Blood Moon| The Last Kingdom| Sihtric Kjartansson

THIRTY-FOUR

☾

I stood over Daga's body, breathing heavily, his blood dripping off my sword to the ground, creating a small puddle.

His heart had fallen silent moments before, his struggle ended, and his soul falling to the underworld, never to find solace or hope again.

Silence filled the courtyard.

A low humming distracted me from the dead body, and I raised my head slowly, turning around.

Siriana cradled her bloody rock, smiling down at it, "Dreamed me a dream last night, about silk and honest stake."

I swallowed harshly as she twirled around, stepping into the square with me, her back turned to me. "Siri..."

Siriana did not hear me, still singing the lullaby; the rock was covered in flesh and blood, chipped in places by bone. Gunhild's. Siriana had killed her painfully, avenging both herself and my mother without realising she had done it.

I cleared my throat, reaching out to her and touching her shoulder, "Siri."

Siriana spun around, her eyes wide, a slow grin growing on her face, "Gyda!"

I forced a small smile, glancing down at her rock, "Your baby is beautiful."

"Isn't she just?" Siriana propped the rock up, "I laboured hard with her, though."

I nodded slightly, lowering my hand down her arm, "Are you well?"

Siriana met my eyes, her cheeks flushing as she stepped towards me, her hand touching my cheek, "I am blessed, Gyda! I am so glad to see you again!" She turned then, addressing the crowd, "Do you know who this is? She is my husband's daughter!"

A chorus of polite acknowledgements circled the crowd.

Siriana turned back to me, her voice still raised, "She will lead us one day! My husband decided this!"

"Siri," I whispered, dropping my sword to the ground, taking her face in my hands, "today is that day."

Siriana's eyes cleared of their haze as though she was lucid again, "It is?"

I nodded quickly, pressing my forehead to hers, "I have taken Dunholm."

Siriana shrieked in delight, jumping back from me, her rock hitting the ground as she clapped her hands together, "Gyda! Our Gyda! She has saved us all!"

I swallowed harshly, looking around the crowd that had formed.

A thump drew my attention to Saga, who, despite the bruises and cuts littering her face, stood tall, her shield striking the ground. More followed her example, their shield and axes hitting the ground, the rhythm striking my bones every time it echoed.

"I swear my oath to Jarl Gyda Brynjarsdóttir as commander of the Jarl's guard!" Saga's voice boomed.

"I swear my oath to Jarl Gyda Brynjarsdóttir as a guard of the fallen Jarl's guard!" Torben's voice shouted as well.

More chants of the same oath circled me, growing louder by the second as more people joined in, and soon, all I could hear was my own name in my ears.

I glanced at Siriana, going to thank her, but she had returned to nurturing her rock, so I left her in peace, slowly stepping out of the square and heading for the crowd.

"That was beautiful, Lady," Finan chirped as I approached him and Uhtred, clapping his hands slowly. 

"It is Jarl now, Finan," Uhtred corrected him jokingly, "you have to address her properly."