by Sam Taw
“Don’t be stupid. You’ll get yourself killed.” He yelled.
“He might need me.” I stopped dead in my tracks. Our Chief was standing in the clearing near to his hut at the heart of the chaos, shouting his orders to those who were unharmed to fetch water or dampen flames with earth and sand. It was just as well I’d spotted him in time, since the path narrowed a short way ahead and the houses on either side burned with ferocious intensity. Only a small gap existed through which I could see my nephew unharmed and coolly in charge, but my relief was short-lived.
A shadowy figure tumbled from the hut on the left, rolling on the singed grass to extinguish the flames licking his back and shoulders. His shape was unmistakable, his great hulking mass was like no other. Kewri stayed on the ground, curled into a ball. I could hear his whimpers above the shouting men, cracking wood and thundering hooves of the fleeing horses.
“He’s not moving.” I cried. “He needs to get away from there.”
Ren turned to see of whom I was speaking. Without a thought for his own safety, my friend dashed into the narrow gap, bending low and dodging the forked tongues of flames snaking out from the huts either side. He pushed Kewri over until he could latch onto his wrists, tugging and heaving with all his might to drag the giant away from further harm. When they were beyond the narrowing, I took one arm from Ren and dug my heels into the earth, lending my meagre weight to the task.
We pulled him on to the soft sand near to the river mouth and flipped him over. Even in that dim light, I could see the damage done. It took all my strength to hold in the tears. His hair had shrivelled to a matted mass on his scalp, his shoulders were blistered with pus filled sacks, but worst of all was his lower back. The seared and charred skin had sloughed off as we dragged him free. All that remained was the bloodied and weeping soft flesh and rendered fat from beneath. A massive flap of skin hung from the open wound, caked in dirt and debris.
I could barely contain my emotions as he lay there panting and murmuring through the pain. Every one of my senses pricked me alert, the familiar scent of roasted meats and the revulsion at my stomach’s response, the clamour of the turmoil filling my ears and the distraction from my duties, the cold breeze at my back and the warmth of the inferno on my face. I needed my mind to focus, yet I found myself spinning.
Ren sharpened my wits. “Shall I get river or sea water?” He shook me by the shoulder, as if he knew that I was struggling.
“What? Oh, sea water…and cloth, if you can find any.” I rummaged in my medicine kit and took out what willow I could find, ramming it into Kewri’s mouth and commanding him to chew. If ever there was a time for poppy resin this was it but my searches confirmed what I already knew. My stock was empty and there was no way to procure more.
Returning a short time later, Ren placed a pail of sea water at my side and offered up his own tunic for cloth. “Wouldn’t it be easier to drag him down the beach to the sea?”
It was an option, but I feared that the surging waves would do him more damage. Added to the fact that more and more survivors had staggered from the blaze to seek my help, I knew it was not feasible to spread my patients over a wide distance. “No, we’ll just have to make do right here.” I said, emptying my bag onto the ground. I’d seen and treated burns before, but never on this scale. When small patches were damaged, I could cut away the dead bits and the healthy sections would grow to replace them. That’s if it didn’t rot first.
Senara rushed to help, dropping her quiver and bow, she took her lead from Ren. He carried my balms and ointments, bandages and willow bark and set about pasting and binding those in need.
Kewri was a mess. I knew my efforts would give him more pain, but there was no other option. Sloshing sea water over the whole area, I gently teased and stretched the skin over the exposed flesh. The edges were brittle, flaking off in my hand. It was unlikely that stitches would hold the skin in place, yet what other choice did I have?
While Ren and Senara tended to the less severe burns of the other warriors, I contemplated my approach. Accuracy and neatness were unimportant. I had to act fast if I was to prevent the rot setting in and finishing him off.
Taking a few moments to sharpen my best bone needle on a rock, I threaded the soaked lengths of gut from my bag and began my work, hushing and calming my patient with comforting words as I anchored his missing skin back in place. Kewri bore the pain better than any I’ve ever known. He neither flinched nor cried out, but I could see his clenched jaw and his fists tighten every time my needle pierced his sore body.
When my labours were over, I struggled to my feet. Tallack’s men were laying out two more bodies by the side of the river. The first I could not recognise at all. His face was smashed in and charred, as though the roof timbers of his hut had fallen while he slept. I could tell from his clothing that he was one of the Head Hunter Clan.
The manner in which he died was a tragedy. It prevented him the honour of a place in the Summerlands with our Chieftains and warriors of old. Instead, he will pass through the earth and forever spend his days in the Underworld. At least it was a quick death and he would have not seen the end coming.
The second man was less fortunate. Most of his torso and limbs were blackened. Those carrying his body informed me that he’d run towards the river shrouded in flames, but failed to reach the water.
As the blaze raged along the valley, Tallack and his men were beaten back by the intense heat and futility of their efforts. Those who were able, lifted Kewri and carried him to the beach along with all that could be salvaged from camp. We were back where we had started but with many lives lost.
During the course of the night, the breeze dropped and the eerie glow in the sky lessened as the fires burned out. My back ached, my knees were bruised and my heart was heavy. I had all but exhausted my stocks of balms and pastes. Senara tried to forage for more herbs at dawn, but came back empty handed and desolate by mid-morning. In the end, the best I could offer to the wounded was damp sea weed wrappings and a rationed slice or two of willow.
Tallack sat facing the Phoenician vessel in the bay for a long time. His fine ship was all that he had left in terms of wealth or strategy, but he knew as well as I that Kenver could take it as his prize within days. All he had to do was to reduce our numbers until we could no longer defend ourselves. Maybe our Chief was thinking about jumping aboard and sailing away to far off lands, shirking all the responsibilities that were lumped upon his young shoulders.
Who could tell? I’d seen that look on my nephew’s face before. It was the same hopeless gaze he wore when his brother was at the height of his ailment; that sinking feeling as he resigned himself to fate. We no longer had the gods favour and there was nothing we could do to turn things around.
Our options were slim to non-existent. If we stayed much longer, Kenver would wipe out the rest of our warriors and all hopes of our family retaining power. If we boarded Tallack’s ship and collected his mother from the island on the Exe, we would spend our days fending off foreigners and pirates trying to take the vessel from us.
There was also a possibility that he was thinking about yielding to Kenver. It’s not something his father, or brother would have ever considered, but Tallack had a softer heart than others in our family. He took an interest in the lives of his men, rewarded loyalty and praised them for their efforts. At least he used to, until this last bitter campaign with Kitto’s attempts to oust him. For all I knew, our Chief was considering terms of surrender to save the lives of our remaining warriors in exchange for the Chieftaincy.
While Tallack languished in self-pity and despair, I had a job to do. Ren disappeared in search of food, Senara was fetching fresh water for the injured to drink, and Kewri’s moans had dulled to a whimper. One glance at the expressions on my patients’ faces told me that many were in great pain. I needed more goose grease, soothing herbs and willow bark. There was only one way to achieve that. I had to brave the wooded valley without my trusted giant.
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I rinsed myself off in the sea, gathered my things and slipped away. After Kenver’s threat of slaughtering us all, I didn’t want to put anyone else in greater danger than they were already. Alone, I stood a chance that he would take pity on an old woman and make my ending a quick one should I be caught.
The soot and ashes stuck to my wet pattens in great sticky clods. An acrid stench of hot charcoal filled my senses as the slightest waft of breeze floated the pale flakes of burned wood around me. It was a terrible sight. The hut where I’d found happiness after a lifetime of heartache was no more. What little remained of it, smouldered and crumbled when I passed by.
When I reached the worn track leading up the valley, I heard a shrill whistle coming from the marshy land on the opposite bank. I almost lost control over my bladder I was so startled. Spinning around, I squinted against the stark light of the morning. A slender figure was running towards me.
“Ho there! Where do you think you’re going?” I recognised the voice before I could see him with any degree of clarity. Ren was hurtling along the opposite bank in pursuit. I watched him hurry towards a crossing point comprised of a few unstable boulders lined up across the width of the river. He hopped and stepped between them as sure footed as a goat, holding his long bow out for balance. Panting and doubling over, he clutched his sides as though they pained him. I hardly thought it was necessary to explain where I was headed. With my foraging bag and one of his knives in hand it should have been obvious.
He looked at me for an answer as though he had the right to make demands of me. When I failed to respond he said, “You’re not going back up the valley after what happened last time.” His tone suggested that it was meant as an order, not a question.
I tutted at him and started walking once again.
“For the sake of Cernonnus, woman. You’ll get yourself killed.”
I was frightened of Kenver making good on his promise, but this new attitude of Ren’s irked me. Just because we shared a bunk for a few nights, did not give him the right to dictate what I could or couldn’t do, even though he had my safety uppermost in his mind. I scoffed and stomped along the path faster.
“By the gods, you are stubborn.” He snarled, traipsing after me.
I halted abruptly and turned on him, prodding his chest with a bony finger. “Why is it that when a man refuses to comply with a command, he is seen as someone with conviction, brave and forward thinking, whereas when a woman does the same thing, she is stubborn, idiotic and emotional?” My vehement glare bored into the black parts of his eyes until he glanced away. Maybe I am stubborn, but no one will alter me now. I am too long in the tooth to be shackled to the whims of a man, even one as honourable as Ren.
His mouth flapped but no words came out. I hurried away, determined to find all I needed to treat my patients. He had no other choice but to follow me, keeping his eyes trained on the shrubbery either side of the valley for signs of our foes.
“Don’t go too far ahead.” He moaned, hastening to catch up with me.
“Kenver will assume that we are all licking our wounds on the beach preparing to leave. If anything, now is the best time to forage.” I said, changing my course and darting into the undergrowth. I sliced a few edible leaves into my bag for later and directed Ren to a patch of tall reeds where Kewri and I had caught ducks before. He looked askance at me, but he knew that good meat, feathers and rendered fat were all in short supply.
The more plantain and moss I gathered, the more I allowed my mind to wander. Before long, I’d drifted into a kind of trance, picking, cutting and slicing roots and shoots until my back reminded me of my age. In a small clearing further up the slope, I spotted the bright yellow of mullein flowers. They lifted my heart to think that I could give the men teas and ointments of this wondrous plant to ward off the rot and ease their pain.
Scrambling up the loose soils, I slung my bag behind my back, tucked Ren’s knife into my belt and crawled on all fours closer to the luscious patch of this glorious herb. Rejoicing in my find, I set about plucking the tiny flowers from the tapered tip and then bent low to harvest the soft, downy leaves from the base.
That was when I heard Ren trying to get my attention from the valley floor with rasping noises. I glanced back over my shoulder to see him gesturing for me to stay low and hide. Dropping onto my belly, my pulse thumped in my ears until I was sweating with panic. Ren crept up alongside me, touched my shoulder and then pointed to a clump of bushes further up the slope. They were swaying and not from the mild breeze around us.
Ren moved his lips nearer to my head and whispered. “Stay here, we’ll either have a feast this night, or a dead miner on our hands.” With his bow held out and an arrow nocked, he sneaked closer to the source of movement. This time, no one could take us by surprise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Nausea swept bile into my gullet as I watched the man who meant the most to me in the world, creep towards danger. The rustling in the bushes ceased and within moments, a man appeared in the clearing. His eyes bulged with shock upon seeing the tip of an arrow so near to his face.
“Are you alone?” Ren growled at him, daring to pace even closer.
“Yes, yes, I am.” The man raised his palms in supplication.
Ren flicked the end of the bolt to his left. “Move.”
The pair of them scuffled and slipped on the loose earth until Ren was behind him and able to check the shrubbery.
“He’s telling the truth.” Ren said to me, while prodding his captive in the back. They scurried down the bank towards the valley floor. I followed with some caution, looking backwards every so often in case we’d missed more hiding Alchemists. When we were next to the river, Ren snatched the man’s heavy leather bag and a small knife from his belt. I took both eagerly, tucking the blade in my belt before crouching on the ground to examine the contents of the satchel. As soon as I lifted the flap I gasped. It was filled with ingots of pure tin and strips of the finest dried venison.
“Well, well. This will take some explaining.” Ren smiled.
“More importantly,” I said. My nose crumpled in puzzlement. “How did you make it this far along the valley without us seeing you? There are no mines in this area. They’re all in the gorge over yonder.”
The man looked down and scuffed his feet on the dusty trail. “Working mines, no, but there are abandoned tunnels.”
The smirk on the man’s face was too much for Ren to bear. His clan had beaten us at every turn. They’d killed and maimed, burned and impaled more of our warriors than could be recalled in a single sitting. Ren sucked in a great lungful of air, his anger rising with each passing moment. He let out a long mournful growl and pulled the bowstring taut ready to release a bolt right through the man’s chest. I couldn’t let our only source of useful information die before my eyes.
Forgoing my own safety, I stepped between Ren and the Alchemist. “Wait! Don’t kill him. I need to know more.”
Ren’s angry outburst wiped the grin from the man’s features. “Hey, I have no quarrel with the Chief, nor his family. Take the tin if you want. There’s plenty more where that came from.”
Ren lowered his aim a fraction and frowned. “Why would you betray the Alchemists?”
The man kept his hands aloft. “The way I see it is that we’re all Dumnonii, right?” He looked to me for confirmation. I nodded, encouraging him to continue. “As far as I can tell, your fight lies with Kenver and his kin or what’s left of them. Never did like that Kerensa. He won’t tell us what happened, but I’d bet my best knife that she was to blame.” He nodded towards the blade that I’d taken from him only moments before.
I had to hide a smirk of my own. Ren was less taken by this jolly fellow, thinking it all to be a distraction.
Softening to his earnest speech, I asked; “What name do you go by?”
“Nectan.” He kept his eyes focused on Ren as he encircled him with the arrow still nocked in his bow.
I gave him my sterne
st look. “And how is it that you came to be in this valley with a bag full of tin and enough dried meat to last more than a quarter moon?”
He stared at me for a long while. “I know you. You fixed up my lad after that cave in last winter.”
I couldn’t tell from his expression whether he was pleased or angry. He was stalling for time. Perhaps he hoped that his clan would rescue him or he’d find a way to escape. With Ren protecting me, I decided to give him some leeway. “Did your son mend well? I can’t recall seeing him afterward.”
“He did, well enough. I thank the gods often for sending you to us that day. Kenver banished him to work the northern mine with my other lad. That was Kerensa’s fault too, two-faced little kyjyan.” His voice grew quieter, his thumb brushed against his bottom lip. I thought he was going to recount the event that caused his son to be sent away but he took a long breath and sighed instead. “I um, can help you resolve this entire situation, if you’ll promise just two things.”
“If you can end this whole siege, my nephew is likely to grant you almost anything.” I blustered without thinking. After all my advice to the younger ones about holding your tongue and your nerve during negotiations, I had dropped my guard in an instant.
I caught Ren gently shaking his head in disbelief. “Let’s hear what he has to say first. It might be another trap. Kenver is fond of those and this man seems far too willing for my liking.” Ever the cautious one is my Ren.
Nectan stared at the bag of tin on the ground and then at Ren’s perpetual glare. “I think you should take me to Chief Tallack. I’m more than happy to discuss my proposition with him.”