They form a council of sorts in Alfred's tent.
Uhtred keeps his body angled towards Leofric, and looks to him frequently for support.
They are to leave the marshes that afternoon. Leofric helps with preparations, and catches sight of Uhtred talking to Beocca as he walks the boards, fetching and carrying.
When Beocca has departed, no doubt to stay glued to Alfred's side, Leofric approaches Uhtred.
"Ready to go, arseling?"
"Yeah," Uhtred says distractedly, his eyes on the retreating back of the priest. "He's going to try and keep watch on Asser," he murmurs.
"Good luck to him," Leofric says bitterly. He has no good feelings towards that man.
"I take it you trust him as much as I do?"
Leofric grunts in agreement. "If he's staying with us, I'll be sleeping with one eye open."
"Me too," Uhtred agrees. "We can look at each other," he jokes.
"I think that sort of defeats the point," Leofric grins, appreciating the sentiment. "We can always take turns in keeping watch."
"Or do it together," Uhtred suggests. "Just like the old days."
It is strange to think – those days were not long ago. They only used to have to watch each other's backs; now, in only a short space of time, the number of people they care about has doubled. There is more to lose now.
They take to the forest for cover as soon as they can after leaving the boats, walking in silence.
Uhtred stops ahead, and then starts approaching slowly, stealthily. Iseult and Alfred drop back, allowing Leofric to catch up to Uhtred. They lean in, close together, looking between the trees.
"Wulfhere and his men," Leofric says quietly.
They approach together. There is only one person there, and it is not Wulfhere.
"Put that piece of tin away, boy," Leofric says, slinging his pack down next to Uhtred's as though it's the most natural thing in the world.
"What do you think? Really?" Uhtred asks quietly as they crouch in the undergrowth, keeping watch.
"It's not my place to speculate," Leofric says, "and that's all it would be. I can't speak for anyone but myself."
He wonders if Uhtred knows what he thinks anyway – Uhtred's suspicions are written plainly on his face, and Leofric wonders if it reflects in his own eyes.
Alfred joins them, and the conversation ends abruptly.
A group of Danes ride past where they are crouched in the trees.
"We cannot use the Roman roads," Leofric says, looking to Uhtred.
"We can make our way to my farmstead," Uhtred replies, catching his eye, "and from there, across covered ground to Odda's."
"And that is the safest path, Leofric?" Alfred asks.
"It is, Lord."
Uhtred looks to him. "Let's return to the others."
The farmstead is quiet as they approach. Leofric glances at Uhtred.
"There is pain here for you, my love," Iseult says, her voice trembling.
Uhtred and Leofric spur their horses forward in unspoken agreement, riding together into the village.
Uhtred dismounts, and Leofric follows immediately, remaining behind Uhtred as he bends to inspect a body.
"Do you know them?" he asks.
"Tenants," Uhtred replies, then sets off towards his house.
The hall is ransacked, and Leofric waits in the doorway, unable to bring himself to intrude. When Uhtred comes rushing out with purposeful steps, Leofric follows, only stopping when Uhtred drops to his knees on the ground and begins digging into the earth desperately with his bare hands. Leofric feels a cold sense of dread trickle down his spine. Uhtred draws a bundle of cloth out of the ground, sobbing brokenly.
The realisation of what's in the bundle has Leofric stepping forwards determinedly. He doesn't know what he can possibly do, but he can't just stand idly by either, far too far away from Uhtred to provide any level of consolation. He takes another step, his heart aching, but this time he feels a hand on his forearm, holding him back. He can only watch as Iseult passes him to give the comfort to Uhtred that he yearns to.
Instead he stands, a silent sentinel to Uhtred's grief, even as the others drift away, unable to watch.
He only turns to leave when it becomes apparent that they are not moving apart.
"Where is he?" Leofric asks, when Iseult enters the house alone.
"He's gone for a walk," she replies, her voice distant. "He wants to be alone."
Leofric nods and walks out, ignoring Iseult's small noise of protest.
He finds Uhtred where he expected; where he'd always come to clear his head during the early days here. The hill overlooks the farmstead, with forest to the front and back, and the lake stretching off to the side.
Uhtred seems unsurprised that Leofric has found him here; he doesn't even glance at Leofric as he sits down next to him. Besides, if he'd really wanted to be alone where no one could find him, he would have chosen somewhere else, somewhere Leofric wouldn't know of.
"Iseult said you wanted to be alone," Leofric says, as though this explains his presence.
"You never were very good at taking a hint," Uhtred says. There's a touch of humour in his voice, even though it doesn't show on his face.
"If you don't want to talk, we can just sit," Leofric supplies.
"I think, perhaps, it's not a bad thing I'm not alone," Uhtred says after a while. "I've hated the world for so long, I almost didn't notice it had died down. These last few months… It's like we didn't even comprehend of a world beyond those marshes. The real world seemed so distant…" He chokes off the rest of his words.
Leofric understands what he means; the sacrifice of another life hadn't felt real in comparison to the baby who had been there with them, wailing and deathly pale.
"No one could have known how close to home it would be," Leofric says, and he's not sure who he's trying to reassure. "Iseult seemed upset."
"I don't blame her," Uhtred says, a little too quickly.
"I never said you did," Leofric gently reminds him.
"I abandoned him," Uhtred says, and from the anguish in his voice Leofric can tell that this is the crux of it. "He was my son." His voice breaks on the words.
Leofric reaches out to place a hand on Uhtred's thigh; is surprised when Uhtred grips back, tightly, unyielding. His fingers dig into the underside of Leofric's palm. There is no apology he can express in words. Instead he lifts their joined hands enough to brush a rough kiss against the back Uhtred's hand. It's an awkward gesture—he was not made for this—but Uhtred seems to appreciate it.
This is the comfort Leofric could not give him earlier, in sight of all those people. Here there is no one to see them. They could be alone together anywhere, and it would not change this.
"Will you keep watch tonight?" Uhtred asks, as they walk back through the forest.
"Of course," Leofric says, and waits for Uhtred to explain further. He can sense that he's going to, can almost feel him buzzing next to him with unspoken words, as though he's just trying to work out how to say it.
"Iseult and I…" he trails off. "Well, we don't know how long we've got, do we?"
Leofric nods in understanding, admiring Uhtred's diplomatic wording for a change.
"Which is why it'd be stupid not to do this," Uhtred continues thoughtfully, and presses Leofric against the nearest tree.
It is only just daylight when Uhtred and Iseult come striding out of the forest.
"Morning," Uhtred greets him, although he does not sound as cheerful as Leofric would have expected.
"Sleep well?" he asks, trying for a cheeky smile, but Uhtred does not even look at him.
"He means did you hump well?" Halig chips in.
"I know what he means," Uhtred replies, in the same dead voice. Leofric looks quizzically at him.
"Sleep well lady?" Halig rudely asks of Iseult. Leofric cuffs him over the head as he passes. Uhtred makes no move to do the same.
"What's wrong?" Leofric asks quietly as they ride together at the front of the group.
"She knew that my sister was alive," Uhtred tells him. "That's what Skorpa told her, when he whispered in her ear. She knew – and didn't tell me until now."
"Could you have done anything, even if you'd known?"
"I wouldn't have wasted time in those marshes, for a start."
"Perhaps not," Leofric agrees. "But without you we might not have even made it that far. Think about it – if you'd gone straight off from Cornwalum, I still would have been rotting in that cell until the Danes arrived and killed me."
"I would have taken you with me," Uhtred says quietly.
"In which case Alfred would have been completely undefended, his son would be dead, he never would have made it out of the marshes, and England would be lost."
"Since when did you become so reasonable rather than just blindly following me?" Uhtred huffs, but concedes the point.
"I'm still following you blindly, arseling," Leofric admits quietly.
A group of men ride towards them in the trees. Uhtred and Leofric move forward to meet them, whilst the others hang back.
"Your horses belong to whom?" Leofric asks, instinctively taking the lead.
"The Lord Odda. You will let us pass."
"You selling or buying?"
"Selling. To the Danes," the man says. Uhtred looks at Leofric. "There is a peace. Did you not know?"
"Odda has made a peace? No, I did not." Uhtred looks pointedly behind him at Alfred. Leofric glances at Uhtred, sees the smug smile on his face.
Leofric cajoles his horse into moving aside to let the men pass, and Uhtred does the same.
They ride into Odda's estate together, staying close to each other and dismounting at the same time.
"It is strange to be back here," Leofric murmurs as they are led into the hall.
"Leofric! Uhtred, my prayers have been answered!" Aethelwold crows, arms thrown open in a gesture of welcome. Leofric glares at him. "God is good," he mumbles.
"Lords," Leofric nods, "it is good to see you both safe and well."
"Leofric, you are home," Odda the Elder says, with relief in his voice.
In part, Leofric thinks. This—stone and wood—although familiar, is not home, but he is here with Uhtred next to him, and that would be enough to make anywhere feel like home.
The son is not so welcoming. "Where in God's name have you been?"
"Hiding, Lord, and killing Danes," Leofric's face is stone, and his voice flat.
"Hopefully not on my land," Young Odda responds.
"We've been sent by the King. We bring orders from the King," Uhtred says.
"What King is that?"
"King Alfred?" Odda the Elder says, wonder in his voice.
"Who else, Lord?"
"Wessex, it seems, is full of kings," Young Odda continues. "There is Guthrum, who is King of East Anglia, who now sits in Winchester. There is Aethelwold here who will tell anyone who cares to listen that he is King. Where will it end?"
"I have Alfred's written order," Uhtred says.
"It means nothing."
"You are to raise the fyrd," Uhtred commands, holding out the parchment with the order.
"It is over for Alfred!" Odda says, his voice dripping with dislike. "Alfred gave up on Wessex. He decided to save himself! No man has been more loyal to Alfred than my father and I! But he has failed us! Danes surround us, and he is hiding. Alfred is King of the Eels... slippery and elusive."
"See it's true," Uhtred says, exchanging a glance with Leofric. "You have sided with the Danes. What has Skorpa promised you?" he asks, approaching Odda with a quiet menace. "Are you to be King, Odda?"
"Leofric, are you still my man?" Odda asks, looking to him, even as Uhtred tries to cut across the words. "I asked you a question, Leofric."
What other answer is there? "I am still your man, Lord," he says, feeling his throat constrict.
Odda walks forward, stopping in front of Leofric. All eyes are on them. "Then you will finish the business you have with this Dane and kill him."
Leofric looks at Uhtred, and sees no fear in his eyes. This is nothing like the trial. He can see this time that Uhtred knows he will not hurt him.
Odda's face is thunder. "You have my order... Kill him."
"Lord, I cannot do that." He hears the quiver in his own voice.
"I stand here as Alfred's messenger," Uhtred says commandingly, unafraid.
"I will not tell you again, Leofric."
"If any man tried to kill me, then that man is a traitor to the King."
"Leofric, you will kill him," Odda commands again. "Alfred is no longer my King!"
"I will not do it, Lord," Leofric says, with quiet anger, and a certain, steady voice. This is his final denial.
None of them notice Alfred creeping further out of the crowd, nor Odda the Elder's increasing agitation.
Just as Leofric thinks that Odda might move to kill Uhtred himself, Lord Odda steps forwards and plunges his knife into his son.
In the aftermath, Leofric catches Uhtred looking at him.
His master is dead, and the family he was sworn to serve are stripped of their status. Leofric no longer belongs to them.
"You defied him," Uhtred says, with something like wonder in his voice.
"I couldn't have obeyed him."
"You did once," Uhtred points out.
"No, I stopped him from killing you himself," Leofric says, "the only way I knew how. I would have sooner killed him and taken the consequences, rather than ever raise a sword at you again."
Uhtred is silent for a moment. "Lucky it didn't come that."
"Quite."
"You don't have to take orders anymore," Uhtred smiles.
Leofric returns the smile. "The north better be worth it," he remarks.
They arrive at Egbert's Stone. There are no men yet to meet them, and so they set up camp.
Uhtred and Iseult spend the evening cuddled together. Iseult does not seem to want to let him go.
Leofric claps Uhtred on the shoulder, unable to do anything more with all the people milling around them, preparing for battle. His hand lingers, touch turning to a clasp, and it is their only concession towards intimacy.
"I might fight for the King, and for England," Leofric says, "but I also fight for you."
Uhtred's eyes say everything his voice cannot.
Leofric wishes he could lean forwards, plunder Uhtred's mouth with his tongue, but now is not the time. Perhaps if they both survive this, there will be a time for them.
Uhtred sees the dull flash of the axe out of the corner of his eye, and turns to see the spurt of blood from Leofric's neck before his friend drops back.
The shock and devastation is clear on his face for a moment, before he has to bury his feelings and continue to push forwards.
Uhtred looks down at the body before him.
Aethelwold wordlessly passes him Leofric's sword.
He is close to tears as he takes Leofric's hand in his, and places the sword into it. He holds them tight against Leofric's chest as he reaches for the other, and pulls it over their still joined hands. He pauses for a moment, trying to pretend that this clasp will not be their last.
"His grave is to be marked like that of an ealdorman." His voice is wrecked. He does not let go of Leofric's hands.
Aethelwold does not even question it.
It is only natural that Uhtred wishes to gift Leofric with the status he had earned, but could not achieve in life. It is the highest honour he can give to a man who deserved so much more than death.