged his shoulders. "Standin' at your blind side, perhaps."

"Now that was cruel," Bemia winced, as she cocked her head to the side, and they followed her. The second her back was to Aethelwold, she burst out laughing. "That was fucking hilarious!"

Finan chuckled, walking beside her, both of them unaware that Sihtric had stopped behind them. "I've got a few more jokes to make about his eye."

"And you damn better because that weasel deserves more than a missing eye," she said, stopping near the carts where men unloaded the grains.