by Griff Hosker
He stepped back and snarled at me. “You are not a real warrior! A real warrior would not need a shield.”
I smiled although most of my face was hidden by the face mask. “I need no shield to fight someone such as you.”
I let the shield drop to the ground. My left arm still ached from the blow. His eyes widened with excitement. He now had a longer reach. I was well aware of his advantage. He brought the sword back two handed and, striding forward he swung it with all of his might at my head. In my youth I would have danced out of the way. Now I had no such mobility and I used Calum’s own trick. I spun the opposite way and brought Saxon Slayer around. I felt it connect with his back and I pulled back. I did not want to kill him.
I heard a cheer from my men and the king shout, “Cease!”
I lowered my weapon and watched in horror as he swung his own sword at me. My instinct took over and I blocked it with Saxon Slayer. I was angry and I brought Saxon Slayer, two handed in a wide sweep. He brought his own sword around to block it. Saxon Slayer struck it and the long sword shattered in two. As he stood there dumfounded I reversed my grip and smashed the pommel into the middle of his head. He fell to the ground, unconscious.
The king strode over. His face was a mask of anger. “That was cowardly from my warrior. I will have his head for this.” He drew his sword and put the point to the giant’s neck.
“Before you take revenge I think you might ask him some questions about who put him up to this.”
I saw the confusion on the king’s face. “Put him up to it?”
“He was itching for a fight from the moment we met and from the instant the fight started he was trying to kill me, not just make me bleed. Now I have never met this man before and we have no history so someone else either wishes me dead or you harm.”
“Me harm?”
“You do not think that if I had been killed my sons would have idly sat by. You would have had the wrath of my equites to face and believe me few of your men would have survived.”
“I can see that you may have grown older but it has not diminished your skills and your mind is as sharp as any.”
Calum began to come to and he felt the tip of the sword in his throat. Two of the king’s other guards pinned his arms to the ground with their feet. “You failed to stop when I ordered it. You should be dead now but Lord Lann here wishes some answers to some questions. Answer them and your death will be swift. Keep silent and we will let the crabs devour you slowly.”
There was hatred in his eyes. “Who paid you to kill me?”
He spat. “Kill me! I will tell you nothing. Put me with the crabs. I can take the pain.”
I saw Fiachnae mac Báetáin raise his sword. Myrddyn said, “Wait! Please your majesty.” He reached into his satchel and brought out a tiny amphora.
Calum glared at him. There was defiance in his voice but fear in his eyes. “Use your magic! I care not.”
Myrddyn smiled and it sent shivers up my spine. This was a cruel smile. Myrddyn had suffered insults from Calum and he was in no mood for mercy. He slowly opened the bottle. “This is not magic. This is a liquid they use in Byzantium. It burns through anything; metal, wood flesh, anything. It is just this magic jar which prevents it eating all in its path.” He tipped a little on the stopper and a tiny drop dripped down and struck the warrior on the back of his hand. There was a hiss and then Calum screamed in agony. “They called it an acidus. Some are weaker than others. This one is a strong acidus.”
After Calum stopped screaming he tried to look at his hand. We could see that the flesh had been burned from it and the hole in his hand was growing albeit slowly. The warriors holding him down looked in amazement at the effect of the liquid.
Calum was obviously in pain yet he had courage. “I will not speak.”
Myrddyn nodded, “A brave man. Pull down his breeks!”
Another warrior began to pull them down revealing his manhood. Calum screamed like a wild beast. “I will tell you! I will tell you! It was Aethelfrith’s sons. Oswald paid me to challenge you and kill you.”
The king shook his head; I am not sure if it was anger or disbelief. “Where are they?”
“They are in the lands of the Uí Néill. You cannot reach them.”
I nodded to the king who lifted his sword and decapitated his former guard. “Put his head on a spear so that all may see the punishment for treachery.”
We began to walk back into the ring fort. This time my warriors stayed close to me. They were taking no chances.
The king looked at me. “A day of surprises. My bodyguard is a spy. You prove to be a remarkable swordsman and Myrddyn drops water which burns. I think I have made the right decision and you will be allies I can learn from.”
Chapter 5
Morcar couldn’t wait to get to the hut and help me to take off my armour. “How did you know that you could defeat him? he was bigger, stronger and…” he suddenly became embarrassed as he realised what he was about to say.
“And younger?” Morcar nodded. “If you fight a man with no armour and he faces you then you should not lose. Even if he had connected with his sword my armour and my shield were more than a match for him. His sword shattered easily. Do you think it could have breached my armour? As for being younger and stronger well, perhaps I used my mind and experience to win the day.”
Tuanthal nodded. “Having good weapons helps. I have never seen a sword do that before. I examined the two pieces afterwards and they had been badly bent from the few blows it had struck.”
“If they are used to fighting each other with weapons like that then they know no different. Saxon Slayer is a good sword but you all know that there are swords which have blades as strong.”
Morcar shook his head, “There is only one Saxon Slayer.”
“How do you know? There may be other blades waiting to be found. When Myrddyn and I studied in Constantinopolis we read of other blades which had been lost; some in Frankia and some in Germania. I found Saxon Slayer because the spirits which rule us wanted me to find it. They needed the change that it would bring. Perhaps another sword is waiting for its time.”
Morcar looked longingly at my sword, “I would have Saxon Slayer rather than any other blade.”
We spent the rest of the day finalising the details of how the king would aid us. Having seen the effects of my armour and weapons he was keen to acquire some himself.
“I will bring you a gift of a sword, helmet and shield when we begin our campaign. Once we defeat the Saxons then we can use some of their weapons and their armour.”
“Is it as good as yours?”
Myrddyn put down his beaker of honeyed ale. “No, but it is much better than that which you use.”
The king looked offended. “Are you always this blunt?”
“I always speak the truth and do not dress it in borrowed clothes. Would you rather I told you a lie? You would soon find out when you fought the Saxons.”
“Then how do I defeat them?”
“You don’t. The Warlord does.” Myrddyn gestured with his thumb. “He is what the Emperors in the east call a strategos. He can not only fight he can read a battle. If you watch and learn then you will be the greatest king on this Ireland soon you will rule it all.”
“The Uí Néill is a powerful clan. There are many tribes who owe allegiance to them. It is why we cannot go after these men who ordered your death.”
I drank my own honeyed ale. It was a pleasant drink but I could not drink too many of them; they were too sweet. “You do not need to. I will deal with Oswiu and Oswald in my own time. So long as they are here they will not cause me trouble at home.”
“When will you return home then, Warlord?”
“We have concluded what we needed. We will sail tomorrow.”
The king looked disappointed. “I had thought to take you on a wolf hunt. There is a pack in the mountains to the south and as the Wolf Warrior, I had thought to take you.”
Morcar looked crestfallen
and Tuanthal looked unhappy too. Myrddyn said, “We could leave it one more day. It will not hurt and I can study the holy books which the king has acquired.”
Myrddyn had discovered that there was a small chapel in the ring fort and he had some of the holy books of the White Christ. Myrddyn always sought knowledge. I relented. “Very well. We will stay one extra day.”
They all seemed more excited than I was. “You will enjoy the way we hunt them. We have wolfhounds to run them down. If we let them they would tear the wolves to pieces but we prefer to finish them ourselves.”
Leaving Myrddyn engrossed in his books we rode on the small ponies the king used. It was strange as the wolf hounds were almost as big as the mounts we rode. The king’s brother, Fiachra, and his cousins accompanied us. There were forty men who rode south on the fine morning. I did not anticipate either killing or being threatened by a wolf. There were too many of us but I thought that it might do Morcar good to have to face such dangers. It had made a man of me.
Morcar and four of my warriors went with the king’s brother and his cousins. They had their own pack. The brothers appeared to have a great deal of rivalry. It had not been that way with my brothers. As he had four of my oathsworn to watch him I did not worry about Morcar however I would have preferred to watch him to see his reaction to the hunting of this deadly predator.
The king had men who ran with the wolfhounds keeping them on a leash. They kept up with us on the ponies and I knew that they were fit men. I decided to talk to the king about how he might use such men. Speed on a battlefield could carry the day.
The hounds picked up the scent and we galloped up the slopes of the mountains. They were not steep but they would sap the energy from legs. We had to be careful for there were many rocks and places where you could trip if you were unwary. I began to worry about Morcar. He was not as good a horseman as either my sons or Lann Aelle. I would not want him falling from his horse and injuring himself.
It was at noon when the leading huntsman blew his horn. The wolves were within sight. I drew my spear. I would not take away any of the glory from the king. It was his land and he should be the one to garner the glory of the kill. I rode at his left side. He seemed oblivious to the danger and regarded this as some kind of entertainment. It was not, it was deadly serious.
We had to dismount once the wolf hounds ascended amongst the rocks. Four warriors were assigned as holders for the ponies. I carried my wolf spear in two hands. I noticed that the king just balanced it on one hand. He was going to try to throw the spear at a wolf. If it worked it would be a magnificent kill but you needed supreme confidence to be able to strike exactly the right spot.
The slope was steep and my leg struggled to support my weight and to move at a speed which would keep up with the king. The hounds were tugging at their leashes. The wolves were near. I looked to the right and the other party was nowhere in sight. I suddenly realised that we had not seen them for some time. Perhaps they were approaching from the other side of the hill and we would trap the wolves between us.
There was a mighty roar and five wolves leapt from cover. The wolfhounds all pounced on one of them and there was a mass of snarling and tearing teeth as the hounds and the wolf tumbled down the slope. Perhaps the sight of the vicious fight distracted the king for his throw was a poor one and it only caught the wolf in the shoulder. The wolf howled in pain and then tore the spear out with his teeth. In one move it sprang towards the king. He had not even drawn his sword. The rest of the hunters were busy with the other three wolves thinking that the king had killed it.
I could not risk throwing the spear for I might miss and I hobbled up the slope and then launched myself and spear at the wolf. I knew that I only had one chance. I had to strike the head. The Allfather was with me and the spear entered the side of the wolf’s head just as its jaws fastened on to the king’s arm. The weight of my body threw the wolf to one side and I landed on top of the dying animal. The spear had pinned its body to the ground and I watched it as life left its fierce eyes.
“Farewell wolf brother. You fought well.”
I was helped to my feet by the king. “That was a mighty blow. I owe you much Warlord.”
I pulled the spear out. “Perhaps you might have your sword ready next time, your majesty.”
“You are right. I thought I had him.”
“He nearly had you.”
The king’s bodyguards could not apologise enough. They had failed to save the life of the king. Worse, a stranger had.
The wolf which had been attacked by the wolfhounds had killed two and a third had to be destroyed. It had been a mighty warrior. I was sad that we had ended the lives of such brave animals. As the wolves’ carcasses were threaded on to spears the king said. “There were no females and cubs. Perhaps the others found them.” He turned to his huntsman, “Padraigh, take the wolves and hounds back. We will seek the others.” The chief huntsman nodded. All of his animals had injuries.
We found Fiachra and most of the others just in the next high part of the mountains. They had slain some of the wolves but they had suffered wounds. Fiachra was nursing a leg savagely ripped by a wolf.
“My wizard can look at that.”
Fiachra looked a little worried until his brother said, “The wizard can help. He is a healer too.”
I suddenly realised that I could not see Morcar and the four warriors with him were missing. “Where is my nephew?”
Fiachra pointed to the south. “A few of the wolves escaped and they took after them.”
The king mounted his pony. “Do not worry Warlord. They will be safe.”
We rode south and crossed the high trails over the hills. The path took us between scrubby low bushes and rocks. It obscured the way ahead. I felt quite vulnerable despite the presence of Tuanthal and the king’s guards. I liked to have Aedh and his scouts ahead of me to warn us of danger. When we crested the rise we found the bodies. There were piles of bodies scattered all around. Two ponies lay dead.
I drew Saxon Slayer and spurred my pony on. I found the first cluster of bodies. It was the four warriors of mine who had guarded Morcar. Around them were spread eight whom I did not recognise. The king dismounted and searched with me. There was no sign of Morcar.
“These are not of our people. I do not recognise any of the clan markings.”
I sadly shook my head. “No they are Saxons. This is the work of Oswald and Oswiu.” I stared south as though willing them to come into view but it was empty. I turned to Tuanthal. “Put our dead on the ponies.” His face showed his distress. These had been his men chosen by him as being the best of the best. They had died doing their duty but that did not ease the loss.
“King Fiachnae mac Báetáin, where would they take him?”
He looked almost embarrassed. He pointed to the south. “There are forts in the south. They are their heartland.”
“Find where he is held for me, please.”
“I will send my best scouts. I should warn you, Warlord, that you may never see him again.”
I turned and smiled at the king, “Oh I shall see him again and he will be alive.”
“How do you know? Do you have the second sight?”
“No. It is logical. Had they wanted him dead they would have killed him here.”
“Perhaps they might want to torture him.”
“They would want me to see that and to suffer. This is to hurt me. Their father was a treacherous man, a nithing. The sons are the same. I need to speak with Myrddyn and my captain.”
When we reached the ring fort Myrddyn did not seem surprised by the actions of the two brothers. “They cannot hurt King Edwin over here and he is their greatest enemy but they can reach you through Morcar. They have something devious in mind, Warlord.” I knew that. First there was the attempt on my life and now this. They had known I would be coming here. The question was, how?
I went to the jetty to speak with Daffydd. “I need Aedh and his scouts here.” I told him what had hap
pened and his face darkened. Morcar was a popular lad as was his cousin, Lann Aelle. “We will need more than one ship for we will need horses.”
“I will return as soon as possible.”
The king was waiting with Tuanthal and Myrddyn when I returned. “You are being calm, Warlord. If this was my nephew I would be raging.”
I shrugged, “And what good would that do. It would stop you thinking clearly.” I pointed to the wizard. “One thing this man has taught me is that every man has a powerful weapon; it is called his mind. In a battle you need your heart but before and after you need your mind. When the battle begins you will see my anger. When I can do something to those who did this then you will see anger. Until then I will work out what to do. As soon as your men find out where he is held prisoner then we can plan.”
We had a rough idea of where he was by the end of the next day. Four well armed Hibernians and a young priest arrived at the gate. The priest spoke. “I am here to speak with the one who calls himself the Warlord, the pagan Lord Lann.”
If this priest, who had barely started shaving, thought he could intimidate me with insults he did not know me. I strode forward. “I am Lord Lann and what do you call yourself little man?”
I saw him colour. “I am Brother Padraigh.”
“Then speak before I give you an early visit to your White Christ.”
He became more than a little agitated at that. “I am a peace emissary and a man of God.”
“It will not worry me to slay a man of God and as for a peaceful emissary; you, I assume, represent those who kidnapped my nephew. Know this, servant of the White Christ, I am, as you say, a pagan. I do not forgive. I do not forget. I do not turn the other cheek. I remember your face and you should fear me.”