Painted Blade || sihtric

42.

   BIRDS chirped in trees with clouds drifting across the beaming sun that pelted heat against skin when Bemia's horse came to a stop behind the gates to Aethelflaed's estate.

"Stiorra should be here," Bemia said, lifting up the bottoms of her grown before throwing a leg over the saddle and dismounting the horse with ease while Katja happily smiled, waiting to be pulled off. "Uhtred has three children," she explained to Espen who dismounted his horse, slinging a pack over his shoulder. "His oldest son is called Uhtred, but you might not meet him for a while yet. He's...figuring out his path for life. But Stiorra...now she's someone I'm excited for you to meet."

Espen laughed, tying the reins of his horse around a pole. "Osferth gave me a heads up about her and warned me to be on alert."

"Yes, well, he's not wrong," Bemia hummed, lifting Katja off the horse. The young girl was beaming as she squeezed her mother's hand, excited to see her cousin. "Whenever I can, I normally come here to teach the girls what I know from survival in harsh climates to swordcraft. And most nights at dinner I like to teach them about our Gods and a few pagan spells."

Espen raised a brow with a small smile at her before Katja also grabbed his hand. "Sounds to me that you should open a school, mother."

"Uhtred suggested the same thing," she admitted, walking toward the large front doors that were closed. "But I fear if I open a school now then I'll never step on a battlefield again. That's something I'm not ready for."

The large doors opened with a creak that silenced the house and when Bemia stepped inside first, she was surprised by the silence. Usually, Stiorra and Aelfwynn would make at least one sound by the time the doors opened.

"Mother, where are th—"

Katja never got to finish her question when someone charged toward Bemia's left from a room. The warrior in Bemia kicked into place and she let go of Katja, pushing her toward Espen who easily scooped her up in her arms before both the children of the Red Wolf watched their mother snap into action.

The figure that ran toward Bemia had a dagger raised and Bemia easily dodged the slash by stepping back, then grabbed the wrist while kicking the person's feet out all in one motion. As they both went toward the ground, Bemia unsheathed her own dagger, the blade glinting in the sunlight as it pressed into the neck. And when the Red Wolf focused on the pissed-off face, she grinned.

"You need to be faster than that, Stiorra," Bemia mused, moving her dagger away from her niece's neck while snatching the other dagger and sheathing them both to her belt. "Next time, drop from above," she advised, standing up before holding her hand out to the young woman.

Stiorra blew a strand out of her face before taking her auntie's hand and standing up. "I truly thought you couldn't hear me."

"Oh, I didn't," Bemia admitted, running a hand through Stiorra's straight black hair. "But I have eyes like a hawk. I see everything, my girl."

"Can I see Stori now?" a quiet voice asked from behind Bemia.

When Stiorra looked over Bemia's shoulder, her brows pinched down in confusion. "Who the hell is he?" she demanded, eyes snapping back to a smiling Bemia. "Please don't tell me you and Sihtric got divorced!"

Bemia laughed, a slight pain in her heart at the mention of a divorce. "No, no," she repeated, grabbing her arm and facing back to her impressed son. "Stiorra, this is Espen, your cousin."

"Cousin?" The young woman gasped, jaw-dropping. "When the fuck did you and Sihtric have a son?"

Bemia slapped her arm, making her groan. "Watch that tongue around Katja," she scolded her. "She called Finan a cock head not too long ago and I know you taught her that."

Stiorra laughed, shrugging her shoulders. "You teach her how to use a dagger so I thought I could teach her some sharp words."

"I'm starting to understand what Osferth meant," Espen muttered with a small smirk. "You are a lot like my Mother."

Stiorra's eyes lightly widened as she studied him. "With that accent, you are definitely Bemia's son," she mumbled, taking cautious steps forward as she tilted her head at him. "But oddly enough, you don't look like Sihtric."

Bemia sighed deeply, placing both her hands on her hips. "Espen's father is not Sihtric," she announced and Stiorra halted, back going straight. "This is the son I believed to have died all those years ago."

"You're Cathal?" Stiorra gasped and then whirled around to her aunty. "It's a miracle!" A smile met her lips.

"Yes, it truly is," Bemia laughed, walking toward Katja who started to wiggle in Espen's arms to get free. "Just put her down. She'll run off to find Aelfwynn."

Stiorra snapped out of her shock at that and quickly faced back to Katja who was placed on the ground. "She's playing upstairs," she quietly said, softly smiling. "Go find her."

Katja giggled while she ran away, heading straight for the stairs.

"So," Stiorra started, crossing her arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes into slits at Bemia, "if you're here with a new son whose father isn't Sihtric, then that means there's trouble in your life." The corners of her lips tugged up. "Talk to me. Tell Stiorra."

Bemia rolled her eyes, walking past her and toward the library. "Espen, you'll soon learn that Stiorra loves to know everything she can possibly hear. Here's another warning, do not tell her any secrets."

"Hey!" Stiorra fretted, following after her with Espen. "I am great at keeping secrets!" She then turned to her laughing cousin. "I swear I can keep secrets."

Sunlight gleamed into the library through the windows as the three of them walked into the room and Bemia plopped herself down on a chaise, resting her head back against her armrest.

"Now, I would love for you to both learn more about each other, but I need to ask you a question, Stori," Bemia hesitated to say.

Stiorra raised a brow, sprawling on a seat across from Bemia while Espen slowly walked around the room, looking at the books on the shelves, their different colored covers.

"You've come to ask me to watch Katja for a few days?" Stiorra guessed, lolling her head to the side.

"You know me so well that it's a little annoying," Bemia muttered, squinting her eyes at the girl. "But yes. I wish for you to watch her while I join your father on a venture. Espen has bought more apples and bread for you, and I've also put a few silver coins in the bag for you."

At the mention of silver coins, Stiorra was out of her chair and sprinting across the room to a wide-eyed Espen. Bemia barely sat up properly before Stiorra was going through the bag with a beaming smile.

"One, two," she started to count, pulling the silver coins out of the bag, "three...four! Aunty, I'll watch Katja whenever you want if you keep paying me this generously."

"You have to save some of that though," Bemia firmly warned her. "If something happens then you use some of that to get to Coccham and in my home, you'll find more silver that should help take care of you and Katja for a few months, okay?"

The smile on Stiorra's face faltered as she lowered the bag down. "Nothing will happen to you, Aunty," she mumbled, handing the bag back to Espen who sent his mother a worried look. "The Gods favor you. Katja is the proof."

Bemia sadly smiled, standing up. "But the Gods can also take back a blessing as fast as they gave it," she reminded her. "I'll be making a sacrifice tonight for our venture, but just in case, please take care of my daughter."

"Of course," the young woman said without hesitation, squaring her shoulders as Bemia walked toward her. "I'll protect her with my life. Always."

Bemia softly smiled and then pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You're a wonderful girl, Stiorra, but I never expect you to put Katja's life before your own. That's my job."

"And mine," Espen confidently said, raising his chin slightly.

Bemia turned her smile to her son before placing a warm hand on his cheek. "Not before mine," she quietly said, rubbing her thumb against his skin. "It is always a parent's first job to save their child before themselves."