And just like that, both Ulf and I are at the mercy of our queen.
Blood is slathered across her face and chest, painting her in her true warrior form. Her hair is mussed. Her eyes are wild. The world bows at the feet of my hugrekki.
Men lay in bloodied heaps, their fate ended with a swift swing of her sword. Let this be a lesson to those who believe she will be defeated with ease.
Now that things have calmed somewhat, I realize the real war is between Emeline and me. There is a hardness about her which I fear was erected when I left. I thought it was to save her heartache. But I was wrong.
“Well, this reunion is as comfortable as being locked inside an iron maiden.” Ulf has picked up on the animosity.
And he is right.
Emeline can’t stand to look at me.
“What is your name?” she asks the man who still lies with his face in the mud.
“Fuck you, whore.”
“Fuck you, whore…seems rather suitable for a swine like you,” Ulf mocks, before stomping on the man’s hand and breaking it.
“You will take us to Aethelbald now.”
“Why would I do that? If you do not kill me, then he will. I am dead either way.”
Emeline mulls over his words.
He’s right.
We need collateral. Something he would fight for.
“What can we provide that Aethelbald cannot?” I ask, hoping Emeline doesn’t have my head for intervening.
“Yes, Fuck You Whore,” Ulf pipes in, tossing his blade in the air and catching it repeatedly. “Why shouldn’t we cut off your tiny prick and feed it to you?”
“Just go over there.” I point in the distance as Ulf’s smart mouth isn’t helping us.
“You are a good Christian, then?” Emeline asks, looking at the crucifix that hangs from his throat.
“Like all good Englishmen,” he confirms.
“Pledge your loyalty to me, and I will ensure your family are taken care of. My kingdom needs new religious guidance. Perchance you can lead the way?”
I look at her, shaking my head.
What is she doing?
She is welcoming this arsehole willingly into her kingdom when he was minutes away from doing gods know what to her?
I understand the dire circumstances we face, but we can’t trust this man.
“We need to talk.” I grip her elbow but am surprised when she yanks her arm from my hold.
“Unhand me, heathen. I do not require assistance to walk. I have survived many moons without you…you ensured it this way.”
Ulf hisses in a sharp breath, granting me sympathy for what’s to come. He takes over watching our prisoner as I follow Emeline to the woods.
Her rapid strides indicate her rage.
But I follow nonetheless.
