by Sam Taw
This was why she had returned my beads and treated me with extra kindness. I was humbled indeed. There was she eking out a living as a moorland priestess and I came from the wealthiest family in the whole area. My shame must have registered on my face. She took both my hands in hers.
“Tell me, Fur Benyn, why are you all alone on a chilly spring night in the middle of the moors? Where are your kin? Something is troubling you; I can tell.”
She was right, but how could I relate all that had happened? She knew my family almost as well as me. What if they were the cause of her isolation in this bleak and inclement place? “Perhaps it was stupid of me to come all this way. I thought I might be able to appease the gods. I made the mistake of insulting them, and now my family are suffering hardship as a result.” I hung my head expecting her to be furious with me. Her entire life revolved around speaking with the gods.
“You know, Fur Benyn, I don’t believe that they are as vengeful as people make them out to be. Think about Cerridwen. She understands every stage a woman must pass through, all that they must suffer in bringing new life into the world, the trials and tribulations of changes to our bodies and the despair when our loved ones are lost to us. She is not just maiden, mother, crone, but contains all the knowledge of the world within her. With that level of understanding, how could she condemn any of us? Cerridwen embodies forgiveness, as only a mother can.”
Although I had no living child to my name, she made sense to me. I see it in Cryda daily. Tallack and Blydh could go out on a rampaging killing spree and she would forgive their sins in a moment. Her love for them was absolute, as my own had been all those summers ago. “It comforts me to know that one goddess still favours me. How can I make amends to the rest?”
“Am I to assume that your insult was in declaring that you no longer believed in our gods?”
She was more astute than I realised. I nodded.
“And was this declaration while you were under some sort of extreme fatigue or ague of your own?”
“Someone close to me was killed.” I muttered, feeling the rush of heat scaling my chest and neck at the thought.
“Then your outburst was understandable at the time, and you have come all this way to seek forgiveness. I don’t think you are to blame for the misfortunes falling on your kin. If I remember them correctly, they are all fairly headstrong and therefore responsible for their own actions.” She stood up, still holding my hands. “A small offering and an incantation should clear the air. Come along.”
I recalled her little face clearly now. She was always a clever little thing. I took the copper beads from my pocket and offered them to her again.
“No, this is on me. No one else gave me honeycomb, Fur Benyn.” She winked at me in the flickering light from the fires surrounding the circle. The maidens were still sitting on their stones, completing the ritual for the parents of the sickly babe. It was my turn next. Endelyn waited for the couple to make their sacrifice and let them wander towards the stew pot and the revelling warriors.
She chose a duck from the wooden boxes near to the stones. Carrying it around its fat middle, she held it firmly with one hand clutching the top of its neck. The bird fought against her, kicking out and making an awful racket. “Do you have a blade, Fur Benyn, or do you need to borrow one?”
I produced a small bronze knife from my kit and followed her into the stone ring. The pipers and drummers began. The priests stood by confused, as Endelyn strode to the very centre and stood on top of the sacred burial stone. She was going to perform the ceremony herself, in my honour.
When she was ready, she nodded to the musicians to halt their playing so that she might ask Cernonnus and the Morrighan for forgiveness. The lit torches surrounding her in the centre of the circle cast shadows across her pretty face. She looked less like the charming little girl with honey dripping from her chin now and more like a powerful priestess with the ear of the gods.
She flicked her head at me, summoning me closer with the knife. All the maidens looked on in awe, as though this was an exceedingly rare occurrence for the top lady to get herself dirty on behalf of a penitent.
“May we all bear witness to this offering. It is given in the spirit of forgiveness. We ask that all the gods bless this noble woman and all that she does for others, in the name of Airmed, Goddess of Healing.” She looked down at me. “Is there anything that you would like to say to the gods while they are listening?”
I felt ridiculous, standing there in my dirty travelling clothes in front of priests and maidens and nine warriors, all listening to the silly old women say sorry to invisible deities. Still, I’d walked a long way to make peace, I wasn’t about to spoil the moment. “I shall never take the gods for granted ever again, nor call them to account. My life is theirs to do with as they see fit, in return for their lenience on my kin.”
“Bless you.” Endelyn whispered, her smile fixed and comforting. With a raise of her eyebrows, the drummers bashed out a rhythm for me to pace forward and end the unfortunate duck’s life. This I did as swiftly as possible, with as little bloodshed as could be managed.
“There.” She said. “All is right in this world once again, Fur Benyn.”
The relief I felt was indescribable. She passed the dead duck to another priest and together, we began walking towards the fires. That was when I noticed one of the warriors staring at me. I turned away quickly, but it was too late.
“They called Wenna’s aunt, Fur Benyn.” He said to the other warriors. “She was the medicine woman from the Dumnonii. Healed the rotted arm of a friend of mine. She looked exactly like her.” He pointed directly at me as they approached.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
They were so huge compared to my feeble little body. Nine large warriors surrounded me and the priestess, three had already unsheathed their blades ready to do serious harm. Endelyn shoved me behind her, shouting at them to abide by the terms of peace in the sacred space, but I knew that would not hold them off after all the sacrifices made that night. The maidens fled, shortly followed by the cowardly priests.
I could hear a distant rumbling of heavy hooves on dry chalky ground approaching. Was this the rest of his warrior friends? What possible gain would they achieve by slaughtering an old woman and the unarmed priestess? My puny blade would be useless against their mighty force, unless they meant to capture me and deliver me to the Lady Brea and her hulking great Duro Chieftain? Either way, my life would be forfeit.
As I stared into the chilling eyes of my foe, a peculiar calm came over me. I had made my peace with the gods. They would accept me into the Underworld for the price of my bronze blades and a few beads. The rumbling grew louder, but I closed my eyes to it all. I would not die screaming in fear, but as a daughter of Chieftains. Holding my head high, I waited for the blade to be thrust into my gut, or for my head to be sliced from my shoulders so that it would end as quickly and painlessly as I had taken the life of the duck.
The thundering hooves were at a gallop now, and it was one heavy horse. Peeking from beneath one half-opened eyelid, I tried to see what was the cause of the delay in dispatching me. When I saw who was cresting the top of the ridge, I almost broke down sobbing. Kewri kicked the carthorse into top speed, covering the distance between us in a flash. He held no blade, nor axe, nor bow. His fists and strength were all that stood between me and certain death.
Without a single thought for his own safety, he hurled his enormous mass from the fleet-footed horse onto three of the waiting warriors at once. His fists whirling, his elbows jabbing, his head butting, he laid them out cold before they could strike him with their short swords.
Rolling from their crushed bodies, Kewri was up in a flash. I’d never seen him in action before. It was thrilling beyond words. For such a huge man, he was nimble on his feet.
The first lunge with a blade he side-stepped, smashing his fist into the man’s face with such force, I heard the lower jaw dislocate as teeth and blood shot from his opponent’s mout
h.
Before the next warrior could raise an axe in fury, Kewri reached behind and took hold of the chin of another, yanking the Duro fighter right over his head until his neck snapped. Kewri released the dead man as he reached shoulder level with his body, knocking down the rest of the Duros like a child’s game.
There were three left standing. None of them dared to move. Kewri stomped closer to them and all three ran for their horses, mounting and galloping away before they could pack up their belongings.
As far as I could tell, Kewri had a small cut on his hand and another graze on his forehead from the initial head butt and crush, but in a fight against nine armed warriors, he was unharmed.
When the riders had vanished into the darkness of the moors, he came to check me over. Resting one hand on my shoulder he leaned back and looked me up and down, assessing any damage. I had to grin.
“Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?” He bellowed at me, before surrounding me with those huge arms and hugging me until I could no longer fill my lungs. My arms were pinned against my sides.
“Can’t breathe.”
He lessened his grip but still didn’t let me go. “Sorry.”
“Kewri, as grateful as I am to you, I’m not your responsibility.” My voice was muffled by the folds of his tunic. I wriggled free from his grasp to gather my things together. The priestess was astonished by the entire spectacle. “Are you alright, my dear?” I asked her. She nodded with her mouth still wide open in shock.
Kewri rested his bloodied fists on his hips and pouted. “You are my responsibility, which means you cannot just wander off whenever the mood takes you. From now on you are not to leave camp without me, is that clear?”
It was hard to keep a straight face. He was just a young recruit as far as tribal hierarchy was concerned. To order me about was comical, but his concern was genuine. My heart melted. “Thank you for rescuing me, even though I didn’t know that I’d need it. You are kinder to me than I deserve.”
He fidgeted and smiled. “You do deserve it, Fur Benyn. You look after everyone in camp and yet, no one looks after you.”
“You’ve protected me admirably since that day on the training ground. It’s the second time you’ve saved my life, Kewri. I owe you. No wonder you wanted to build you own hut to be away from me.”
His smile wrinkled up into a frown. “You mean the shelter I started next to yours… that’s for your patients. I’ve already got my bed in your hut.”
That tipped me over the edge. I sniffed back the tears. I started to introduce him to Endelyn, so that we could come to some sort of an arrangement over the dead bodies and injured warriors that were left.
Kewri interrupted me. “Begging your pardon, but we don’t have time to figure all this out. The Duro’s are marching towards our compound as we speak. I was sent to fetch you back…I mean I would’ve come anyway, but Chief Tallack was right mardy when he found you’d gone. We all thought you were in the forest picking your herbs and that, but you didn’t come back.”
It was the most I’d ever heard him say in one go since we’d met. He was all fired up from his fight. “But the horses haven’t rested.”
“They can rest when we get back. You have to come now, they need you.”
“Why, what’s happened?”
“It’s Chief Blydh. I think that gold plate you put in his head has slipped. He keeps passing out cold.”
I didn’t need to hear anymore. I thanked the priestess, gave her all the copper I had hidden in my medicine kit, and apologised for the additional burdens. She didn’t seem at all bothered by the dead Duros, but then she was born a Dumnoni and she’ll die a Dumnoni. I dare say the Duros will always be our enemy and there were six fewer to attack our compound on the Exe.
Kewri took some of the load from my horse and helped me up onto its back. Despite my long walk and aching bones, we had no other option but to ride hard through the night to get home. The route was still fresh in my mind, making navigation easier. The tricky bits were through the dark wooded regions, where the moon could not light our way.
We stopped once to water the horses and ourselves, before pushing them on until we reached the soggy marshes near to our homeland forest. Here, Kewri whispered to me that we should make as little noise as possible. It was likely that the Duro scouts would be in the area and would hear us cantering along. My horse was frothing with sweat and panting hard, but we could not stop. Picking our way through the lesser known tracks of the forest, we followed the tributaries that I knew well, and that led directly to the island.
As we neared the northern gates, I noticed that both crossings that Renowden had designed and made, were out of action. The first was lifted into an upright position, the second was dragged away into the compound before the gates were shut. They were battle ready and awaiting the Duro attack. My pulse raced. I found myself trembling from my gut all the way to my fingers, but on we trotted.
Kewri led the way around the island towards the western gate. This too was barricaded with spiked ramparts across the shingle ridge of the stream. We hurried to the southern gate, wondering all the time if the Duros were watching us and waiting for an opportunity to pounce. We were lucky. We made it to the watchtower and called up to the man on duty. Within moments, the gates opened just enough to let us through, before slamming closed again. A large post was hoisted across the gates securing us inside.
My relief was immense. I never thought that I would be welcome within these walls again. It just shows what an irrational old woman I can be at times. There were many bridges to build with the twins to regain their favour. It started with repairing Blydh’s skull. I’d been thinking about how best to help him all the way home. That’s if he would let me try.
The camp was deathly quiet. Even the warrior shelters were silent, with a few pacing up and down the stream nearby. The pyre at the northern end still smouldered after all that time. It made me think of how fire might be used against us. I wondered if Tallack had also considered that in the preparations. Grabbing my medicine bag, I sent Kewri off with the horses and ducked into the Long Hut.
It was filled with the most senior warriors, tribal elders and our two Chiefs sitting in their tall chairs at the top table.
Tallack saw me enter. “Where the kyjya have you been? I sent scouts out combing the forests and hillsides looking for you.”
“I went to see the priestess at the Nine Maidens.” It made perfect sense when I decided to go, now it sounded as though I was a child seeking her father’s attention by running away from home.
“You chose now to restore your faith in the gods? Cernonnus keep me from clouting you…” Tallack’s voice trailed off. Maybe he realised that he’d sounded just like his own father. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. Blydh’s head’s not right. Show her brother.”
I was frightened to approach Blydh. The change in attitude had shaken me to the core. His actions were erratic and confusing, but as I drew nearer, I could see that his left eye was facing a different direction to his right eye. That was the one in which he had no vision. Were there more fragments of bone shifting inside his brain?
Blydh leaned forwards for me to look at the top of his scalp. The swelling had reduced, easing the pressure on the stitches, but there was an odd shape to the top of his head. Kewri was right, the plate had shifted under the skin. I’d been lucky the first time, poking about in our Chieftain’s head. What if he did not survive a second time? Would I be held responsible for his death? I stood out of arm’s reach and held my hand over my mouth. It hid the fact that my hands were shaking.
“Well?” Tallack asked with more impatience than normal. “Can you put it right?”
I stared into Blydh’s eyes trying to figure out his state of mind. “I can’t make any promises, but I will try. That’s if you’re willing to trust me, Nephew?” He raised his head up. It was hard to tell if he could see me. His face twitched with a distinct lack of control but he nodded a fraction in cons
ent.
“I will need some help and a few things.” I began to say but Tallack cut through my request.
“Fine, take whoever or whatever you need to get it done.” He flicked his hand towards the door dismissing me to my duties. Blydh was not the only one to have altered in his personality. The strain of ruling our tribe was starting to affect Tallack too.
Grabbing Renowden on my way out, I asked him to collect some items and bring them to my hut. Kewri was hovering at the unfinished shelter wringing his hands together regretfully. He couldn’t have worked any harder to get it finished, there was no need for apologies.
“Can you go and help Chief Blydh back to my bunk? We will have to open him back up again.”
Before I could carry wood from the stacks beneath my eaves inside to make a fire, a distant rumble travelled through the skies. Were the gods angry at us or at the Duros for marching on our compound? Either way, I knew that they were not far off. I had to work quickly before the fighting began. Perhaps my visit to the Nine Maidens was not wasted after all. Cernonnus and the Morrighan were warning me of their approach. There was even the chance that they would send a torrent of rain to render the soils around the island too boggy for the warriors to trudge through.
Kewri practically carried Blydh and for once, our Chief was silent and compliant. He sat on the edge of my bunk and winced, stifling a whimper.
“Is the pain very bad?” I asked him.
“I can take it, Aunt Mel.” It stopped me in my tracks. I was back to being his Aunt Mel. Was it fear that mellowed his temper, or the shift in the golden sun disc? He looked up at me with huge sorrowful tears welling in his eyes.
“Blydh, you understand what I need to do?”
Another pained nod followed.
“Then you must drink this.” I handed him a heavy dose of poppy resin mixed with water. “I can’t have you moving about while I put the plate back.”
He accepted the resin and sank it in one long gulp. Laying back on the rolled-up furs, he let his head fall back over the end of the bunk so that I could reach him easily. I rinsed off my blades in salted water and then heated them in the flames. Kewri and I waited for him to drift off into a resin induced sleep all the while listening to the storm rolling closer and closer. For every crack of thunder, my heart beat twice as fast, for I knew that the Lady Brea and her men were fast on its heels.