Painted Blade || sihtric

48.

   THE next morning, unshed tears lined Bemia's eyes as she held one of Aethelflaed's hands and stood behind Young Uhtred, her other hand gently on his shoulder as he prayed for the dead children lined up at their feet—without heads.

There were so many small bodies with sheets covering them, those same sheets stained red. The sight was gruesome and Bemia felt truly sick after she'd been up before dawn, helping to console grieving mothers and fathers while carrying many of those dead bodies into the palace.

"Oh, Lord, grant us the knowledge of your power when it comes to pass that a man and wife may bring a child into this world," Young Uhtred continued praying, sniffles and cries sounded around them. "They clothe him. They cherish him, but God alone may know his fate. For these children were in darkness. Now they are saved. Bring them the light of your love, Lord God, and let them walk as children of light."

Bemia let go of Young Uhtred's shoulder, stepping closer to Aethelflaed and holding her hand tighter. "I'm truly sorry," she whispered with a heavy heart, seeing the tears on her face. "I promise, Lady, we'll avenge them."

Aethelflaed nodded, squeezing her hand back. "I know we will," she mumbled, looking at her. "It's our duty as mothers."

Two figures walked into the hall and Bemia looked over to see her husband stop at the sight of the dead children, his eyes shattering whereas Uhtred marched right toward the two Ladies.

"There is no time for this," Uhtred said in a hushed whisper.

Bemia's whole mood snapped within seconds. "Are you fucking kidding me?" she quietly snapped.

Aethelflaed squeezed her hand again, sending Uhtred a sharp look. "They are children, Uhtred. Sons of Mercia's most revered men." A small sob came out of her. "When did children become the cost of war?"

"I'm sure he can answer that perfectly," Bemia sniped with a glare sent to her brother.

Sihtric quickly walked over at that before he grabbed his wife's other hand. "Perhaps we should go see the boys," he gently suggested. "Espen has finished preparing the horses."

Bemia knew her husband was trying to save her arse so she released Aethelflaed's hand, sending her an apologetic look before she allowed her husband to pull her away.

But the second they were near the hall doors, Bemia let out a quiet cry, covering her mouth with a hand. Sihtric instantly stopped, whirling back around to face her and the sight of her broke his heart.

"They're children," she cried, furiously wiping the tears rushing down her face. "They were innocent children."

Sihtric pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back. "Cnut will be killed for this," he promised, holding her tighter when she wrapped her arms around him. "Cnut and all his men will be slaughtered for what they have done."

"It could've been Katja," she whispered, struggling to take in deep breaths at the thought. "They could've killed Katja while we were away."

"But they didn't," he firmly said, taking in a shaky breath. "Aethelflaed promised that the children were safe when she checked on them. Our daughter is alive and safe."

And that was the only reason why Bemia hadn't completely fallen apart yet. If something were to happen to Katja, then she knew she would never be the same again. Nor would Sihtric.

"Danes!" Finan shouted and instantly, the pair were pulling away from each other. "The Danes are here, Lord!" He ran toward them with Osferth and Espen. "They're headin' towards the gates!"

"How many?" Uhtred demanded, stopping beside Bemia with Aethelflaed.

The three of them ran in, preparing the close the doors. "Too many!"