by Sam Taw
We had to get as far away from their warriors and the camp as quickly as possible. It would not take them long to summon a hunting party of vicious fighters on swift steeds to track us. With Renowden’s help, Kewri pushed Blydh onto his massive cart horse and climbed up behind him. Holding Blydh upright between his arms, he took hold of the reins and kicked the pony’s flanks. I shared my horse with Renowden, sending the others south to collect their own and follow as quickly as they could manage.
Between mine and Ren’s knowledge of the area, we were able to lose anyone who might have followed, until we were deep within our own territory. Kewri was covered in congealing blood. Blydh’s head lolled on his chest. Every few moments, I asked the giant if my nephew lived.
His reply was brief and the same each time. “He has a strong heart. I can feel it.”
Beyond all our expectations, Blydh’s heart was still beating when we made it back to camp. The horses almost collapsed from the strain, and we were all twitchy with panic, but we got behind those eastern gates as dawn broke on the horizon. I slid down off my pony and fussed about the giant, trying to help him lift my nephew down from the cart horse. Renowden followed me into my hut, bringing my healing kit and knives. None of us had much hope of him surviving.
I touched Ren’s arm. “You’d better fetch his mother and brother.” I whispered. “They’ll want to say their farewells before he heads off to the Summerlands.” I could hardly see from the pooling water in my eyes.
“What about Kerensa?” He asked. He was right. The girl had more than ambition on her mind. I truly believed that she loved him. I nodded and then returned to Blydh as Kewri laid him gently down on my bunk. Turning to my massive new friend, I tried to mouth the words, thank you, but my trembling mouth would not perform.
He gave me a half-smile. “Tell me what you need to fix him. I’ll find a way to get it.”
How could I repair that kind of damage? Kneeling on the rushes, I reached over him and peeled off the blood-stained cloak, leather tunic, and undershirt. Barring a number of small cuts and bruises, his body was clear of major trauma. His head was a whole different matter. I poured some of Tallack’s salt into warm water and stirred until it was fully dissolved. Tipping a little at a time over the top of his head, blood, dirt and fragments of skull rinsed from his hair onto my bedding.
I could see his brain clear as day. Three shards of bone were embedded within its surface.
CHAPTER TEN
The more I rinsed poor Blydh’s scalp, the more of his brain I could see. Putting my ear to his chest, I could hear his heart thumping strongly. Other than a massive dent in his head and being unconscious, he seemed to have kept enough blood inside to keep him alive. His face was not pinched into a frown or wincing from pain. He must have been hovering between life and death. We needed to act fast.
Cryda stumbled into my hut, falling to her knees and wailing in her grief. Tallack was behind her, struck dumb from the tragic sight.
“He lives still.” I muttered. “His heart is beating.”
Tallack slipped around to the opposite side of the bunk, grabbing his brother’s hand and shooting me with an intense glare. “Then you must heal him, Aunt. Do whatever it takes. He cannot die.”
“I’ve never had to deal with this sort of injury before. Usually, a blow this severe is fatal.” I trembled from the pressure. What they were asking of me would surely spell Blydh’s doom, only I would be the cause and not his hubris with the Duros. Cryda and Tallack both fixed their stares on me. They were not giving me a choice.
I turned to my friends. “Ren, would you sharpen my blades, please? Kewri, I need more salted boiled water and as many lit torches as you can find. This hut is too dark for me to work and I fear moving him again into the daylight.” I poured the rest of the water over his scalp and picked out the bits of rock and twigs until I had clear sight of the damage. When Renowden returned with my blades, I soaked them in more salted water and then heated them in the fire.
Tallack stood up and hurried to the door. “Wait.” He commanded. “We must make a sacrifice to the Morrighan, may she allow him to live, and to Airmed, may she speed his recovery.”
I didn’t argue. How could I be sure that I hadn’t brought this tragedy about by angering the gods with my bitterness and hatred? Cryda went with him, wittering about how she should make a separate offering to secure the gods’ favour. As soon as they were both gone, I decided to make a start on what could only be a fool’s errand. It was easier to work without their beady eyes questioning every move I made.
With Kewri’s help, I positioned Blydh so that the top of his head was at the end of my bunk. I sat on a short stool and smoothed his wet hair down. Starting a little further away from the worst of the crush injury, I sliced into his scalp carefully, until I could feel solid bone meet the tip of my knife. Scraping a bit at a time, I was able to remove a flap of skin with his hair attached from a portion the size of my palm. I laid that over his face. Somehow it calmed me when I couldn’t see his ashen features.
Renowden passed me the jug of boiled water. It was warm enough to melt the salt, but not so hot as to shock Blydh. The amount of fractured bone was frightening. Ren sucked in his lips and shook his head. It didn’t fill me with confidence. I took my time lifting each shard from the soft matter, doing all I could to prevent further damage. As the pieces shifted, I asked Ren to trickle a little more liquid across Blydh’s brain until every chunk was removed.
By the time I had finished, Tallack and his mother had returned, to see poor Blydh’s skull wide open and his skin and hair over his face. Cryda almost swooned. Tallack went wild, grappling the air to get at me, but Kewri held him back. Thank goodness he was there, or I might have become the next sacrifice.
“Please, Nephew. This has to be done. He can’t go on with ragged bone stabbing his brain.” I implored, hoping to allay his fears, but then, I had no guarantees that my treatment would work.
Ren placed his hand on Blydh’s chest. “He’s still alive, Chief. That has to be a good sign.” His words had great impact on Tallack, the oldest of his crewmen and clearly someone who earned Tallack’s trust. The Chief stopped fighting against Kewri’s grip, signalling his agreement.
Cryda rushed to her son’s bedside and asked for the intervention of Airmed, Goddess of Healing, over and over again in a form of chant. The blood splashes on her clothes were evidence of the slaughtered animals given in offering. I hoped that it would be enough.
The next part of my procedure was more dangerous than the last. I announced what I needed to do in case they thought me mad and tried to stop me. Blydh’s skull was splintered in such a way as to leave several pointed sections of skull. I intended to smooth off the edges using a small chisel as a file, leaving a gap of a little smaller than the size of a hen’s egg.
It was not as easy as I thought it would be. Even with Renowden holding Blydh’s head still, and using my sharpest chisel, I struggled to chip away at the shards without digging into his brain further. It was after my second slip, that Ren suggested a different tool. Of all the items I had in my knife wrap, the one tool that was missing was a flint edge. Grinning, Renowden ran back to his shelter, and retrieved a stone with a remarkably sharp side.
“It’s sometimes better than a bronze blade for stubborn parts of animal skins. I wouldn’t be without one.” He shrugged.
Unconvinced by his praise for the tool, I dunked it in salted water first, in case it still had flesh on its surface, and then gently scratched at the bone. The rounded end of the flint felt good in my hand, easy to wield and control. As the sun reached its highest limit in the spring sky, I had smoothed as much of the gap as I could. All that remained, was to find something that I could use to replace the missing part of the skull.
Tallack and Cryda had not moved. Their repetitive chanting was distracting at first, until its mellow rhythm fell in time with my taps and scratches. Now I needed their attention.
“Cryda, I know that Blyd
h assured the sun for Delen at her naming ceremony, and that his gift to her should be part of her chain of protection for her entire life, but I ask you now for her sun disc. It is all I can use to cover his soft brain.”
To see the former Ruvane of our tribe crumple, was almost heart-breaking. I was asking her to save the life of her first born, by breaking the most potent part of her Delen’s protection. Without the sun disc, the little one would always be vulnerable to wicked spirits that might have escaped the Underworld during the ceremony.
I could see from her expression that she needed time to think about it, but the longer we waited with Blydh’s head open, the less likely he was to survive. Moving to her side, I rested my hand on her shoulder. “Delen is a strong child. She would be more than capable of fending off unwanted spirits. Just remember who her father was. No one dare confront the child of Aebba the Wild.”
Cryda gaze shifted to the floor. She was not convinced by my assertion. What was she hiding? Was my suspicion over Delen’s true parentage correct? Was she really the daughter of a visitor from the mountain people? This was not the time for explosive information to come out. I had to push her to make the right choice. “Cryda, I need the sun disc. You must fetch it for me now.”
I guided her by the arm to the doorway, and sent Kewri to hurry her along, for Blydh’s brain was starting to dry out. Resting my ear to his chest, I listened to his heart beat. It was much faster than it should be. Was he aware of what I’d been doing to his skull? Was this the last stages of his death?
At that point, despite my former disbelief, I too began chanting, asking for Airmed to keep him alive and for the Morrighan to release her grip on his life. Cryda returned with the gold disc within moments. It was mucky already, the golden sheen dulled with baby dribble. I buffed it up and checked that it was large enough to cover the hole. It was, with a little bit to spare all around.
Ren stopped me from sliding it under the edges of Blydh’s open scalp. “Fur Benyn. It’s a good idea, but one jolt and the metal plate will shift under the skin. His brain would then have no protection at all.”
I hadn’t considered that. His suggestion was to clip the edges of the golden disc and bend them down to form a lip. For this, he volunteered himself, since my hands don’t have the strength that his do. While he shaped the disc and polished its surface, Kewri held Blydh’s head still for me to score a groove in the healthy bone around the hole. The disc slotted into place, with only a couple of adjustments, allowing me to return his scalp back where it belonged. After a lengthy session of stitching, I had done all I could.
Cryda stood up and watched the eldest of the twins for a few moments, expecting him to spring back into action. “Why isn’t he waking up?” She cried. Tallack took his sobbing mother into his arms and shushed her gently.
“He might wake up, he might not. Cryda, this was always going to be a risky procedure. He is in the hands of the gods now.” I chose my words carefully, but she still howled without control.
I heard Tallack whisper into her hair. “I never thought that he’d go through with the raid. I seriously thought he’d see the numbers of warriors and tents and turn back.”
This was a time for them to be alone. I dumped my bloodied knives into a bowl and dowsed them with the last of the salt water. Kewri carried it outside for me. Ren followed us. It was only after I had washed and cleared everything away that I realised the level of my exhaustion. My back ached, my arms and hands were sore and my stomach moaned like the dead. Thankfully, it was a warm and sunny day. I lay on the grass next to my goat pen and stared up at the clouds.
Would the Morrighan take my nephew from me after all he had endured? Only time would tell. The whole compound was in a sombre mood, the news of Blydh’s situation spreading across camp within moments of our return. I closed my eyes for a few moments, wondering what Brea and that treacherous nephew of mine, Paega would be plotting. How long would they wait until they mounted their attack on us? Sitting up, I watched the easy pace of life my tribe had adopted in recent cycles. They’d grown soft. None of the women had trained or fought alongside men in generations.
Heaving myself up off the ground, I called out to the nearest guard in a watchtower to the west. “Ho there! Are the recruits in training out there?”
The guard shook his head. “No Fur Benyn, nor on the northern side.”
“Why’s that?”
“Chief Blydh’s warriors are all giving their offerings and speaking with the gods.” It was a decent enough answer, but not one I wanted to hear. There were no sounds of wood choppers, nor saws, nor anvils. Work across camp had ceased, despite the urgency for us to be fully prepared. I could scarcely keep my eyes open, but I threw one foot in front of the other and returned to my hut to warn Tallack. He sent me away with a barrage of harsh words. Tears tumbled down his cheeks.
What could I do? I needed to watch over my patient, but no one was left to direct the battle preparations. There was only one option available; pretend that I was delivering Tallack’s orders. I went to Ren and explained the difficulty. As ever, he was more than prepared to help, despite his need for rest and stitches to close his nicks and scrapes. I gathered the men together, both the Head Hunter Clan and the Sea Warriors, and issued orders. Some were to ride out to scout for Duro attack, others were to gather defence materials and food, while the rest rushed to complete the final ramparts and fletch as many arrows as possible.
I then did the same for the women. Splitting them into groups, I had a rota of women in the watch towers, with the sharpest shooters training the youngsters at the targets. The older folk butchered and cured meats and fish, while the children gathered rocks to hurl in baskets. It was all I could do to keep everyone busy. Ren, I tasked with the most important job of all; to secure the fresh water spring and fence it off from animals. If it came to a siege, it would be the only water that could not be fouled.
Before he set to ordering a group of men to create a stone wall around the spring head, he pulled out a handful of bronze fragments from his pocket. I knew where they had come from. The pieces were forged and shaped on one side and jagged on others.
“Give these to Chief Tallack and let him know that Blydh fought valiantly. If the worst comes to the worst, he will have his place next to his father in the Summerlands.” Renowden tipped the bits into my cupped palms. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Aebba was not yet in such a lofty place with the gods.
When I entered my hut, I saw that there was no change in Blydh’s condition. Neither Tallack nor Cryda had attempted to move him into a more comfortable position. My nephew sat on a stool near to his brother’s head. His eyes were raw and dry, his gaze trained on Blydh’s face. Cryda was further away. Her tears were continuous and fresh. I was at a loss as to who I should comfort first.
Stalling for time, I banked the fire up with logs and poured ale for them both. Cryda didn’t want any. Tallack took the cup from my hands without registering the offering.
Eventually, he seemed to shake himself from his daze. “The last words we spoke together were not kind. We have done nothing but bicker and argue since you and I returned from Skotek.”
He was right, but it helped nothing to point out their stupidity. Twins were supposed to be close. Some say that they have the ability to read each other’s thoughts. It was obviously not the case for Tallack. He misjudged his brother’s tenacity and fondness for raids. As I moved to pat his shoulder, the metal in my pocket clinked together. Tallack frowned, looking down at my tunic. There was no way to avoid the conversation now.
Taking out the bronze pieces, I laid them out across my hands for him to see. “It’s what was left of Blydh’s axe.” I said meekly.
Tallack picked them up and examined the sharp remains. “What did it hit to cause this much damage?”
“A long sword. The one we saw Paega with on the moors at the Duros’ first camp.”
“You said it had been yours…” His look turned severe, as though he re
gretted forgiving me for keeping secrets over Brea. Here was yet another half-truth I’d not revealed. I was rapidly losing his trust. That I could see in his eyes.
I confessed all to him; how I’d found the silvery coloured sword in the lakes near to Stonehenge, and how I had planned on presenting it to the new Chieftain after the trials. He understood that I couldn’t favour one twin over the other, but he was cross that I’d asked my slave to hide it in the mining camp rather than show it to him.
He seethed quietly for a time, while I bathed the oozing humours from Blydh’s head and checked that his heart still pounded in his chest. Tallack turned the axe pieces over in his hands. “Aunt Mel, do you think that Paega has somehow enchanted the blade? He is the leader of the Priest Sect now; he surely has the ear of Cernonnus like his grandfather before him.”
“Are you suggesting that the two-faced little toad has cursed us? You think he wields the mighty force of Cernonnus himself?” It was a horrifying notion, especially in light of my recent hateful mutterings about the gods. I had to dispel that fear from our Metern or we would never prevail against the Duros.
“How could any god favour Paega over Blydh?” I forced myself to smile, making it into a joke. Tallack did not laugh with me. Resting the back of my hand against Blydh’s forehead, I checked to see that he was not too hot with fever. So far so good.
Before I could sit down and rest, the door skins were drawn back and Faolan stepped inside. He strode over to Tallack and offered his arm in greeting. Tallack stood up and grasped the big man’s forearm. I could see his expression had altered. It was not like the Novantae Chief to poke his nose into family matters.
“I’ve come to see how the lad is doing, what with him supposed to become my kin when Sorcha arrives.” He leaned over the bunk and peered down at my sleeping nephew. “I’ve seen a lad survive a blow to the head like this before. He was plain off his napper though, could hardly walk and kept shitting his bed.”