by Griff Hosker
I was about to turn away in disgust when I suddenly thought that the nails and shoes might be useful. We wore shoes made of leather and fur but they were not very serviceable and needed repairing frequently. I took a selection of shoes and nails, enough for the family and put them in the sack. I saw that there were still six mounds. I would return. This was just the start. I hid in the woods and watched my brothers who were still using their slings. I found a hollow beneath an oak tree and covered the sack with a pile of loose leaves. It sounds silly now, after all the intervening events, but I did not want to take back some shoes and nails and claim it was a treasure. I wanted to come back triumphantly, with weapons and arms.
When we returned to the settlement the men were gathered around my father’s fire. I was going to join them but a quick shake of my father’s head told me that I was not welcome. Ruefully I realised that I was not yet a man. When I had a beard then I would be able to join them. The two mothers were busy with the babies and so I took my bow and went to practise. I had three arrows I used for practice. They were my first attempts at fletching and they were not the best. I reasoned that, if I could loose these effectively then the better arrows would be even more accurate when I used them. I used the stump of a lightening struck tree as my target. It was about man size and I had worked myself progressively further away to improve my accuracy. I was so accurate now that I could imagine that this tree was a man and I chose where to hit him. He was an Angle; the enemy. Nine times out of ten I hit where I aimed; even at sixty paces; smack between the eyes. Further away than that and it was luck which took over. I knew, from my father, that I needed a longer bow and greater strength to make my arrows go further. But I knew that day would come. I had been marking, with a piece of charcoal, my height on the doorway to the hut and I had grown by two hand spans in the last year. I was almost as tall as my father but his broad shoulders and muscled arms made me look like a girl, however I was becoming bigger and stronger each day.
While we ate my mother asked my father what had been discussed. “It seems we have a king, or at least we did have, for Cynfarch Oer, had died, or been killed by the Angles and his son Urien Rheged is now king.”
My mother cooed at my sister and asked, “Well what has that to do with us?”
“It seems he wants us to be prepared to fight the Angles. He is visiting his lands to find out how many warriors he has.”
Mother snorted,”His lands! I do not see him guarding the flocks or repairing the hut or tending the fields. His land indeed!”
Monca had learned my mother’s ways and she and my father smiled at her outburst. “It seems to me that it matters not who claims the land so long as we are left in peace and, if this Urien wishes to defend this land then I can at least help him.” Mother did not look convinced. “What is the alternative? Do as the people of Monca’s settlement did and wait for them to come and kill us?” My mother had no answer to this so she ignored the question and carried on feeding my sister who seemed to make more noise than our pig when he ate. “We are going to try to make some weapons. Spears probably.”
My ears pricked up. This was more my kind of talk. “Who will make them?”
The three adults all flashed me a look. We normally sat in silence at meal times and listened. I almost regretted my outburst until I saw my father smile and reach over to ruffle my hair. “Arden has some skill with iron. We are going to build a fire to melt the iron.” He pointed to the hills to the west. “There is iron in those hills. We have the winter to make them.” He shrugged at the snort from my mother. “We have time enough in the winter and working the forge will keep us warm, eh lads?”
I was delighted to be included. Last winter I had made a bow and arrows; this winter looked to be even more interesting with the prospect of making real weapons. Of course I would still try to reach the other weapons, which I knew must be in the fort and I would return a conquering hero.
I had my next chance when we took our flock for the last time before winter set in and the conditions became too harsh. I left the two boys with the flock and Wolf; they were more than capable of protecting them. Raibeart was suspicious but I told him I would be hunting and my glare threatened another blow about the ears. He was quickly cowed and I left for the fort. Vindonnus was with me that day for he brought me a young doe as soon as I started hunting; I knew he had brought her for she had an injured leg and would not survive the winter. She was an easy kill and I took my stone knife out to remove her entrails and to take a bite out of her still warm heart. I felt her strength go into my body and I left the rest of the heart for Vindonnus. I hung the beast in a tree; I would reclaim her on the way back. I took the liver with me to placate Icaunus, the river god. Perhaps when I had crossed the bridge the last time without making an offering I had displeased the god and had been punished with such a paltry haul. I would remedy the situation this time. I dropped the liver into the water and said a short prayer of thanks to the god for allowing me across the bridge.
I did not know if the offering worked but I felt much happier as I crossed the bridge to find the fort still deserted. Perhaps I had done the right thing; I looked at the mounds and one called to me. It was the smallest of the mounds but I dug anyway. This time I knew what to expect and I retrieved the chest much more quickly. This time, however, the box broke as it cleared the soil and the contents spilled out. I could not believe my fortune and I held my breath as I saw the glint of metal in the soil. I reverently cleared away the dirt. The metal I had found was a sword. It was as long as my arm and had come free from the oiled cloth in which it had lain. There were a couple of spots of rust but otherwise it looked as though it had just been placed there. I put it to one side and took out the other wrapped parcels. There were four swords and eight daggers. It was a mighty haul. I wrapped them up again in their cloth. I was about to carry them across the river when I saw another bundle in the soil. It had obviously fallen from the bottom of the chest. It felt heavier than any of the swords and I wondered what it could be. As I unwrapped it, I said a silent prayer to Icaunus for it was a shirt of mail. There were a couple of links missing and it had more rust than the swords but it was a mail shirt. I quickly wrapped it and fled back across the bridge, peering fearfully over my shoulder in case I had been seen. I buried it with the caligae and then went back for the swords and daggers. They were too heavy to take back to our home and I chose a sword and three daggers. They would make a suitable present and then I would reveal the others to my father. I would be a hero!
The doe and the weapons were heavier than I had thought but I made it to the flock before dark. Aelle and Raibeart were impressed by the doe but when I showed them the weapons they almost soiled themselves with joy.
“Where did you get them?”
“Can I have one?”
“Never mind where I found them and father will decide who has them. Now you two, carry the doe and we will return home. Say nothing about the weapons. That is my honour!” The boys were quite happy to do as I instructed and Wolf happily chivvied the sheep along.
When we reached the hut my father was outside the hut with the forge they were building. I could see that they had almost finished building it and, when the clay was dry it would be ready for its first firing. My father had said that the iron we could produce here would not be of a high standard but at least we could make crude weapons with which to defend ourselves. He left the forge and strode over to meet us. “What is that you have in your hands Lann?”
I was so proud as I opened the cloth and displayed the weapons. I was disappointed with my father’s reaction. His face darkened. “What is wrong father?”
“Where did you get these?”
I could see that he was angry for he was normally peaceful and it was my mother who chastised us. The look on his face did not bode well. I did something I had never done before. I lied. “I found them in the woods when I was hunting the deer.” I pointed to the dead animal being carried by my brothers.
He
seemed relieved. “Good I thought that you had stolen them, or even worse, taken them from the Roman fort.”
My heart sank down to my feet. Now I could not tell the truth, my father would think badly of me and I could not bear that. “What is wrong with the Roman fort?”
“There are weapons buried there but they are cursed by the Romans who buried them. My grandfather told me that. They were to lie there until the Romans needed them again.”
“But the Romans are gone. They will not return. You told me so. And we need the weapons.”
He shook his head. “It does not matter the curse is there for ever.” Then he smiled. “But it matters not for these were from the woods and the curse will be on the one who took them.” As he examined the sword I furtively clutched at the stone charm I wore around my neck. It had been my grandmother’s and I had been told it protected me from evil. Now I needed that protection.
My father swung the sword. “This is a fine sword. It has a good balance. It is too big for you just yet so I will use it, if you are in agreement with that?”
I forced a smile and mumbled, “Of course.”
The boys had deposited the doe outside the hut and now stood expectantly looking at the daggers. “And now I wonder who shall have these?” They were all the same design, I later found out that they were pugeo, a Roman military dagger, but one had no sign of rust at all and my father handed that to me. “As the finder the best goes to you my son. And you two can have these but you must make them as shiny as Lann’s.”After he had handed them to the boys he put his huge arms around them. “And tomorrow we shall sharpen them but tonight we have the meal provided by Lann to prepare.”
The normal pride I would have had at the praise was dissipated by the knowledge that I was cursed. The weapons I had cached would have to stay hidden. I dared not bring them forth. My dreams of glory were reduced to ashes. I had a dagger with which to fight the Angles. What kind of hero would I be?
Chapter 2
Hen Ogledd 577
I had wondered for the last couple of years if I was cursed. Nothing bad had happened to me in the intervening years. I did not sprout another leg nor did my face break out in some plague. I was not whisked away by a wight and the Angles did not come. But I still worried; I new that Wyrd had a long memory. For the last year I had regularly visited my cache of weapons. I had tried on the mail and found that it almost fitted me. Thanks to the forge I now understood metals a little better and I had fashioned a couple of crude rings to replace the damaged ones. I was desperate to sharpen the swords and daggers I had hidden but knew that I daren’t. My secret seemed to grow larger each time I visited my secret dell. The boys loved their daggers and it seemed to make me more of a hero in their eyes. Father too practised with his sword each day although he had no one with whom to practise. I still exercised with my bow each morning and evening and I now had a longer, man sized bow. I had learned to make my own arrows and I had secretly melted down some of the nails I had found to make better arrows than the ones I had. No-one seemed to notice and I hoped that my arrows were not cursed too.
It was just before the time we took the flocks out to the pasture again when the king came. Of course we knew not who the king was then but we were soon informed of the fact. One of the other boys was watching from the ramparts and he raced down shouting to us. “Horsemen! Horsemen appear!”
Although we did not think it was Angles, for they fought on foot, it did not pay to be careless and the men armed themselves with their crude weapons. My father had his sword and a spear while other men had spears and axes. I stood next to my father with my bow strung. The ten horsemen rode through the gate from the west. They all wore mail and I noticed that it looked identical to my mail shirt. Their helmets looked like metal caps with two cheek pieces and a guard at the rear. They each held a spear and carried a shield. The second man carried a standard which flowed in the wind and made a strange howling noise which caused my sisters to hide behind their mothers, I later found out it was a standard from the times of the Romans and warriors who had fought on the wall called, Sarmatians.
The leader reined in his mount and dismounted, he handed his helmet which had a long red crest upon the top to one of his warriors and approached the men with a smile on his face and his hand held out palm uppermost. It was the sign of peace. “I am Urien Rheged and some people call me king of this land.” This was the first time I met him and I fell under his spell immediately. He looked to be older than my father had been but something about him made him appear younger; it is hard to explain but the king seemed magical even on that first visit. He had a fine red beard and moustaches but it was his eyes which you noticed; they were a green which seemed to sparkle and shine. You felt as though he was looking only at you and you were the most important person in the room. “I am visiting those parts of the kingdom which are, as yet, free from attack.”
My father stepped forwards. No one else had had the temerity to grasp the proffered hand but my father did. “I am Hogan of Stanwyck and this is my family.”
He waved to include us and we bobbed, bowed or just gave an awkward smile according to whatever thoughts ran through our minds. How do you address a king?
“Are these your entire people headman?”
The king obviously thought my father was a chief but he shook his head vehemently in denial. “No, we merely share this old hill fort for protection. We are our own men.”
“Good. It is what I have heard. And what will you do when the Angles come?”
“We will fight.”
He looked at the weapons as did his men. I noticed looks of derision and pity from some of his men but not the king who merely nodded. “They are a start but you will need more.” He gestured behind him.”Bladud, bring me your shield.”
Bladud rested his standard next to his horse and brought over his shield. Bladud was even bigger than my father and his feet had almost touched the ground when on his horse. He handed the shield to the king. “If you are to fight the Angles then you need to make these.” He turned it over so that the men, who had all gathered around, could see. “There is a handle here and a hollow for your hand.” He turned it over. “Your hand is protected by this piece of metal and you can use it to hit your enemy with. The shield is made of thin boards glued together and covered in leather. If you make them and learn to use them well then you have more chance of surviving when the Saxons do come.”
The man called Bladud, who carried the dragon, gave a snort and my mother stepped forwards her eyes angry, almost protruding from here face. “We will defend ourselves do not worry!”
Bladud looked bemused as he took the shield and went back to his horse. The king smiled. “I would arm your women Hogan for they are like she-bears.”
My father pointed to Monca. “She has suffered at the hands of the Angles once before but my sons and me will see that none suffer again.”
“This is what I wished to hear. When I have gathered more men I will return for I need warriors like you and your sons to fight in my army.” He looked suddenly serious. “The Saxons are coming. Aella, their king has reached the Dunum. When he has settled those lands he will head west and he will be here.”
My father looked beyond the king to the east. “When?”
“If you have another winter of peace then the White Christ will be smiling upon us. You have a good place to defend and I will return with my warriors next year for we could make a good fight here. Take care, Hogan of Stanwyck, for there will be dark times ahead but we shall prevail.” He turned to ride away and then halted, looking at the four entrances to the hill stronghold. “If I lived here I would block up all but one entrance and put a gate in the last one. If you bar it at night you will sleep easier and you might save yourselves from a surprise attack.”
They rode off and, surprisingly, I felt better. The men in the fort looked depressed but I had seen my first warrior and I wanted to be just like him. I determined to practise with my weapons all that I could. I to
ok to spending time in the woods with my sword. I had chosen the best one I could and taken a sharpening stone into the forest to hone it. My new found strength from the bow and my increased stature made it seem easy to wield although as I had never fought an opponent it was hard to determine how I would fare against an Angle. My father and I worked on his shield first. Alone, out of the men, he had heeded the king’s advice. It was not easy to cut the wood and to glue it. We found that mixing beer with vinegar and making a paste which, if applied when still wet, appeared to hold the wood together well. While we waited for it to dry my father said, “It is a shame the Romans are not still here. They made fine nails. They would have made the shield both stronger and able to withstand sword blows”
I saw a chance to bring some of the cache to the hill fort. “I could look in the river near to the Roman Bridge. You never know, some may have fallen in.”
He looked doubtful but finally nodded. “Do not waste too much time. We have other work we must do.”
Leaving my shield to dry I raced to the cache and, taking two handfuls, ran to the river. I dropped them in and picked them up again with river sand. I put them in my leather pouch and walked slowly back. “I found some, not many but they may serve.”
I felt really guilty when his face lit into a smile as wide as a sunset. “What a fine son I have raised. These will be perfect. Here, we will share them out equally.” He counted them into two piles and then hammered them around the edge of the leather bound shield. I noticed that the skin he used was the doe I had killed a couple of years earlier. Wyrd! He was a careful worker and he was methodical. He placed them evenly around before hammering them in. He retained eight long ones for the metal boss which we had yet to make. When mine was completed I couldn’t wait to try it out but my father shook his head. “There is no boss yet and the glue needs to harden fully. There are no enemies to fight yet eh son?”