It's never over // Sihtric Kjartansson

Part Sixteen

The road had been long but Uhtred and his men were finally in front of the king and ready to hear what was so important. Strange looks floated between the group as King Alfred explained. The deadly important issue was a group of Dane's pillaging? That happens all the time how serious could it be? But a group of 200 strong that arrived on a fleet of 6 ships earlier that week did trigger the worry to creep in. Uhtred was needed to go and show that Wessex and the Saxons were not to be bothered again. Even with all of Uhtred's men they would be outnumbered but Alfred could spare none. His city needed protection incase the Dane's heard where the king and all his wealth was. Typical.
The threats were moving fast, stealing horses for their men, feasting and practicing their killing on anyone who didn't comply. This worried Uhtred. They must be preparing for battle, and with a number like that it would be one he couldn't  miss.
Sihtric couldn't share the same fears, his mind wondered elsewhere. With all the new problems arising it felt as if Tove was slipping further and further out of reach, weeks had passed. To say he was struggling was an understatement, village gossips' pockets grew heavier at each town he passed as they traveled. All he wanted was the smallest bit of information, was she alive? Some hadn't heard anything, others told stories of the happy family of the Dane lord and his missing wife reunited with their son that fitted in lovingly. But it just didn't seem right to him. Or maybe it was that he didn't want to belive that she had lied and used him. A battle plagued his mind keeping his thoughts loud but his lips silent. Uhtred knew battle would be good for Sihtirc, blow off some steam but it would not solve the problem. Some days they would travel without stopping, time was their biggest enemy at this point. Horror of the aftermath of these terrible Dane's spread further and further.
Then one day it just stopped. After 5 days of Uhtred's men trying to catch up to them, they had just stopped. Like they had just had a change of heart but this obviously couldn't be the case. Battle was here. But the problem for Untred was where were they going to strike?

Tove felt comforted by the weight of her son who sat peacefully in her arms. The sound of her warm voice rose as she sung him songs passed down through generations of her family. It brought joy to her that these songs lived on through her child but she would never be able to escape the reason why she had her son. His features so similar to those of her brothers, his laugh as soft as her mother's. Over the years of their separation Tove learned that she should be thankful she gets such a beautiful reminder of their lives however cruelly short they were.
Einar was right her son was big for his age, her legs had become numb under his weight but to her he was her baby and always would be.
The crunch of nearby leaves took the boy's attention from Tove's song, she didn't bother to look over. By the heaviness of the footsteps and grunting of struggle to navigate the tree's winding roots she knew it to be Einar. He sat next to her admiring the sight of his wife and favourite son sitting so happily together.
"It's been a while since I've heard you sing little bird." He chuckled adjusting her hair over her ear  as an attempt to see more of her face. He wanted to see the smile she tried to hide however forced it was. He didn't know that.
"Hmm," Tove didn't want to say what she was really thinking so a small acknowledgment would have to do.
"Please, don't let me stop you. It's so nice to see my two beauty's like this." He nodded his head, asking her to sing for him. With little hesitation she carried on. Einar ran his fingers through her long hair. He moved it over her shoulder, feeling how soft it was between his fingers and letting it slide over his knuckles.
There was one small, very small, collection of hair that felt different.
He now used his other hand to separate the section. Looking closer he saw that it was her hair but other hair was braided into it. It was so small that he had missed it when he pulled her phoney husband's intricate design from her hair when she had first returned. It was so grown out that it only lasted from the middle to the length of her hair. Thick, black hair. It was his hair.
From nowhere all the hate and resentment he held for Tove suddenly resurfaced. How dare she treasure this piece of filth? Tove was his wife, his. She carried his son, her first and last child. He looked disgusted upon her youthful skin and the fear of her outliving him began to bloom. He needed to make sure that he would be her first and last husband. His feelings of absolute rage became intoxicating. She ran away, embarrassed him, remarried and disrespected his name. She tried to kill herself to escape him. If death is what she wanted it would be death she could have. Her son had lived this long without her, any woman can raise a child but only Tove could make children with such love and perfection. Now she couldn't. Her use had disappeared. Why was he waisting his time.
Her smile and happy song felt like a mockery to such a fragile man.
Einar placed a hand over her mouth, stopping her singing and also her breathing. She tried to recoil but his grip was firm.
"You disgust me, your disobedience and disrespect has embarrassed me. You are of no use to me anymore I will not waist my time on a whore such as yourself." He shouted, the sudden change in mood confused Tove.
Their son began to cry and back away as Tove fought to pry his rough hand off of her nose and mouth.
"I will have your head with your own axe and I will spike your head to let all of my men know what happens to people who disrespect me."
Tove began kicking now, there would be no beheading if he didn't remove his hand. A last resort of a bite as hard as she could freed her.
The air she began to gulp was kicked from her by Einar's heavy boot. She wanted to call out to her child that stood helplessly watching her be beaten by the father he worshipped. But Einar's  shoe landed in her face before she could shout to  him.

"Their camp is about an hour from here on horse back, I plan to try and negotiate. With their number being so large we can enter the camp unnoticed and work out who they follow."
Uhtred's men nodded in agreement, excitement and anticipation buzzed throughout the group. They had agreed leave at noon. Completing this task would move them one step closer to Tove's rescue.
But Sihtric's greatest fears had come to be a reality. They would not reach her in time. Her execution was at noon.