by Sam Taw
As late as it was, Vina was clinging to the posts at the end of Kewri’s bunk refusing to move. Her possessions were stashed beneath and his bedding lay in a heap on the rushes. Kewri paced about not knowing how to handle the situation. Any other man would have scooped her up and physically removed her, but not the gentle giant. His snorting and sighing was pitiful.
I strode through my house and took in the whole scene in moments. “Vina, move yourself. You get the patient’s bunk over there. Behave yourself and we might make you a more comfortable bed in a moon or two.” I pointed to the low wooden structure that was little more than a wide bench with a rim to stop the bedding straw from spilling onto the floor. She grumbled and muttered but did start to move away. I kept my eye on Kewri. His shoulders slumped and his spine slackened with relief. The pair of them glowered across the room in between stretching out their furs. This was going to be a long summer.
Massen and the Sea Warriors rode out of the northern gate when dawn broke. I heard the hooves hammering on the compacted earth as they cantered through camp. With a couple of horse changes at various homesteads, they would not be long in their mission. They woke both me and Vina, but not Kewri. He stayed in his bunk long after dawn, probably pretending to be asleep to avoid the girl.
I can’t say I blamed him. The Duro was an entitled child. From the moment she awoke, she demanded eggs and cooked oats, and all manner of other items.
“Your Chieftain blood won’t wash here. Get off your kyjyan arse and see to the goats. When you’re done with that, tidy up your mess and prepare my horse. We’re going out foraging.” I figured that I should keep her out of Kewri’s way for as much of the day as possible. If I could wear her out, she would have less energy to argue. Shoving a bowl in her hand, I pointed to the goat pen and set about my chores. I could hear her grumbling and moaning from inside the hut. When I went outside to see what was taking so long, I found her wiping milk from her face and hair. With my hands resting on my hips, I scowled at her for an explanation.
“I’ve never done this before. How was I to know that these stupid creatures would wriggle about and step on the bowl?”
It took all my powers of concentration to keep a straight face. How foolish could you get, expecting goats to stand still and wait for you to steal their milk from their young? “Clean yourself up and be quick about it. We’ve a lot to do today and no time for your antics.” I ducked into my house and allowed myself a moment to laugh. By the time she was back inside with a half empty bowl, I’d managed to recover my sternness.
Vina strapped my empty hemp sacks and bags on my horse and walked it to the southern gates. I took a short detour to check up on Ren before meeting her. He too was not surprised by my news of Endelyn’s pregnancy. If she was indeed bearing my dead nephew’s child, her status within our tribe would be assured for all time. The young wolf would be of Chieftain’s blood, and unless Tallack took a wife and issued an heir, the priestess would become the future mother to our tribal Metern after Tallack’s time.
We both recalled that dreadful night when Blydh lost his senses and accused her of working with our enemies. The cruel punishment he inflicted upon the innocent woman was heard throughout camp all that night. Ren looked up at me. I could tell that he had a question but didn’t want to give it a voice.
Had she brought the assault on herself following days upon end of whispering into his ear? What had she promised him while he was half addled from the evil spirit that took him over? It was certain that she was reeling him in and positioning herself to become his wife. It was doubtful she could have predicted that he would attack her. One thing was evident; we would never know what prompted him to take such brutal action.
Safe in the knowledge that Ren was on the mend, Vina and I walked out along the river heading south. Sullen at first, the Duro girl relaxed a little when we found some duck eggs along one of the tributaries. The birds themselves flapped out of our grasp, but we were able to paddle through the shallow waters to collect all that we could find. We were lucky that not many people knew about this spot. My age does have some advantages. There were still a few choice foraging areas I kept secret from the youngsters.
Wandering towards the estuary, I scanned the marshlands and drier banks further along and was saddened to see so many people poking sticks into the silt of the low tide, scratching about for something to eat. Everywhere we looked, the plants had withered and died. With nothing to feed them, animals move on. Our people had nothing left to hunt. “Come on.” I said, warming to my new helper. “Let’s try the forest at the northern side of the camp.”
I could have left her to scurry alongside my horse, but the day was scorching and I didn’t fancy nursing her back to health after a bout of heat sickness. Offering her my arm, I helped her up onto my pony behind me and together we ambled along the trail to the woodlands. At least here it was cooler. The dense canopy shaded us from the stinging sun.
We found a cool place in which to rest and unhitched the bags from the horse. As Vina led him down to the water, he broke free from her grasp. She panicked at first, but I reassured her that he was a faithful old boy. When he’d taken his fill of the cold water, he would return to us. The horse folded his legs and sat down in the stream, frolicking about like a new foal. After a full morning of gathering, we’d taken just eight eggs, a small amount of willow bark strips, and a handful of herbs. Slim pickings indeed.
We ate some dried venison and refilled our water bladders from further upstream, before moving through the dense undergrowth. I showed her the leaf shapes to avoid, and those that could be of use, but it seemed to me that she had no interest in learning the arts of healing at all. It couldn’t have been her idea to train under my guidance, but that of her uncle. That made me like her a little more, especially since I too had little interest in teaching her. It was my mother’s wish that I should become the tribal healer after her time was over. My earliest memories were of wanting to be a shield maiden and fight battles and lead raids like my dear father. My cruel brother put paid to that notion as soon as he became Chieftain of our tribe.
As it happens, being the only medicine woman in the tribe has proven more useful than I could have ever imagined. The rarity of my skills has helped me out of a tricky situation more times than I care to admit. Training this youngster could be the only chance I have of passing my knowledge onto the next generation, and if that helps to cement ties with our new allies, so much the better.
We passed thick patches of brambles and scraped moss from fallen logs and rocks, listening out for the rustling sounds of animals nearby. The forest was surprisingly quiet for the season. What noises we heard turned out to be small birds; sparrows, crows and the like, none of which make good eating and are pretty hard to catch.
“Can you hunt, Vina? Are you good with a bow and arrow?”
She shook her head.
I sighed. “What can you do?” It was meant to help me figure out what I needed to teach her, but it came out a bit strong. She thought I was mocking her.
She folded her arms across her chest and pouted. “Well not much of any use to you, obviously.”
We’d started off on the wrong foot, and if we were to make a success of this alliance, I had to turn that around. “I didn’t mean it like that. What did you do to occupy your time in the Duro camps?”
Her arms flopped to her side, her gaze distant and wistful. After a long moment she looked back at me. “I can’t think of a single thing. We had slaves to cook, clean, take out the piss pots, do everything really.” I looked at her with fresh eyes. No wonder she struggled with every task I gave her. It explained everything, the uncooperative manner, the sullen pout and her soft hands free of callouses. She was used to luxury. I had no intention of giving into her petulant whims and whines, but I made a decision to be more patient in her tutelage.
By mid-afternoon, we broke canopy to ride along the main track through the forest to the furthest end in search of useful plants and if we we
re lucky a few mushrooms. It was a long shot, given the dry conditions, but worth a few moments to check out the sites that I knew. As we turned the final bend in the path, I heard laughter. The banter was deep and manly, coming from a clearing off the trail. Safe in our own lands, it could only have been warriors from our camp.
I urged Vina to jump down from the pony and ushered her along. “Go quietly, girl. Don’t blunder through the bushes. I want to see what they’re up to.” Tying the reins of my horse to a sturdy branch, we crept along until we could see them. There was more than twenty men from the Head Hunter Clan, lounging around a fire. Suspended above the flames roasted a whole hoglet. “Tallack must have sent them out to hunt.” I whispered.
“Well, they don’t seem to be in any hurry to take the spoils back to camp.” She made no attempt to lower her voice. I feared that they would hear us and ruin my opportunity to watch them. She was right though. If they managed to kill a young boar so easily, why were they now waiting to devour it themselves instead of going after the rest of the herd? That hog would feed a family for a quarter moon or more. I was in half a mind to stomp into the midst of them and give them a sound reprimand, but I thought it might undermine Tallack even more, having an old aunt of the Chief give them orders.
I hesitated, watching their interactions. Four of the men were shooting arrows at a target scored onto a tree trunk. Others snoozed on their bundles in the shade. One man stood out among them. He was tall, well-built and commanded respect from the others. When he spoke, they listened. When he moved, they watched intently. When he suggested something, they were keen to please him. I knew his name of course. I’d watched him grow up under the command of the twin’s father, Aebba. This man was Kitto, as strong and fierce a warrior as you’d ever meet.
There was no strutting nor preening, like you sometimes see with the younger men. His self-assured manner had a massive impact on the others. If they approached the cooking boar with their impatient fingers, he only needed to gently shake his head and they backed away without a murmur. I remembered him as a child. He was younger than the twins’ father by a considerable amount, but Aebba respected him. Despite the age gap, they had trained together, fought alongside one another and protected themselves from all kinds of danger.
When Kitto was old enough to join the clans, he chose the Head Hunters. I recalled Aebba being disappointed, hoping that he would join him in swelling the Sea Warrior numbers at the time, but when Aebba became Chieftain, he did not choose Kitto to be the new leader of the Hunters. It always puzzled me until this very moment. Kitto was too much of a threat to Aebba’s leadership to award him the honour of leading his men.
Aebba had the sense to keep him pliant with ale and trinkets, trusted missions and his confidences, but never to let him lead. Without Blydh in charge of the warrior clan, Kitto had assumed the role without invitation.
I’d witnessed all I needed. Kitto was unlikely to return to camp for some days while they were pretending to hunt for our people. I shoved Vina back towards the horse and we began the short journey home at a reasonable amble. It was too warm to rush anywhere.
I’m not sure which was more irritating, the constant soggy mud of the winters or the choking dust of the summer. Everything we’d collected, plus our clothes and hair were coated in a fine powder from the track. The horse had taken on a paler colour over the course of the sultry day. He just about yanked my arm off when I relieved him of my bags, removed the reins and set him loose in the enclosure. The old boy rushed straight to the stream and drank his fill, kicking about until it was churned with silt.
Vina carried the eggs as though they were made of gold. With them cradled in the crook of her arm, I told her that she was welcome to a couple for her help. It was the first time I’d seen her smile since the crossing at the Sid. Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all. I caught her up along the boardwalk and together we went through each of the plants in my bundle. I was just explaining the uses of mallow to her when she stopped outside the shelter Kewri had built for my patients. His feet were poking out of the door.
I peered around the shutters at him lying on his oversized bunk. “What are you doing?” I asked, wondering why he’d dragged his enormous bed out of my house and into the tiny shelter.
“I can’t sleep under the same roof as her.” He jabbed his thumb in Vina’s direction. It was too late in the day for this kind of battle.
“Can’t or won’t?” I smirked.
He responded by narrowing his eyes at me. There was no harm in him staying outside, it was preferable to being indoors with the stifling heat making sleep so hard to achieve. I left him there, snorting and puffing with indignation. It suited me that he’d solved the bickering, but I did feel a little guilty that he’d been ousted from his home by Vina. If I could find a way for the two of them to get along, they could both assist me.
As we approached my hut, chatting about the process of extracting the pith from the willow bark for pain relief, she looked up into the sky and took a long sniff at the air. Her features fell into a contorted frown.
“What is it?” I asked, curious as to what her keen young senses had detected.
“Can you smell burning, I mean, more than the camp fires?”
I sniffed the air and moved to where it was the strongest. Further away from the hut, I could detect the unmistakable aroma of burning plants. It was not the sweet, mellow smell of seasoned logs, but that acrid stench when leaves, moss or heather catch fire. I looked to the north and saw a great plume of dark brown smoke rising up to the clouds and drifting out towards the sea.
CHAPTER FOUR
Vina came and stood beside me, head tipped back, mouth drooping open. “Is that some sort of signal you Dumnos use?”
“It’s too big for a signal. That’s wildfire.” With no idea how close the blaze was to camp, I thought it prudent to raise the alarm. Leaving Vina to deal with the supper, I walked to Tallack’s hut, making plenty of coughing and stamping noises to forewarn him of my arrival. “Ho there! It’s me.”
His response was quicker than I thought it would be. Virtually every time I appear at his hut, he tends to be otherwise engaged with Treeve. “Come in, Aunt Mel.” He croaked. I ducked under the drapes and found him laying across his bunk with just a small cloth to cover his bits. “You haven’t got any willow tucked in your pocket, have you. My head is splitting.” He rested his forearm across his eyes as though the late sunlight pained him.
One glance at him told me that his suffering was the result of his gluttony with ale the night before. “Water would put you straight, boy. Go and lay in the river like my pony. You smell like him too.”
Treeve tittered from across the hut. He was slicing up cold meat left over from the feast and splitting it between two bowls. I flicked Tallack’s ankle, encouraging him to move his leg for me to sit on the edge. As I lowered my creaking bones onto the bunk, I thought about which of my news was the most pressing, the idle Hunters relaxing in the forest or the billowing smoke from the north.
“There’s a wildfire not far away, I think it would be wise to see how close it is to our camp. The wind is blowing the smoke in this direction.” I waited a moment for him to react. When he said nothing, I jogged his leg.
“Yes, Aunt Mel, I’ll send someone. Now leave me in peace.”
I wanted to tell him that our tribe’s folk looked to him to keep our people safe, to provide a reliable source of grain and solid trade links. He seemed to be failing on all counts. The elders would give him a few days to grieve his brother, but that amnesty would not last forever. “I’ll send Vina over with some willow tea in a while. If you were sensible, Nephew, you would consider Chief Fane’s request to wed his daughter before midsummer. We worked too hard to achieve that alliance for it all to fall apart now.”
He lifted his head up from his bedding and glowered at me. “I know you mean well, Aunt, but don’t meddle in affairs you don’t understand.” His expression was fierce, his tone of voice sharp and
hurtful. It shocked me. I hurried away from his hut, holding back the tears. He seldom spoke to me in such a terse manner. Why was this such a raw topic to discuss?
Every tribal Chieftain was expected to take a bride to secure relations with our allies. Tallack’s binding should be no different. His father’s wedding with Cryda, brought a long-lasting peace between us and the Cantii at the far end of the channel. Why should he be spared from doing his duty? My own past came back momentarily to check my judgement. Had I not done the very same thing when presented with a forced marriage during Cador’s reign?
I tried to avoid Vina on my return to our house. I didn’t want her to see the emotions welling up inside me. As it happened, she was fending off an emotional situation herself. While she stood outside the Long Hut in the middle of the island watching the fire smoke, some of the compound children gathered around her, jeering and spitting at her feet.
In response, she’d chased them away but I could tell that she was upset. Everyone knew that spitting at the feet of enemies was a Duro custom. To have it targeted back at her must have been the highest insult. Our tribe would take a long time to forgive the Duros for their killing sprees and attacks on our compound over the many generations. She folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself for comfort while she dashed into my hut.
I should have gone after her, given her the benefit of my wisdom, tended to her homesick heart, but I too was wounded. My chest was crushed by Tallack’s words. Instead of going home, I went back to see Ren. He was up and about, tidying his hut and sharpening his blades. It was good to see him with colour in his cheeks. He saw me through the open door and began pouring me a cup of ale before I’d set foot in the place.
We sat and drank his beer for half the evening before hunger called me home. Ren offered to find me something to eat, but I knew that he was not strong enough to go hunting just for me. I’d avoided it for long enough. I had to sort out the grudge between my two young friends. My head spun a little when the cooler evening air hit me outside. My first attempt to mount the boardwalk resulted in a misstep that sent me tumbling along the ground. Nursing a bashed head, I righted myself quickly and peered about to see if I was spotted losing my dignity. I think I got away with it, although you can never be sure who is watching about camp.