But It's Clean
A/N: Fourth chapter which means getting into the thick of things since this was originally supposed to be about six or seven chapters.
The sun had barely risen by the time they reached Dublin and Sandy was sick of being on this boat. Sick of looking over and watching Einar and Vathlauss speak quietly amongst each other.
"Randy," Shadow said, looking down at her. "Stick close to me during this march, the English aren't too fond of us. I don't want to lose sight of you," he continued, his Lycanroc cloak fluttering for a moment in the wind.
Sandy nodded, glancing over at the other boat. She touched her sword, grabbing onto Shadow's arm as the boat docked and her footing wavered. She frowned, thinking back on the first words her brother said to her while he was dying.
Run. She hadn't. For their entire life, it was her fighting off people that could hurt them. Their parents were rarely around due to tending to the fields, so they had to fight off bandits, bullies. Fighting for her brother was a different feeling. A flame that was snuffed out from years of relative peace reignited.
Her chest burned as she let go of Shadow's arm to grip the handle of her sword.
"Not yet," Shadow said low enough for only her to hear. "Wait until we get to a village."
Sandy took in a deep breath, nodding as she let it out. She had to wait, it'd be suspicious if someone died this early. She stepped off the boat, watching Thorhall heft a box of treasure on his shoulders, dumping it in the horse-drawn cart.
Most of the crew was quiet as they marched a few others talking about what they'd do when they'd reach the first village. Sandy walked just behind Shadow, his form shielding her view of the front. Someone named Mihal was sent ahead for scouting and Sandy watched as smoke filtered into the air.
She didn't want to think about how many people they had killed or were going to kill. She just needed a chance to strike.
Sandy dug her foot into the ground, letting out a primal scream as she rushed Einar from behind, her blade slicing through leather and flesh as it sunk between his ribs. She grunted, taking the blade out and plunging it into Einar's chest over and over, each wound punctuated by a yell. She grit her teeth, blood covering her coat and sword as tears streaked down her face. She stumbled to her feet, hands shaking as she gripped the sword.
She didn't look away from Einar's body as Shadow put a hand on hers, his other on her shoulder.
"Let's go. You got one more, don't you?"