Pagan Revenge

by Sam Taw

  “Have you a bed among the other recruits?” I asked him as we walked across the grass to my hut.

  “No. We all just squeeze onto a pile of straw near to the cattle enclosure. It has a roof, so it’s not all bad.”

  This huge lad had asked for one thing above all else when he saved my life and it had not been granted to him. Instead of a comfy warm bed, he’d been given the task of protecting me. We waddled through the filth, lighting our way with a torch taken from Blydh’s guards. When we reached my door, he returned to his stool outside.

  “I shall regret this, I’m sure, but come inside, Kewri. It’s already cold enough to freeze parts of the stream.” That cheery smile spread across his smooth face. “Bring some logs with you too. We’ll bank up the fire and have a little ale while I make up a bed for you.”

  I’d never seen him move so fast. Before I could roll out my best furs on the bunk built for the sick and wounded, he had the flames crackling away and filling the whole hut with warmth. That night, I slept so soundly, I almost forgot my grief. Having another beating heart under the same roof gives such comfort, and with Kewri’s size and strength, protection too.

  When I awoke, the porridge was simmering, the goats were milked and fed and Kewri had gathered a great stack of willow withies to make more hurdles.

  “What shall we be doing today, Fur Benyn?” He asked, tying a cord about the thin branches and leaning them against the goat fence.

  “I need to trade for some more pots and jars first, then we’ll go out into the wood to see if we are blessed with new shoots and leaves yet.” It mattered little if we came back empty handed. I just wanted a reason to be away from camp until Cryda and her boys had calmed down. I found that Kewri was pleasant company. He didn’t prattle on, like so many of the young recruits about camp. He let me attend to my business in silence, and only interrupted to ask if he could help me with difficulties reaching or lifting whatever I needed.

  We ate a small amount of cheese and day-old bread, collected as much moss as we could shove into a bag, and sliced off a reasonable quantity of birch bark to render for arrow gum. Kewri led my pony, laden with bulky bags through the undergrowth, heading south for the island. I let him get ahead and darted back into the undergrowth for a handful of bramble leaves.

  When I looked up from my labours, I saw a brilliant white stag. This is the second of such sightings, although the buck I saw on Catuve-Llauni lands was defending his herd. This white hart was alone, and unafraid. We regarded one another for a few moments, him with curiosity, me with awe. He was almost as large as my pony, with sizable antlers not yet shed for spring. Folks often say that seeing a white deer marks a great change in fortune, whether for the better or worse. Was this a warning? I had renounced the gods brazenly and publicly. Was this Cernonnus come to give me a stark reminder of his existence?

  I recalled the way Tallack had laughed at me when I spoke about the last stag to cross my path. Then and there, I decided to keep my sighting to myself. Not even Kewri would know about my brush with the God of the Wild Forest and of Death. Perhaps I had been too hasty in casting my beliefs aside.

  On our return to camp, Renowden was just knotting the final rope in his lifting bridge. It was a marvellous invention, allowing us to cross the deepest stretches of the River Exe into the north end of the island.

  As I suspected, the community was in a frenzy of preparations for the babes naming rituals. Cryda always did love to be the centre of attention. She paraded the child up and down the compound, hurling her orders and requests and invitations at anyone in her path. For all her nonsense, you’d never believe that we were supposed to be training the warriors and making battle preparations.

  I dawdled until she was too far away to bother me and then hurried to my hut. Kewri made short work of the plants and bark we’d collected, and then set about weaving new hurdles to extend the porch outside. From the number of stakes in the ground, he was planning on an entirely new hut.

  Yet another skinned and gutted rabbit hung from the eaves outside my door. As grateful as I was to have such an abundance of food set at my feet, I grew uneasy as to where they came from. No one had come forward to claim gratitude, nor were any hints dropped pointing to the culprit. I lay awake that night, pondering on this miraculous stream of food, wondering if the gods were testing me. Shutting out my fears, I tried to sleep but this growing unease had me shifting restlessly until dawn.

  When most of the tribes were still under their bed furs, I heard the lonely scout gallop into the compound. Wrapping my cloak about me, I sped across the frozen turf to the Long Hut to hear the news. Blydh’s warriors on the night watch woke him and Tallack, directing them to the weary scout with a bloody graze to his shoulder. Cryda must have been awake with the babe, for she arrived too with the little one bouncing on her arm.

  “Well man, what news?” Blydh barked at him.

  The poor warrior gulped at water and then ale, puffing between swallows from the exertion. “The Duros have moved camp. They are but half a day’s walk to the east at the River Sid border.”

  It should not have come as a surprise to us, but it did. We had grown used to their presence on the moors north of us while they trained and prepared. It was inevitable that they would strike from a closer position. What was clear, was they were ready for attack, and we were not. Tallack and Blydh sat on the edge of the top table considering our next move.

  Tallack spoke first. “We must double the watch and gather more food for siege tactics. Renowden completed the second lifting bridge last night, so he can concentrate on getting the ships ready. Dathi of the Ivernii will be lurking out there with his men just off the coast, you can be sure of that. We’ll have to sail out and meet those Iwerdon scum with the few vessels we’ve got.” He stood up and wiped his brow with the heel of his hand. “Where the kyjya is Faolan’s son with those extra ships?”

  Blydh said nothing. He stared at the floor for a while as his brother paced about the Long Hut trying to sound as though he was in control. Tallack walked closer to me and asked if I could perform the naming ceremony of his sister sooner. He wanted to direct all efforts into making spiked ramparts and collecting rocks to rain down on the Duros heads.

  Blydh had finished his preponderances. “We won’t need rocks, or ships or ramparts.”

  Tallack spun about to confront him. “Are you out of your kyjyan mind? We’ll need much more than that to defeat them.”

  I felt a shiver ripple down my back. This was the beginning of the end, I thought. This is where everything falls apart. The bonds of siblings sharing a womb can only stretch for so long. I closed my eyes, almost expecting to hear the ties of brotherhood snap.

  “No, we won’t. I’m going to sneak into their camp and slice Brea and her new Chieftain’s throats. Let’s see them attack with no one left to lead them.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Tallack glared at his brother with a sneer of incredulity. “You really have lost your mind. That is a suicide mission and you know it. They’ll have perimeter guards in their hundreds, not to mention the boundary defences. There is absolutely no chance of you accessing the Chief’s tent, let alone cutting his throat.”

  “Father managed it on one of his raids. I am just as good a warrior as he was and I have more weapons.” Blydh was always confident in his abilities, but this was beyond folly. The Durotriges camp was enormous and well organised. There were no gaps in their defences to exploit. I waited at the far end of the group for common sense to prevail.

  Sneaking a peek at Cryda, I hoped she would take the hint and talk him around. She didn’t. Her exhausted, glazed expression told me that she was barely thinking straight, let alone of the dangers her first born faced. I had to rely on Tallack to make him see the stupidity in such an action.

  “Father had experienced men who’d seen a great deal of battle. They knew all the tricks of infiltrating enemy camps.” Tallack said.

  “You’re suggesting my men are not worthy warr
iors. I’m sure they will be keen to hear what their Chief thinks of them. Almost all have raided with me for at least two summers, some many more, and all have taken their fair share of heads.” Blydh squared up to his brother. “I can end this all in one night, then we will take their region and horses for ourselves. The Dumnonii will become the largest and most powerful tribe in the land.”

  Lofty aspirations indeed, for one so young. He assumed that the warriors who once followed and loved his half-sister Wenna, would forgive him for having her killed. Even if Blydh could breach their defences and kill their leader, none of the Duros were likely to fall into line behind him. I had already worn out their tolerance for my advice. If I was seen to favour Tallack’s word over Blydh’s, it might make the situation between them far worse.

  It was when Tallack laughed at Blydh’s claims, that the atmosphere took a darker turn. The disagreements from the past three quarters of a moon, spilled over into hatred. Blydh lashed out first, connecting his fist via a jab to Tallack’s face. Bloodied and in shock, Tallack retaliated with a head butt. Now both their fine noses were broken. Undeterred, Blydh grabbed his sibling and forced his head down beneath his arm, driving his spare fist into Tallack’s ear.

  This was no honourable fight. This was the result of years of childhood resentment, spilling out in an unbridled squabble. Tallack was stuck, his neck clamped at Blydh’s hip. There were only two choices left to him, a punch to the soft entrails near the back, or the even softer parts between his brother’s legs. With no further consideration given, Tallack forced his arm skyward, driving his fist into Blydh’s balls. The scream made me shudder. Howling in pain, Blydh let go of Tallack. That was when Cryda came to her senses and stepped in to stop them.

  Grabbing both by the ear, she separated her children, putting her own body between them. “Stop this madness!” She yelled. “It’s bad enough that we have an enemy horde on our doorstep, without you two bickering as well. You will not ruin your sister’s name day.” Without letting go of her wriggling sons, she swung them around to face me. “Meliora. The naming will take place before the sun is down today. Make sure everything is ready.” Finally, she released the Meterns of our tribe. “You two will behave yourself. You’ll be there as her chosen guardians and play your part.”

  Cryda was always one for spectacular scenes, but she took a massive risk in belittling the Chiefs in their own Long Hut, mother or not. It was fortunate that only one warrior was present to witness the humiliation, and he knew not to risk revealing what he’d seen to any other.

  Something told me that we hadn’t heard the last of Blydh’s crazy idea, but there was such a lot to do, we all hoped that he would take the time to reconsider. Cryda hurried away, content that she had successfully diffused the situation, while I returned to my hut for a bite of porridge before the hard work commenced.

  While Cryda spent her time washing and dressing her babe and collecting what few flowers could be found in the surrounding meadows, I had Kewri move and stack the tables and benches from the centre of the Long Hut so that I could draw out the circle with salt. This was one of the few rituals of our tribe that did not require a sacrifice. Well, other than animals for food.

  A naming rite was always the domain of the eldest woman of the tribe, who took great pains to remind the young folk that life was precious and worth celebrating. With all the ways that our children could be taken from us, disease, hunger, battle, raiding parties, accident and others besides, having a family member grow up to become a valued member of each clan was a remarkable feat. I couldn’t let Cryda down, especially since I had stayed silent for so long over her husband’s killer.

  After we had cleared away the rushes from the floor, I was ready to mark out the four winds. With a length of twine and two sticks, I dug one end into the ground at the mid-point of the Long Hut, unwound the string to the edge of the wall and scored a circle with the second stick attached.

  When I was content with the size of the ring, I repeated my movements, this time pouring crushed salt from a jug into the groove. I used up my entire stock, plus some of Tallack’s salt too, but it was necessary to ensure that no bad spirits could find their way into the babe while the gateway was open to the Underworld.

  Since there was so little time to finish my preparations, I sent the two slaves Tallack had tried to give me on errands to fetch all I needed. They returned with ivy leaves for the Eastern Winds and milk and bread for the West. These were placed just within the circle along its edge. With the slave cooks doing their best to create a feast from the leftover meat of the last gathering, there were just two more items to obtain.

  Leaving the most awkward until last, I trundled along to Tallack’s shelter and called out at his door. As I suspected, he wasn’t alone. The bothersome boy, Treeve poked his head out, demanding to know what I wanted with my nephew.

  I clipped him around the ear. “None of your business. Now get out of my way.” He grumbled at me as I pushed past him, covering up his manly parts with his hands. “You think I’ve not seen a man’s pintel before?” I laughed. “Mind you, none so dinky as that one. Shift yourself, child.”

  Tallack’s mood had not improved. His jaw muscles flexed with his clenching teeth. “What can I do for you, Aunt?” His manner suggested that he wanted to be rid of me as soon as possible. That was to my benefit in some respects, although I was surprised that he wasted so much time rolling in his furs with Treeve when the Duro’s were so close to their invasion.

  “Your sister’s ritual. Can you assure the protection of the moon?” The ceremony was known to all in the tribe. He knew what was required of him. He also knew that I had reserved the most precious request for his brother. I felt that I had to explain my reasoning, to prevent any perceived favour on my part. “If you’d prefer to handle the protection of the sun…? Only I thought if I asked that of Blydh, he might see that he is too important to his sister’s upbringing to risk a raid into the Duro camp.”

  Tallack said nothing. He just offered me a fixed stare, succeeding in making me uncomfortable.

  “Look, it’s up to you which part you want to play in her life” I shrugged, “only you must decide now since the time is fast approaching.”

  That seemed to do the trick. “Fine, Aunt. I will assure the moon.” He rose from his furs, unashamed of his nakedness and pulled on his leggings. His partner started to whine. “Family comes first.” Tallack snapped, shooting Treeve with a venomous scowl. “Always.”

  Tallack may not have liked my idea, but he was man enough to see my point. I left him to organise his part in the ceremony while I tracked down my angry nephew. Blydh was not in his shelter, nor was he on the training ground beyond the walls. I tried the archery targets and asked the recruits, but none claimed to have seen him.

  When I finally caught up with Blydh, he was just leaving Renowden’s tent near to the Sea Warrior’s shelters at the east gate. His mannerisms were twitchy and his eyes darted from Renowden’s door skins, to the gate and back to me.

  “Ho there, Blydh. I need a word about your sister’s ritual.”

  “Can it wait, Aunt, I have somewhere I need to be?” He tightened his belt as though some additional weight in his scabbard pulled down his leggings.

  “No, it can’t. The light already grows dim and your mother said it must be conducted at dusk.”

  He took a huge breath and sighed, throwing a hip to one side.

  I took that to mean I needed to be quick in my request. “I have asked your brother to assure the moon’s protection, will you assure the sun?”

  He stopped his petulance and frowned. “You give the honour to me over Tallack?”

  I watched him weaken in his resolve. It was having the effect I wanted; a reminder of his importance to the tribe and particularly for someone as vulnerable as his little sister.

  “I’ll do as you ask, Aunt Mel. She is family after all.” Those words were music to me. He had no idea that he was of the same mind as his brother. With ever
ything set in motion, I went to the stream to wash and took a pail of water to heat on the Long Hut fire.

  When the sun began to set, tribal elders, selected warriors, and my family came in and crammed around the edges of the circle to await Cryda’s arrival. Everyone except Blydh looked smart, wearing their best clothing and shoes for the occasion. I should have known the lad was up to something then.

  A few stomachs growled their impatience as the smells of the roasting meats wafted in from the pits outside. With all the torches lit and the sun fading fast, Cryda and her twin boys stood in the doorway.

  I welcomed them inside and directed them to their places within the salt circle. Taking the babe into my arms, I walked to the bowl of warm water laid on a table in the centre. Cryda had wrapped her in a soft length of woollen fabric, dyed blue like her eyes. The elders chuckled as the child grumbled and fussed at being exposed for a warm wash, but quietened again when I dressed her in a pretty tunic and laid her down on a crib lined with sheepskin.

  Kewri stood at the northern point, ripping a loaf into pieces and handing the chunks to the elders as he paced around the circle. A bowl of warm milk was passed from hand to hand, each person dipping their bread and swallowing it down.

  Derwa stepped forwards, her husband behind her. She stood for the North Winds, sheltering her half-sister from the cold and assuring her of food and nourishment. Cryda stepped up to the East, carrying the long tendrils of ivy to wrap in a braid about the crib.

  The Eastern Winds bring foul beasts and unpredictable weather. Ivy is the most potent protection the earth can offer against such evil. Tallack moved to the west. He held in his hand, a tiny bangle of silver. He leaned over the crib, and laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. The last position was for Blydh. He produced a golden sun disc, its surface patterned with delicate markings in the shape of the four winds. This he held in front of him, for all to see. We were ready to begin.