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Not another Irishman

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The roads were traveled by nothing but merchants the odds of an ambush were so slight that it was stupid to even think it. Yes of course there was no way a band of four men a once queen and children could be over taken. Finan grumbles to him self as he swings around in circles of the tree, Hesten the slimy bastard has hung him up dry. His head was pounding so loud he could hardly hear the weasel talking out his arse. “Report which one dies first.” He commands two of his men as he turns away from the tree full of men. He and his group leave off into the woods they had crept out of.
Leaving with the order to slit their throats which currently to Finan sound beautiful. His lord continues to swing himself forward in hope of reaching his sword sat just in front of his face, Finan on the other hand continues to hang and swing the life having fled out of him with his blood journeying to his head. That is until he hears Sihtric’s name being grunted out looking up he sees the boy in front of him squirming around grunts and groans escaping his open mouth, his face beginning to turn a awful purple color with raised veins protruding. “Okay look at me, you’ll be fine” he gathers himself enough to try and reassure the young Dane as their lord yells his own commands. Just then from the tree line is a ear splitting scream causing the guards to stop and stare at one another. The screaming continues and one decides to venture off on his own, it is dead silent in his absence the other man beginning to worry. “Orim” he calls out gaining no replay. The longer he calls and still nothing the more worried he becomes. As he ventures into the woods Eadith runs out hurrying to help the men. She rushes to an unconscious sihtric cutting his hands lose then swinging an ax at the thick rope bound to his feet, it takes more than one swing to get through and have the man fall to the earth in a heap.

Once all are free uthread picks his sword up and begins to plan for freeing his daughter. “They do not know she is yours.” His right hand man tries to bring comfort hand clasped on his shoulder. Before he has time to respond however their is cracking from the woods, someone carelessly stepping over twigs and leaves. Each man grabs at his weapon pyrlig and Eadith stood in the back of the seasoned warriors. “ Jeg flyver til enhver udenlandsk part,
Assisteret af mine spredte vinger:
Min krop har hundrede hjerter,
Nej, jeg vil fortælle dig fremmed ting:
Når jeg ikke har travlt med at ride,
Og så reparerer jeg mit tempo anon;
Jeg udsender brand fra min side:
I vittige ungdommer, denne gåde." A female voice rings out clearly Danish though Finan has no idea what is being spoken. Shitric turns to uthread confusion on his face though a small smirk accompanied the look. Under a cleaning of trees pops out a small band of people a woman leading dressed in pagan leathers, six men surround her equally dressed for battle they Cary heavy spears and axes their shields lazily held in their arms. They appear however not to spot the wary warriors as they continue to laugh Amung one another. “en ravn?” One man scratches at his beard in thought the girl shakes her head with a youthful smile on her face. Beneath the muck and paint she looked nothing like a warrior just a innocent maid. “forkert” She giggles out a skip to her step.

“bevæg dig ikke længere” uthread calls out in their tongue catching their attention swiftly the men stand to attention ax held more steadily in hand and conversation long forgotten. The girl hold her hand up steadying her men with a cock to her head “du er hedensk?” She asks looking from shitrik and uthread to Finan then Pyrlig. Uthread tilts his own head with a rise of his shoulder “ehhh” is all the response he gives. “Who are you?” She demands shocking the men by her English. “Seriously you know English? Why do you people always do this?” Finan complains under his breath no matter how funny he thought speaking in his native tongue was he hated when shitrik and uthread would speak to each other in danish, if only he understood. “Ughhh do not tell me it’s another Irishman!” She wines out with a stamp to her foot causing her war ready men to snicker behind their shields. “Who are you.” Uthread throws back invading the Dane girls question. She looks them over again then sighs. “Kara.” She supply’s shortly. Uthread nods for her to go on. She hesitates momentarily. “My brother is one of the men who is holding the castle in Wessex, my men and I have been dragged along to follow Hesten the weak.” She explains looking almost bored instead of fearful in any way. “We could trade her.” Finan speaks lowly to his lord though it carries with the wind. “You could try I suppose but Sigtryggr would never allow it.” She laughs good natured. “It could be a lie?” Pyrlig calls from the back ever so helpful but shitrik shakes his head. “Could be the truth.” He conters thinking of his own half brother Sven would never trade for his life perhaps her brother was just as awful. “I have nothing better to do today might as well try.” She shrugs turning to her men. “mister ham ikke” she speaks to them in danish again. They don’t give an answer just put their weapons away and walk on into the woods with out the woman.
The men look around one another confused it had to be a trap but they couldn’t see where. “who do we trade for, a wife?” She asks mildly looking around the ban of unlikely men, Christians ,Pagans, A lady by the looks of it. “We must go now.” Uthread ignores the girl nodding to shitric to grab her arms before they take off into a sprint.

Panting the woman Kara turns to the man holding her hostage as if she hadn’t willingly gone with them. “You speak danish no?” She asks curiously he surly looked like a Dane but she had yet to hear him speak. He nods his answer causing her to roll her eyes with a chuckle. “Irishman, do you like riddles?” She calls just slightly ahead to Finan who ignores her completely. If she had known how boring being captured would be she would have continued to spy on Hesten. “A ship.” The young Dane speaks suddenly still staring straight ahead as if it hadn’t been him. Kara smirks up at the man, he could be fun at least. Finally all their running had paid off when they made it to the gates of Wessex crouched down behind a mound of earth. “What now? You shout out of your prize? hope they don’t shoot us both down?” She asks with a twinkle in her eyes. Uthread grunts looking around spotting a few simple farmers being let through the gate with supply’s. “I will go in and find them.” The girl declares from the back. “No it will be dangerous and you will not be able to free them.” The irishman protests causing Kara to sqint her eyes. So he had a woman. “No but it may bring them hope knowing you are here.” She demands and sets off the find a basket with some vegetables in it uthread helping her.
Kara turns to Finan the Irish “your woman she is brave.” She compliments looking him over. She could understand why the woman would be with an Irish bastard based off his looks. His hair hung in a soft looking shaggy mess his handsome sculpted face and those arms. He was indeed a good looking man. “I don’t have a woman.” He corrects uncomfortable clearing his throat. “ how about you do you have a husband in there?”
Kara glances at Finan out of the corner of her eye. “No, I’ve no husband in there.” She insists looking back to the woman sneaking her way in.