.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

THE
BETRAYAL

Year: 878
Location: South of Cair Ligualid, Cumbraland

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。

Amongst Ragni rambling to Sihtric, she had lost sight of Uthred. The man's annoyingly rich words were lost in the air, no longer beating against her patience. It was quiet, unusually so. The Danes and Saxons that had fought amongst one another now sat or stood conversing. They were separated, organizing on each side of the meadow on their own free will. No doubt the consequence of having the pair fight, and batter one another. There was tension, even in this Holy Army.

Uthred's disappearance did not go unnoticed, the men that had dispersed returning to Tekil and the adler. "He is with Guthred, along the Roman wall." The youngest of the group informed, breathing rather heavily as he did so. No doubt, he had ran. Beads of sweat dotting his forehead, and staining the front of his tunic.

"And the news in camp?" He asked the other Dane that came wandering back, his tunic lacking sweat or any hint of distress.

"They speak of Ragni," he told Tekil, his words hushed. "Retainers and friends of Jarl Sigurd." The man spoke further, causing Ragni to lean in further in an attempt to hear more.

Ragni's sat froze, partially due to her shock and the look Tekil turned to give her. She had assumed in those years of disappearance from her father's land she would've been forgotten, if not presumed dead at the hands of Uthred's men or those that came after. Had yet to come across another who recognized her, given the drastic change in her matured features.

"And you've furthered their discussion?" Tekil questioned, returning his focus to his men.

The man nodded. "Mhm," the man hummed, looking back at Ragni. "They have expressed their respect for her father and her."

"She should make an appearance amongst the Danes," Sihtric spoke, sitting up from beside Ragni. "Speak to them-."

"And risk her exposing us?" Tekil responded, followed by the agreed hums of the other Dane. "Seeing her will be enough."

Ragni couldn't keep her mouth shut anymore, had grown tired of holding her tongue. She parted her lips, prepared to defend the fact that she did in fact have ears. Tekil had not spoken to her since the group left Dunholm, unless one counted his personal threats, and demands. He had taken to speaking more about her than to her.

"Enough for what?" She snapped, making a point to squeeze between Tekil and Sihtric. A brave move, but she was too annoyed to be bothered by the possibility of punishment.

The Dane's turned toward Ragni, Tekil included. "Your marriage to Sven relies on supporters," he spoke slowly as if he was talking to the daft. "Without any, you'll be worthless." He sighed, before returning to the young boy.

It made sense, enough for Ragni to keep her mouth shut. However, her hate for Tekil only grew with his statement. There was a reason for her betrothal to Sven, she had been too blind to see it then. Now, as she peered upon the distant group of Dane's she saw it. Even in this meadow filled with Christ-Crawlers, were men who remembered her father, men who would support her when called.

"They are alone?" Tekil asked the Dane boy.

He nodded. "Just the two of them."

That was all the information Tekil needed, for the group began to rise. The men fastened their thin cloaks and collected their valuables from the ground. Then came their weapons, swords, and axes fixed at their sides. The most important instrument of a Dane, and one Ragni lacked.

As they began to make their way to the infamous wall, Sihtric fell into step beside Ragni. "When we find Uthred and Guthred, run back to the camp, find your father's supporters." He whispered, his words barely audible.

Ragni's eyebrows furrowed. "I cannot, Ulfhild will die."

Sihtric frowned. "She does not need your protection in Dunholm." He informed, before moving to Tekil's side.

No matter how many times she thought of leaving her captor's side, or how many times she could've done so she did not. Was stuck to Tekil, bound to the man with invisible ties. While Ulfhild was still in Dunholm, she would be the hostage of Kjartan. No matter the distance, or the company the man owned her. So she followed in silence, taming her tongue, and intrusive thoughts.

But it was Sihtric that left her perplexed, the man Ulfhild deemed trustworthy being the most talkative. He acknowledged her where the others turned their backs, or spit in her direction. The man was the only one to ride at her side and entertain her boredom. Even now as he walked beside Tekil, she couldn't help but chew on his words. He wanted her to run, to flee toward the throng of the Holy Army.

No doubt, the plan of Kjartan. The man after all was his son, bastard or not. He proclaimed to hate Kjartan, 'detest' him and yet he stayed in Dunholm. Ulfhild could trust Sihtric, but Ragni would be damned. There was a motive to his niceties, just as there was to any other man. She would not trust him and quickly discarded his advice to flee.

Upon reaching the Roman wall, the group slowed, crouching against the earth underfoot. Below in a valley stood two figures, their words carried on the wind. Uthred, and Guthred. They appeared at ease, venturing down the length of a small stream. The boy was right, they were by themselves. The perfect opportunity.

"Ready?" Tekil asked.

"I need a weapon," Ragni suggested.

To Ragni's surprise, Tekil nodded in agreement, shifting against the stone wall that resided before them. "Your weapon." He grumbled, picking up one of the massive stones and dropping it in Ragni's outstretched hand.

"A few more, and you can stone Guthred to death." One of the men jested, giving a frustrated Ragni an amused grin.

Dropping the stone with a turn of her wrist, she gave up on the simple want. She should've taken an axe when she was in camp and found a way to conceal it. A fault, and mistake she'd own up to in that moment.

"Take Uthred alive, kill Guthred," Tekil repeated, receiving an assortment of understanding from the group. "You two, fetch the horses." He pointed out the two responsible, both moving to creep back toward the encampment.

After such they descended over the wall, and down the small hill into the valley. Running toward Uthred and Guthred, the group quickly met Uthred and Guthred. Ragni herself remained a few paces behind, a weaponless spectator. Perhaps it was best, being in the possession of a weapon would've furthered her desire to avenge her kin.

Thus Ragni watched as Tekil knocked Uthred's sword out of his hand, a fight commencing among the pair. A fight that ended with Uthred on his backside, his head underwater, and a Dane sitting squarely on his chest. It was a short-lived fight, lasting but a few seconds.

As for Guthred the man was pinned to the ground quicker than Uthred, a sword pointed at his throat, and his mouth agape in horror. His hands held outward, palms facing the Dane who held the sword. "Uthred!" He shouted, only to receive silence.

Taking a step forward toward the group, Ragni found herself in the same situation Guthred was in. The edge of a sword at her throat, and a hand on her shoulder. It was Sihtric, his eyes filled with hesitancy as he met her glare.

It was apparent then, in that very moment. They were going to kill her, lay her down beside Guthred for the Saxons or Danes to find. It was a trap, from the beginning. From the moment she left Dunholm, they had planned on killing her. But for what reason? Was her engagement to Sven not plausible enough? Was her supporters less than another?

"Uhtred Ragnarson," Tekil spoke, now crouched beside a gasping Uthred. "and I do believe you met Sven the One-Eyed not long ago. He sends you greetings."

Uthred was silent, only his gasping breath leaking from his lips.

"It's a pity," Tekil told a gasping Uthred, the man spitting up water with every inhale. "You killing the daughter of Sigurd, and the King of Cumbraland. The Danes and Saxons will be displeased, ask for your head." He emphasized, pointedly looking to Ragni. "But Sven asks for your eye."

Again, silence from Uthred.

"We have a long journey to Dunholm, Uthred Ragnarson." He mused, before turning toward Sihtric and Ragni. "Sihtric."

Sihtric frowned, unmoving. Frozen, he ignored Tekil.

"Sihtric," Tekil repeated.

Sihtric's face twisted, and his blade drew closer to Ragni's throat grazing along the scar that resided there. Closing her eyes, Ragni prepared herself to meet her kin. Couldn't deny the fear that now swelled in her chest, and bled through her body. It was numbing, that pestering thought of death.

.・。.・゜✭✫・゜・。

INDEX

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