The kill caused alarm and panic amongst the riders. They dismounted and attended to the fallen man. Armed only with spears, bucklers and axes, Dominic had no fear of any returned arrows from them. He glanced to where Murdoc and the child had hidden. Seeing nothing but the bracken pile, he was satisfied he had bought them time.
He watched as a fat, bearded man stooped over the corpse, then scanned the edges of the glade looking for the attacker. He began to bark orders to the others whilst pointing around the clearing.
Another movement caught his eye. What he saw filled him with concern. Murdoc had merely hidden and not made his escape. Now he knew the riders would capture and undoubtedly kill him and the child in retribution for their fallen companion.
Without hesitation, he cupped his hands to his mouth and let out a piercing wolf’s howl. Again, the men became rigid. He emitted a second howl, intent now on completely taking the men away from Murdoc and the child. Rapidly, he fitted another arrow and stood up, now in full view of the Saxon mob.
Before his bowstring had stopped singing, another man had fallen, causing the others to run for cover. The fat man was again to take charge. Pointing towards Dominic, he gave out another series of orders, angrily repeating them several times before his men retrieved and mounted their ponies.
Dominic ran to an area of thick undergrowth where he hoped he could confuse and outwit them. He vanished from view as soon as he entered the tangle of bushes. The Saxon ponies came quickly upon him but were reluctant to enter the mesh of shrubbery. The men came to a halt as they tried to coerce the ponies through.
Dominic could not see them, but he could guess their position from the noise their leader made as he roared out his guttural tone. Dominic flanked the Saxons and emerged back into the empty clearing. He ran over to Murdoc and the child.
Murdoc gave Dominic a look of complete astonishment whilst Ceola fixed him with a wide-eyed stare. Open mouthed, as Dominic stood before him, Murdoc could only mutter. ‘Dominic, by God, I thought you long dead … where have you come—’
Dominic pulled the bemused Briton to his feet, interrupting him mid-flow. He picked up Ceola. ‘Never mind me, we’ll all be dead if we don’t get out of here! Follow me!’
He ran, with Ceola bouncing on his shoulder, towards the edge of the glade. They continued into the gloomy forest, and though unburdened, Murdoc gasped as he struggled to keep pace with the fleet-footed Dominic. Behind them, shouts sounded as the Saxons emerged from the ensnaring shrubbery. Knowing they could not outrun the Saxon ponies, Dominic scanned the surrounding woodland looking for a place to hide. He noticed a huge tree that had fallen amidst a knot of vegetation. ‘Down here!’ he shouted.
The tree had left a deep basin where its roots had occupied the ground. Dominic jumped in and gently placed Ceola on the leaf-strewn bottom of the hollow. Murdoc quickly joined him. After a quick assessment, Dominic shook his head. ‘No good … this is no good, we need to cover ourselves.’
Seeing a fallen bough nearby, he jumped from the hollow and started to drag it back to the hollow. Dominic joined him and together they managed to heft the branch over the crater, completely covering and partially filling it.
They forced their way through the tangle to the floor of the hollow where Ceola lay curled up amongst the branches. Murdoc gathered her into his arms as Dominic struggled to fit an arrow to his bow. Stippled daylight played upon their faces as they waited in trepidation for the sounds of the chase.
Murdoc noticed that the hard life of the forest had etched a few more lines on Dominic’s scarred face, but his eyes, focused and determined, had not changed.
Dominic caught his glance and smiled bleakly. ‘If we get out of this, I’ll help you and your girl get back to your folks. ‘I’ll make—’
A pony snorted, stopping him abruptly. He silently instructed Murdoc and Ceola to lie flat; his wide-eyed, urgent look telling them to keep completely still. Ceola’s eyes squeezed shut as a tear ran down her grimy face, creating a white tracery on her cheek. It was not lost on Dominic. Stay still; please stay still, was his silent plea to her.
Above them, the hunters had split, but one now searched close to them—so close they could hear his laboured breathing.
Dominic rolled onto his side, squinting to see through the branches above. He tensioned his bow; ready to release if needs must. The bushes above rustled, but a summoning shout from distance stopped the searcher sharply. The man withdrew from the tree and mounted his pony. Minutes passed without further noise.
Satisfied the immediate danger had passed, Dominic whispered, ‘We stay here till morning and hope they don’t come back. Here’s as safe as anywhere for now.’
Unable to contain himself, Murdoc hugged Dominic. ‘Oh Dom, well met, well met! And I thought you dead long ago.’
Dominic shook his head—his expression dour. ‘No … these days safety lies in the forest not in the fields. I’ve seen what these bastards do, and I thank the Gods that I fled from village life when I did—‘
He stopped when noticing that Ceola trembled and stared wide-eyed at his wolf hat. ‘She’s shaking,’ he said. ‘It’s my hat that frightens her.’ He moved beside Ceola, his tone gentle. ‘Have no fear little one, the snarl has gone from its old snout and now serves only to keep the sun and rain from my silly head.’ He pulled his face, causing her to smile and bury her face into Murdoc’s side.
‘Her name’s Ceola and that’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since the raid,’ said Murdoc as he fondly stroked her hair. ‘She’s my daughter and we were the only survivors from the village.’
Dominic looked crestfallen. ‘Your wife and father?’
Murdoc said nothing, merely looked down and shook his head. After a while he turned his gaze to Dominic. ‘What about you, Dom? Your mother and father? … Your brother?’
‘Da and ma dead long ago from pestilence.’ He paused a while, seemingly preoccupied with an inner troublesome thought. ‘As for Lew; he became increasingly strange, nobody knew why; wrestled with his own inner demons he did. He walked into the forest fifteen years gone and hasn’t been seen since. He must be dead by now, though I hate to think it. I searched for him for a full year after he left—the Romans allowed me time off, and I thank them for that—but I didn’t find him. Even now I keep thinking I’ll come across him, but that hope’s faded almost to nothing.’ He looked at Murdoc and gave a sad little laugh. ‘So here we are, both stripped of our families, although you still have that dear child to keep you going.’ Dominic chanced a quick look over the rim of the hollow. When he sat down again there was anger in his eyes. ‘Who are these people and why are they doing this?’ he asked.
‘Invaders from the mainland; Saxon folk and others who have always visited these shores,’ said Murdoc, angry himself now. ‘They come in numbers, and are hungry for gold and land and slaves. They treat us like beasts and delight in killing. Those they allow to live, they sell across the sea. Some say there are even slave markets on these shores now—in their town of Norwic on the eastern coast. Megan and father were butchered before me, and I’ll avenge them—that I swear. I’ll repay the Saxons for what they’ve done.’
Ceola had started to cry again, so Dominic took her from Murdoc and held her close. ‘Don’t worry my little love,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll take you and your da back to my home, deep in these woods, and there we’ll not be found by any of the bad men.’ Ceola warmed to him as he rocked her and soon became silent. After a few moments, he handed her back to Murdoc. Again, he stood to peer over the edge of the hollow. The woods were silent. He sat down again. ‘What are your plans my friend?’
Murdoc sighed. ‘I don’t know—other than to escape from this present nightmare and save Ceola. I’d like to reach some of our kinfolk and settle down again, but it seems like the world’s gone insane. Rumour has it the raiders own kin have started to farm the land near the eastern shore. First, the warriors plunder, then their families settle the empty fields.’
; ‘Then you must come with me,’ said Dominic. ‘I’ve a permanent base by a track once used by Rome in a deep part of the forest; there’s space for us all at my camp. There, you’ll grow stronger and can stay with me for the rest of your days if you wish.’
Murdoc’s eyes moistened as he listened to Dominic. After some moments, he dragged the sleeve of his tunic across them. ‘Thank-you,’ he said. ‘I thought Britannia had gone bad for ever, but now I know that good men still exist.’ He was thoughtful for a while. ‘You say your base is by an old track. Could it be the trail that runs westward? The one I was looking for?’
‘Yes, the track is ancient and does run to the west,’ said Dominic, ‘although I found it the hard way, through the marshes. Why do you seek it?’
‘I thought it may be an easier way through the forest and away from the trouble.’
‘You’re right, it is an easier way through, but it’s pretty overgrown now. I travelled down it for three days westwards and still the woods surrounded me. If you want to go that way you need to get strong again. For now, though, we need to keep our eyes peeled. Tomorrow should be safe enough to take you back.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Days earlier, Egbert and a war band of thirty-eight men had ridden out of the devastated village and onto a faint track that ran westwards into the forest. Osric had provided a string of extra ponies, and these brought up the rear of the group. They journeyed through the forest on a rough but distinct track, making steady progress through the thinner tree cover of the forest edge.
At dusk, their night fire burned beside a burbling stream. Tomas fed and watered the ponies, then prepared the evening meal.
After they had eaten, Egbert addressed the men. ‘It seems there’s to be no rest for anyone who displeases Osric. But we’ll get this done quickly, because I for one intend to spend the winter mounting whores in Camulodunum. I can also plan strategy in the taverns alongside our leader.’ There was laughter from some of the men at his slight towards Osric. ‘So it’s hard days ahead, at full pelt with shit food’—Tomas shivered with dread as Egbert adopted a mocking expression and turned his stare upon him—‘but no-one must upset him; it seems Osric’s taken a shine to him. Maybe he plans to wed him.’
More sniggering ensued as Egbert walked over to Tomas and cupped the boy’s face in his hand. He gave it a series of gentle slaps—his mocking tone mirroring his expression. ‘You must tell me young master how you’d prefer your ale. Mulled … maybe?’
Tomas’ smile was nervy and uncomfortable. As ever, Egbert’s genial tone had fallen short of his bleak eyes. He prepared himself for the inevitable slap, but before it landed Withred snatched Egbert’s hand from his face.
Exasperated, he faced Egbert. ‘Does nothing Osric say sink into your boar’s head, you fat bastard? The boy is not to BE HARMED! If I find one bruise on him I’ll kick your balls to pulp, do you hear me!’
Egbert’s face was a mask of disdain as he looked to the men for support. ‘Oh, listen will you to Osric’s little puppy?’ He let go of Tomas. ‘There … does that satisfy you. Don’t shit yourself over him, he’ll return in one piece, don’t worry.’ He pointed a threatening finger at Withred, ‘And don’t tell me how I should have my sport.’
There was a sneer in Withred’s smile as he coldly eyed Egbert. ‘Maybe I should tell you. For I’ve seen you have your sport and even by our standards it makes my flesh crawl.’
Egbert walked to his sleeping place. Wheezing as he lowered his bulk into position and unable to resist having the last word, he flicked his head dismissively at Withred. ‘If you’ve no stomach for the hunt then maybe you should scuttle off back to your master.’
Withred did not deign to reply. Instead, he laughed softly and incredulously before shaking his head and turning away.
The next morning, Tomas had the ponies ready and waiting for an early start. Withred received his pony from him. ‘Come now, lad,’ he advised, ‘try to keep up with us as we start moving—better that than annoy him, eh? You would do well to avoid his temper.’
‘And don’t I know it,’ said Tomas. ‘I’ve felt what he can do when he’s annoyed … or when he’s not annoyed for that matter.’
Withred mounted his pony and looked down to Tomas. ‘That may be true, but just keep up with the pace.’ He heeled his pony, setting it to a trot into the misty morning.
For three hours, the ponies made slow but steady progress over the pocked and rutted ground. They approached a clearing colonised by bracken.
A rider named Cerdic—one of the three who had chased Martha and Simon into the forest—was the first man to enter the lea. The lambasting he had received from Osric, as well as the enforced journey into the deep woods, had left him in a dejected and morose mood, and he had hardly spoken since leaving the village. A movement ahead caught his eye, alerting him to a man dropping to the ground with a small girl. Before he could inform the others, Dominic’s arrow entered the hollow of his neck, causing him to fall backwards and dead over his pony. Withred, who was riding behind, immediately slid from his pony to seek cover.
On seeing Cerdic fall, Egbert rode to the front. The others, expecting another attack, had dropped to the ground. Egbert examined Cerdic then began to give out his orders. ‘He’s dead, and killed by one man, otherwise more arrows would had come our way. Withred, take three to search the far corner; the rest come with me.’
Before Withred could move, a piercing howl stopped him dead. Looking over to the noise, he saw a wolf’s head staring at them from behind a bank of bracken, sixty paces away.
One of the men, a stringy warrior named Aelred, blanched at the sight. His voice quavered with fear as he said: ‘Let’s get out of here; a wolf god is amongst us.’
Many nodded and murmured their agreement as they gathered in a protective huddle. Withred, who knew another arrow had to follow, dropped to one knee to reduce his outline. Again, the howl was sounded, but this time the wolf showed himself to the group as he released another arrow. Aelred fell, pierced through the cheek, half of the arrow emerging from the rear of his head.
Astonished, Egbert looked down at him. After a pause, he began to chivvy and slap the men out of their torpor as he realised what was happening. ‘That’s no wolf God you rat brains—it’s a wild man. Get on your ponies and deal with him. Get on your ponies NOW!’ He turned to Tomas. ‘And you … you bring my pony now, and quickly before I forget my pledge to Osric!’
Egbert was soon mounted. He galloped across the glade and entered the thicket near to where Dominic had stood He gave out his orders. ‘See … there’s his bolt hole. Get down off your ponies—they’ll not go through the thorns you dicks, so we must follow him on foot.’ He waved two of the men past him. ‘You two go ahead and hack a way through.’
Left alone in the clearing, Tomas considered his chances of escaping. Having come close to a beating the previous night, he knew it was a mere matter of time before the men vented their frustrations upon him. An unsuccessful pursuit of the wolf-man would almost certainly mean that a furious Egbert, regardless of Withred’s earlier warning, would hammer him.
He finally made up his mind when he saw the man in the wolf’s head hat return to the glade and run over to a rock face that reared on its eastern side. Two other figures—a man and small girl—emerged from the pile of bracken that lay at the foot of the crag. Tomas watched, as the wolf-man picked up the girl and ran into the forest. The other man followed behind.
Knowing he had scant time before Egbert came back, he decided to follow the departing figures and take his chance with them. If they were enemies of Egbert’s group, then they stood a good chance of being friendly to him.
The noise of the searchers in the wood prompted him to action, and he ran into the forest following the small group, just as Egbert and his men returned to the clearing. Quickly, Tomas melted into the cover of the trees.
He kept a respectful distance behind the group of three, not wishing to reveal himself in the heat of the pursu
it, aware the people ahead would have no idea if he were friend or foe. After shadowing them for a while, they stopped running, compelling Tomas to hide behind a tangle of bracken. From here, he watched as they jumped into a hole beside a fallen tree.
He was in a colony of beech which had little undergrowth. He searched around but could see nowhere to hide. His dismay deepened upon hearing riders approach—the noise sending him to frenzy as he sought a hiding place.
The oncoming crescendo told him his capture was imminent and unavoidable. He noticed a deep carpet of dead leaves in one of the nearby hollows. Scrambling down towards it, he was relieved to find the leaf litter went down a full arm’s length. Quickly, he heaped a large pile of leaves to one side, then rolled into the scoop and dragged them back over him.
His disappearance was barely in time as he heard the sound of voices almost beside him. Under the leaves, the shouts sounded muffled, but he heard someone shout his name. The voice belonged to Egbert. He had ordered the men to rally to him.
Horror-struck, Tomas realised they had broken off their search for the wolf man. They were now looking for him! He heard rustling around him as some of the men jumped into the leafy hollow. They knew he was under the leaves!
Sensing his discovery was imminent —either by wading feet or thrusting spear—he prepared himself for capture. Again a shouting came from above, but this time Tomas could hear every detail.
It was Egbert again—his tone triumphant as he stood on the rim of the hollow. ‘Eadmund, you stay here and find the boy,’ he shouted. ‘The rest of you come with me.’
CHAPTER SIX
After spending their first full night in the forest, Simon and Martha made good progress along the bank of the stream in the valley bottom. Simon seemed to be familiar with the surrounding woodland, but after a while he stopped and slumped on a rock beside the stream.
Wolfbane (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) Page 5