A Whisper to the North

Chapter VII ✠ The Smell of Red

Darren had been shot down. His corpse is laid on his back next to six other individuals, the Danes who wanted to come back to kill the last descendent of Cynan. At least this is what Una thought to be accurate, despite that Frey said he only wished to retrieve back his sword and got lost in the process. Both options seem like a fabrication. Una will never know their true motives now that they are gone.

Una still has Frey pinned against a tree with anger coursing through her veins. Una believed that Frey was responsible for Darren's demise. She thinks that he set him up to this, and yet Frey's shirt is still bunched up in the firm grasp of Una's fists. Why was he still here? Why was he not on the boat? Could it be that he came to finish Una off? Why else would he be here if not for that?

"You bastard!" Una still cried, her tears stinging her cold cheeks.

"Why have you done this!" Una asked, shaking him.

"I already told you, I didn't want to go back to my father."

"That's the most idiotic thing I have heard come out of your mouth!" Una tightened her grip.

"Well, you should hear me when my father is not in my frame of mind." He laughed.

"You think this is funny!?" Una cried as she released her grasp on him.

Frey fell back, still with a neutral look on his face, despite having his throat bleeding.

"Restrain him." Una backed away and looked at Yvar. He was second most vital to Darren.

She would not look at him again, only the bodies ahead of her. She watched as they pulled Darren away from the pile and someone rested their cloak over him. The rest of the bodies were stacked in a heap. The soldiers stacked large branches around the pile of corpses until they could come back to burn them later in the night. It would be too evident in the daylight, the black smoke rising. Someone is bound to walk out and see it. Una knows that the people who saw the boat attacked spread the word, but she didn't know if they knew they were Vikings.

"What do you want me to do with him?" Una could hear Yvar call out behind her.

Una thought for a second, and she had to remember where her father kept the prisoners he had, but she felt that he deserved worse than that.

"Lock him up in the old paddock." Una iterated hoarsely.

"My lady?" Yvar sounded confused.

"You heard me," Una stated.

"Yes, my liege." Yvar said.

Una looked back and saw Frey looking at her. He had no mal intent in his eyes as he was being led away. Yvar grabbed him, and he hoisted him on his horse. Yvar got behind him, and they galloped off. Now all Una saw was Darren. She didn't get to see him today. The last time they saw each other was the night before now. He had offered Una a drink, which she did not partake in. She was too busy trying to pry Frey about their untimely appearance.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Aaron came up and tried to grab Una's hand to comfort her.

Una was convinced that everyone knew that she had affections that were not appropriate for a queen to have about her loyal subjects. Darren was Una's right hand, but also her left side of thinking. He was so beautiful to Una that she disregarded his imperfections. He had anger issues, and he wasn't very kind to Marged. Una thought it was him just demonstrating his warrior-like tendencies, but in truth, she had been blinded by her lust for him.

Una thought about Marged as she watched her men take away Darren's corpse. She would be the first to know of this tragic news. Una was beside herself. It was as if her whole world was crumbling down around her. Worst of all, she felt terrible for Marged. What will happen to her and her child? What will become of her once she learns of the death of her husband.