Pagan Revenge

by Sam Taw

  “Now then, little sister. What should I do with you?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Tallack took a great gulp of ale from his cup, all the while squinting at his half-sister and her husband from the mountains.

  Derwa sighed. “Are you trying to suggest that you wouldn’t have done the exact same thing if Blydh was bound up by your enemies? All I did was burrow under the shelter skins from the back and cut his ties. You can’t kill me for that.”

  “No? Maybe not, but I can banish you for all time. We were not enemies, you and I, but from this day onward we shall be. If you or any of the Ordos set foot on our lands without permission and a respectable tribute, you shall be hunted down and beheaded for your crimes. We have plenty of trade partners for our tin. We no longer need to appease you stinking mountain people.”

  Glaw looked shaken for the first time since I’d met him. Without realising it, his actions had secured our new copper supplies and ruined the agreement his father had made with us for our tin. His disgrace would spread far and wide, bringing shame on all his family.

  Tallack leaned to his left and spoke quietly to one of his crewmen. “Ride out as far as the northern coast and give them nothing for their crossing. Derwa has plenty of metal jewellery to pay their passage. Make sure they leave before you return.”

  I had mixed feelings about Tallack’s sentence, but it was a lighter punishment than if Blydh were sitting at the top table. I was sad to see her being marched from the Long Hut and out of my life for good. It could have been far worse, with her sacrifice adding to those of the Novantae captives.

  There were times when Derwa reminded me of her stubborn father, but more often she resembled her mother. From that perspective she would be of more use to us alive and in the Ordoviches camp, stirring up discord wherever she went. I went to the doorway and watched the men shove her belongings into her arms and continue their prodding with spears. She would have to leave the bay mare behind. They had a long walk ahead of them and our horses belonged to the tribe.

  Paega hung from that pole for most of the day while the men built him his own cage. It had no roof nor walls, just bars of timber that were too thick to break. Each pole was hammered some distance into the ground so that he could not dig his way out. Women and children threw their waste at him as they passed by, tittering at how far he’d fallen.

  As soon as the southern gates were repaired, the men started to build the second pyre, and third fire, in a quarter moon. The mood about camp was sombre, not just in mourning for our fallen, but in fear for their Chieftain Blydh. Cryda had left him with Kewri while she returned to her own hut to suckle little Delen.

  “Any change?” I asked. There were few enough of my kin left, without us losing another. Kewri shook his head and gestured towards the door. I was starting to understand the great lump’s non-spoken language, after a fashion. He needed to stretch his legs and do something practical, instead of sitting and watching a man slowly fade away. That was best left to women. We had the patience to hope for the best, instead of expecting the worst.

  Blydh’s skin was cool. His fever had broken. The holly leaf broth had done its job at last, but would he awake from the trauma to his head? All I could do was wait. There was plenty to keep me busy. Blydh was a mess. Thankfully, I had slipped some waxed cloth beneath him to protect the furs from the worst. I piled wood on the fire to keep him warm and heat some water for washing. I feared that if he didn’t regain consciousness soon, his insides would dry up from lack of food and drink.

  When he was washed and covered again, I kept busy with my tonics and tinctures, herbal preparations and grinding grain for flour until Tallack came to visit. I could tell from his face that banishing his little sister weighed heavily in his thoughts. He was fonder of her than he would admit. Her betrayal hurt him more than anything Faolan or Paega had done. To him, it had been a personal attack. I could see both sides of the argument, and chose to keep them to myself.

  “Is there any change to his condition, Aunt Mel?” He said, pulling off his cloak and settling by the fire.

  “He is as you see. I found some dried mistletoe in my kit to reduce the swelling, but it’s not as good as fresh.” My ale jugs were almost empty from all the visitors, but I poured out what remained for him into a cup. He took it from me but didn’t drink. I could tell that something was at the front of his mind, trying to find a way out. I sat next to him and waited patiently. He would open up to me when he was ready.

  After a few moments of fidgeting and scratching, he said; “The men think me feeble for not giving Derwa a harsher sentence. They think that Glaw will return to the Ordoviches with tales about my weaknesses.”

  “Is that so? And did you say that killing the heir to their tribe would have given us even more enemies to contend with? Haven’t we enough problems with Brea and the Duros, plus the Ivernii? Cernonnus knows where they have got to. For all we know, they are waiting down the coast to try again.”

  Tallack shook his head. “Renowden would have sent word. His orders were to patrol the shoreline for trouble and make port if there was any news to give. I gave him plenty of tin and a couple of reliable men. Anyone of them could have bought a horse from a homesteader and ridden straight here.”

  “Well that’s a relief. Old Dathi must have decided that it wasn’t worth risking his men or fleet in support of the Duros.”

  Tallack sniffed, smiling. “He’s as changeable as the wind. I expect that he wasn’t interested in the deal they had on the table. Maybe our tin was more appealing to him than maintaining his hatred for us.”

  “When all is said and done, any Chieftain will swap sides if it benefits their tribe. It’s something you must remember for the next time you cross swords with one.”

  He nodded slowly, his grin fading. “What am I to do with Faolan and Sorcha? I don’t want to dishonour the memory of our fallen by slinging them on the pyre.”

  It seemed an odd thing to ask me. His father was highly inventive when it came to dispatching our enemies. Perhaps Tallack was less like old Aebba than I thought. “What would you like to do with them?”

  He pondered my question for a while, sipping at the ale. “I should like to give an offering to Cernonnus. I truly believe that you played a huge part in garnering the support of the gods for us. It would be right to give something back in return for his continued favour, especially with Blydh the way he is.”

  “I think Faolan would be a perfect offering to our gods. We could take him to the Nine Maidens on the moor and ask the priestess to preside over the sacrifice. She’s Dumnonii born and bred. Lived here at the old compound. It would be all the more potent for her involvement.”

  That brought his smile back. “We could have the feast there. Blydh would love that.” He glanced over his shoulder at his brother laying in the bunk and sucked in his lips.

  “He won’t be up to the travelling. Cryda and I should stay with him, in case…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the statement. Tallack knew what I failed to say.

  “But I should like you to be with me, Aunt. If it wasn’t for your advice, we would be overrun with Duros and stabbed between the shoulder blades by Novantae. You know the priestess as well. She will readily give her blessing if you are with us.”

  His plea was so earnest, I couldn’t refuse. As it was, there was little I could do for Blydh’s recovery except watch and wait. Cryda could do that, especially if I left her with plenty of willow and more holly should the fever return. “As you wish, Nephew, but there is one request I would make of you, while we are alone.”

  His brow furrowed in concern. Considering his latest confidence, it was a lot to ask of him.

  “It is in regard to Sorcha.” I began.

  He rolled his eyes and gave me a great exasperated sigh. “You are too soft by half. If you think I am going to pardon her, you can think again. The men already think me weak. That would confirm it as fact.”

  “Hear me out first. In killing both Nov
antae heirs, plus Faolan and Sorcha, we risk them appointing a new leader from their family who will make it a priority to avenge their deaths. We have no idea whether Faolan has brothers or nephews who could be worthy warriors in their own right. By keeping Sorcha alive, they would be less likely to attack. She would be our living hostage. We can also use her for information about their tribe; who has ships, which tribes are their allies and what numbers and weapons are in their arsenal. That kind of thing.”

  He squinted at me for a moment, contemplating my idea.

  I needed to give him a better reason for keeping her alive. “You could make her your slave. Not to prepare your food or anything risky like that, but she could prove useful.”

  I could tell from his features that he liked that idea a lot. I suspected that it had more to do with how she could service him under his furs than pour his ale.

  “You are a shrewd old bird, aren’t you?” He said. “But I want her to see her father’s sacrifice, just as a warning to her should she fail to please me.”

  I stand corrected. He is exactly like his father. The matter seemed to be resolved. He walked over to Blydh and touched his forehead with affection. “Come back to us, brother. We need your strong will and courage.” With that, he emptied his cup and left my hut to arrange all that we’d decided. After he’d gone, I had a pang of guilt erupt inside my chest, manifesting as heart burn. I wasn’t sure whether I’d done the right thing by Sorcha after all. Would she have preferred a sacrificial death rather than a long life as a Chieftain’s slave? I wasn’t so sure. As brutal as her death might have been, it would have only lasted a few moments at best. By sailing south, she was aware that her father intended to bind her to one of my nephews. She would have prepared herself for the possibility of sharing at least one of their beds. Time will tell if I made the right decision.

  When Cryda returned from feeding Delen, I gave her the news about Tallack’s trip to the Nine Maidens and explained why it was necessary for her to stay behind. She didn’t seem at all bothered to be missing the festivities. It looked to me that she needed the rest. While she watched over her son, I went to the pony pen to see the white hart.

  As I went to open the gate, I saw him waiting for me. It was becoming as much a ritual for me as the daily feast of grain was for him. I muttered my thanks to Cernonnus and related my news about the forthcoming offerings in appreciation for his support. I didn’t expect him to move from the safety of the trees, but as I started to empty my pockets of the wheat and oats I’d brought for him, he moved towards me.

  I stood almost in a trance as he gradually approached. He was so beautiful. Those huge dark eyes against the white of his fur, the new buds of growth between his alert ears, I was in total awe of his majesty. My Jago would have called him a King of all beasts. A creature worthy of ruling enormous cities on the other side of the world. More than anything, I wished my slave could’ve seen this stag. He would think me truly blessed.

  The more I thought of Jago, the closer the hart drew, until he was almost close enough to eat from my hand. I stayed there for a time, not daring to move until he’d eaten all the grain from the ground. I lifted my hand and displayed the last of my offering in my palm, but he was too timid to take it from me. Letting it fall to the grass, I turned and quietly gave my thanks, before leaving the pen.

  On the way back to my hut, I passed Paega in his cage. He called out to me, asking for assistance, but I scurried away pretending not to hear him. It was cowardly, I know, but there was nothing I could do to help him. I was pushing my luck as it was. If I asked Tallack for any more leniency, we would both feel the wrath of the tribe. Our family had been the cause of too many deaths. Families were struggling to come to terms with their losses, and Paega was directly accountable for many.

  That evening, the whole compound turned out in respect for the lighting of the pyre. Tallack spoke eloquently, praising their valour and courage in fighting the Duros. Four tribal elders lit the kindling, sending the flames up the greased stakes to the bodies laid above. The air was as still and crisp as it had been the night before, with every bright hole in the sky open and ready to receive their spirits. As their flesh burned, tiny embers floated up with the smoke, carrying them to the Summerlands. It was a fitting tribute to such noble warriors and shield maidens.

  The food in the Long Hut afterwards was humble but plentiful. Stews, boiled grains and bread to soak up the juices. All those present were invited to accompany Tallack and I to the Nine Maidens for the sacrifice of the Novantae Chieftain, and the celebration feast prepared and loaded on the cart for transportation in the morning.

  When I got back to my hut late into the night, Cryda was less angry. She told me that Blydh had a few moments where he was almost conscious. During that time, she was able to get a little goat’s milk into him. That was a good sign. She returned to her own hut to sleep, leaving Kewri and I to watch him overnight. I admit that I expected to wake the next morning with him sitting up in bed and demanding porridge and bacon, but there was no change in his condition. If anything, his skin looked greyer than ever, even if the wound in his scalp appeared to be healing.

  With nothing more to be done for him I gathered my things and when Cryda arrived, I mounted my horse to join the processional walk to the Nine Maidens stone circle. Tallack chose his best warriors to stay on guard at the compound, just in case Brea had scouts monitoring our activities, looking for when we were most vulnerable. When everyone was ready to leave, Faolan and Sorcha were led out from the shelter and attached to ropes.

  Sorcha was stripped of her shoes and outer garments, leaving her bare foot and wearing nothing more than a thin tunic. Faolan was stripped entirely. His naked flesh was sagging from hunger and he was uncommonly filthy. It saddened me to see such a great man reduced in mockery. He was too weak to fight against his treatment. Their ropes were hooked to the back of warrior horses, forcing them to run or be dragged on their faces all the way to the moors.

  I knew that I would not be permitted to help either of them. This was part of the punishment; a ritual humiliation ending in death. No one had told Sorcha that she would not be killed alongside her father. Tallack intended it to seem like a mercy, thus assuring her cooperation as a slave. I wasn’t sure that it was a sensible plan, but for once, I kept my mouth shut.

  The Novantae are beyond tough. I doubted that Sorcha would see enslavement as a preferable option to death, but then I was glad that she wouldn’t be given in sacrifice. She was so young. There was always a chance that she could be redeemed in Tallack’s eyes and go on to live a happy life. Stranger things have happened.

  Our journey was not swift. Although I knew the trail like the back of my hand, our prisoners slowed the pace significantly. For each settlement we passed, the people wanted to hurl rotted kawgh and spit at them as a gesture of support. We rested in the same place by the river, before beginning the climb up the long hill. From there it was mainly downhill, through the woodland at the crossing of the River Taw and up on to the plateau marking the start of the moor.

  Tallack agreed to allow Sorcha and her father a brief moment or two at the river to drink and wash themselves down. It seemed appropriate that they should be clean for the ceremony. The gods would not be pleased with a stinking offering.

  When we reached the circle, it was utterly deserted.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  There were no fires, no shelters nor any of the usual cattle and goat pens associated with the maidens. The priestess and her collection of men and young girls were nowhere to be seen. Worried that I had dragged everyone from the safety of our compound for nothing, I rode back down the hillside towards the settlement further along the river. Kewri insisted on coming with me, while Tallack ordered his men to make camp and set about gathering firewood. The days were lengthening, but the nights were still bitterly cold.

  Making our way along the river at dusk, we spotted light from a fire in a secluded dell ahead of us. Kewri went ahead on his sturd
y cart horse armed with a spear and blade. By the time I caught up with him, he was warming himself around the flames. Endelyn and her companions were all sitting beneath hurdle shelters.

  She gave me the most beguiling smile. I dismounted and she rushed towards me, touching her forehead to mine as though we were related. It was a tender moment.

  “Why are you all down here in the valley?” I asked her, nodding my greetings to her maidens and priests.

  “This is our last night together. From here, the maidens have decided to move on to the midsummer circle at Stonehenge. The priests will scatter, some to their homelands, others I know not.”

  “Really? You surprise me. I thought that this was your chosen life and that you were content to remain here.”

  She sat back down and offered me bread and warm milk. “After that terrible incident with those Duros when you visited, we all realised just how vulnerable we are up here. Now we don’t feel safe isolated from other communities. Any one of us could have been killed if it hadn’t been for Kewri.” She gave him the benefit of her cheeky smile and winked at him. He blushed.

  “Where will you go?”

  “Actually, I was hoping that I could come back to the compound on the Exe. You said it was rebuilt and stronger than ever. I left after my family were taken by the winter ague because I thought there was no place for me. The Lady Eseld and her Priest Sect provided all the spiritual nourishment the tribe could ever need. When you told me that she was dead and the priests banished, I thought perhaps that you might be in need of my services.” She looked at me with a coyness that I thought was well rehearsed. All that aside, I was happy for her to settle with us.

  “As it happens, we are in need of your services right now. If you are willing to spend one more night at the circle, we can pay you well and provide more food than you can eat in one sitting.”