Pagan Revenge

by Sam Taw

  I glowered at his tactless comments, standing between him and Tallack should things take a nasty turn.

  “Still, Blydh might be alright.” The Skotek oaf beamed. “But if he wakes up barking like a dog, I shall expect Tallack to wed my girl in his place, or my men and my ships are out of here.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A vein in Tallack’s temple began to throb. It was tempting to let my nephew beat the Novantae Chief with raining fists, but I feared that Tallack would not come out of the fight unscathed. Cryda stopped sobbing long enough to hear the selfish ranting of the old man. She picked up my ale cup and threw it at his head, screaming at the top of her voice to get out. Faolan retreated, snorting his disgust at their treatment of him.

  Tallack’s teeth clenched together. I could see his anger strengthening. He was preparing to go after him. It took all my strength to push Tallack back, leaning my full weight against his chest.

  “Just stop and think for a moment. He is a blowhard and a thoughtless kyjyan, but we can’t afford to lose his support, or his ships. Let him cool off for a bit, and then call a meeting of the elders in the Long Hut. They will back whatever decision you make.” It took several more attempts to beg him not to antagonise the old rogue any further.

  Cryda didn’t help matters either. She encouraged Tallack to stick his knife through Faolan’s gizzard, and take all his ships as soon as they arrive at the estuary. I hardly needed her to put ideas like that in his head, especially ones that spoke to that sailor’s heart of his. Any chance to extend his fleet made him flush with excitement.

  Blocking the doorway with my body, I struggled to hold him inside. That was when I heard the first groan coming from the bunk. Tallack had not noticed, he still grappled with my fingers trying to prise me from his path.

  There it was again, another groan. Blydh was starting to wake. I shoved Tallack away and hurried to the bed, shortly followed by Cryda.

  “Can you hear us, Blydh?” I spoke as softly as I could manage. Blydh simply moaned again, pulled an agonised face and returned to his former inert self.

  “That’s good, isn’t it, Meliora?” Cryda whimpered. I shrugged. This was the first of this kind of injury where the patient lived long enough for me to attempt treatment. I inwardly thanked all the gods that he’d made it this far. Airmed the Blessed Goddess of Healing must have guided my hands. This was hopeful indeed. As much as I desperately needed to sleep, I sat by his side and waited for another moan, a word, anything that would indicate that he was still with us. If Faolan’s rude proclamations were anything to go by, Blydh may survive, but be little more than an animal.

  Tallack was torn. I could see that he wanted to stay with his brother, but he also wanted to find Faolan and clear the air. At least my short delay tactics had given him time to think things through. “I’m going to find Kerensa. She ought to be here, Mother. Don’t you agree?”

  Cryda did not answer. She did not care for Kerensa, considering her too lowly a match for her first born and Metern of the Dumnonii. She was just the daughter of Alchemy Clan leader, Kenver. Cryda expected him to wed the kin of a large tribe, one that could extend our number of allies, trade partners and raise our status within the midsummer gatherings.

  Poor Kerensa had attempted to visit him as soon as we got back from the River Sid. Tallack had shooed her away, claiming that she had no right to be there. He’d had most of the day to ponder over the sacrifices his brother had made for the tribe. Perhaps it was enough to realise that Blydh deserved love and happiness as much as the next man. Perhaps they are growing into their roles as Meterns after all.

  I watched him slink out of my hut. His temper had all but disappeared with Blydh’s moaning. It did not take long for Kerensa to push through the door skins and sink to the floor in floods of tears. She had not seen the extent of his injury. Now his head was bound with bloodied wraps, she could see how grave the situation was. While Blydh had his mother and lover to care for him, I left the hut to check that Tallack had not stirred further trouble with the Chief of the Novantae.

  Every bone in my body felt twice its weight as I trudged back across the mud and filth to the Long Hut. Tallack was sitting in his bear carved seat, settling the clamour of voices all about him. I noticed that someone had moved the Ruvane chair back between that of the Chieftain’s.

  The tribal elders had already gathered, awaiting news of Blydh’s recovery. When they finally simmered down enough to hear the Chief, Treeve attempted to sneak into the seat at his side. Tallack snapped his head around and gave him the most vicious glare. There had been enough argument over the Ruvane chair without stoking the fires further. Treeve backed away. I thought he would have the decency to leave the hut entirely, since he is not even a high warrior, let alone an elder, but he stayed and sulked near to the door.

  It took a little while for Tallack to explain all that had happened, from Delen’s ceremony, to the failed raid and how I had picked out the skull bits from their Chieftain’s brain. He went on to announce Faolan’s intentions to go back on his word. The elders were outraged, yelling their disapproval and sucking their teeth with disdain. I knew how they would respond. These are not men of action, but of simpering words. They have the ability to sound important without actually having to put themselves in harm’s way.

  The majority of brute force was undertaken by our young warriors, many of whom never lived long enough to become respected elders. These men also know how to tame an angry Metern, bent on revenge. They handled Aebba the Wild and his mood swings for many cycles. I hid at the back of the hut, and narrowed my eyes at Treeve. If I could not participate in their discussions, I could at the very least hear what was being decided.

  “Chief Tallack, I understand your reluctance to trust the Skotek Chief. He has, as you said, reneged on the formal arrangement that Blydh and he agreed upon, but we do need his ships and the support of his warriors.” It was one of the elders who rarely spoke at these gatherings. As a result, his opinions were worthy of consideration. He had hit upon a crucial point that Cryda had missed. She suggested in my hut, that Tallack should over throw the Novantae the moment they arrived and take their ships. As attractive as that sounded, we did not have enough to fight the Novantae Sea Warriors, let alone man their ships as well as our own. We needed more people to fight the Durotriges and the Ivernii. In short, keeping them as allies was essential if we were to hold our ground.

  Two other elders said virtually the same thing, couched in different words. These were the elders who liked to sound clever, but hadn’t spoken an original thought for most of their lives. They were also the first to take credit when another’s suggestion worked out for the best. Tallack listened to all the elders in turn. I could see that he found the whole process exceedingly tedious.

  I glanced about the room, looking out for Treeve the trouble maker. He was not at the back of the hut. I scanned the rest of the crowded room, but could not see him anywhere. Just as I was about to step outside into the late sunshine, he reappeared with Kerensa in the doorway.

  “See, they are backing the Novantae. Faolan will be forced to marry Blydh. You will never be the next Ruvane. You may as well give it up now.” The spiteful little sailor smirked. Kerensa shook her head, craning to hear what Tallack was saying to the old men.

  The Chief stood up from his tall chair and raised his hands to silence the elders. “Please, let’s keep this civilised and sensible.” He pointed towards the first man to speak up. “What you say is true. We need allies more than we need enemies right now, regardless of how attractive their ships would be next to my Phoenician vessel.”

  He waited for the mild titters to subside. “And as much as I hate to admit it, Faolan has us at a disadvantage. We can’t afford to offend him. In bargaining with Blydh, he was assuring his daughter the place of Ruvane in our tribe, with successive generations maintaining an alliance with the Novantae and all the trade routes for our tin in Skotek.” He took a deep breath, as though he was wrestling
with his own mind. “Therefore, whether my brother recovers or not, Faolan’s daughter will bind with one of us. If Blydh recovers fully and is back to his old self, then Sorcha will wed him. If…” Tallack swallowed back his emotions. “If Blydh is only half-well, then I will bind with her. Either way, she will become Ruvane.”

  I kept my sights on Treeve. At this announcement, he paled, then screwed up his nose into a scowl. He muttered just loud enough for Kerensa to hear, but I caught it too. “Not if she’s dead, she won’t.” He left the Long Hut before I could catch hold of him. I had to warn Tallack of his lover’s duplicity, but it was news he was not likely to believe. Perhaps it was all bravado. These young lads and their bold notions rarely get beyond bluster. Although that’s what Tallack thought when Blydh announced his plan to raid the Duro camp.

  Pushing between the elders, I launched myself through the doorway, but Treeve was gone. Kerensa shrugged when I asked her if he’d mentioned where he was heading, folded her arms across her chest, and skipped back towards my hut.

  My mind was foggy, my body so tired I could barely stand and I was half-starved with hunger. I spun around, looking across the island for inspiration. All I knew was that Blydh had to recover, and Tallack needed to rein Treeve in before he could ruin our carefully crafted alliance with Faolan.

  Just as I resigned myself to rest before making any further decisions, a scout rode into camp. He was one sent a few days before to mind the northern routes to and from the River Sid. He skidded to a halt and dismounted.

  “Fur Benyn. I’ve just heard from another scout sent to relieve me. Is Chief Blydh…?”

  “No, he lives, just, but he’s a long way from recovery. What have you to report?”

  “The Lady Brea and the Chief of the Duros have been away from their camp at the Gittesham Stones. They were on their way back to the River Sid when I started back.”

  “It was definitely the Lady Brea you saw?”

  “Clear as day, Fur Benyn. There’s no mistaking that one, if you know what I mean.”

  I did know what the warrior meant. After Aebba’s death, her mild manners and tolerance vanished, replaced by a brash young woman with lofty ambitions. Her attitude and clothing altered overnight. If this warrior said he saw Brea at the stones, I had no reason to disbelieve him.

  “That must be why they haven’t retaliated yet. Those stones are not far from their camp though. They will be preparing their approach any day now.” Where were Faolan’s ships? Had they been intercepted by the Ivernii before they could make it around Land’s End to help us? Our defence strategies were even more important than ever.

  I thanked the warrior and sent him to the Long Hut to inform Tallack and the elders of all he’d seen. Staggering into my hut, I made sure that Cryda was watching over her son, and then collapsed onto the bunk meant for patients. My hunger would have to wait until I’d slept.

  Within moments, the world about me disappeared. I know not how long I dozed, but it was dark when the squeals woke me. Cryda and Kerensa were flapping about Blydh as though he was on fire. Rubbing my eyes and straining to see, the grogginess subsided.

  “What is it? What’s all the noise?” I pulled myself up and crossed the rushes to see for myself. Blydh was awake, but his left eye looked strange. Cryda and Kerensa were skipping about hugging each other. Shoving them aside, I leaned in and took a closer look. The black circle inside his eye was massive, far larger than the one on his right. That spelled trouble. “Can you hear me, Nephew? Do you remember what happened?”

  He blinked a few times, moaned and closed his eyes again. Panicked, I rested my hand on his chest. His heart was still as strong as before, even if his skin felt clammy.

  “He’ll be back to himself in no time at all, won’t he Meliora?” Cryda remarked. Her former dislike for Kerensa had suddenly vanished. Now she seemed thrilled to have her at his bedside, the two women bouncing around with joy. Such a fickle woman. It was too soon to celebrate. Although he was able to open his eyes, we still had no idea if he had any awareness, let alone whether he could speak or move.

  It was late. I could tell from the frost gathering on the tips of the grass as I walked back to the Long Hut. Tallack presided over the elders and all his Sea Warriors, treating them to fine roasted meats and more ale than could be spared. What was he thinking? We needed to maintain our stocks of food in the event of a siege. There was no getting through to these youngsters the necessity of preparation. Despite my annoyance, the smell of slow cooked pork basted in butter was too much to bear. I sneaked a bowlful of rabbit stew and ripped a hunk of pork from one of the platters at the top table. My stomach rebelled from the long abstinence, but I was determined to get it down me.

  Tallack watched me tucking into the food. “How fares my brother, Aunt?”

  I swallowed my mouthful and sat alone at the table laid out for Kerensa, myself and the Chief’s man friend, Treeve. He sat next to Tallack in the Ruvane’s chair as though he had every right to be there. I squinted at the upstart, but he just smirked defiantly.

  “Blydh opened his eyes just a while ago, but then went back to sleep without saying anything. I’ll redress his stitches as soon as I’m fed.”

  Tallack stood and lifted his cup of ale, encouraging his warriors to stand with him. “To my brave brother, Chief Blydh. He’ll live to fight and defeat the Duros yet.” His warriors cheered, they all drank and sat back down. Tallack was in one of his irritating loud moods.

  “See my incredible aunt there,” He gestured to me, although there was no need. Everyone in the compound knew who I was, especially the accident prone and sickly ones. “She galloped off to be at my brother’s side in his time of need. Without her, Blydh would surely have succumbed to his wounds.”

  My mouth was too full to correct him. In truth, Renowden and Kewri were the saviours. Without their strength and quick actions, Blydh would be on a spike in the centre of the Duro camp. By the time I had cleared my mouth enough to speak, he’d moved on.

  “My traitorous half-brother has stolen an unbeatable weapon of the gods. A truly magnificent sword, forged by Cernonnus himself, and gifted to my aunt during the midsummer gathering at Stonehenge. Is that not so, Aunt Mel?”

  “Well, not really it was…”

  “As she performed the ritual cleanse in the lakes near to the sacred grounds, Cernonnus sent the shining blade through the water to find her. Being the dutiful kin of Meterns, she kept it safe for Blydh and me, so that we could take possession of it when our trials were over.”

  “But that’s not what…”

  “Paega, spiteful and shameful brute that he is, stole it from her to side with our enemies.” He banged his cup down on the table. The ale splashed all about him. “Now Paega believes he has the gods’ favour. The sword of Cernonnus shattered my brother’s axe, but did not kill him. Cernonnus did not want Blydh to die.”

  I sighed. He knew his story to be false, yet would not let me correct him. Now the ill-advised raid would become part of our spoken history as some message from the gods. He hadn’t finished his point, and I’d given up trying to put things straight.

  “We will not let this pretender, Paega keep this sacred blade. We’ll forge a new weapon with which to take it back, and offer a sacrifice worthy of all the warriors waiting for us in the Summerlands. What say you all?”

  The roar of cheers and stamping was unbearable. It made my head thump. I had no idea how he would find out what made the sword so strong. He’d only seen it from a great distance. The rest of his knowledge was made up of what I’d told him. It was certainly made of no metal that I’d ever seen before. Maybe it was from the gods.

  “We should give a large sacrifice to honour Cernonnus, Chief Tallack.” Young Treeve piped up. I didn’t like the devious smile he wore as he spoke out. “Perhaps a high status maid warrior, someone who would please the gods, and who would be grateful that Blydh was spared.”

  We all knew whom he had in mind. Kerensa may not be of Chieftain bloo
d, but she was a clan leader’s daughter, and someone Treeve would rather have killed.

  It irked me more than I imagined. “Maybe a young Sea Warrior would suit the gods better. Would you like to volunteer, to show your loyalty to your Chief?”

  Tallack roared with laughter.

  Treeve was spitting with fury. “Are you going to let her talk to me like that?”

  Tallack patted Treeve on the knee. “Don’t be so sensitive. She’s teasing you.”

  I wasn’t, but hey, if it kept Tallack on my side I was prepared to let it go.

  Tallack thought for a moment, tapping his finger to his chin. “He does raise a good question though. Something so precious and important as a weapon of the gods would need a sacrifice of some magnitude. Who should we choose?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The entire hut fell silent. Both Tallack and Blydh had the authority to choose anyone within the tribe as an offering to the gods. The more senior position the chosen victim held, the greater the sacrifice. Despite my recent doubts over their existence, I was beginning to think that the whole terrible incident with Blydh’s wounds could have been avoided if I hadn’t goaded our deities beforehand. I dared not speak up, nor look directly at my nephew for fear of him choosing me.

  “Aunt Mel?”

  My stomach lurched. Was he picking me for death, or asking my opinions? Keeping my eyes cast down, I said, “Yes, my Chief?”

  “Can you not think of a suitable gift to honour our god of the Underworld in payment for his favour in the battle to come?”

  I could feel his and the elders’ stares warming my skin in anticipation. Was he really asking me to pick a person from our tribe to die in a grotesque way to sate a god’s vengeful thirst for blood?

  “Well?”

  Such an impatient lad, he wouldn’t give me time to think of an alternative. The faces of all the people I had seen about the compound that day flashed before my eyes. None deserved to die. That was when the vision of the white hart flitted through my mind, the secret sighting of the lonesome deer. Would it be sufficient? Did we have enough time to hunt before Brea and the Duros marched west for our lives? It was all I had to offer. “With respect, Chief Tallack, would it not be better to offer something pure and unsullied by human hands, something that Cernonnus could identify with himself?”