𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 | 𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

This chapter is dedicated to Butterflyhgg
Thank you for
your kind comment,
darling one.

The journey to Werham was uneventful and oddly miserable. Bryn assumed it was because most of the men thought they were marching to their deaths. She, on the other hand, was giddy at the prospect of fighting. Ever since Leofric taught her how to fight, she'd been dreaming of the day she could finally test her skills against someone other than her family members.

Although taller than most girls her age, she was still small for a Dane girl her age. She suspected it had something to do with her early birth, but, in truth, she had no way of knowing. Maybe the gods really did hate her. But, why then, would they have given her the gift of seeing the future?

Perhaps her gift was an afterthought, a substitution in place of her height.

Leofric instilled it in her mind early on in her training that her stature was something to readily be taken advantage of. Being small meant being underestimated and deemed easy to kill. Therefore, rather than teaching her how to use brute force like he did with the boys, he thought it best to teach her how to be light-footed and quick with her sword. He taught her to strike, swift and true, before her opponent could even think of harming her.

"Either of you up for a little sparring?" Bryn asked Vikar and Orri after they finally finished setting up camp. They were to share their tent with Uhtred and Leofric.

"We should rest, conserve our energy for the battle to come," Orri told her.

"We don't even know if there is going to be a battle," Vikar interjected.

"Well, if there is one, I'd prefer going into it well rested," Orri declared, nodding at his brother and Bryn, "You two should do the same."

"Battle or not, I've got too much energy to rest right now."

Since Leofric was off with his men and the boys were being exceedingly too dull for her, Bryn decided to take a walk to burn off some of her excited energy. She made it from one side of the camp to the other when she stumbled upon Father Beocca. She didn't know him very well, but he was kind to her during her time at the palace. Uhtred certainly liked the man, and he talked about him enough that Bryn felt like she knew him well enough to approach him.

"Good evening, Father Beocca," she greeted as she came to stand beside him. "What are you looking at?"

"Your brother, he's speaking to the king," he said, pointing out into the field in front of them. She followed his finger and, sure enough, there was Uhtred, speaking to the king.

Uhtred and Leofric instructed her to stay as far away from the king as possible. She assumed the request came at the expense of her general lack of respect for authority figures. It was no secret that she didn't much like being told what to do, and being around someone who could all but command her to do something wasn't particularly appealing to her. As a result, she agreed to stay away from the king. When she unexpectedly conceded without protest, Uhtred and Leofric ultimately decided to keep the true reasoning behind said request to themselves.

The true reasoning behind why they didn't want her anywhere near the king was because they somehow managed to keep the extent of Bryn's gift a secret while they stayed at the palace. As far as anyone knew, she was unwell and had fits sometimes. Uhtred and Leofric knew, of course, that Alfred had probably heard rumors about her gift, what with his spies lurking about within any and every corner of the castle at all times. They feared what would happen if it was proven to Alfred that those rumors were, in fact, true. Would he accept this gift that goes against everything he believes in, or would he condemn Bryn to death, claiming her to be the spawn of satan?

Uhtred and Leofric dared not to find out.

"He's becoming agitated," Bryn said after a few moments of watching Uhtred with the king. She could tell by the way her brother was standing, and the way he not-so-subtly shook his head behind the king's back, that he was losing his patience.

Father Beocca glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He was standing on her blind-side, so his little peek at her went unnoticed. He, too, had heard the rumors of her gift, but since Uhtred made no mention of it to him, he didn't quite know what to believe. The fairness of the splotch on her skin that extended into her hair and the cloudiness of her right eye were all easy enough to corroborate upon meeting her, but he suspected that that was where the truth in the rumors ended.

"How do you know he's becoming agitated?" He asked her.

"I'm his annoying little sister. Trust me, Beocca, I know."

"Fair enough, perhaps I should go separate them." When he began to walk away, he bowed his head slightly when he knew she could see him. "Good night, my lady."

Before Father Beocca could even make it out to them, Uhtred was already storming in their direction. He paid no mind to Father Beocca as he passed him, heading straight for Bryn instead.

"Would you sneak into his tent in the middle of the night and kill him if I asked you to?" He asked when he finally reached her. He threw his arm around her shoulders, causing her to fall into step beside him as he guided her back to their tent to retire for the evening.

Bryn snorted. "We'll be executed for treason."

"Not we, you," Uhtred clarified, dodging the fist she sent in his direction.

Although she rolled her eyes at his antics, she couldn't help but grin. "Conspiring is still treason, brother, and I'll be sure to tell them it was your idea before they execute me."

Uhtred pretended to gasp, feigning the shock of betrayal. "You wouldn't dare."

"No," she concurred, shaking her head. "I would not."

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