I stumbled from the tavern and down the street, back towards the Inn as laughter bubbled up from my throat. Uhtred grabbed my arm and pulled me against him. My body was at his mercy as it flopped against him drunkenly. I laughed again.
"I'll get you to bed, Red," he laughed as he carried me towards my room. I was a bit too incoherent to make steps, so he ended up just picking me up and carrying me the rest of the way. He dropped me on my bed and stumbled backward himself as he tried to fumble my boots off. I laughed again, trying to contain myself.
He laughed, too. "Damn Finan and his drinking games," he said around a laughing fit. He started to lean forward as he tried to pull my boot off, and his head bumped into my thigh.
I laughed and shoved his head playfully with my leg. He stumbled a bit and then sat on the ground, resting against the side of the bed. "I can not take it off," he slurred. "You will have to do it yourself."
I giggled and tried to form words. They came out slurred, but I managed to say that I was not worried about the boots. The room spun around my head sickeningly, and I closed my eyes against it. I could still feel his presence there as I started to fall asleep, but it was comforting, and I was glad someone was here with me.
With the business of informing the King over, we were dismissed to our own business, and most of that business had consisted of drinking and playing games at Finan's suggestion far too late into the evening. I felt content, though, as I had not had so much fun in so long. Every time we were all together, we had fun, but tonight had been exceptionally fun, and I finally felt like an integral part of the group. I was finally actually one of them.
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I dreamt I was running through the woods again, scared and alone. The dream ran me in a different direction, and I never ran into the camp that would save my life. I never ran into Uhtred. Instead, I slowly starved out in the trees. I watched as my body withered and died. I watched even still as it decomposed. Ravens plucked at my eyes, and boars ripped at my flesh and left nothing but bones.
I woke with a pounding heart and grasped at my chest.
Still alive.
My breath slowly settled, and my heart rate slowed. The feelings of adrenaline were slowly replaced with the feelings of a deep hangover. I groaned and laid back on the bed. I laid for a while, wallowing in my own self disgust and trying not to throw up. Did it work? No.
I felt the saliva gathering against my lip and sat up, grabbing a pitcher next to the bed, and heaved up hot bile into it. I set the pitcher back down and wiped my face with my shirt.
Fuck.
I urged myself to get up, and eventually, I was able to pull myself up into a sitting position and peel my clothes away. I stood and padded over to the basin. I used the basin to wash myself as best I could and then started to redress. After I got all my clothes and armor on, I felt a little better. I ran my fingers back through my hair and tried to pull it to one side. It took some doing, but eventually, I managed to get it to look less ratty.
I wandered down to the stables, avoiding the tavern and its savory scents of breakfast. I started saddling the horses between long pulls of water from my waterskin. Uhtred was the first to show up at the stables today, and he approached me with a smile. He held out a little white cluster of mushrooms. I recognized these as something my brother had called "food of the Gods."
I accepted them with a smile and chewed them eagerly, swallowing them down with another gulp of water. I knew that the mushrooms would bring some relief from the terrible hangover relatively soon.
"You drink more than some men," Uhtred laughed softly before eating a mushroom himself.
"It is my bane, Lord," I joked in response.
Finan approached with Sihtric in tow, and they both looked slightly less miserable than us. Uhtred winked at me and went to his horse. Apparently, he had no other mushrooms to share, or he chose not to.
We left Winchester behind, heading north towards Dunholm again. Once outside of Winchester and we were alone, Uhtred turned to us and informed us that we were going to Dunholm to join with Ragnar's men and then upland to fight the Scots.
"A raid, Lord?" Finan asked.
"A squabble," he informed. "Ragnar does not make peace as easily as I."
I had not met Ragnar, so I could not say for sure, but I assumed that Uhtred knew his brother best.
"I've sent word to men in Rumcofa. They will join us there," Uhtred said
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We beat our axes and swords on the front of our shields as we approached the enemy. Without Alfred's watchful eye, it felt like we were free to behave as Danes should behave. The pounding of our weapons rose like thunder as it reverberated up through my arms and into my chest.
I gripped my axe tighter, and some men near me started to chant with throaty songs. "Oh, Odin, Oh Odin, Oh Odin." I pounded my axe on my shield in tune to the chant of the All Father being conjured, and each step forward matched the beat that pounded inside of me.
At this moment, we felt invincible and emboldened. "Oh, Valhalla! Oh, Valhalla! Oh, Valhalla!"
I glanced over to Finan, directly next to me, who looked slightly uncomfortable as he held up his shield. He nodded to me, and I smiled and called to him over the sounds of war chants, "Until the last."
He snickered, and some of the tension left his shoulders. "Until the last." I could only imagine he was nervous being surrounded by Danes chanting about their Gods. I looked down line to find Sihtric. He was next to Uhtred, and he chanted along. His eyes caught on mine for a moment, and excitement was shared between our gazes.
Another step forward, and we were pressing closer into the enemy, close enough that we should prepare for collision. Uhtred called out for a shield wall, and we interlocked our shields over each other and braced against them.
"As one." He called out.
"As one." We all replied in a thunderous clash of voices as we took a step forward. Adrenaline thrummed through my veins like lightening with each step and only intensified. "As one." Another step, and I could feel the electricity flowing into my fingertips.
The familiar weight of a man pressed against the outside of my shield, and I pushed back against him. Finan slid his sword in between our shields above my head, and the weight intensified. The sound of steel on wood and steel eating into flesh was a new song of battle, and I felt myself singing along.
"As one." We stepped forward and over the dead. The man I stepped over grabbed for my leg weakly, and I swung the axe down at him to prevent this occurrence. Weight pressed against my shield and intensified as more bodies clamored against the shield wall. It became almost unbearable, but I held on. A hand slid through between my shield and the man next to me, and I chopped down on the wrist, removing it from the arm. The sword remained in the hand as both fell towards the ground, but not before hot blood spattered across my neck and cheek.
Blood pooled underneath my boots and made the ground into a soupy mess that sucked at my boots.I pressed my weight into my feet as much as I could as the weight in front of my shield became heavier. My cheek itched from the blood that trickled down it, but I dare not move a muscle.
"Ease."
We stepped back as one being, easing back, we responded in kind. "Ease." And again. "Ease." The weight of my shield felt too light now, and I wiped my cheek with my shoulder quickly now that I had the chance.
Men started chanting again. "Thor, Thor, Thor." Their voices brought my energy back, and I joined the chant. "Thunder, Thunder, Thunder." Their voices rolled out the sound like they were conjuring a storm. I could feel the calls echo inside of my body. The chants made it feel like thunder rolled within each man and between us all like one creature hell bent on victory.
"As one." We stepped forward again. "As one." Another step. I looked down the line of men to my left again and saw Sihtric near Uhtred still. His eyes were pointed forward, and a dangerous edge had hardened his features. I felt a yearning growing within, even now.
"As one." I directed my attention forward as we clashed against the enemy again, and again, the song of battle engulfed my senses in blood and steel. I gripped my axe and swung whenever I saw a peek of flesh, which was not often. The shield wall was tight, and I felt the pressure to escape the wall and go sword to sword rising with each moment.
"Break." The command finally came, and we dropped our shields from the interlocked wall to face our enemy head on. I was lost in the song now, the song of steel on steel, man on man.
I flipped the axe in my hand and chopped sideways at an approaching enemy, catching his upper arm and cutting a swath through his armor that pulsed with eager red, I chopped downwards as he fell past me, cutting into the flesh between his shoulders and cutting his life short.
I spun into a second attacker, meeting shield with shield. The sound of wood meeting wood invigorated me, and I shoved forward and stepped on his foot. I slid the axe further down in my hand and ground the eye of the steel onto the top of his foot. He shifted his weight, and I shoved forward again. He lost his footing that held him in place, and I used it to kick his shield into his chest.
He stumbled back, and I kicked again, the shield banged against his sternum, knocking the breath out of him.
I sliced down at him, but he held his shield up and caught it. I swung again, drawing on the fury that lived within me to grant me the strength. His shield started to splinter, and I swung again with a war cry, splitting his shield. It splintered off, and I kept swinging until he was forced to throw it away and raise his sword in his defense. He clamored back and got to his feet.
His eyes were full of wild fear as I cried out again and charged him again. He raised his sword, and I swung for his midsection. He missed my swing with his sword, failing to block, and the axe hinged into his ribs. He fell on his knees, and I shoved my boot onto his chest as I yanked the axe free of his rib cage.
Hot fresh blood slung from the axe as I rose it again and clung to my face in tiny droplets. I swiped the back of my hand across my forehead and then down my nose, streaking the blood down my nose as I asked Thor to guide me forward, to make me as sharp as a blade.
I sampled inward the fury within once more and gritted my teeth. This was the place I could let it out. This is where I could scream and swing and kill and maybe feel some semblance of satisfaction to dampen my untethered rage within.
I screamed again, swinging at the nearest man and catching him where shoulder meets neck. I shoved him off and twirled right, slicing again and catching a man in the back. As he fell away, I stepped forward and swept the axe under his chin and up across his jaw.
Fury pulsed under my skin as I pushed forward with my shield raised. A tall man shoved his shield up against mine and attempted to swing over the shield at me. I dodged away and waited for him to approach again with a slight smirk. His eyes gleamed with fear as he noted my blood marked face. I faked like I was going to jump forward, and he flinched like I had tossed boiling water towards him.
My smirk turned to a grin, his fear of me caught me as funny at the moment, and I couldn't help but laugh. Which only served to scare him more. He looked like he might piss himself. The thrill of battle pulsed in my veins. I felt like Thor had made his appearance here, maybe even inside of me, and I felt feverishly eager to continue on this warpath.
I twirled the axe in my hand. His eyes flicked to it, and I took the chance to propel forward and shoved my shield back against his. When he shoved back, I shifted my weight and spun away. He surged forward with the momentum of his shove, and I swung Fenrir's Bite for his neck. It took its bite as it desired, and he fell limply to the ground, his head flopped lazily toward his shoulder, and a fountain of blood flowed eagerly from the wound.
The haze of bloodlust swirled over my head as I pushed forward. Slicing though a few more men. The song had changed now. It hinged desperately towards the final chorus as things began to dwindle, and I felt sad for it to end. I felt sad that I would have to put the fury back in chains until next time.
I put the concern to bed. The battle wasn't over yet, and fury could stay to play a bit longer. I caught a glimpse of Sihtric tangling with two men, and the heat of fury beating in my chest turned slightly to the side of passion. I moved in the direction of him. I watched him in glee as his body moved with the grace of a skilled warrior. I stepped past a man fighting someone else and swung my axe into his side, and ripped it free.
I approached the three men and banged one in the back with my shield. He turned quickly to face me, leaving his comrade to continue the fight with Sihtric. I raised the shield and stepped forward, pushing into him more as I braced against what was next. He took a step back and kicked at the shield, but it didn't move much towards me. I waited for a second attack as I peeked over the edge of the shield with my blood tinged eyes.
He swung his axe at me, and I raised the shield to catch it, but it began to splinter. I had to wait for my moment, for my chance. I could hear Hakon in my ear, telling me to wait for my moment and strike like a snake. He swung again, grunting on frustration as he broke the shield piece by piece. The edges became jagged, and I shoved it towards him when he swung, catching his arm and ripping into the fleshy part of his forearm. He yanked it away and glared at me.
I tossed the shield down and raised Fenrir's Bite in both hands. My shield arm felt strangely naked now as the hand gripped the handle of the axe. "Try again," I called to the man. He surged towards me, and I moved to block as Sihtric shoved against him suddenly and slid his sword into the man's chest.
He looked at me and nodded. The sight of him excited me, especially here with all the adrenaline in the air. His face was blood spattered, like mine, and a thin sheen of dust and grime and sweat covered the strong muscles of his arms, making me feel.. powerful to be near him. My skin tingled as I thought of his powerful form on top of me.
I watched his chest the space of a heartbeat as it heaved each breath, and I felt fire raging inside of me for a separate reason. I tore my eyes away and looked back across the field as the last few men were falling. People were already wandering around the bodies, checking the dead and the survivors.
I swallowed against the anger, unsatisfied within me, and started folding it up, trying to shove it back in the box, but it didn't quite fit like it had before. I turned towards a man nearby, groaning and rolling on the ground in a pool of his own blood. I raised my axe and chopped it down at him. The battle cry within me ripped out again, and I swung again. He was dead, but I swung again and then once more as I yelled down at his corpse.
I wanted this to be Erik. I wanted to let this fury go towards him. I wanted to channel every ounce of the inferno within me out into ending him. I wanted to pummel him, chop him into pieces the same way he had done my brother. I wanted to burn his body with hate and piss on his grave. I wanted to dump my rage onto him and kill him a hundred times.
Hands grabbed my shoulders and pulled me back against a solid form. Arms wrapped around my chest and held me against the form behind me. "I got you," Sihtric whispered into my ear. He pulled me back away from the corpse, and I scooted along the ground, settling between his legs as he held me tightly.
The fury started to retreat back into its dark dusky hole. It just slipped away with the press of his embrace. The further it moved away from me, the more I felt. My body was exhausted, my joints hurt, every muscle trembled with exertion, and my lungs burned from yelling and singing.
I turned to look at him, a cut on his cheek trickled blood, and I reached for it instinctually. My fingers trembled as they reached upwards. He grabbed my hand in his to stop it from making contact. My fingers burned with the contact. "Are you okay?" My voice was horse and hurt my throat on its way out.
He nodded his head. "Are you?"
The truth was, I wasn't sure. I was tired, and I was angry, but his presence soothed me. "I am now," my voice struggled out. He pulled me to my feet, and I pressed into him. I wrapped my arms around him, and he hugged me back firmly. His heart beat against my chest was steady and strong and pulled me further back into the moment.
He let me go after a long moment, and we walked towards the center of the field of bodies towards Uhtred and Finan. Ravens gathered overhead, breaking the silence of death with their calls, as they had come to gather the souls of the dead for Odin. I smiled up at them.
Finan grinned at the sight of us and yanked Sihtric into a hug and reached for me too. I smiled and let him pull me into the group hug. We hugged each other tightly, and the scent of sweat and blood and earth was so string it made me dizzy inside the embrace of two of my favorite men. Sihtric broke away as Uhtred placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled him into him instead.
Finan kept squeezing me. "Until the last, friend."
I giggled hoarsely and patted his shoulder. "Until the last."
Uhtred placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I brought my hand up to grip his. My fingers trembled from gripping the axe and shield. He pulled me against him into a new hug. After a few moments, he released me and smiled around at us.
"We all survive to fight another day," his voice was heavy with emotion, and his eyes held a glint of weariness.
With all the hugging over with, we stood around in a half circle and watched as plunder was gathered and bodies were sorted. My muscles ached, and my legs trembled, but it felt good. Here I was, standing with these powerful men after a victory in battle, and I survived, not only survived but maybe even had shown my own skill and valor. I had earned my place here. I truly felt that way.
"You three should go back to camp," Uhtred said
"Lord?" Finan asked.
"I want to stay a bit longer," he said softly. It seemed there was more to it, but perhaps he saw something here on the battlefield that we could not. The way his eyes scanned the field, I would say that was it. He saw something worth witnessing.
We did as he said and headed back to camp. I took one last look over the field of dead, though, and saw the ravens landing among them. I could almost imagine the souls of the dead drifting up towards the sky. I turned away and followed behind Sihtric, back towards camp on exhausted limbs.