"And find Finan!"
Uhtred did not know how impossible those three little words would become. And why should he, the Irishman never strayed far. Finan was a constant, a friend, a brother. There was never any question he wouldn't be there.
Overtaking Whitgar, the fire, the gods' merciful rain, the realization that Bebbanburg was his at long last, a trade of hostages and negotiations with Constantine, he admittedly lost himself and his thoughts for a while. The celebration surrounding him was deafening, all encompassing. Edward had made his way into the fortress and the crowd was growing thick. Uhtred began down the steps of his hall, still in disbelief that it was his, to greet the king.
That was when he saw Sihtric. Despite the overwhelming amount of people gathered in the square, being bonded as they were came with perks, like being able to spot each other across the field of battle, or through throngs of people celebrating the win of one. Uhtred smiled broadly at his friend, excited to share in this victory with his men. They had fought for this for so long and they deserved Bebbanburg as much as him. But his smile fell when he saw the young man's grave face. And that was when he noticed Sihtric was only flanked by Cynlaef. A certain Irishman noticeably missing from the group. Sihtric's barely perceptible shake of his head told him all he needed to know. The pure unadulterated joy he had been feeling just moments ago vanished. In its place, fear. Sihtric's ashen, panicked face brought him crashing back to reality.
Edward was ten paces from him when he ignored the king's advances and flew down the steps toward Sihtric. He barely registered Edward's confusion and shock at Uhtred's plain indifference towards him. "Move. Out of my way." Uhtred pushed and shoved his way through the crowd to get to his man. After knocking down a few people and getting one or two drinks spilled on him, he finally made it to Sihtric. "Finan, where is he?" It was the question he didn't want to ask, didn't want answered. And all too easily he was reminded how just a few weeks ago he had been asking Finan the same question, in the same tone, about their brother Osferth. And Sihtric's face was much the same as Finan's had been, disbelief, grief and angst all jumbled together.
"I… I… I don't know Lord. I couldn't find him. I called and he didn't answer. He's not among the injured." Sihtric was beside himself. He had walked the battlefield casually at first. Exhausted and spent from the previous few days and in truth just waiting for Finan to find him instead of truly looking for him. He was anticipating their little ritual. Finan would come up from behind, Sihtric startling slightly at the sudden hands on his shoulders but quickly being reassured through a little squeeze as Finan swung around to walk backwards in front of him giving his broad, contagious smile and practically vibrating from the impossible amount of energy he always seemed to have. But that had not happened. After twenty minutes Sihtric began to feel a sense of dread rising. He began to look around, walked to where the injured were being tended. And the dread continued to grow. Admittedly he had not looked too closely at the fallen. He couldn't do it. He didn't want to know. After losing Osferth, Sihtric just couldn't handle a second brother gone so soon.
How could he have been so foolish? He ran from the field of battle to pursue his own ambitions. He allowed himself to let down his guard when it was finished. To breathe before accounting for all of his people. Uhtred was overwhelmed. He ran his hands over his head and tried to think about where to begin. "It's ok, it's ok Sihtric, we will find him." He clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder and gripped the back of the younger man's head with his other, bringing their foreheads together. "We will find him. It's going to be ok." Uhtred wasn't sure who he was saying those words to and if Sihtric or himself believed them.
They had searched the courtyard, the alehouse, the quiet corners that Finan sometimes crouched in after a battle to sort through his thoughts. And when those searches were fruitless, they gathered men, brought in the husbands and sons that lay on the battlefield. Uhtred examining each one himself. But to no avail, Finan wasn't among the living nor the dead.
"Could he have perhaps gone over the cliff?" Aldhelm hated suggesting it. Was almost a little scared too, not wanting to garner a guess at Uhtred's reaction if his second could not be found. He knew how much Uhtred and his warriors cared for one another. His inspired loyalty and their devotion to him was what every commander hoped for, dreamed of.
Uhtred looked incredulous at the lord. He didn't want to think about it. The tide had come in and if Finan had gone over there was no way to know. "I don't think he would have. The fight had moved away by the time we joined. I saw him far from the cliffs, it was over."
But despite his sureness, Uhtred found himself standing at the edge of the cliff that night. The moon was full and lit the jagged rocks below well. The tide had come in and gone back out. There was no one left. The blood and gore of the day had been swept away. The men that had fallen were gone and their loved ones could only hope they would wash up on shore in the next day or two. Finan falling over the cliff, of course it was a possibility, in battle anything was. And it was the only explanation left after all. He let go a breath he hadn't known he was holding in and with it came some quiet tears. He whispered into the wind.
"Finan."