Vagabond | The Last Kingdom

Four

"That's what they call moving on,"

"We can move on together"

─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───

Despite my initial desire to distance myself from Leofric, Iseult, and Uhtred, I now found myself in a camp, with Iseult by my side, while Uhtred and Leofric were entrenched on the frontlines of the battlefield. 

It wasn't for a lack of trying on my part, but rather Iseult's unwavering insistence that I remain by her side. Eventually, Leofric followed suit, reinforcing the boundary that kept me tethered to their side.

The atmosphere was tense, awkwardness hanging between us like an unspoken truth. Uhtred had yet to apologize for his harsh words, and despite Iseult and Leofric's attempts to mend the rift, the damage appeared irreparable.

Surprisingly, Leofric had evolved into one of my closest companions. His sarcasm and humour, coupled with a caring side, occasionally reminded me of Atlas. The camaraderie we developed was an unexpected bond in the midst of chaos.

Chaos, is inevitable, a constant companion in this era. It was a term casually thrown around daily, encapsulating the atrocities unfolding between Saxons and Danes.

Our days were consumed with Leofric's instructions on swordsmanship and self-defence, while our nights were filled with reflections on both the past and the expanse of the future.

The cacophony of battle engulfed us, cries and screams reverberating through the air like a haunting symphony. In the midst of chaos, Iseult seized my hand, her eyes brimming with urgency as she slipped a ring onto my finger, prompting a confused glance from me. 

"We need to run," she urged, just as men on horseback infiltrated the camp attacking everything and everyone showing no mercy. A menacing figure blocked our path, Skorpa. Iseult looked back at me, desperation clouding her eyes. "Run. Leave. Go far away," she pleaded and I shook my head defiantly, shakily unsheathing the sword Leofric had given me.

"I'm not going to do that, and you know it," I stated firmly, seizing her arm and pulling her behind me as she protested.

With a swift movement, Skorpa grazed his sword along my waist, the searing pain knocking me off balance and sending me crashing to the unforgiving ground. Clutching a hand over the profusely bleeding wound, I fought to regain my composure amidst the chaos.

In the harrowing aftermath, I witnessed a gruesome scene unfold before my eyes. There, in a heart-wrenching instant, Iseult's headless body lay sprawled before me, a testament to the brutality of the conflict. The sight seared into my consciousness, a haunting reminder of the merciless toll exacted by battle.

A profound sense of dread engulfed me as I beheld one of my closest companions lying headless before my eyes. The sight ignited a fierce surge of rage within me, propelling me forward with a singular purpose. With every fibre of my being ablaze with determination, I chased after Skorpa, driven by an unyielding resolve to avenge her, despite my limited skill and the overwhelming odds stacked against me.

The battlefield unfolded before me, chaotic and fierce. I navigated carefully, spotting Leofric on the ground. I rushed to him, cradling his head in my lap zoning out everything around me.

"Don't die on me, please," I pleaded as salty tears ran down my face, a mixture of grief and overwhelming pain. 

Blood gurgled from his mouth as he spoke, each word weighed down by the gravity of the moment. "Don't let Uhtred bring you down. I know you have it in you to rise above and survive this," he managed to articulate amidst the struggle for breath.