WRATH OF WAR [BJÖRN IRONSIDE]

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

Loud breaths was heard from the brown horse as it galloped through the last open field before the thicker forest in the mountains. Long bond hair was blowing in the wind, flowing like the stream down the hills. It was chilly up north, winter was past a long time ago yet it was never fully summer in the cold mountains, them always being somewhat covered in snow. She had her long cloak on, it was flowing equally as freely in the wind as her hair. Soon the smell of burnt wood filled her nose and she pulled the reins, her eyes quickly roamed her surroundings only form them to land on a once lit fire. A long string of smoke lingered in the air like a ghost above the black charred wood. The sound of a branch snapping was heard in distance and she placed her hand above the dagger than hung by her waist as her eyes looked in the direction of the sound. She clicked her tongue and the horse started to walk slowly in the direction of the watch. Another sound of a branch snapping was heard, yet this time it was further away. She clicked her tongue again to pick up the pace, not wanting to waste energy and healing for her already injured flesh on useless things.

The sky was grey, almost fifty different shades, from almost white further south to dark grey in the north. Thicker clouds that wasn't equally willing to let the sun slip through. She rode for a while before she could spot two dots of fire further away. She frowned as she rode towards it and soon she could see two large black shadows underneath it. Two men was riding towards her, large cloaks hung over the black stallions, two large swords on their backs and a burning torch in their hands.

"Halt!" A deep and raspy voice echoed between the smaller trees. Vál gripped her dagger under her cloak but relaxed once she recognized the men before her, they belonged to Vidar. They were young men. One had pitch black hair and the other had chestnut brown hair, both of them were styled into slick buns and growing beards covered their cheeks. She saw the necklaces hanging around their necks. "What's your business up here?" The young man spoke.

"I need to speak with Vidar." Vál said and the brunette glanced at the man beside him in the corner of his eyes before looking back at Vál, looking at the swords on her back.

"You're trespassing." The black haired man said, his chocolate eyes giving her a glare.

"Trespassing? That was new." Vál said and she chuckled flatly.

"You're on our territory." The brunette spoke and she smiled a little.

"I know." Vál said. "And as I said I need to speak with Vidar. It's urgent." She continued as her eyes roamed their faces that was being kissed by the warm light from the fire. A faint neigh left the brunetts horse. Their leather clad hands held the reins tightly in their hands.

"You're not—" The black haired man spoke yet was cut off.

"I'm Vál Thyrsdottír and I need to speak with Vidar Sigmundsson!" Vál demanded as the thought their behavior was getting childish.