by N. M. Browne
‘Ah! Boar Skull and Bear Sark. You have found food I see. I have spoken with Hane and we agree it would be good for you to train with “Macsen’s men”, the ones from other tribes Macsen invited to learn Raven techniques under Hane. It will be tough for you. Usually our lads start at Bryn’s age, but you will have to pick up what you can. The best men haven’t come. Macsen will be very disappointed. I fear no true warrior of the Combrogi will admit he ever has anything to learn.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Anyway we of Alavna will train alongside the others of our tribe, who will obey Macsen whether they like it or not, and you will learn how to use that sword of yours the right way.’ Dan got the distinct impression that Kai was looking after them. He looked embarrassed and would not look at them directly. ‘I will be blunt. Not all the warriors we have been sent are of the best quality, there’s more than one troublemaker among them. It may be hard for you. If the Cup of Belonging had allowed you to share an understanding of our ways it might have been easier but it didn’t. You are very old not to be warriors of the blood. Some of the younger men resent The Bear Sark’s reputation. They will know that you, Boar Skull, did not fight the Ravens by our side. They will not make it comfortable for you. You will sleep in barracks with the others. I will help if you are in fear of your life, but for the rest you must cope as you best can.’ He looked at Ursula. ‘Boar Skull, I think your brother hears you even in his Bear Sark mood. Keep him from killing our allies if you can. I don’t trust them and there are a few I could name whose skulls would better decorate the gatepost than their necks but still we are bound by ties of hospitality. I would not shame Prince Macsen by having Combrogi blood shed within these walls. We are to meet in the courtyard. May the Goddess keep you. I fear you will have need of her kinder face.’ Kai’s grin was broad enough but he was clearly worried.
It did not take very long to see why. Six warriors had travelled eight nights in all to bring Ursula and Dan to Craigwen. Nobody believed they were worth it, and everybody set out to prove it. Hane was the embodiment of every mean-spirited drill sergeant cliché that ever breathed on celluloid except that he was broader even than Kai and real.
Ursula was not very fit. Every one of the men there, whatever Kai’s opinion of them, had trained as a warrior from the age of eight. They may not have used a gym to weight train, but their every muscle was as hard as endless exercise and a rich diet could make it. They were nearly all tall too. It was not hard to identify the troublemakers of whom Kai had so kindly but awkwardly warned them. The biggest was the smallest man, Huw, the Prince’s cousin.
Ursula had avoided every games lesson she could for the past four years. She was probably a stone or two overweight, even taking into account the natural puppy fat a girl of her age ought to carry. It was not going to be easy. She gritted her teeth and focused on what she had to do. What she had to do was ignore the almost continual jibes of the men round her. She had to ignore the pain. She had to force her body to obey her sullen will. She made a mess of every exercise. She dropped her practice sword at regular intervals. She failed to do a single press-up.
‘Come on then, outlander! Show us what you’ve got. My ma’s mule’s got more balance than that. If you were the best, by Lugh, I’m glad I don’t have to meet the rest.’
It was like school only worse. This time her attackers were each of them capable of killing her as easily as they might wring the neck of a rabbit for the pot. Huw was particularly vicious. He was furious that his father had sent him to be trained further and his anger had to find an outlet. With an unerring instinct for the weakest in the pack, he chose endless bullying as his outlet and Ursula as his target. His whispered insults were in her ear for the whole of that first day. In the first hour of training she missed home so desperately. If will alone could have raised the Veil, she would have done it. After the second hour she had begun to distance the pain in her body from her mind. By the third hour, when she was bathed in sweat and even Hane glowed with a hint of dampness, her arms seemed to belong to someone else except for the pain in them which was definitely hers. She kept lifting her sword above her head and counting to fifty, jumping and leaping and twisting as she was bidden. She ignored the men around her, apart from Hane who was issuing orders. She concentrated only on doing as she was told. Exhaustion seemed to break down her natural resistance to the power she had sensed since the moment she had walked through the mist. She felt a tingling in her spine, like pins and needles, travelling up her back and making her scalp prickle. ‘Give me strength,’ she prayed. ‘Don’t let me cry or fall over or let myself down.’ The mockery had subsided a little as Hane had them all doing exercises that were new even to the Combrogi. Ursula hung on and found a little bit more strength, a little bit more of the sap-like energy of spring. It might have been her imagination but if it was she didn’t care. Something kept her upright; something allowed her to keep moving. She did not want to give Hane, Huw and the other brutes more to mock than she had to.
Dan found the first day’s training little more comfortable than Ursula. He was fit, but only by the standards of a twenty-first-century schoolboy. By the standards of the Combrogi he had a long way to go. The exercises were not as unfamiliar to him as to Ursula, but battle used different muscles from football. His upper body strength was pitiful. It was a testament to the power of his madness that he had ever managed to wield Bright Killer for so long in battle. He spent much of the first day’s training being surprised: he was surprised that everyone else bar Ursula was so much fitter than he was. He was surprised that even the ancient Celts did press-ups, he was surprised that his approximation of a man-like grip on Bright Killer was completely wrong. The Combrogi did not grip their swords with their whole hand. Hane had to show him several times before he got it right. It immediately improved his control of his sword, if not his effectiveness at waving it round his head, jumping over it or doing any number of the manoeuvres that Hane set them. He was not sorry when the first day’s training ended and he could crawl into the barracks and sleep.
The barracks was another story. It was a long wooden cabin with open unglazed windows, covered with wooden shutters. There was a central fire that smoked all night and kept the air thick with acrid woodsmoke. There was a dirt floor. The men slept in their cloaks on wooden pallets, arranged in two rows on either side of the room. It was draughty, damp and smelly. The only light came from the fire. As the Combrogi were capable of building from stone and even had the underfloor heating favoured by the Romans in the Great Hall, Ursula could see no purpose to the discomfort. By the end of the day she was too tired even to complain.
She would have preferred to sleep as she had on the road, close enough to Dan and Braveheart and Bryn to share their warmth, and to feel the comfort of another living thing close by in the loneliness of the unfamiliar world. Instead she slept on her pallet, next to Dan. More than once she found faeces on her pallet and once the flayed carcass of a rabbit. She was not the kind to complain and she tried not to let Dan see what was going on. It was bad enough being an outcast in her own world without adding to the ignominy by proving she was an outcast in this world too. Dan still had Braveheart with him and slept with his arm around the great hound’s neck. Ursula was pleased that he had not had to join the pack of dogs that slept near the stables. Prys said it was because his unusual size made it difficult for the other dogs to accept him. She completely sympathised and made more of an effort to befriend Braveheart. Not that it mattered; he was too clearly Dan’s dog. Bryn slept on Dan’s other side and helped him dress and generally looked after him. Ursula tried not to mind.
She ate what was offered in the Hall. She drank watered ale, which was disgusting, but quenched her thirst. At night she slept the sleep of the almost dead. The first night she did not believe she was capable of doing any of it again the next day. She was, of course, given no choice. At least she had no more precognitive dreams, or none that she remembered. She dreamed instead that she lay cradled within the earth itself. It yielded to
her aching body as if it were a bed of the softest down and gave her restorative warmth and comfort.
Chapter Fourteen
By the third day the Combrogi themselves were in rebellion. Not of course at the living conditions. Ursula had learnt that the barracks followed the model of most of the village homes. No, the Combrogi rebelled at the manner and type of training Hane and their loyalty to Macsen obliged them to undergo. Macsen believed that the traditional Combrogi tactic of raining spears and stones down on the enemy and then charging forward en masse to engage in single combat was ineffective against the Ravens’ highly trained fighting force. He wanted them to fight as an army. He wanted them to fight like their enemy. More than that Hane was busily acting like the enemy, insulting them at every turn.
‘A Raven soldier could spear you at ten paces and have you on a spit like a sucking pig, if you make that mistake too often.’
‘Hold your shield higher, man, do you not know the meaning of “up”? It is where you will not fall when kicked off these battlements.’ Gwyn found it particularly difficult to tolerate this approach as he was Macsen’s champion. He had apparently saved Macsen’s life in battle and would fight first against an enemy if single combat were called for. It was a status of which both Ursula and Dan had been unaware.
After the first day Dan, having less to unlearn than the warriors, found it physically taxing but relatively simple to do what Hane asked of him. He concentrated hard and even received grudging praise from Hane. His easy manner and evident skill kept him out of trouble with the others. Ursula found it much harder, but as her strength grew so did her skill. She partnered Dan, who was patient with her. No one else but the comrades of Alavna would even look at her unless it was to trip her up or catch her a hard blow across the back of her legs with the flat of their swords.
It was after Hane had been particularly scathing about Gwyn’s footwork that Gwyn finally exploded. ‘This is Raven training. It demeans us to use their ways.’
Hane was no fool and he needed to show Macsen some tangible result of his training methods or he would lose the Prince’s support. Without Macsen’s support the warriors he so enthusiastically humiliated would tear him limb from limb. Hane smiled a mirthless, charmless smile.
He spoke in a gentle voice.
‘Gwyn, if you doubt my methods, I will show you the exact extent of your vulnerability. If you do not work as a team the very weakest of the enemy can overpower you if they work as a unit. I’ll prove it with the outlanders.’
Ursula felt herself blush. She needed no precognition to know that this could not end well. Dan didn’t want to meet Gwyn’s eyes.
Gwyn swaggered towards them. He laid down his wooden weapon and picked up his own sword. Dan took up Bright Killer, never more than a footfall away. Ursula picked up her own weapon. She was sweating so profusely that it slithered in her hand. Her heart raced. She knew what Gwyn was going to do. Gwyn knew more about Dan than Hane. Gwyn had observed him turn berserker to defend Ursula in the battle of the dragon. He had seen how Dan was prepared to defend Bryn on the road to Alavna. Gwyn had the measure of Dan. Ursula was not even sure Hane knew that Dan was a true bear sark and not just nicknamed ‘The Bear Sark’. The fortress was full of such names.
She could see that Gwyn was envious of Dan’s reputation, he wanted to prove that he was still Macsen’s champion even against a berserker. All Gwyn had to do was threaten Ursula. Concern for his friends was the major trigger for Dan’s madness.
Whoever won this, it was not about to be a test of team techniques against the glory route of single combat. This was single combat on Gwyn’s terms. If it made Hane look foolish all the better.
Ursula knew the strategy would work. When she looked at Dan she could see his madness, curled like a cobra, feigning sleep, ready to strike. Could she hold Dan back from it as Kai believed? She was by no means sure.
Although no one on earth could have persuaded the Combrogi away from the long sharp-sided swords they had always used in favour of the Ravens’ short stabbing gladius, Hane had insisted they act defensively as a team, each member protecting the other. As long as you remembered to give your partner room to swing his long sword or launch his spear such a tactic did leave you less exposed than usual to an enemy weapon. Combrogi lines could never be as tight and as strong as the Ravens’. The Combrogi needed so much more room to fight but it was one step in a new direction. Ursula took up the defensive position, protecting Dan’s right side. Gwyn faced them, an irritating smile on his face.
‘If you try to attack the man on your right, see how his partner can block you and then launch his own attack,’ Hane called out, oblivious to what was going on here.
Predictably Gwyn ignored both Hane and Dan and launched straight into an attack on Ursula. She blocked the first thrust of his sword by luck alone. She heard Braveheart growling in the background. She saw the second blow coming for her unprotected side and … suddenly Dan had dropped his shield and was there. She stepped behind him. Her shield would only interfere with his freedom of movement. Hane was bellowing for them to stop, that the exercise should not be done that way. The Combrogi ignored him as thoroughly as Gwyn had. The men were yelling at each other and taking bets.
Ursula did not know which way she would bet. Gwyn was experienced, taller and massively strong. Dan was so quick but nowhere near as strong. She willed strength into his right arm and felt the strange humming tingle that had always accompanied Rhonwen’s use of magic. She did not know if it made any difference.
It was Dan’s speed that was remarkable. When berserk he was totally fearless of course and did not burden himself with any thought of defensive strategy, but more than that, time seemed to slow down for him. Gwyn’s moves were swift and practised but there seemed no gap between thought and action when Dan fought. Gwyn raised his sword to deliver a crippling blow to Dan’s unprotected shoulder. Gwyn used his shield to protect his own exposed side. As he reached to deliver his blow Dan switched his sword to his left hand and sliced under Gwyn’s raised arm. Had Bright Killer had a point Dan would have stabbed him. As it was the slice was more debilitating. Gwyn dropped his sword and his guard. In the time it took Ursula to exhale Dan had Bright Killer at Gwyn’s neck. The shouts of the men were suddenly silenced. The assembled warriors waited.
‘No!’ Ursula’s voice was loud and clear. Dan would hear her. ‘This is Gwyn of Alavna. You will not kill him.’ The cold light of certainty died in Dan’s eyes. He seemed to return to himself.
‘Lay Bright Killer down.’ Ursula kept her voice low but commanding. Dan did as she ordered. Ursula fought the urge to hug Dan. He had saved her life again. Gwyn would have had no scruple about injuring her very seriously, to prove his supremacy. She did not think he would have killed her outright, but in a world without antibiotics, it might have amounted to the same thing.
Hane endeavoured to take control. He sounded shaky. He had seriously underestimated both Gwyn and Dan. He had foolishly expected Gwyn to attack by the book and Ursula and Dan to neatly turn the attack aside. He had not expected this near fatal encounter.
‘We will overlook this breach of discipline. We will break now and resume when I bang the gong.’
Gwyn struggled to his feet and bowed stiffly in Dan’s direction. His eyes burned with some powerful emotion. Ursula hoped it wasn’t hate.
‘Are you OK?’ Ursula asked Dan softly.
‘I turned berserker, didn’t I? Did I kill anyone?’
Ursula had a firm but unexamined conviction that Dan should face up to his Bear Sark nature. She had perhaps watched too many daytime chat shows about ‘learning to forgive yourself’ and ‘confronting your dark side’. Whatever the reason, she was not prepared to let Dan sink into voluntary amnesia.
‘You know what you did, Dan, think about it.’
Dan wrinkled his face.
‘I injured Gwyn under his sword arm. His shield was in the wrong place. I switched sword arms. I can play tennis with either hand, I su
ppose it’s the same. You stopped me killing him. I heard your voice in my mind like a rod of heat melting the ice. I did what you said. I don’t know how I heard you. I didn’t hear anything else.’
‘You went bear sark very fast,’ said Ursula, changing the subject. Did he read her mind? Or did she speak to his?
‘It’s quicker each time, like a gear I kind of slip into. You were right, it hasn’t gone away.’
His feelings about his madness were decidedly more ambivalent now. At least it was keeping them alive.
‘Thank you for stopping me from killing Gwyn.’
‘Thank you for stopping Gwyn from killing me.’
They grinned at each other.
‘Ursula, did you try to help me in any way?’
‘No, I got out of your way I thought …’
‘No, I mean did you, this sounds stupid, did you try any, any magic?’
Ursula felt herself blush again.
‘I thought … I mean I wanted to help and Gwyn is bigger than you and I … kind of wanted to send you strength. I know it’s so fantastic and unlikely that I could …’
Dan silenced her when he showed her Bright Killer. The imprint of his fingers was buried deep into the metal, as if the hilt had been made of wet clay.
‘Next time, not quite so much, eh?’
Ursula felt cold. It was true then. Something strange was happening here. Unless she too was mad and imagining this extraordinary scenario, in this world she could perform magic.
Chapter Fifteen
The men treated Dan with new respect as a man among men, not as a promising boy. They treated Ursula with decidedly more caution. They didn’t seem to like her any more than they had before. She did not have the knack of being liked, but as a man who commanded the man who bested Macsen’s champion she had a kind of status. The small presents left in her bed ceased. Huw kept his distance. Needless to say Ursula resented it. She did not want to survive only in Dan’s reflected glory.