Danish Fate || the last kingdom

|TWO|

3,506 words

THE band of brother quickly had discarded the small group of Danes, making their route to the church a quick one. The plan had worked with Osferth being the distraction so the others could move into place and than attacked, at Uthred's orders. Now all that remained was the supposed witch, Skade, inside.

Finan was to Uthred's left, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman through the open window, but could not find her. He wondered what she looked like and if she truly was as evil as Haesten had described.

"Haesten says she's of the devil," Uthred warned his men as he approached the door. His hands were full of his weapons, prepared for what laid behind the door infront of him. Having grown up as a Dane, he believed whole heartedly in the magic of the Gods. His Pagan beliefs led him to know how strongly a person could communicate with the gods and be gifted blessings by them to perform spells and curses. He knew of those that had worked for the God Loki, using his name to perform wicked acts and than he also knew of those that had worked for the Goddess Freyja, using her name to bless others with love and kindness.

Uthred knew, deep in his gut, that this Skade was not with Freyja, but the likes of Loki.

"T'an," Finan threw out a thought, "it m'ght 'ave been an i'dea to barge the doors and burn the w'ole place down."

"Why not," Sihtric agreed, of his own fear of the soon encounter with the witch. He knew from first hand how powerful a women truly could be and he himself did not want to be on the side of her rath.

"For dead," Uthred rose his brows as he pushed his sword against the door, "she will be priceless."

The group entered the church, looking around noticing all of the carnage that had gone on inside this room. A priest had been nailed to a high beam, his head hung in death; another had been gutted and laid beside the ashes of a fire. But what frightened the men the most was the women who leaned against the alter, waiting patiently for them to arrive. She knew they were coming and she knew what was to happen next, for the gods had shown her, her path.

Uthred's eyes noticed the organ that was in her hand, his eyes moving up and analyzing her. Her hair was as white as snow, she had a pair of piercing gray eyes that felt as if they stared deep inside at his soul. She was the one they called Skade, he knew just by a single glance.

"You are Skade," he asked her as the rest of his men entered the hall. She did not speak, for her man removed his sword and took a stance ready to attack. Uthred quickly locked eyes with him as he yelled, "you! Will do nothing except go to your Lord! You will tell him, Uthred of Bebbanburg has his witch."

"I knew it was you," the witch spat out, keeping her cold stare on Uthred.

"There will be ransom to pay," Uthred quietly said as he was locked in her gaze.

"No," she shook her head, "you will go to my Lord and tell him that from this moment forth, that Uthred of Bebbanburg is cursed."

The tension in the room grew upon her words as she held the heart out for all to see. Her eyes never once faltered from Uthred's gaze and he felt his blood run cold at her words. She truly was of the devil and as much as he knew he shouldn't believe in such things as curses, he found himself slightly afraid. Though he would not show it to her or anyone in this room.

"The witch," Skade continued, "holds his heart in her hands and she will," her hand tightened around the heart as she sneered at the man before her, "squeeze it. And break it."