.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

POWERLESS

Year: 878
Location: West of Dunholm, Northumbria

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。

Ragni was not certain of many things, but she was certain of one thing since they left Dunholm. They knew she would not run. There were nine of them that rode from Dunholm, two of which Ragni undoubtedly knew. Tekil rode ahead, bantering with another. The man's rambling carried on the wind, pushing past the other seven riders ahead of Ragni.

His ramblings consisted of Saxons, women, and priests. All of which Ragni tuned out, instead choosing to focus on the scenery that surrounded them. The trees of Northambria bellowed and bent with the wind, tall grass dancing with nature's gentle caress. A sight Ulfhild would've adored, considering their confinement as of late.

"You plan on killing him?" Sihtric spoke from ahead of Ragni, his horse coming to a stop until she reached his side.

Riding beside him, she turned her focus upon him and away from the trees. "Uthred, or Tekil?" Ragni asked, rewarded with a brief smile from the Dane.

Sihtric's lips moved comically. "Tekil I can understand," he began, slowing his horse a few paces. "Uthred I do not."

"He killed my father and brother, what is there not to understand?" Ragni countered, turning away from Sihtric and back toward the group that rode ahead of them.

Sihtric was silent for a moment until he raddled off with another flow of words. "They were killed in battle," he breathed as if it was an answer. "A weregild is not required, and neither is your vengeance."

Ragni's nose crinkled with the words and bitter annoyance. She most definitely preferred his silence, rather than his words. Had been tempted to tell him just that, but the fear of boredom foreshadowed the thought. Thus, she'd entertain. "Would you not do the same?" She turned in her saddle, making a point to look him in those eyes of imperfection.

"No." He said without hesitation, his body swaying with the gate of the dappled mare beneath him. "He is not a father to me." He justified when Ragni gave him a look of disbelief.

"And for your mother, would you not do the same?" Ragni would've held the same determination if it was her mother instead of her father, despite the strained relationship between the two. But it was her mother who died of illness, long before Uthred killed her son and husband.

"Perhaps," he began, the word elongated with its pronunciation. "I never knew her."

Ragni nodded, recalling his early statement of the women who birthed him. "Kjartan sold her?" That would be a logical answer, selling the thrall he impregnated.

Sihtric shook his head, brown and green eyes drifting toward the dirt path ahead of them. "She died giving birth, at least that is what I've been told." He spoke without sorrow, the words drenched in a factly manner.

Ragni would've apologized, but as he said he did not know her. And one could not mourn someone they did not know, at least in Ragni's opinion. "You must've inherited her eyes." An apology of sorts, spoken with a softness and accompanied by a small smile.

"Perhaps," Sihtric murmured, before jolting his horse forward, marking the end of their short-lived conversation.

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

It was nightfall when the group stopped, settled beneath the trees of Northambria, and gathered around the smallest of fires. The lot talked amongst one another, laughing and jesting. All but Ragni, keeping herself to the outer edge and away from Tekil. She did not necessarily fear the man, she merely loathed him. The sight of him breathing hitting ever nerve in her body, just as her ears burned with every word he spoke. Another, she'd vow to kill when things settled.

Until that moment came she'd do what was asked, keeping her lips sealed, and her hands clean. It was Kjartan's threat after all that kept her tamed, leaving her feeling useless. Made her constantly grieve the separation between Ulfhild and herself, the wry of her harm tapping away at her consciousness. She did not trust Kjartan, nor did she trust those around her.

But it was Ulfhild who encouraged her to trust Sihtric, claimed their fates were entwined, and bound. Ulfhild genuinely believed he was one of the few they could trust, though Ragni could admit she had her doubts. A snake tattoo and Ulfhild proclaimed him worthy. Laughable, even if the vision was right.

"I will keep watch." A young Dane spoke up amongst the group. "Make sure she doesn't slit our throats." The boy added, looking at Ragni with uncertainty in his dark eyes.

"She won't boy." Another Danes mused, before looking in Ragni's direction. "Will you woman?"

Another unnamed Dane threw his own thoughts on the matter into the mix, tossing a small rock in Ragni's direction. "If anything she's bound to coddle you." He mused, finding the circumstance in itself comical.

Tekil laughed from his position on the ground, his eyes closed, and his cloak wrapped tightly around him. "Scared of the girl, or the horsemen?" He hummed, as his laughter died.

"I'm not scared of the horsemen." The young boy murmured.

Crouching before the fire Sihtric smiled, turning toward the boy. "Then you're scared of the woman." He stated, before nursing the pitiful fire with twigs and small branches.

Better to be scared of a real being, rather than a ghost. The horsemen? Sounded like nothing more but a tale, one based on frightening children. And it appeared to be doing its job, for the young Dane most certainly looked frightful beneath the annoyance he wore.

Nonetheless, Ragni took to ignoring the conversation, finding it in her best interest to keep her mouth shut. She could've furthered the young boy's fright and ran her mouth had she so fondly done. But Ulfhild conquered her mind, as did Kjartan's words. She was their thrall, weaponless, and powerless.

It wasn't a position she hadn't been in before, finding herself in a similar situation after the death of her father and brother. But this was far less cruel, in a way. Agony taking her over mentally, rather than physically. The men around her kept their hands to themselves, and Ragni at arms reach. A perk of being Sven's betrothed, she supposed.

Coming to her side, Sihtric stood above. "They were wanting to tie you to a tree." He whispered, his eyes keeping to those around the fire.

Ragni would've if she was them. "And they haven't."

Sihtric nodded, his lips pulling together in a thin line of thought. "Not yet." He murmured, passing Ragni the leather water skin he held with tight fingers.

Taking the offer, she sipped from its contents. To her bewilderment, it wasn't ale. "How do you plan on abducting Uthred?" She asked, swallowing the water that coated her tongue. It would be a hard task, and Ragni most certainly couldn't come up with a to succeed. He had an army around him, commanding both Dane and Saxon. It was impossible, even if Ragni hated to admit it.

With a deep inhale, Sihtric sat down beside Ragni. "We will offer him our swords, in service of Hergist of Heagostealdes. And from there, we will take him when he is alone." He spoke as if it was that simple, a snap of the fingers or a leap over a puddle.

"And the King?" Another burning question, but Ragni found the conversation an escape from her thoughts of both Ulfhild and Kjartan.

"We will figure that out along the way."

That wasn't the answer Ragni hoped for or needed. "Without a sword, I'm as useless as a toothless dog," she attempted, glancing over at Sihtric with a frown. "Cannot protect myself, or this lovable group." She was trying, aching to have a weapon at her side, or in her hand. Surly they knew she would not kill them, and would be as docile as before.

Sihtric looked utterly shocked with her words, his eyebrow-raising, and his mouth parting. Had she grown a third eye while speaking? "And have the dogs teeth in my back?" He scowled, his upper lip twitching.

"I cannot harm any of you," she countered, handing back the water skin. "If I could I would've already." She murmured, more to herself than the Dane that sat beside her. It was true, she found numerous occasions she could've killed at least four of them. Each seeming to have the bladder of a welp, and the awareness of a heifer's arse.

Sihtric did not move or speak for a moment, only the subtle blow of his breathing being audible. "He will not harm Ulfhild." He reassured, rising from his position beside Ragni.

"How are you certain?"

"I know Kjartan." He admitted, before leaving Ragni to her thoughts.

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

INDEX

Weregild ➳ (Alternative spellings: wergild, wergeld, weregeld, etc.) was a reparational payment usually demanded of a person guilty of homicide, although it could also be demanded in other cases of serious crime. The payment of weregild was an important legal mechanism in early northern European societies, such as those of the Vikings, and Anglo-Saxons; the other common form of legal reparation at this time was blood revenge. The payment was typically made to the family or to the clan. The word means, literally, "man price".