Pagan Rage

by Sam Taw

  Kewri came in clutching the back legs of a rabbit. “Endelyn sent this for you by way of thanks.” He muttered, lifting the limp carcass under my nose.

  “That’s kind of her, but not necessary. We have plenty.”

  “I said that too, but Senara insisted that I take it. Something about there being more than they could cope with.” He sighed and slumped down on a stool by the fire.

  “You’ve patched things up with her then?”

  He pulled a face worthy of a sullen child. “No. She won’t have me back.”

  It was hard to feel sympathy for the giant. He’d strung two women along at the same time. He was lucky that Senara didn’t take offence and slice off a sensitive part of his body in revenge.

  When the moon was high over the palisade walls, Ren appeared at the door. “Meliora, you’d better come.”

  “What is it? Has something happened to the priestess?” I grabbed my cloak and scuttled after him.

  “She’s fine. It’s Blydh. He’s out of control.” Ren’s great strides were hard to match. He was practically at the Long Hut door before I’d left my house.

  “Where’s Tallack? Isn’t he back yet?”

  Ren shook his head. “No.” He stopped and waited for me to catch up.

  “What about their mother?” I puffed, sending clouds of steam into the night air from my lungs.

  “That’s why I fetched you. He’s screaming at Cryda now.”

  A vision flitted through my mind of the willowy Cryda, the babe Delen in her arms, fending off the dark spirit inside her son. What if Blydh mistook his mother for the priestess and decided to punish her all over again? In a blind panic, I hurried into the Long Hut, frightened by what I’d find.

  Cryda sat in her usual seat at the top table, with Blydh lounging in his brother’s carved tall chair. She was without her child, which was a blessing, although I thought her presence might snap my nephew out of his delusions. Cryda looked petrified. Her slender hands gripped the arm of the tall chair while she pleaded with Blydh to be reasonable. At their feet lay a slave girl; her head turned unnaturally over her shoulder, her tongue lolling from her open mouth. A short distance from her body was the upturned mess of what looked like stew, strewn across the floor.

  I could guess what had happened. As much as it saddened me that a slave girl’s life was so expendable, the priority was to secure Cryda’s safety. In Tallack’s absence, there was no one else who could approach Blydh with any kind of status in the tribe. Knowing that my interference was likely to inflame matters, I had to deflect his ire away from his mother.

  “Ho there, Chief.” I moved with caution closer to the top table. He could definitely see my approach with his good eye; his lip curled as I drew near. Undeterred, I tried to keep my tone of voice light so as not to provoke him further. “Can I tempt you with some roasted rabbit or a little duck perhaps?”

  He twisted his head around to face me and snarled. “I want nothing from you. You’re just as likely to poison me as that kyjyan bitch, Brea did my father.”

  “Now, nephew, that’s not fair. I loved your father as well you know. What happened to Aebba was a tragedy. She will pay for what she did.” I stopped walking, making sure I was out of the reach of his arm and sword.

  Blydh scoffed. “That’s a joke. You and Brea were great friends, just like my kyjyan half-brother, who you let escape.” He grabbed his cup and drained the contents.

  I wanted to correct him, but figured that it would do no good to implicate poor Kewri further. He’d suffered enough for his mistake in accidentally setting Paega free. “We were all deceived by Brea, Chief, and we all feel Aebba’s loss keenly. Not least your poor mother.”

  Cryda took my cue and piped up. “I still haven’t laid his bones to rest.”

  “And nor shall you until Brea is made to pay for what she’s done, along with all her collaborators.” Blydh growled, turning his glare back to me. I’d succeeded in drawing his wrath away from Cryda, only to have him snap at me instead. As I backed away, he kept his scowl fixed in my direction. Cryda used the distraction to make her excuses and move to a seat with the elders’ wives further away. She was safe for now, but Blydh was likely to turn on anyone.

  Edging out of the rear door, I called out to the nearest slave. It was a grim task for them to bury one of their own, but someone had to dispose of the girl. There would be no grave goods nor blessing, just a hole next to the midden pile big enough for her crouched body. I waited near the roasting pits for them to retrieve her.

  She had dark skin. It reminded me of my Jago and the lurid way in which he was killed. Why were the lives of this girl and my slave worth nothing, when those born unto our tribe were deemed valuable? Were they not children of grieving parents? Were they not skilled in their own ways? Were their contributions to tribal life less important than our weavers, butchers or the smith? I shook my head in frustration.

  When the slaves had finished clearing up the mess in the Long Hut and refilled the ale jugs, I slipped back inside and sat as far away from the top table as I could, mingling with the elders and listening to their gripes. All the talk of Brea and the Duros had stirred up their emotions. How was I ever going to persuade them that a peace between our tribes was in all our interests? Most of them were too young to remember my brother, Cador the Cruel. Both he and his son, Aebba attempted treaties between our tribes and all for nought. The Duros continued to attack our borderlands and we theirs.

  Kewri and Ren joined me on the benches closest to the door. They poured themselves ale, but there was nothing to celebrate. We were down a significant amount of metal and ruled by a dark entity that was too powerful to be ousted by Endelyn’s ritual at the sacred springs. What foul deeds would this beast lead the men into in the name of protecting our people?

  Ren lowered his voice so that only we three could hear. “I must say, Meliora, there’s a certain justice in using the same plot that Brea cooked up with the Novantae against her.”

  “You’re assuming that it’ll work. We discovered the Novantae treachery before they could carry out their plans and look how that turned out for them.” I couldn’t stop my cynicism from leaking out of me. The sleep I’d had in Ren’s hut barely touched the surface of my exhaustion. Every moment of waiting for Tallack’s return, heighten my anxiety levels, keeping me jittery all evening. I peered about the Long Hut, noting the spaces on the warrior’s benches and that many of the elders had already returned home with their wives for the night. The entire place was abnormally quiet.

  Ren guessed what I was thinking. “The elders may not be able to stop Blydh’s disgraceful actions, but they can choose not to encourage him.”

  It hadn’t occurred to me until it was pointed out. There was no singing, no pipers blowing out a merry tune, no laughter nor tales of yore. A few of Blydh’s senior warriors remained, but I got the impression it was more to keep watch than to drink and carouse.

  “He’s lost their respect.” I muttered, thinking aloud.

  Ren and Kewri both nodded their agreement. Old Aebba the Wild would be mortified if he knew the depths to which his son had sunk. Both he and Cryda always assumed that Blydh would be the greatest leader of our tribe in generations. His solid, dependable form of brutality was tempered with reason and restraint. He only ever sliced heads off our enemies and only in retaliation for their crimes against our people and lands. This imitation of him was hard to swallow.

  I thought about the Duros’ demands in return for peace and quailed. “What are we to do?” I said out loud before realising.

  “The men told me that word was sent to the mines at Bentewyn before we set off for the sacred springs. The order was to bring more tin from their stores. If Kenver can ship more to us soon, it might be alright. There is a chance that the Duros’ will accept less.” Ren offered.

  I blew out my cheeks. “I wasn’t thinking about the demand for metal. That can always be found or beaten down to something reasonable.”

  Ren underst
ood the sticking point better than most. “You’ve got me there. It’s insurmountable.” We all watched as Blydh tried to goad his warriors into a wrestling match in front of the top table. They gave him awkward smiles in return, unsure how to refuse his request. Our warriors were not entertainers. To suggest that they should fight one another for sport was an insult. It pained me to witness my kin sink so low.

  When at last I spotted Tallack hovering in the doorway, I was greatly relieved. Struggling to my feet, I ambled over and took the small pot of resin from his hand. “Oh, thank Cernonnus. That will ease Endelyn’s pain and keep me stocked for a long time. Wherever did you find it?”

  “Don’t ask, Aunt Mel. I had to trade the weapons we took from the Belgae for that. I’m just glad I wasn’t carrying my special sword, or they would have taken that too.” I was humbled by his sacrifice. He’d clearly travelled the entire day and long past darkness to provide what I needed. He was shaping up to be a fine Chieftain, one we could all be proud to call our leader. “How is the priestess?” He wiped his cuff across his sweaty face, smearing the mud and filth from his journey.

  “Faring better than your brother.” I cocked my head in Blydh’s direction and sighed. Blydh was out of the tall chair and roaming around the empty benches, spilling ale wherever he went. I couldn’t put it off any longer. “Senara’s back from the crossing on the River Sid.”

  “Oh, what news did she bring?”

  Steadying myself, I knew that what I had to tell him would not be received well. “The Duro elders are amenable to a peace treaty, but their terms of agreement are harsh.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “Go on.”

  “Huge quantities of tin, an ongoing trade agreement that is frankly ridiculous… something along the lines of equal tin to copper exchange.”

  Tallack hissed. “They can shove that up their kyjyan arses for a start.”

  “Yeah, I think they are starting high but expecting to come down to something respectable later. That’s not the issue.”

  “Then what is?”

  “They have a plan to overthrow Brea with little bloodshed and they’ve made it clear to us that we’re not needed to bring this about. According to the scout, they’re happy to just kill her and be done with it.”

  “I see.”

  “The only way they will hand her over alive, is if we give them someone in return.” I couldn’t look him in the eye. My nerve failed me. I bit my lip until it hurt, hoping that he would comprehend the rest and save me from actually voicing the words.

  “And who had they in mind?”

  “They wish to punish the leader of our Head Hunter Clan; the man who has taken the lives of many of their people from the borderlands.” My eyes welled up. I sniffed back the drippings accumulating at the tip of my nose.

  Tallack drew a sharp breath. “You mean to say they want to swap Brea for Blydh? That is out of the question.” His voice rose beyond a whisper until he was rasping at me. I’d anticipated his response, but was not able to think of anything to offer in solution.

  “Well, I guess that’s the end of that idea. We can’t possibly forge a peace with the Duros under those conditions.”

  “Under what conditions?” Blydh said. I hadn’t noticed him looming up behind me and neither did Tallack. “Why would we want peace with the Duros?” He trained his good eye down on me. “What’s all this about, brother?” I wasn’t sure who was in charge of my nephew’s body. His voice was tempered; he sounded like the Blydh of old.

  “It’s nothing to bother about.” Tallack said, reaching out to Blydh’s shoulder and guiding him back into the centre of the Long Hut.

  Blydh shrugged him off. “No, tell me now. I have just as much right as you over tribal matters. What’s this about striking some deal?”

  Tallack took a long breath. “It was just something Aunt Mel and I were considering, but it didn’t work out. No harm done.”

  “You and Aunt Mel? Not me.” He slipped past Tallack and rounded on me near to the door. “The Duros are our sworn enemy. Just exactly what was this Duro spy suggesting?”

  “Brother, please.”

  “No! I want to hear it from her.” He shoved a finger into my chest, pushing me backwards towards the wall. “Tell me, Aunt Mel…” The way he sneered when he said my name made me shudder. “What precisely has that kyjyan bitch Brea asked you to do this time? Eh? Snake in the camp. What was it?”

  My head banged against the wall, knocking out some of the dried daub. His finger bruised my breastbone. “I am not Brea’s spy. I’m loyal to you and Tallack. Please, Blydh, we are kin.” I could see my pitiful reflection in the shine from his helmet. How could he think that I would betray our tribe?

  “You’re no kin of mine. You’re a snake. What was the plan, another fatal poisoning, maybe a leather strap fastened about my neck while I slept, or a blade across my throat?”

  “I promise you, none of those things. I would never harm you.” I shrieked as his finger became an insistent knuckle pressed to my chest, pinning me against the crumbling walls.

  “Ha!” He gestured to his glassy right eye. “What do you call this?” And when I said nothing, he tapped the rim of the helmet. “And this?”

  “You know full well, I did my best to treat you. Not even the blessing of Airmed at the springs could restore your sight.”

  He scoffed again. “Yeah right. The Blessing.” He sneered. “I wouldn’t mind betting the priestess is working for Brea too. You kyjyan women are all in it together. A whole camp of vipers.”

  Tallack tried to pull Blydh off me but he elbowed his brother in the face.

  “Stay out of this. I know how to deal with Duro spies.”

  Before I could escape, Blydh grabbed me around the throat with both hands and squeezed. His fingertips pressed into my windpipe, choking off the air. I scratched and clawed at him to make him release me but he was too strong. As his grasp tightened, cutting off the tubes in my neck, my eyes bulged. I could feel my feet lifting from the floor, the pressure on my spine increasing. Almost on tiptoes, I tried to plead for my life, but all that came out were guttural splutters.

  With lungs burning, I closed my eyes and waited for it all to be over. The light flickering inside extinguished, excepting that my time had come. I had earned my journey into the Underworld and hoped that some kind soul would pay Cernonnus for my admittance.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  My world went quiet. With arms limp and lifeless at my side, I felt my life draining away. I had no strength left in me to fight. Before the last moment with my tribe ebbed away, I saw Kewri; his expression passive, considered. He lifted the helm from Blydh’s head with one of his massive hands, and with the other balled up tightly, smashed his fist down on the golden disc inside Blydh’s skull.

  His scalp split open, the golden plate crumpled and pressed into his soft brain. Those angry fingers loosened from around my neck. His left eye twitched, his mouth fell open, and my nephew crashed to the ground. I took an enormous gasp of air, coughing until my spirit reconnected with my body. Blydh bumped and jerked a couple of times on the rushes and then lay still. No one moved. Tallack, Kewri and I stood over the corpse, expecting the warrior to jump to his feet. This was a man who’d survived against all odds. None of us believed he could die.

  Tallack was the first to realise the full enormity of what had occurred. He stooped down and rested his palm against Blydh’s face. “Sleep well, brother. Save a space for me.”

  That was when Cryda knew that her first born was gone forever. She howled louder than any wolf and rushed to his side. The more she wailed, the more hysterical she became, pounding Blydh’s solid chest in the hope that she could rouse him. Kewri let the helmet fall to the floor and bowed his head.

  “Seize him!” Cryda shrieked. “Men, protect your Chief.”

  Still no one moved, not even Tallack. All could see that Blydh had lost his battle against the evil inside him. Only his mother blamed Kewri for his swift actions.


  Between sobs, Cryda wailed the same thing over and over; “This is all Brea’s fault.”

  It felt wrong to leave her sprawled across the body of her son, but no amount of coaxing would persuade her to leave the Long Hut. Kewri sat back down next to Ren waiting for Tallack to proclaim his sentence. I was too stunned to move from the doorway.

  One by one, Blydh’s remaining warriors and the elders left through the rear door, leaving just us few. None dared to speak. We simply waited for Cryda to accept all that had happened. I looked down at my dead nephew. His eyes were each facing a different direction, but the fury in his brow had gone, taking the hatred and paranoia with it, and for the first time since that terrible night at the Duro camp, he looked serene and at peace. Whether he would walk with his forefathers in the Summerlands or take the journey into the Underworld, I could not say, but he was at last beyond the reach of his enemies.

  Cryda lay the blame on Brea. She was the root of all ails in our tribe since the day she poisoned the twin’s father. Now Cryda had two cherished family members to bury, while Brea still walked free. When the Long Hut fire burnt low and the torches sputtered and fizzed, Tallack dismissed us. He stayed by his mother and brother on the rushes as we left. I pushed the giant outside and chivvied him back to my hut. The poor lump was dazed and numb. He’d carried out the Chief’s orders to the bitter end, protecting me from any attacker. Neither of us knew what his fate would be for saving my life yet again. I tried to thank him but my words came out jumbled. He understood my meaning even if my speech went astray.

  I slept poorly that night. My throat pained me and I was too anxious to settle, so that by dawn, I was already up and about my business. Kewri slept not a wink at all. I heard him pacing about the rushes and banking up the fire until the moon was ready to dip below the horizon. He kept himself busy, doing all my chores outside and chopping more wood to stack under the eaves.

  As I was returning from checking on the priestess, Tallack caught up with me on the boardwalk. He couldn’t stop staring at the marks on my neck. They still hurt and my voice was reduced to a rasp, but I had nothing to complain about. I’d survived yet another brush with death, while a younger family member perished in my place. My emotions were so close to the surface I feared that I’d never stop crying if I set them free.