The rope around his wrist was tight, digging into the skin with harsh ferocity. Sihtric kept his jaw clenched and stare locked in front of him as two men dragged him rather cruelly into a secluded area of the forest that surrounded them. Grey clouds cosseted a languid leaden sky, the sun timidly hidden behind them as the ambient winds rushed past touching upon exposed skin. The ground beneath him was rough his knees felt the tiny pebbles that pricked him painfully as he was thrown to the ground. He grunted as he sat himself up using his tied hands to brush away the masses of leaves that concealed the ground.

"I believe Lord Uhtred is hoping you can tell him about Kjartan's fortress." A man by the name of Halig said.

Sihtric looked to him, "It is tall." He answered as a small smile of amusement played on his lips.

Halig chuckled from irritation, "Tell him that and you are a dead man." He informed.

As he stood up Sihtric stepped forward, "Then let me speak to him."

"He will speak to you when he is ready." Halig snapped back, "He is a good man."

As the men turned around allowing Sihtric some privacy that he had asked for he took this chance to quickly and astutely wrap the very rope that tied him around the ankles of the taller more built man causing him to trip and fall vociferously to the ground. As Halig approached Sihtric he kicked him to the ground brutishly and then turned to do the same to the other man this time punching him across his cheek, his hand ached from the intensity of it- ignoring the throbbing too consumed by his situation Sihtric grabbed the taller mans sword.

He hit the sword rapidly against Halig's fighting the man off, the sound was clangourous and it was sure to carry easily through the imposing trees that concealed them. With one last fierce hit Sihtric pushed back Halig all while having the sword ready at his side to place against the cold skin of the man.

"Drop your sword!" Sihtric demanded once he had Halig on his knees before him.

Sihtric could feel Haligs's heartbeat pattering at an inhuman pace as he kept the sword to his neck he turned to look to the other man who had risen with an angered glare, "You will fetch Lord Uhtred! Tell him I have his man." He shouted, digging the sword into Halig's neck as a way to pressure the man to hasten his run.

"Kill me and we are both dead." Halig yelled his breathing sporadic.

"Now!" Sihtric shouted with greater aggressiveness.

The man ran just as he screamed Lord Uhtred repeatedly.

Sihtrc craned his neck down to look at Halig, "With luck we shall both live."

From a distance Sihtric could see the man he had called for rush toward them his stare hardened in anger beside him a woman- Hild is her name, with beautiful blonde hair she is a fierce warrior as much as the men with her she glared at Sihtric with animosity pulling out her sword.

"I could have killed him, Lord." Sihtric shouted "Made good my escape."

"Kill him and you will die slowly." Uhtred seethed stopping before them.

"Told you." Halig snapped.

"I asked your man to fetch you, Lord I do not murder, I wish to bargain." Sihtric informed, the sword still at Halig's throat.

Uhtred scoffed turning briefly to lock his gaze with Hild before staring at Sihtric, "A life for a life is it?"

"My life for my sword." Sihtric corrected, "I wish to serve you lord."

Uhtred kneeled down grabbing Halig's sword as Sihtric continued to speak, "I could have killed both men but I wish to serve you."

Uhtred exhaled, "You are Kjartan's man."

Shaking his head Sihtric breathed out a no, "I am Kjartan's bastard son whelped on a slave girl." He disclosed "And you are Uhtred Ragnarson, and I wish to serve a warrior and a lord- a true lord!" Sihtric declared all the while in the back of his mind like a small flutter of a winged bird the thought of Lynette carried so agreeably reminding him that this could be his chance- break off all ties with his wretched father and assist Uhtred with his revenge for he is sure the man before him seeks that and he is not anyone to prevent it for he pursues the same end, Kjartan and his son to succumb to a death so brutal and that the doors of Valhalla be forever locked to the likes of them for their heinous actions.

And maybe perhaps Uhtred would not mind knowing that he has family other than his cruel and backstabbing devil of an uncle- if the blood of that man running through her veins does not bother him maybe then he may soon come to admire Lynette as all that have come to know her do so for she is nothing like her father, he is loveless and callous where she is the spirit of love itself and sensitive, a bastard she is- born out of wedlock but she is not as they say those to be.

"If you believe me to be these things, then put down your sword." Uhtred calmly commanded.

Sihtric tightened his grasp on the hilt of the sword "You guarantee my life?"

"Put down your sword." Uhtred repeated this time his tone stern, uncompromising.

"Kill him." Halig seethed.

"No." Uhtred turned his gaze wandering over the group of people silently ordering them to stay put, "Put down your sword." He, once more, repeated.

Sihtric waited for a few minutes pushing the sword out and then back to Halig's neck his stare roaming the surroundings, the people- then with one last glance he threw the sword aside Halig hurried up and rushed to stand beside Uhtred and Sihtric stepped back.

"I can be of use to you Lord." Sihtric said.

"He is nothing but a heathen, kill him!" Eadred, a priest, scoffed with disgust.

Uhtred sighed and with a roll of his eyes he commanded "No one is to move."

Eadred stepped forward "Kill him now!" He shouted, pressingly.

Indignation and fury flashed behind Uhtred's stare as he turned to look at the priest "I say no one is to move and no is to speak but me!" He roared with pure vehemence "No one!"

Uhtred kept his stare filled, with complete outrage, locked on Eadred the priest- unwavering his stance taller, he awaited patiently for the priest to step away and that is what he did with slow steps he moved back until he was once again stood beside Guthred- the king of Cumberland. Though Eadred's stare was filled with just as much rage as Uhtred's, he yielded.

Advancing toward Sihtric Uhtred examined him his stare travelling from his booted feet to the scar that lay on his forehead, "What is your name?" He inquired.

"I am called Sihtric, Lord." He replied. "Please...I am not loyal to Kjartan and never can be." I want his head on a spike.

"You swear your sword is mine?" Uhtred inquired.

Although his hands are tied with such force Sihtric nevertheless shuffled them, "On Thor's Hammer, I do Lord." he grabbed the hammer in his fisted hands. "I swear."

"Then you have my protection." Uhtric stated, impressed.

"Lord, thank you." Sihtric sighed.

With a nod of approval from Guthred, "Sihtric is with us now he serves in King Guthred's army." Uhtred authorised with sharpness, firm and strict on the order.

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Dunholm
Kingdom of Northumbria

Had Dahlia known the extent to which her brother would go to secure a marriage she would have found a way to stop him, perhaps stop the breath leaving his devious lips but regrettably she is not privy to his thoughts nor is she informed on the workings of them. Kjartan was ever still firm on his decision, she will wed soon therefore granting him more fighting men through a most miserable alliance- with whomever it may be. And with each passing day the need only grew stronger, enlightenment on a dangerous matter concerning his safety and all that he had built was a vicious catalyst- a false king sought Kjartan's end and her brother would rather see a thousand men fall than himself and so the desire for a grand army only increased.

She should be expected to align with her brother to share the same thoughts but for her this dire matter could be resolved in another way one which did not tie her to another beast for in Dahlia's mind all men serve as aides of the devil.

"I have not asked for much Dahlia." Kjartan sighed.

"No, just my freedom and everything with it." Dahlia snapped turning away from him.

"There will be no freedom..." He smacked his hand down on the desk "If we die."

"You mean you die, not I- you took Ragnar's life and made a show of it brother." Dahlia seethed her stare angered, "And now I have to do as you please so you may live comfortably."

"You have to do as I please because I have made it so- it is the way of things." He snarled, his patience wearing thin the line a mere shade concealed by his weakening strength to contain his grasp on it.

Dahlia scoffed, "Do you think simply because you are a man, it guarantees you wisdom?"

"I have no time for this." Kjartan exhaled momentarily closing his eyes as a form of calming his frantically agitated nerves.

In her moment of dread the feeling had acquired such a tight grip on her that it pierced through bone- the very sensation of desperation, a need to be heard but her brother was deaf to it- no- he only knew and gave attention to what benefitted his interests, the comfort of his sister was naught in his eyes if it did nothing for him.

Dahlia reached over and grabbed a dagger that lay upon his table and put it against her neck.

Kjartan looked to her and stood up abruptly.

"The men of this world are vile- you, as a man, know this to be true." Dahlia snarled, "So I would rather bleed out here than wed whichever brute you have chosen."

Kjartan walked out from behind the desk and approached his sister- Dahlia, in turn, took hurried steps back "This is pathetic of you- put it down Dahlia, you are perfectly fine with protecting yourself." He demanded.

"Gunnar- remember him?" He raised his brows, amused.

Dahlia just clenched her jaw and inched the dagger further into the cold skin of her throat her grip on the tiny hilt of it firm.

"Well, of course you do- I don't for a moment believe he just happened to die in his sleep." Kjartan continued a devilish smirk of humour played on his lips, "Don't fret I am proud."

"I will do it." Dahlia pressed urgently.

He returned her threat with a raise of his brows and a turn of his head finding her words to be empty, "No I do not think you will- you value life far too much."

Keeping her determined stare locked with his Dahlia pierced a small cut onto the flesh of her throat and from that a miniscule barely noticeable drop of scarlet red blood dripped out and travelled down her neck, "I will cut deeper."

Kjartan clenched his jaw from frustration, "When the threat is dealt with you may do with him as you please, I just need men."

"What is stopping me from doing with you- as I please? you said yourself I am perfectly fine with protecting myself." She fumed.

Kjartan laughed he never took Dahlia to be serious- in anything, "I will not be opposed to your efforts but you do not wish me dead, sister."

"If you make me wed another man who knows what I will wish." Dahlia whispered.

"Just drop the dagger." Kjartan demanded impatiently, "I don't know if you are testing me or have decided to be just that senseless but as I have said before- you may do with him as you please once I have eliminated the threat."

Dahlia did no such thing, the blood had now stained her dress.

"You will wed, that is the end of it- now drop the dagger or I will force it from your hand." Kjartan glared, his patience had snapped with a quiet crack that ran through his veins heating his blood- scalding- from the evident exasperation he felt.

Unanticipatedly Dahlia threw the dagger across the room it barely skimmed passed the skin of Kjartan's ear as it crashed and hit the back wall, wiping the blood that had continued to trickle her neck Dahlia walked closer to her brother with seething resentment, "Talking with you is like talking to a brick wall- you do that which benefits you brother but I promise you men are deceitful and you will fall." She sneered threatingly.

As she went to leave Kjartan grabbed her wrist, brutally twisting it and dragging her to stand before him once again- his fingers dug unrelentingly deeper into the skin and his nails pierced at the wrist creating crescent moons atop the space. Dahlia winced yet Kjartan was ever tenacious, "Think twice before threatening me sister, I do not take kindly to such words." He whispered but his tone carried with it a sense of a true threat, an unnerving candour.

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The stillness that surrounded Lynette had began to drive her crazy- or it had already done so- she did not entirely know, or perhaps it was the unrelenting guilt that had clawed its talons into her skin that had taken her to the brink of mania, the hysteria of guilt. Silence once had been a pattern that she had formed a comfortable friendship with, something she consciously sought out of her own volition but now it had taken a wicked form- taunting her tirelessly.

She took the punishment for your sin.

Lynette had built a nest within her solitude which had been torn apart by the constant reminder of Claennis. Her sin had damned her, her disobedience had doomed her and yet Lynette angered by it all did not know why Claennis would do such a foolish thing for her- take the blame, she did not deserve it.

If only she had spoken quicker or louder, if only she had pushed the girl aside then Claennis would be here and not in the presence of some heinous lord- no- heinous serpent that would poison her with his vile venom. It is obstinate, she will not forget she will never allow herself to but- rather- sooner she would capitulate to her guilt and serve herself a punishment deemed worthy, perhaps she should cut the hand that caused all this or sell herself as Claennis was given away so mercilessly- it only seemed right to Lynette.

Why had she not fought harder?

Her stare locked onto her hand unwavering and the longer she looked the more fierce her intention became, sever it, it was as if a familiar voice had beckoned the order- a voice she could not recall but somewhere in her soul it felt close. You must pay for your sin, an all too devoted voice tempted once again.

Before Lynette could do much the door to the room opened and she looked in the direction of the sound.

Fria had walked in, solemn and reticent, she took a seat beside Lynette. Her head down turned towards the ground, Fria is much younger than Lynette- a girl of three and ten she is easily frightened.

"Lynette-"

"I do not wish to speak Fria." Lynette informed with a sigh.

The girl closed her mouth and averted her stare once again to the ground.

It was harsh of her to shut the girl down so swiftly with not even a blink to what she may need but in all truth Lynette really was in no mood for a conversation- she decided it would be best to keep a distance from Fria, from the girls.

Her thoughts were now tinted melanoid, tainted with an everlasting melancholic sensation bereft of what she had once known. In many ways Claennis had become a sister to her, someone she felt a tug of tranquillity beside and now because of her own doing Claennis was taken from her.

"I only wanted to say- that I..." Fria sighed and Lynette looked to her with features devoid of emotion yet somewhere beneath it a trace of defeat and fatigue was discovered- if you look close enough "I miss you." Fria awaited for a response.

"You cannot miss me." Lynette replied, she shook her head.

"But I do." Fria urged, "You do not talk anymore and Claennis-"

"I do not talk because that is my will." Lynette snapped.

Fria was ever resolute, "God will forgive you if that is what torments you but I believe you did nothing wrong." She gently said.

Lynette gave no answer.

"You were only protecting us." Fria whispered.

As if Fria's words were a trigger to her boundless growing mountain of anger Lynette looked to her with abhorrence- she knew it to be more so at herself yet she did not wholly comprehend it as such- "Protecting?" She scoffed, "And where exactly did that get us?"

Fria exhaled with furrowed brows and an expression of dolefulness.

"Look where protecting ourselves has gotten us Fria, Claennis is gone, Sold!" Lynette pressed, her voice tearing with the need for a cry to crawl out of her throat. "I understand it now- a step out of line brings only dismay, we need to tread carefully."

"Will you come back now?" Fria asked.

"Lynette!" Bysen had rushed into the room "The men that left-they..."

Infinitely as the blinding sun shining through a heathered storm Lynette had risen from her seat her heart racing rapidly, tears had welled in her eyes and she knew them to be ones of relief- Sihtric is back, he had promised and he had fulfilled and now she only wishes to wrap her arms around him. Not giving Bysen a chance to continue Lynette rushed passed her and hurried out of the room, running through the gloomy fortress with only one thought in her mind. The hours of unending gloom were now hastily crumbling and an eloquent language of solace henceforth spoke to her- fighting against the guilt, it yielded awaiting for the precise moment to once again seize Lynette's thoughts to twist and taunt as it desired.

Outside the sky appeared blue with the softest accents of white tinting throughout- an azure that hugs mountains and valleys the same, a blissful consolation. Lynette hasted her walk but as she neared the rampart she halted fisting her hands together, her feet unmoving as if they had planted roots to the ground. In the many long years that had passed Lynette had never once walked upon a rampart- never- not once and even now as much as she yearned to do so, she just could not.

"You believe you deceive me?" Kjartan's voice shouted seethed in anger, Lynette stepped back and turned her stare upward toward the rampart, "I know who you are- I know exactly who you are, Uhtred Ragnarson!" He yelled through clenched teeth.

Uhtred? Lynette kept repeating the name over and over again forcing herself tirelessly to place the name, she sighed with defeat when she could not.

"Face me! Face me like a man!" Kjartan bellowed.

Uhtred, Uhtred, Uhtred- who is this person?

As sounds of footsteps neared, impending and belligerent Lynette moved to the side as the doors to the fortress opened up and men rushed through she turned and glanced outside only to feel her heart drop and herself overcome with light-headedness, she could feel her limbs almost give way as if she were about to faint. Her hands intertwined themselves together, knowingly as if her soul has read her and knew, she silently prayed- heads maliciously placed on spikes lined the path to the fortress and she begged that Sihtric not be among them, please, she begged desperately.

Let him not be one of them, please not him, I pray, I beg, I call out, just not him- please.

Lynette had retreated into her mind not wanting to observe the harrowing sight before her she felt a tear escape her eyes and traverse down the icy skin of her cheek, one and then another and then more until her face was overcome with the salty storm.

A grasp, stern and harsh, pulled her back turning her around.

"Rid yourself of the tears, he is not among them." Sven snapped frustrated before Lynette could assimilate her thoughts and even realise what was occuring Sven raised his callous hands up and roughly wiped away her tears in such a way that it would cause Lynette discomfort, he did it on purpose to taunt her.

"He is a fucking traitor." Sven seethed before turning to walk away leaving Lynette stood by the door, to the side- relived that Sihtric is not among the beheaded but disheartened that he is not here beside her as she had hoped, dreamt and longed for.

Each memory of him is tethered to her soul- as her memory is tethered to his- his words a hymn of depth bathed in the bonds delicately crafted between them and Lynette had only them to cling to with fingers wrapped around the remnant so enduringly she believes nothing can sway it, nothing. Lynette will wait, she will hope for only the most prosperous outcome as Sihtric had told her to.

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A/N: Chapter Eight!! I feel so bad for Lynette, miss girlie is strong I would have given up ages ago. Dahlia is desperate to evade the marriage prospect and she's real for that 😭 Anyway I hope you liked this chapter!

Kjartan fight me :)

Do not forget to comment and vote, thank you for reading 🫶