Painted Blade || sihtric

62.

   MORE wounded guards were being taken to the healer's tent as Bemia watched from Edward's tent, her face full of impatience and annoyance.

"Do not give the signal," Uhtred advised Edward who was standing across the table that Ebbe was seated at. "You must see how this plan unleashes pointless slaughter."

"Each hour we wait is an insult to my father!" Edward jeered.

Father Pyrlig rubbed the top of his head. "Then think of the captives."

"Think of our sons and Uhtred's daughter," Bemia added with a plea in her tone. "Think of your mother and wife."

"They are lost to us!" Edward looked over at her. "They were lost from the moment the Danes arrived in Wessex. Do you not see it? This is my punishment. I abandoned the children of Mercia, and this is God's vengeance for that mistake."

"God would not do that, Lord," Father Pyrlig sharply stated.

"We do not have to burn Winchester!" Uhtred protested. "I swear to you I will find another way."

Edward faced him, raising a brow. "And you always keep your word, Uhtred."

"This is not the time for that fight!" Bemia snapped and then whirled around, heading straight toward the gates. "I'm going in there! I'm getting our children and I'll take down every fucking Dane in my path!"

Ebbe's eyes widened. "Bemia!" he shouted, pushing his chair back as he chased after her. "You are not going in there without me!"

Many guards and Danes stopped what they were doing, watching the King and Queen of Norway head straight toward the gates.

But Sihtric also caught sight of them and quickly handed Katja to Finan before pushing men out of his way, heading toward his hot-headed wife.

"Bemia, you can't do this!" Sihtric argued, grabbing her arm and whirling her around to face him. "I understand you want to get your son back, but what about Katja?"

Bemia's heart ached in her chest. Never in her life did she think that one day she would have to choose between one of her children. And she was beyond mad at herself for allowing herself to get into a decision like this.

"He's my son," Bemia whispered, looking at Sihtric and then Ebbe. "I..."

As if the Gods could sense her conflict, a familiar voice called out.

"Aunty! Father!"

Bemia whirled around, a small cry of relief parting from her lips when she spotted Young Uhtred hurrying toward her, dressed like a monk once again.

"Uhtred!" Bemia shouted for her brother, leaving her husband and Ebbe behind as she raced over to her nephew. "You're alive!" She grabbed his shoulders, looking him over before pulling him into a tight hug. "I should be pissed at you for leaving without telling me!"

"We both should be," Uhtred said and the pair pulled away. "What are you doing here?"

Young Uhtred was slightly breathless, looking between the two of them with panic in his eyes. "Where are they? Where is Stiorra and Espen?"

Uhtred sent him a dreadful look. "They are within, but we have a plan to save them."

Bemia furrowed her brows looking at him but then a horn sounded, and they snapped their heads toward the gates.

"King Edward of Wessex!" a voice with an accent called out.

"Ebbe! Sihtric!" Bemia shouted, unsheathing an axe before jogging toward the gates, not bothering with a shield.