Blood Moon| The Last Kingdom| Sihtric Kjartansson

FORTY

I turned to Emil, staring at him calmly, "My son, what are we to do?"

Emil swallowed, wringing his hands together, "We are to attack."

"Attack who?" Saga asked him, not harshly but testing him as I was.

Emil flushed under the attention of the council, "Attack Brida?"

"We have to devise a plan to get into Eforwic," Rúna blurted out, stepping forward slightly, her hands going behind her back.

I forced my smile down at the confidence in her face, "Why?"

Rúna did not falter, "Eforwic is a fortress. They have high walls and a strong gate. We can not simply march towards it. Our warriors would die if they did because Brida is likely to have archers."

"Very good, Princess," Torben praised her softly, the council sharing delighted smiles as Rúna led the conversation.

Rúna trained her eyes on me, determination burning, "We have to find Jarl Sigtryggr on the road before we march onto Eforwic. He will know a way to get into Eoforwic without using the gate."

I let myself smile this time, "You are clever beyond your years."

Rúna took another step towards me, down from the platform the throne resided on, "I wish to serve you, My Queen." She bent her knee, shaking slightly from the unfamiliarity of it. "I wish to serve Northumbria. Let me fight."

Saga sucked in a sharp breath behind me, as did many of the council.

Rúna was playful and young, but she was also cunning and strong when she needed to be. She was better than me when I was twelve, and she had a natural born talent for leadership.

"Rúna," I sighed, stepping towards her and extending my hand for her to take, "you are too young to lead warriors into battle."

"But—"

"No," I told her simply, helping her stand, "but, I will let you watch the fight," I glanced over to Emil who picked at the skin around his fingers, "with your brother."

Emil snapped his eyes to me, a smile growing rapidly on his face, "I am allowed to witness the fight?"

"And only to witness it," I emphasised sternly, turning back to my council.

"We prepare for battle?" Torben and the others all stood.

"Yes," I agreed, "Eforwic belongs to Northumbria, and I will not wait for Mercia or Wessex to aid it. We will send seventy warriors."

"And who will lead them?" Isleif asked me calmly, writing down notes in a thick tome he carried everywhere. He had taken an example from Alfred of Wessex.

"I will," I spoke plainly, "they are my men, and this is my feud. I will lead my warriors."

"Then, I will ride with you," Saga blurted, her face aged by time but her spirit still as quickfire and sharp as ever.

"Your Majesty," Aegir sighed before turning to Saga, "Commander, you can not simply leave Dunholm unattended."

"It is not unattended," I tilted my head to the side, "Torben will rule as regent until I return, with Prince Hrafen beside him."

Some faces on the council soured at the mention of my youngest, but Torben beamed at me.

"I will take him fishing," the man boomed happily, "he loves reeling them in!"

I returned his smile, nodding, "Then I am entrusting you with my throne, and my child."

"I will not fail or falter," Torben swore, thumping his chest twice. His armour had been worn down in the area across his heart from how often he struck it there.