by Sam Taw
Tallack pulled a quizzical face. “So, when you fell from the cliff side and almost died, that was Brea too?”
“She stamped at the loose soil beneath my feet and down I went. She tried to poison me as well, if you recall.” The trembling inside reached my arms until my hand shook violently in fear. I was a wretched bag of bones, but it was only fair that I take my punishment as any other from the tribe. Staring down at my feet, I was ashamed to meet their gaze. Blydh may have softened of late, but in his heart, he takes the mantle of my brother, Cador the Cruel. They spoke quietly in front of me, but as though I was not present.
Blydh still fumed. “We should whip her in front of the tribe.”
“She’s an old woman! That’d kill her.”
“She has to be punished, or the tribe will think us weak.” Blydh growled.
“None of the tribe know about Brea, only us. Aunt Mel will never do anything so foolish as to keep information from us again, would you?” He turned to me, raising his voice.
I shook my head. “No, never. I promise.”
“And we can make her tend the sick and wounded as her penance. Let’s face it, she did try to warn me about Brea’s duplicity after the fall, but I dismissed Aunt Mel as raving from all the poppy resin she’d taken.” Tallack said. I saw in those glistening eyes that he pitied me. He and I had been through so much together. He understood and forgave me.
“She’d heal the injured anyway. It’s what she does. That’s no way to make her suffer.” Blydh’s coldness returned. It made me shudder.
“She’s suffered enough, believe me. Anyway, we need her. My Chiefly decision is to keep this knowledge between us, and stop wasting time on trivial squabbles when we have a battle to prepare for.” Tallack stood up and embraced me.
Blydh stayed sitting on the bunk. “It’s not my decision, and I am just as much Chieftain as you.”
“Please, brother. In her position, I’m not sure I would have done anything different.” Tallack squeezed me so tight, I could scarcely breathe. Nonetheless, I was comforted by his strong arms about me. I freely admit that I shed more than a tear or two.
There was an awkward silence between the twins. It chilled the air about us, until Tallack changed the topic of conversation. He and I alone knew the extent of the Durotriges force. Blydh needed to know what we were up against.
Tallack released me and faced Blydh. “How long will it take for your men to complete the perimeter walls?”
“Now that your idle crew are working alongside mine, it should be finished within a couple of days.”
Prudence would have encouraged me to keep my mouth shut. Unfortunately, I have never had an abundance of that. “It won’t be enough.” I whispered.
Tallack rested his fists on his hips and frowned. “What was that?”
“My apologies, Nephew, I mean not to interfere in your preparations, but I have seen all this before in my father’s day. The walls are, of course essential, but they would not stand up to a prolonged attack with fireballs.” I couldn’t look either of them in the face, their collective power was humbling.
The two Chiefs considered my statement for a moment. A quick glance in Blydh’s direction and I saw his expression of annoyance, but he didn’t tell me to be quiet. As much as I infuriated him, he could not doubt a whole lifetime of experience such as mine.
Tallack encouraged me to speak up. “What do you suggest, Aunt?”
Emboldened by Tallack’s support, I kicked the rushes to one side, exposing the compacted mud beneath us. Taking a chisel from my knife wrap, I scored the path of the river tributary and sketched out the position of where the gates used to be before they were burned in the raid. My suggestion to them, was to move the gates further out, giving the compound a larger space to accommodate more warriors inside.
“But that would take another quarter moon or more of hard labour.” Blydh snarled. “We don’t need so much room. The warriors have their tents, they can double up or more if necessary.”
Tallack interrupted him. “I think what Aunt Mel is saying, is that we need to train up more warriors. We must send out parties to gather up the boys and workers from the homesteads right across our territory.”
Blydh’s face slackened to neutral. I couldn’t tell what was running through his head, but I had to make our vulnerabilities absolutely clear.
“Not just the boys,” I said, glancing between them. “We must train the women too.”
Tallack laughed.
Blydh scoffed. “Now I know you are addled. Have you been smoking stink weed?”
“You have grown up during the peaceful reign of Aebba. He grew fat and complacent because every other clan needed our tin and wanted to trade. He forged new allies in binding ceremonies and with privileged deals for our metal. Your warriors patrolled the borderlands and had a ruthless reputation. That was not the case in your grandfather’s day. When Cador reigned, every man, woman and child in a tribe were given an axe as soon as they were large enough to wield one. These are no longer peaceful times. All must fight, if we are to prevail against the Duros.”
The twins locked stares. They knew I was right, but the thought of arming women as weak and cosseted as their little sister didn’t sit well with either of them. I needed to push the suggestion further.
“Tallack, you remember how we were attacked that night in the woodlands on Cornovii land?”
“I do. It was a blood bath.”
“And yet Idina of the Catuve-Llaunii took most of our enemies down with her archery skill. At the very least, teach the women to make their own weapons and shoot.”
Tallack sat next to his brother on the bunk. Both listened without further interruption, as I mapped out training grounds, covered battlements and a large ditch to surround the wall, filled from our diverted stream. Everything I could recall from my youth, I relayed to my nephews in readiness for the worse.
It surprised me how receptive they were to my ideas, but then they were hardly new. My knowledge was passed down from my ancestors like in any family. Mine just happened to be leaders of a mighty tribe of the South-West. While they talked over my scratches in the mud, I went in search of food. The pheasants at my door were now plucked, gutted and hanging by their feet on one side of the eaves. On the opposite side, split logs and kindling for the fire. Who was supplying my needs like this? I ventured forth in the hope that I could trade for a little bread.
The mud through the central thoroughfare was horrendous. Blydh cared not for what he considered to be inessential compound things, like boardwalks. To him they took too much time and materials to construct and were not needed for battle. How could I make him see that having them was crucial?
Without boards on which to tread, people strayed onto grassier areas to avoid being bogged down. Within a moon’s cycle, the entire compound would be a giant mud pit. All about me I saw chaos and confusion. I began to think that we would never be ready in time to fend off attack.
There were few women in camp from whom I could trade for bread or flour. Those I asked, told me that they were down to their last bag of grain and could not spare any, even for a large quantity of tin. This was not good news. This camp was not just lacking defence, but also food. If we were to endure a potential siege, we’d be eating rats within the first quarter moon.
We were too few to make headway on all that needed to be done, and of those of us who were left, many were young and inexperienced. I took a detour to see how the smithies were getting along. Only one man hammered now, another worked the bellows while the rest stripped wood for handles. There were no more than ten bronze swords and axes ready for use. Even at a distance, I could see that they had few resources to make enough to supply the new recruits. This camp had no direction at all.
By the time I arrived back at my shelter, Tallack was sitting crossed legged on the rushes, jabbing at the mud with one of my knives. I peered over his shoulder, looking at the crosses he’d marked out beyond my moat. “What are they?”
Blydh seemed especially agitated. “There’s no time for all these elaborate plans. All we need is trained men. I’ll ride out with a team of my warriors and gather up whoever we can find. That’s the one thing I agree with so far.”
“No, the defences are crucial. We must protect our people. The Duros have the numbers and speed. All we have in our favour is a defensive position. We need ramparts and battlements as well as the ditch.” Tallack’s voice rose in pitch and volume. Had they been arguing the whole time I was out searching for food?
Frightened of losing their favour, I kept quiet and busied myself with the pheasants. The fire rekindled in no time. While the boys debated their various stand points, I roasted the birds and passed them a jug of goat’s milk. Both refused, expecting me to conjure ale from thin air. There was so much work to be done. I had almost no herbs left, no jars or pots and not a shred of cattle gut for stitches. The whole enterprise was overwhelming.
Their disagreements were taking an unpleasant turn once more. Tallack favoured building my defences, while Blydh stood firm on creating a sizable army to train. I couldn’t see a way to compromise. Turning the roasting pheasants, a half turn on the spit, I took my tin purse and went to find someone who might trade for ale. Taking a longer, drier route, I made for the row boats at the jetty.
Young Treeve welcomed me, commenting on my drab tunic as though it belonged to a Phoenician Prince. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out his motives. He’s an odd little fellow. He offered me a large pike for trade, but with two pheasants cooking nicely, it would start to rot before it could be cured. Anyway, I had no salt with which to preserve the thing. I was beginning to wish I’d stayed at the Bentewyn mines. Having to start all over again from nothing was exhausting.
Eventually, the lad pointed me to a shelter where he said I could trade for a jug of ale.
I approached and called out next to the door flap. “Ho there! I come to trade ale for tin, if you’ve a mind to?”
You could have knocked me down with a feather when Renowden appeared from under the skins. “Fur Benyn. It’s good to see you.”
“And you too, Ren. How come you’re back so soon? I thought you were on Faolan of the Novantae’s ship, sailing around Land’s End.”
“Aye, that I was. They made port at Bentewyn to trade for tin and supplies. I rode on like the wind from there. They shouldn’t be far behind me. Day or two at most.”
“I came to trade. The Chiefs are arguing in my hut. I figured that ale would ease their tempers.”
“Both Chiefs, you say? Tallack and Blydh are there?” He seemed greatly perturbed.
“They are. What of it?”
“I must speak with them urgently. There is much to say.” He ducked back into his shelter and returned with a jug of ale. I offered him tin in exchange but he would not take it from me. We hurried back to my hut through the boggy ground. Twice my pattens were pulled from my feet, slowing our progress to a grinding halt.
Thank Cerridwen that he was there to help me free my shoes and lean on while I put them back on my feet. If only Blydh had worked his men harder over the winter, the camp would be further along, and we’d all be less anxious.
“What has got you all in a state, Ren? I’ve never seen you anxious before.”
“Begging your pardon, Fur Benyn, but it’s best if we wait until we’re with the Chiefs. I’ll explain everything then. Weighed down in kawgh and filth, we scraped what we could from our feet and leggings and entered the hut. Both the chiefs were standing nose to nose in a heated discussion. I’d seen these spats before but none were this fierce. It looked to me that it would end in blows.
Taking the jug from Renowden, I did my best to barge the two warriors apart. “Excuse me, Nephews. I need to reach the cups over there. Good old Ren has brought you ale and some important news.”
The Chiefs stepped back allowing me passage to the back of the hut. Each of them greeted Renowden in our customary way, grabbing one another’s forearms securely and nodding.
“Well met, Ren. You made incredible time. How on earth did you get here so fast? Where are Faolan and his son?” Tallack said, surprised to see his old crewman.
“Rode like the wind from Bentewyn, swapped my horses for tin thrice on the way, to bring you the news. Faolan stayed longer to trade, they’ll pick up the tide when they’ve restocked.”
I served them cups of ale, watching them stepping over the mud map of the compound to sit by the fire.
“Come on then, man. What’s so important that you’ve knackered up horses to get here so quick?”
Renowden took a great gulp of his ale and looked at each of the Chiefs. “We tried to stick within sight of the coast from our northern border to Land’s End, but you know what the currents are like in that stretch of water…”
Tallack nodded. “I do. Can be nigh on impossible to fight the northerly slipstream.”
“Well, we were tacking as best we could against the wind, when night fell. I suggested that we put in to land and start afresh at daybreak, but Faolan wouldn’t hear of it. Insisted we sailed on through. Anyhow, come dawn, I could tell that we’d been blown off course. We were headed for the Iwerdon coast.” He took in more ale and a deep breath. “That was when we saw the Ivernii ships.”
Blydh wrinkled his nose. “So what? Probably fishing or delivering their copper for trade to the mountain people.”
“They weren’t fishing, nor were they low in the water like they carried metal in their hulls.” Ren stared Blydh right in the eye without flinching. “They were practising boarding other vessels at sea and manoeuvring in defensive lines.”
Tallack’s eyes widened to the size of dishes. “You think they are readying for attack?”
“I do, Chief. That’s exactly what I think.”
CHAPTER FOUR
There was stunned silence for a while. The men absorbed Renowden’s news with a surprising degree of calm.
Tallack picked up the stick from the floor and rooted about in the fire ashes. “So, we have a fleet of angry Ivernii headed for our southern coast and a gigantic horde of trained warriors ready to kill us all on land.”
“That about sizes it up, yes.” Blydh said. He finished his ale and handed me the cup. “There’s no time to waste. I’m taking my men to round up as many people to fight as we can find.”
Tallack stood up to block him. “We need your men to build the defences.”
Ren looked to me to break the deadlock.
“Split the tasks. Tallack stays with his crew to build, Blydh take as few as you can manage with to get more folk to train. Men and Women, remember.” For once, neither of them argued. I received a curt nod, before they rallied to their tasks. Ren stayed with me a little longer. When the boys had gone, I poured him more ale.
“How many ships are we talking about here, Ren?”
“More than we’ve got, although they’re nowhere near as large or well built.”
“You think we can take them on without too many losses?”
Ren shook his head. “If what you say about the Duro’s on the border is right, most of the crewmen will be needed on land to fight. We can’t hope to be in two places at once.”
The man had a point. I sat next to him by the fire and plucked a roasted leg of pheasant to give to him. “Is there a solution?”
He took the meat and smiled. It was juicy and tender. I sliced a hunk off the breast for myself.
He swallowed his mouthful. “I was wondering if we can form an alliance with the Novantae. Faolan had more than one ship, and they were all large and sturdy crafts. His men are also fearsome warriors.”
It was a sound idea, but for the fact that his people and their fleet were at the top of the world. When I mentioned that, he reminded me that we had sailed from the west of Skotek to the northern coast of Dumnoni lands in record time. It would be quicker to sail north to fetch his men, than it would
to train up the youngsters from the local homesteads.
“I see what you’re saying, and it would be an excellent idea, but for one fact. We have nothing to offer Faolan in return. Why would he risk his people and his ships to help protect our lands? From his perspective, he could simply wait until the Duros or Ivernii took over our tin mines and trade with them instead.”
Renowden nibbled the last fragments of meat from the bones and licked his lips. “We’ve nothing to lose in asking.”
“Might be better if you mentioned it to Tallack. I think the boys have had enough of their interfering old aunt for one day.”
He squinted down at the map of the compound, twisting his head this way and that. “What are the crosses there?” He pointed with the stick that Tallack had used.
“Those are covered watchtowers.”
“And the line here?”
“The tributary to the Exe.”
He scratched his beard and pulled a face.
“What?” I asked. I knew Renowden to be far wiser than he ever let on. Tallack trusted him above all others of his crew. His mature years made him the ideal navigator on Tallack’s voyages along our trade routes. He knew every bit of our coastline as well as the back of his hand.
“It’s just, if we move the entire camp to the other side of the tributary, it would form an island with the main river on the other side.”
I peered down at my map and then trawled through my memories to where he could mean. There was an entire section of land walled off by the diverging streams. It was criss-crossed with smaller water courses too. For the life of me, I couldn’t think why the compound was not sited there in the first place.
“But they have already begun patching up the walls, not to mention this hut and a couple of others.”
“So? It’s not as though they’ll have to cut down new trees to make the fence, well maybe a few. They can unearth the old trunks that did not succumb to the fire and use them again. I’m guessing these scratches are ditches? Imagine the time saved by not having to dig those.”