A Whisper to the North

Chapter LX ✠ The Judas Kiss

Una was galloping on her grey horse, running through the fields, tarnished crimson and black from bodies and fire. She had just lost her sword with it being plunged into armor that was impossible to take out. Her horse's eyes were wide, blood-stained on its white pelt. It blew air out in fright as she turned it around, viewing the point of which the next group of Mercians would come. She saw one now, running without his helmet. His wild mahogany hair was twisted and knotted. He had a short sword.

Una thought fast and unfastened her belt. Una took the scabbard of her long sword that was attached to the belt. She beat the horse's ribs with her stirrups and set the beast into a hard canter. She swung the scabbard and bludgeoned the side of the man's head with it, rendering him unconscious. He fell face-first in a puddle of water, blood, and ash. She watched as the bubbles of air rose out in the pool, filling his lungs with sludge as he slowly suffocated.

Una knelt her head up to the sky. The rain was pelting them in a frigid blanket.

"Please, no more," Una begged, staring up at the sky.

She looked down and saw there were no more bubbles in the puddle. She slid off the horse, covered in blood and speckled with mud. Her rump was so sore from riding, and her shoulders ached. The stitches in her arms had festered when she tore them a few days ago after she knocked out Njord. She felt nauseous and cold.

"Please," Una said as she sloshed through the mud.

A distant crack of thunder was in the distance.

"There she is!" Una heard a voice cry out to her.

She looked around, eagerly anticipating someone to come to her aid. Una was in bad shape. Her wounds had festered, her body was sore and tired, and she felt as if she was going to puke. Blood was caked in her hair, and her cheeks burned in the cold. She could barely squeeze her hands together for warmth.

Another crack of thunder hit, and the horse reared up.

"Easy, easy!" Una said, trying to console the horse, but her voice only further frightened the horse.

Una's voice was hoarse and barely able to utter words. Her shrill cry made the horse turn and gallop off in the distance toward the voice.

"I'm here!" Una cried.

She was so relieved someone was there. It was just her now. Everyone around her was dead, or soon to be.

"Here!" Una barely uttered out as her voice cracked and tore through her throat.

She had never been this hoarse in her life, from screaming, from sickness, and her suffering.

"Please!" Una said, slogging through more mud and body parts toward the voice.

She could see a glint in the distance through the forest. She watched the horse run to them, and suddenly it reared up again. The horse turned and brayed as Una watched in horror. A man on horseback took his sword and cleaved it into the top of the horse's neck. Somehow the horse was still moving, still screaming and whinnying. She watched as it ran in circles. Its neck that was partially severed was jiggling around to the side as blood spewed out in thick dark streams. The chunk of the neck was barely holding on since the spine was so low in the horse's neck. The horse finally stopped circling and fell over on its back. Its legs were kicking in the air as blood gushed from its lacerated neck.

After the poor steed fell, Una could see the man who did this. He took off his helmet and gazed down at Una. His face was emotionless. Una fell to her knees as she saw who it was on horseback, wearing Mercian armor.

"Yvar..." Una could barely speak as hot tears poured from her eyes, stinging her cheeks.

"No." Una cried as she pushed her hands in the mud and bent her head over.