by Jacky Gray
‘Right on the fence, as with everything. The man could bargain treaties for kings.’
‘Do you think he would prefer Rattrick’s soft approach or a return to the original Renegate values?’
‘You mean your approach?’
‘I am pleased to uphold the code. What about you?’
‘I try my best. It’s not always possible.’
‘I hear tales you’ve become soft since that dreadful song came out. What about Pitivo? I will not ask again.’
The blade tightened as Gunari responded to his brother’s obvious displeasure. Hereward strove to show no reaction.
‘I can’t speak for him, but from what I know he could be persuaded, particularly if there was a good profit in it. His wife …’
‘Oh yes, the fair Tsuritsa. An exotic name for an exotic lady. And expensive, too, I’ll warrant. Is that what you were about to say?’
The pressure of the blade stopped him from nodding, so he had to speak. ‘Yes. And the daughter.’
‘Ah the even fairer Kia, a fragrant rose.’ The look on his face held such evil every one of Hereward’s men shuddered and the two women looked as if they were going to be sick.
Returning from his unpleasant thoughts, Gunari looked at the Renegate leader as if trying to recall the conversation. ‘So, chief Hereward, can you be trusted? You turn up here saying my brother has taken over your patch and expect me to give it back to you?’
Hereward met his gaze with total candour as though it was the only reason they were having this polite little chat. He showed no reaction to the fact his neck was being reddened by a dirty blade or that several members of his tribe were herded into a tight group with lethal weapons pointing at them.
‘I didn’t say I wanted the exact patch back, simply that this is my normal place of business. If you’re bleeding the city dry, then it makes sense for us to move on elsewhere.’
He nearly added he’d heard Kent was Renegate free, but felt it was pushing it too far and Savannah’s fiery oath inside his head told him it was the right decision.
Guaril finished the apple, throwing the core into the fire and sheathing his knife. ‘Well, it’s like this. I place a high price on your loyalty, so you will need to give me one of these young men of yours as a hostage. If you step out of line, he will become a pretty boy for the men in my camp.’
Manfrid, Tamas and Oeric were pulled out from the group and the two mothers had the sense not to move a muscle to prevent it. Guaril went up to examine each boy, making a big deal of Tamas’s scar.
‘Now there’s a face only a mother could love. Pity, because if you cover it up, he’s almost as pretty as a girl. Shows courage though, not like this cringing ninny. Hah!’ Manfrid flinched back as Guaril jumped a step closer, and his men wore delighted grins at the boy’s squeal. ‘So here’s the question. One of these three is your nephew, which one?’
Hereward knew it to be a test. If he lied, the man’s information was good enough that he would know it and then all hope of trust would be lost. He had no choice. ‘My nephew’s called Manfrid.’
A slow handclap said he’d passed the test. ‘Right, come on then, Manfrid, look lively. Step forward and you shall come to live with me for a while.’
After half a heartbeat, Tamas took a stride forward. ‘I’m Manfrid.’
Both women gasped, distracting Guaril, whose eyes narrowed. ‘Is this true, Hereward? Is this brave, beautiful boy your nephew?’
He didn’t need Savannah’s unspoken warning; there was only one thing he could do. ‘I would be proud to call this boy kin of mine; he has the heart of a lion.’
‘But instead you have to contend with this snivelling lump of lard? What a heartbreak that must be.’ He walked back to Hereward as though considering the problem, then poked him in the chest. ‘Still, you’re not the boy’s father; he should be called to atone for his son’s cowardice.’
‘He’s long gone.’
‘Dead? No matter. I won’t deprive his poor mother of his company any longer, although I might suggest it’s the only way you’ll make a man of him.’ He pushed the boy to his mother and turned to Tamas. ‘You. Come here.’ Holding his head high, Tamas showed no fear as he approached the bully. ‘You lied to me. Why?’
‘I could not see the tribe’s good name sullied by cowardice. Hereward is a man I would be privileged to call uncle.’
‘Loyalty as well. I think I picked the right boy.’ With a swift move his knife was out of its sheath and Tamas was kneeling on the ground with the blade against his neck as Guaril snarled at Hereward, ‘Give me a good reason why I should not slit his throat and my brother yours.’
Hereward was cool. ‘Because despite your reputation and your love of theatre, you’re an honourable man. And we are your kin, not your enemies.’
‘A fine speech. And you, boy. What is your name?’
‘Tamas, sir.’
‘Sir, he says. You are cool indeed with my blade to your throat. Do you have anything to say to me, Tamas?’
‘I will not lie again. Sir.’
‘No, you will not. Nobody lies to me with a severed throat.’
This time Joelle did cry out, a single syllable which turned into a strangled howl. ‘Nooooo!’
His hand moved with precision, just enough to release a single drop of blood. Then he shook his head in disbelief. ‘Still not so much as a tremble. Such courage. Who are you Hereward, that you can create boys of steel? But I will have my mark.’ His hand flashed out and a thin red line appeared on Hereward’s cheek, matching exactly the scar on Tamas’s cheek. With a gentle kiss on the top of the boy’s head, he pulled him up. ‘Arise, Tamas the lion-heart. You will make a fine student. By the time I’ve finished with you, no man will ever be able to get you on your knees like that again.’
Gunari seemed reluctant to believe Hereward. ‘You’re surely not going to trust a man who lies …’
‘Were you not listening, Gunari? Hereward did not lie, and Tamas only lied to protect a coward. For that he will be the hostage, and I think this will give our Renegate chief much more reason to be cautious than if we’d taken the nephew he’s secretly ashamed of.’
He released his hold on Tamas. ‘You have the choice dear brother: Do you want to stay here in this barren spot or take a patch over to the east where you will pick up all the London merchants. Of course, I could give that spot to Hereward …’
‘No, we will move.’
‘Good. And our new friend here will be visited regularly by myself and my good friend Witta, just to make sure he understands how we work.’ He turned to Hereward. ‘And you will have a new friend staying with you just to make sure you’re not doing anything silly like planning to overthrow us from the inside.’
A tall man introduced himself as Frealof in a high pitched voice.
‘In case you are wondering, yes, I did that to him. He thought about crossing me once so he had the choice of turning into a woman or losing his life. Show them.’
Frealof pulled down his scarf to show an ugly scar where his Adam’s apple used to be. ‘Not that scar, the other one.’ He started to unbutton his breeches, and Guaril laughed out loud at the shocked expressions as several of them instinctively covered their private parts. ‘That’s enough, they get the idea.’
‘Now, one final thing. We are short of women as you may have noticed, so I think our lion-heart’s mother should come with us to watch over her boy.’
Tamas’s father was not about to let that happen easily, standing in front as one of the men took her arm.
‘You wouldn’t want to cross Goran, he’s descended from mountain folk. Their reputation is to never quite let an enemy die from the pain.’ Hereward’s aloof tone belied the menace.
‘Sounds like an interesting companion for the campfire.’ Guaril gestured toward Hereward, ‘Let him go.’ Releasing his hold on Tamas, he addressed Goran. ‘You have two minutes to get your lionhearted boy, your wagon and your woman away from the rest, so the other wago
ns can move out.’
39 Strategies and Tactics
‘You mean he took Tamas instead of Manfrid? But Tamas is twice the man Manfrid will ever be.’ Geraint couldn’t help but show concern for his friend as Archer updated the map, his annoyance at this latest development quite evident.
‘Which is exactly why he took him. And his mother and father so there’s no chance of a stealthy rescue, not if you have to start searching for three people.’
‘Won’t they all be in their wagon?’
‘Would you do it like that if you were in charge? Neither will Guaril. He’s smart.’ Archer’s expression said he didn’t mean to snap at Geraint’s questions, but he was frustrated by the time it all took. Being a man of action, he wanted to be in amongst it, but their plans were thwarted; they’d not bargained on it being so difficult to get information in and out.
The cleverest part about Savannah’s plan was that she and Hereward would have the privacy of his wagon to discuss and plot. She would then mind link the most important information to Ganieda who was staying with Pitivo’s tribe at Lambourn for a few days during his supposed pilgrimage to Uffington White Horse and Stonehenge.
They had reckoned without Guaril’s lack of trust. Hereward had no sooner moved their wagons into the space vacated by Gunari’s tribe, than their visitors turned up. Luckily, Savannah had used the journey time wisely, transmitting the first message to Ganieda. She only managed to get the briefest details as the two women did not know each other well enough to establish a good connection over long distances, particularly on the move. The most important thing was to let Kalen know he must stay away. Nothing could be gained by him risking his life, and it would only increase the chances of Hereward and Savannah’s cover being blown.
The nasty little imp, Alfwin, had some mind-linking talent; he seemed to know each time Savannah tried to connect. Although she was certain he couldn’t understand the messages, somehow he seemed to block or weaken her ability. He stuck to her like a limpet, even sleeping under their wagon.
When Pitivo’s “pilgrimage” ended, another opportunity presented itself, and Ganieda moved closer to the tribe, staying in Ryder’s friends’ house in Wantage. She sent periodic messages, but Savannah didn’t dare to reply while Alfwin was around.
Savannah’s real chance came when he accompanied Herward’s raiding party instead of Frealof. The gods were not with her; Ganieda didn’t appear to be around to make the connection. She finally established the link, apologising for taking a nap after being up all night delivering a neighbour’s baby. Savannah managed to get two words out – “Camp spy” – before the door opened, announcing Hereward’s return.
Andrzej proved to have hidden talents. His old-fashioned opinions about women and hatred of the old religion made him popular with many of Guaril’s men. But it was his ability to consume vast quantities of ale without becoming the slightest bit intoxicated which brought him to the rebel leader’s attention. Drinking contests were a frequent part of their entertainment and it wasn’t long before Hereward, Frealof and Andrzej were invited down to Guaril’s camp for several contests.
Normally men-only affairs, the invitation to join Guaril’s campfire on the night before full moon shocked Savannah, but she saw a great opportunity to get some real information and pass it back. Frealof stomped around, furious not to be invited this time.
They only had a few minutes after his messenger arrived with the summons, but she gave Hereward a root to chew on and a potion to dull the effects of the ale. But the most effective thing was the intention. She whispered it to him and he had to repeat the affirmation several times before she declared him ready. Alfwin tailed a few paces behind them as Andrzej tried his best to warn Savannah of the potential dangers by describing the protocols at the previous meetings in great detail.
Savannah’s concerns when Alfwin spoke to Guaril were unnecessary. His report held little more than observations about the number of times they disappeared into the wagon. He obviously sensed something when she mind-linked but he thought she talked to ghosts or angels. The dwarf had no idea of his ability to block, only that the “spirit talk” stopped when he was close by.
Her intense attention on the conversation made its way through to Guaril’s consciousness, but she turned a split second before him and he only saw her sharing a passionate kiss with Hereward.
‘For Hengist’s sake man, put her down. Seems like you’re in the first flush of lust; can’t get enough of her.’
‘Can you blame me? Was there ever a lustier woman?’ Hereward enjoyed his part a little too much, as he slapped her backside, and she had no choice but to giggle like a new bride.
Tamas seemed to have changed completely. Gone was the quiet, slightly serious, friend of Geraint’s who she’d thought gentle and sweet. In his place was the loud, vulgar type of boy who made her shudder with contempt. Guaril’s men seemed to treat him like a pet dog, plying him with alcohol and teasing him into saying and doing more and more outrageous things.
As the drinking game got under way, she chanced a quick message to Hereward, repeating the affirmation only to have a mocking male voice inside her head suggesting she cheated. Being used to the finer techniques of mind-links, she managed to show no reaction to the intruding voice as she quickly scanned the faces of the people around her. The man doing it was equally skilled and not one face or body betrayed the owner of the disguised voice. Savannah had been studying the craft for many years and knew when someone mind-linked, the amount of brain activity became so intense it showed up in the person’s aura. Confident she knew the culprit, she kept watch for the next few rounds and sure enough, her suspicions were confirmed.
This had serious ramifications. She needed to warn people as quickly as she could. She daren’t risk mind-linking, which would be her method of choice. A few moments later, a potential solution presented itself.
Tamas’s mother Joelle had prepared and cooked a host of dishes to accompany the ale. As she passed by Guaril, collecting up the used platters, the pile wobbled and threatened to fall, so Savannah stood to steady it.
Joelle happily accepted the offer of help, saying they needed to clean the platters first. As she took a cloth to dry them, Savannah dropped a scrap of parchment.
‘I’ve been hearing stories about the progress Tamas has been making with his warrior skills, but I’m not sure I like the way he’s behaving, he used to be so mild-mannered.’
As Savannah prattled away to divert her thoughts, Joelle sneaked a quick look at the three words, then dropped the scrap into the bowl where the writing began to dissolve. But not before a hairy hand picked it out. ‘What’s this doing in the bowl? It’ll poison the plates.’ Goran sounded suspicious.
‘Sorry, it must have caught on my sleeve, I was making a list of things we need.’ Savannah had a ready excuse.
‘What does it say? And don’t lie, I can read.’
‘I’m sure you can, but it’s a bit smudged. Grain, bread, mint. The rest has rubbed off.’
‘I don’t believe you. I’m going to take it to Guaril.’
‘Go ahead, you’ll be popular, interrupting his precious game.’
‘And how annoyed will he be if he can’t read? You will have shown him up in front of the whole tribe.’
Grumbling, he stumbled back to his guard duty. Joelle shook her head. ‘He’s changed as well. He was never the world’s best husband but he wasn’t this nasty before.’
Savannah wondered why Goran might take Guaril’s side against his wife; she could only imagine he was being drugged or hypnotised or both. She quickly suppressed the idea, making her thoughts as bland as her expression. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it will all work out. The men seem to like having a woman around to cook for them so they won’t let anything happen to you. Nobody’s tried anything have they?’
‘Oh no. He told them on the first day that if anyone tried to touch me, he would cut off whatever they used to touch me. You should have seen them all, coverin
g up their … you know.’ She giggled and pointed down.
‘Goran said this? I didn’t think him that violent.’
‘No, Guaril. Then he turned to me and said it was one rule for everyone, so if he touched me, I would have the right to cut it off.’ She shuddered. ‘And he meant it. I think he’s a bit …’
‘Don’t you think we’d better get back? They’ll be shouting for the next course.’ Savannah looked meaningfully at the scrap of paper and the coded message that Guaril read minds.
The younger woman’s eyes widened as she understood the warning. ‘What you think he can? From here? No.’
‘I think we have to assume so.’
The next few hours were difficult for Savannah; she had to ensure she did not think about anything but what she could see in front of her. Guaril insisted she taste every beaker of ale poured for him; he seemed obsessed someone might try to poison or drug him. As the potent ale took effect, the thought she should have taken precautions flitted through her mind, and she felt his eyes upon her as though he heard her thoughts. She blushed at his gaze, then realised this had an even more potent effect on him.
As Hereward drank more, he became more frisky, putting his arm round her and trying to steal kisses. Each time, she subtly drew Guaril’s attention to it; however the game competed for his interest. Realising this power might be useful; she saw no point wasting it without prior planning. So she collected another round of dirty bowls and headed back to the trough outside Goran’s wagon. Hearing footsteps behind, she turned expecting to fight off an amorous Hereward or Guaril.
Tamas lurched at her as though about to be sick. ‘Help me.’ His voice sounded weak and she took pity on the lad, helping him over to the edge of the field where he made loud coughing noises, then seemed to collapse, giggling. As she dampened a cloth in the stream to clean his face, he grabbed her arm, pulling her face close to his as though to kiss her. She turned so his lips were close to his ear.