Sihtric's horse wasn't fast enough.
The camp was decimated. Dead bodies littered the ground
And Sihtric's horse hadn't been fast enough for him to find Ghylena.

Beocca was wailing, screaming pleas for his wife, Thyra.
Steappa called for the Lady Aethelflaed.
But Sihtric was pacing, scouring the grass for his fiancé; praying to the gods they shared that she was still alive and well enough to be found. His panic sealed his throat, and if he could scream he would, he would yell and shout and beg as well, but he could barely breathe.

He was so engrossed in his desperation that he did not notice Thyra's return, nor the horse she rode atop.

"Sihtric..." Finan had been searching with him, only now he roughly pulled him aside, "Sihtric, look!"
Sihtric followed Finan's arm, allowing his eyes to recognise Shaeda, without his typical rider, and then he was running towards Thyra.

Even Sihtric, as strong and healthy as he was, could not reach Thyra before her husband had, dragging her from Shaeda's back and into his arms.
Finally reaching the group gathered around the priest's wife, Sihtric whispered with wild eyes, "Ghylena?"

Finan took Shaeda's reins, soothing the horse, looking for any sign of his friend, and finding none but her empty scabbard and a splatter of blood that he moved to hide from Sihtric.

Uhtred spoke now, placing a soothing hand on his sister's back as he asked, "Thyra... Thyra? Thyra, where is Aethelflaed? Where is Ghylena?"

"You will answer," Aethelred's voice sparked anger in Sihtric, but again Beocca beat him to the mark.

The priest seethed, "Of course she will answer!"

Sihtric took a tentative step forward then, "Lady, what happened? Where is my... where is Lena?"

"I— I do not know. We ran and... and she, Aethelflaed, was gone. Then Ghylena came, she saved me. 2 men were chasing me, and she killed them. She rescued me, and then, then she went after the Lady." Thyra was breathless and her voice shook, cracking near the end.

Aethelred and his men began planning, sending out search parties for Aethelflaed and yapping orders, but Sihtric didn't care. All he cared about was Lena, and she was gone.

"Which way?" Sihtric gripped his sword in hand now, preparing to search the the forest, Finan and Uhtred preparing similarly.

Uhtred once again pulled Thyra from her reverie, "Thyra, which way did she go?"

Turning towards the forest, the men around her moved to follow her directions before halting in their tracks.
A lean figure, bloodied and unsteady, limped from the tree line.

Sihtric felt his eyes water, then blinked back the tears before sprinting ahead of everyone else. Uhtred and Finan followed behind him, the three men kicking up the mud behind their steps.

He wasn't fast enough.

Ghylena stumbled further out into the camp, her beautiful face and hair coated in a thick layer of blood and ichor. She looked more like a walking corpse than the 'dead man' Bjorn had.
Sihtric called to her, "Lena! Ghylena!"

His fiancé took one more step, her legs gave up, and she collapsed to the ground.
And Sihtric wasn't fast enough to catch her.

<>

Ghylena never expected to find the sounds of a marching army and horses' hooves to be soothing, but in that moment— with her head tucked into Sihtric's neck and his arms around her back, holding her to him— she felt more tired than she ever had.

"Sihtric?" She croaked, her voice scratchy thanks to the purple fingerprints which bloomed on her throat, "Where are we?"

Unaware that she had woken up, Sihtric tightened his grasp on her, afraid to let her go.
"Wessex, huntress," He pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of her head, "We're to leave this army soon and head home to Coccham."

The rumbling of Sihtric's voice in his chest was soothing, and Lena closed her eyes again, comfortable in his presence, trusting him to keep her safe. Trusting him not to let her fall from the horse.

Her chest still hurt, but thankfully it was just badly bruised— no broken ribs.
The weeping cut on her thigh had been cleaned and wrapped, and the ragged tear across her back and shoulders was thankfully only surface-level; Thyra, being the only woman, had been the one to wrap a bandage around her torso for that particular wound.

Ghylena felt battered, bruised like rotten fruit.
Probably look like it too, she thought.

Uhtred's sister had made her thanks known repeatedly, as had Beocca. Ghylena couldn't remember ever hearing the phrase "thank you" so much in one day.

Timidly, Ghylena raised her head to look across from her, catching sight of Shaeda beside them, his reins tied to Sihtric's saddle. Her weapons had been retrieved, then. They sat on his saddle, as clean as ever.

Looking further up the line, Lena made eye contact with Finan, who sent her a grin and a reassuring nod. She was unaware of the concerned glances the Irishman had been sending her whilst she slept. He had been the one to retrieve her weapons, the one to see the carnage she had left behind, and the beasts of men she had killed.

She tried to smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace.
The horse's trot jostled her ribs with each step, and breathing hurt.
Everything hurt.

Uhtred was even further ahead, but he looked as strong as ever and unharmed.
Good, Ghylena thought, Gisela will be pleased her husband is whole. What the sight of her sister will do to her...
Lena wasn't looking forward to that particular berating.

Beocca and Thyra rode ahead of them all, sharing a horse like Sihtric and Lena were—but unlike Ghylena, Thyra was riding astride, able to keep herself awake and upright.
Ghylena could only catch a glimpse of the bright red hair and priest's grey robes before her neck grew tired again, her head drooping back to its rest at Sihtric's shoulder.

"Sleep, Lena. I'm here, you're safe."

A whisper was all she could manage, "I know."
She fell asleep again.

<>

After they left the larger army that headed for Winchester, they rode for the remainder of the day before setting up camp that night.
When they had first stopped, Sihtric had gently woken her, whispering into her ear as Finan approached them. Sihtric tentatively handed his fiancé over to Finan as she slipped down from the horse.

Once she was off the saddle, Finan silently holding her in his arms, Sihtric had swiftly followed and traded his horses' reins for Lena, carrying her bridal style before gently setting her down on the grass.
She had fallen asleep again whilst camp was set up, no one brave or stupid or uncaring enough to wake her and risk the wrath of the men who loved her.

The sun had set and the moon had risen, the stars a comforting blanket above them all as they ate dinner. Lena was cradled upright in Sihtric's arms to eat something.
His arms and legs caged her in, keeping her warm and secure, wrapping her in him.

Once they had ate, she lay down, her tender body nestled to Sihtric's steady bearing.
She wasn't asleep, content to enjoy the warmth of the fire and the soothing rhythm of Sihtric's hand as he stroked her shoulder, careful to avoid her injuries.

"Sihtric, I know you won't like this, but you're the best man for it..." Uhtred began, breaking the silence.

"I need you to take Rypere and go to Beamfleot, where Erik and Sigefrid's fleet lie— that is where they'll be. I need you to confirm the Lady Aethelflaed is alive and how they are treating her," Uhtred spoke gravely, with Sihtric silent, "Send Rypere back to me at Coccham with your news, you will remain there and you are to spy. We will need to know every part of Beamfleot."

"But, lord—" Sihtric began.

A rasping croak interrupted him, "Go. Sihtric, go."

Even Uhtred looked shocked, his gaze locking on his sister.
Finan leaned closer to Ghylena, probably trying to stop her from straining her voice, but she batted his mothering hand away, weakly sitting up.
Sihtric's hand ghosted across her back, frozen at her words, but not so surprised that he wasn't holding her close.

"Go to Beamfleot. Spy. I will stay at Coccham. I will be safe." Her voice wavered, each word a challenge, but powerful.

Sihtric was still silent, staring at Lena, then at Finan who simply nodded.
Looking up at Uhtred, Sihtric nodded, "Yes, lord. I will leave tomorrow."

A shaky breath of gratitude escaped Ghylena who subsequently sagged into her fiancé, determined to sleep as much as possible on the journey home.
It was in her best interests to look as healthy as possible before reuniting with her powerful, protective, big sister.

Word Count: 1448

up next: 'blood and oaths'...