Painted Blade || sihtric

77.

   RUMCOFA was silent, a cloud of death and pain hanging over the village, sending droplets of grief down on the survivors that stood on the bank, behind a shaking Bemia. The woman had spoken nothing to anyone. She refused to breathe deeply because every time she did, she could hear Osferth's final breath that shattered her soul.

"Odin, All-Father, hear our plea," Bemia started, her voice hoarse from hours of weeping. Many of the Danes behind her held each other, watching as the ship full of their fallen kin started to sail away. "As we return our kin to your embrace, may their journey be safe and swift. May you allow them to feast with their ancestors." She lifted her bow as did Cynlaef, the pair pulling back the arrows set alight. "Thor, protector, let your mighty hammer guard them with the Valkyries. Freya, goddess of love and war, receive them with open arms." And then the pair let their arrows fly, watching with the rest of Rumcofa as the arrows landed in the ship, catching fire with the hay they had laid around the fallen. "May they find peace and honor in the realms of the gods."

The ship glowed brighter with orange flames and Bemia held Thor's hammer around her neck, the cold steel biting her skin as she pulled Cynlaef into her side, the pair quiet with grief for their people.

But when the ship sailed further away, a figure standing at the head of the boat knocked the air from Bemia's lungs. She knew that face from anywhere—knew those blue eyes that stared into her soul with hatred, knew that cross hanging from his neck.

"Osferth," Bemia breathed, pushing away from Cynlaef while her heart bashed in her chest.

The pain in her stitched-up shoulder slowly numbed with each step she took down the docks, ignoring the shout of Cynlaef and Finan. It made no sense as to why Osferth would be on the boat with the fallen Danes, but she wasn't going to question it. Instead, she was going to reach her son and bring him back home.

"I'm coming!" Bemia promised, dropping her cloak behind her when she passed the watchtower on the dock, keeping her eyes locked with Osferth's, the man reaching a hand out for her.

Finan chased after Bemia with Cynlaef, the pair watching in horror as she called out for Osferth who wasn't there but instead in a cart that was pulled behind Ingrith who had left an hour ago with Father Benedict to Wessex.

"Bemmi!" Finan roared when she jumped off the dock, disappearing from their sight.

Cold snapped at Bemia's skin, snatching the air from her lungs and burning her eyes when she landed in the water, kicking her feet like hell to the surface. But when she broke the surface, strong arms wrapped around her, holding her body close to a chest while she frantically looked around, spotting the boat but no Osferth.

"Where is he?" Beria's teeth chattered together, her head spinning. "Osferth? Where are you?"

"He's gone, Bemia," Finan tightly said, swimming back to the dock with an arm wrapped around her waist.

Bemia shook her head, the cold growing hot around her. "No, no, no," she rushed out, blinking hard at the burning boat. "He was—I saw him—Finan, he was right there."

That was the final straw for Finan who stopped swimming, roughly forcing Bemia to face him while he held her up. "He is gone, Bemia! Osferth died and there is nothin' we can do about it!" he raised his voice, not stopping even when Bemia flinched, tears filling her eyes. "He died in your arms and there was no way we could save him! Do you understand me?"

Bemia's heart stopped in her chest, turning to ash and soon being blown away by his words. "I..." she trailed off, feeling the world shrink in around her.

Finan's face dropped when his words set into his heart and guilt filled his body. "No, I didn't mean any of that," he quickly said, pulling her limp body toward the dock. "I'm sorry, Bemia."

   NIGHT had fallen when Bemia stumbled out of an alehouse, her knuckles red and bloody after picking a fight with a man and winning. The ground under her feet felt rocky and unsteady, but she continued to drink the rest of her ale before throwing it on the ground behind her.

"Oh, Gods, how you have repaid me well for all that I have done in your name!" Bemia slurred, her lips turned upward despite the hatred and anger burning in her eyes.

A few people in the street hurried away from the drunken woman, sharing hushed words about her bloodied hands and split lip.

But Cynlaef and Finan fell silent by the horses they were preparing, their eyes drifting over to Bemia who managed to trip over her own feet and land in a puddle of mud.

"Shit," Finan swore, quickly making his way over to her. "Get the twins prepared to leave," he threw over his shoulder to Cynlaef who hesitated before listening.

Bemia let out a strangled laugh, rolling onto her back and ignoring the soaking mud that drenched her dress. "Like a horse stuck in mud," she whispered, staring up at the glistening stars. "Perhaps this is what you had fated for me, Gods. Perhaps my downfall was soon to come."

"That is nonsense." Finan stopped beside her, grabbing her hands. "This will not be the start of your downfall," he muttered, pulling her to sit up as she stared at him with lifeless eyes, the sight tearing him apart. He crouched down in front of her, keeping a hold of her hands. "Where is Bemia the Red Wolf? Where is my sister?"

Bemia lazily smiled, lolling her drunk head to the side. "Your sister was ready to die the day she lost her daughter and now she has finally died with Osferth," she hummed, smiling brightly like a mad woman. "Now, if you would be so kind and leave me to rot and wither on my own."

Finan sighed painfully, standing up. "Your sons are askin' for you," he quietly said, wrapping an arm around her back before pulling her onto her feet. "They need their mother."

The amusement left Bemba's body at that, and she pushed him away, stumbling back a few steps. "I am no mother," she spat out, nearly tripping over her feet again when she headed away from him. "What mother gets their son killed?"

"His death was not your fault, Bemia." He followed after her, keeping his hands slack at his sides and ready to catch her if she tripped once again.

"Bullshit," she laughed humourlessly, unwanted tears filling her eyes. "I saw him fighting off two men, but I went to my other sons in hopes of protecting them. Which I did, but to save them, I left my first son to be killed." She came to a stop, her lungs growing heavy in her chest. "I sacrificed Osferth to save the twins," she whispered in dread.

Finan swore under his breath, pulling her into his chest. "You did no such thing," he tried to assure her. "Osferth wanted you to save the twins over him and you fulfilled that wish. His death is not your fault."

"Then why are my hands stained in his blood?"