CHAPTER THIRTEEN ─── bjorn

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They had been riding for hours before they finally came to a stop, dismounting and leaving their horses hidden before advancing to a rocky outcrop overlooking a farmstead. Uhtred had decided, against Yrsa and Finan's thoughts, to listen to Aethelwold and go and visit a dead man. 

Neither of them were impressed so, for once, the pair were agreeing.

"This is it. Skald's Hall." Aethelwold told them, as Yrsa raised an eyebrow, and then pulled a face. "It was given to Eilaf by his lord, for great service."

"Sihtric, you will go no further." Yrsa and Sihtric both turned to look at Uhtred, eyes wide like two kicked puppies, "not until we are at the hall and inside. At all times, you will remain unseen."

"Yes, Lord." Sihtric nodded his head, turning to shoot Yrsa an apologetic look as she huffed and glared at Uhtred's head. Was this her punishment for not joining them when the king was there? If so, she was even less impressed.

"If the dead man rises, when he returns to his grave, you will keep watching," Uhtred explained, tightening his arm guards. 

"What if he sees me, Lord?" Sihtric huffed, clutching Yrsa's hand tighter. Out of the pair of them, Sihtric was far more superstitious. "What if...What if he knows that I am near?"

"Then you shit yourself." Clapa joked, chuckling as Sihtric huffed quietly, and rolled his mismatched eyes.

"You will remain unseen and keep watch."

"Yes, Lord." Sihtric nodded, as Yrsa turned, pressing a long kiss to his lips. He gave her waist a gentle squeeze, before pressing a kiss to her head "Stay safe. If you need me, I will not be far."

"I will be fine." Yrsa grinned, pressing another kiss to his lips, before turning away and following Uhtred down to Skald's hall on horseback. Beastie shook his head, but Yrsa kept herself still, her hand going to her hatchets. It felt bizarre not having Sihtric by her side, as he had been for many years. She did not like it.

"We are here to see Eilaf, the Skald." Aethelwold called, as Yrsa spat to the side from her position between Finan and Clapa. She really did not like this. "We have an invitation."

"Who leads here?" Someone pushed through the warriors, someone that Yrsa did not recognise but it seemed Uhtred did. "You?"

"I do. I am Haesten," Yrsa had not heard of this lord before but as she looked closer, a memory came to mind of a man who looked like a boar with the brothers Eric and Sigefrid, "and you are Uhtred of Bebbanburg. You spared me at Eoferwic, Lord. You are expected and welcome."

Yrsa nodded, before dismounting and tying her horse up, following behind Uhtred as they entered the hall. Clapa stood behind her, glaring at the other soldiers who dared to look at her. She was the lone woman in the room, something that put her on edge without her lover by her side.

"What has he done?" Uhtred called ahead of her, as Yrsa looked up at the man in the cage.

"He is a thief, Lord." Uhtred nodded, before sitting down at the table. Yrsa slid in beside him and Clapa on her other side as she watched everything that was going on. She did not like this. "I serve Erik, Sigefrid's brother. He sends you good wishes."

Yrsa sipped at the ale and chewed at the food in front of her, keeping quiet as the men had their conversation.

"Erik is not here?" That was suspicious.

"He is not. And if I had my way, I would not be here," Haesten shook his head, looking around the hall of disgruntled Danes. "My men...are afraid."

"Of ghosts?" Finan shot Yrsa an exasperated look, which she returned. Haesten did not seem all that appreciative of their stares, glaring.

"It is not a sight you will forget." Finan and Yrsa shared another look of annoyance at Haesten's words. They could be happily in Winchester, eating good food and drinking ale, instead they were in some shit hole, drinking piss and eating food fit for pigs. "My lord wants you to know that by now, he will be at Beamfleot and not Frankia."

"With Sigefrid?" Uhtred asked, kicking both Yrsa under the table before she could open her mouth and comment.

"With his brother, and with the fleet. He insisted you were told." Another sharp glare from Uhtred had Yrsa biting her tongue and not passing comment.

"And where to after Beamfleot?"

"I can't say." Haesten took a large swig of ale as Yrsa rolled her eyes at the man's cryptic ways. "But it is hoped that you will join us there."

"I'd rather die at the blade of a Saxon..." Yrsa muttered under her breath as Uhtred gave her leg another kick. She hissed in pain, scowling.

"Eilaf is resting, Lord, in preparation for tonight. You may wish to do the same." Haesten nodded, before standing and walking off as Yrsa swapped to sit by Finan's side, scowling deeply.

"They have a fleet." Finan hissed. 

"My ankles hurt." Yrsa whined.

"How many I wonder?"

"Why did you kick me?"

"Nineteen ships. Yrsa, stop being dramatic." Uhtred stopped the both of their whining. Yrsa rolled her eyes.

"That's more than 500 men, plus those already there." Finan huffed, doing the mental calculations.

"And those who will come."

"Hopefully, not many though." Yrsa muttered, finally letting herself become more serious. "They're waiting to here what you do. No Dane would willingly go against the Dane Slayer. You have a knack for winning."

"Then it has started." Yrsa had almost forgotten, quite happily, that Aethelwold was with them until she heard his grating voice. 

"What?"

"The end of the peace." Yrsa turned to Uhtred at Aethelwold's words.

"How come when I say things like that, you kick me and yet, you let him be?"

"He is not mine to discipline." Uhtred continued to chew on his food, as Yrsa's jaw dropped.

"Neither am I! You are bruising my ankles, which I need to run and to fight with. Who's ankles do you need more; mine or his?" Yrsa sulked, shooting Aethelwold a dark glare all the same.

"Yrsa, now is not the time." 

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The bench grew painful to sit on a few hours in. By nightfall, Yrsa was pacing up and down the cabin, swinging her hatchet in her hand in boredom. She wanted to be outside, with Sihtric, not stuck in here with nothing to do.

Finally, after what felt like near to an eternity of waiting, the door swung open and then slammed shut.

Yrsa watched a tall, tattooed man stalk through their ranks and sit beside Finan, who looked mildly uncomfortable. She tilted her head, watching cautiously as he began to eat.

"Forgive me for not being awake to greet you, Lord." His voice was frail as he finally looked up at Uhtred. Yrsa stood behind her lord, her head tilted. This man was not what she expected. "Bjorn has given me little rest these recent times."

"We understand." Aethelwold spoke on behalf of them but in truth, Yrsa did not understand. Maybe this was something old people could understand.

"The gods are wanting true men so I thank you for being here, Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Uhtred did not react, just tilting his head further as the elderly man continued to speak. "After tonight, I hope to sleep."

He took a large swig of ale.

"Fetch the blood." The thief began to whimper in the cage above, as Yrsa perked up. Finally, things were beginning to get interesting, for blood and death was something that the young woman could easily understand. That was simple to her. "It is time."

Their party disappeared outside into the fog, walking along a treelined path. Yrsa had never seen Finan so on edge, something she was finding great pleasure in, and she stalked along behind him. The man looked like he would shit himself at any given point.

It took a few minutes before they reached a wooden barrier to a field, lined with stones.

"It is a Christian graveyard." Uhtred's words caused Yrsa to stop at the entry way, a scowl plastered across her face.

"No." Finan wrapped an arm through hers, dragging her into the graveyard anyway. "It was only once that I told you you'd burn up if you entered a Christian graveyard, it was a joke."

"Not a funny joke." Yrsa hissed, feeling panicked. "I am scarred."

"It was very funny." Finan replied, as Uhtred turned to shoot them a dark glare. How the pair could be bickering at a time like this, he would never know. The thief whimpered loudly, drawing Yrsa and Finan's attention back to an open graveside.

"To raise the dead, Lord, we need to send a messenger across the gulf." Haesten muttered, as a grin grew on Yrsa's face. Finally, death. A familiar friend in this bizarre group of half-deads, elderly lords and boar looking Danes.

"He is guilty?"

"Twice over." Yrsa looked between Uhtred and the man, hoping that he would get the message.

"Please, I beg you, Lord, please." The thief was stuttering, whimpering and crying. "I have a wife, I have children, please."

"What did you steal?"

"Just a lamb, Lord, for my family." The thief nodded earnestly.

"And furs."

"For my family, Lord!" He continued to protest.

"I'm sorry, but a thief twice over deserves to die." Finan and Yrsa began to nod in unison.

"They truly do. I could kill him for us, Lord." Yrsa did not want to have travelled all this way, away from a nice warm bed, just to not even kill anyone. It would be a waste. The thief began to protest.

"Put it in his mouth." 

He continued to beg and plead, grovelling desperately, but there was little hope for him. Everybody's mind was made up.

Haesten walked over to the thief, stuffing something down his throat. The others grew uncomfortable, but Yrsa's eyes narrowed. Something about this entire thing seemed off to her, her gut curling. 

"A harp string, lord. A bridge from our world to Bjorns." 

"Kill him." Eilaf hissed, as the thief spat whatever it was out of his mouth and started to cry. "Get the message into his mouth and kill him!"

They stuffed it down his mouth again, before finally splitting his throat as Yrsa huffed. She'd come all this way, and they'd not even let her kill the man.

His blood pooled into the soil on the grave side, causing some of the men to look away in disgust.

"Bjorn, you have blood. I have given you life. I have sent you a message. If it's peace that you want, you shall not have it until we hear you speak!" Uhtred shot a glance at Yrsa during the small speech, cocking an eyebrow at the curious look on her face. She huffed, tapping her hatchets before scrunching her nose. She did not like this at all.

Nothing happened for a moment, before the ground started to move, the earth pushing aside as something pulled itself up. Finan and Yrsa shared panicked looks at the hands and face appearing through the soil. She reached for the talisman around her neck, sending a prayer to the gods for strength and protection as the corpse stood up on shaky legs.

It spat to the side, harp string landing at Uhtred's feet causing Yrsa to take another step back.

"Welcome, Bjorn." Yrsa's hand tightened on her hatchet, wanting nothing more than to plant it into the dead man's head and send him back to the gods. This was unnatural. "This is Lord Uhtred, who has sent a good many Dane to the place that you live."

"I do not live."

"I do not like this." Yrsa muttered at the sound of Bjorn's croaky voice.

"You have a message for Lord Uhtred." Bjorn began to straighten up at Eilaf's voice, causing Finan and Yrsa to take another step away.

"Lord Uhtred, I see you now." Bjorn's eyes were glazed, his cheeks hollowed and hair matted. "The gods have had their sacrifice and the brothers have tonight begun that which cannot be stopped. Lundene's streets are red with Saxon blood. You are to be King. King of Mercia. King of Saxon and Dane. King of other Kings. You. Lord Uhtred."

Bjorn stumbled away, falling back down beside the dead body as Yrsa took a deep breath. This was not something that should have been said aloud, not with the Saxon King already so suspicious of their little party.

"Bury him." Eilaf's voice sounded far away as Yrsa tried to process what had been said. "Lord King, it is done."

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Hiya,

Can confirm that Finan and Yrsa just roast each other on a daily basis and have no care for the others mental wellbeing in the slightest, but I love them for it. They're incredibly chaotic and Uhtred is a very, very tired father.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx