WHITEBLADE: Kings of Northumbria Book 1
Page 11
Oswald’s immediate thought was that if there was such a large force of his men in the area, why hadn’t Connad told him this? He was uncertain about what to do, until the other scout came back and joined them.
‘One of Beornwulf’s men emerged about half a mile to the left of where I was lying,’ he said breathlessly. ‘He ran along the lochside to the camp and I saw him in conversation with a man wearing a polished byrnie and a helmet with gold decoration, a chieftain, I suppose. Then the man with the helmet ordered the rest to gather their weapons and get ready to leave as quickly as possible. They’re probably no more than five or ten minutes behind me.’
‘Torquill, you’re probably the fastest runner. Get back down to the cove as quickly as you can, but walk slowly once you’re in view of the others. I don’t want you to attract attention to yourself, clear? Good. Then find Eochaid and tell him that we’re on our way back with a hundred enemy behind us. He’s to warn his men and those of our crew we left behind and then try to kill Beornwulf, if he can. He’s a traitor. Signal our two birlinns to come back into the cove. Got all that? Off you go.’
He turned to his men as the young warrior sped off down the stream as fast as he could go, over the slippery rocks and mud that lined the watercourse.
‘Archers into the undergrowth. Kill a few of our pursuers to slow them down and then follow us. Stop when you can and repeat the tactic. All I want you to do is delay them.’
The ten men with bows took cover in the gorse and other scrub growing beside a bend in the stream and Oswald led the rest back towards the cove.
A few minutes later, the first of the men camped by the inland loch appeared, led by the man in the gold decorated helmet. A volley of arrows winged their way into the unsuspecting crowd of warriors and several fell wounded or dead. One of the wounded was their leader, with an arrow in his thigh just above the knee. The rest dithered until another volley hit them, then they retreated, dragging the wounded with them. The dead were left where they were.
The archers forced their way through the undergrowth and re-joined the stream beyond the bend. A few hundred yards further on, they stopped again and waited for their pursuers to appear. They didn’t. They had obviously learned their lesson and the next thing the archers heard was the sound of men crashing through the bushes as they charged them. They let fly their arrows, bringing down a few and then fled down the stream.
Their attackers were slowed by the undergrowth and Oswald’s men were a hundred yards away before they reappeared. They shouted back to the rest of their band and then set off in pursuit. The leaders didn’t catch the archers before they reached the cove, but when they emerged onto the beach, they screeched to a halt when they saw what was happening.
~~~
Oswiu and Rònan were bored sitting out in Loch Fyne twenty yards from the entrance to the cove. The ten warriors on board were playing a game of chance, but they wouldn’t let them or the other two ships’ boys play. The two gazed over the side at the cove. Suddenly their interest was piqued when the saw Eochaid and Alaric talking to Torquill; they knew that he had gone with Oswald and they guessed that something had happened.
They had the presence of mind to go and tell the members of the on-board watch what they’d seen. Some would have ignored them and carried on with their game, but the two boys were liked and the men abandoned their gambling and went to see for themselves. Eochaid and Alaric had wandered over to speak to Beornwulf. A few of the latter’s men had gathered around to hear what was being said, but none had weapons to hand, except for the swords they all wore.
Suddenly a seax appeared in Alaric’s hand and he cut Beornwulf’s throat. The latter’s crew were stunned and didn’t react immediately. However, the other two crews were ready and immediately grabbed their weapons and shields and attacked the unprepared men from Lorne. Within a few minutes a dozen bodies lay on the sand and the rest of Beornwulf’s men had surrendered. They were disarmed and Eochaid beckoned his and Oswald’s birlinns into the cove. The one from Lorne was also preparing to get underway, but it headed off back down the Loch, making for the sea. Unfortunately for them, the wind was against them and they made little progress with only enough men for four oars a side instead of the usual twenty.
By the time the two birlinns had been beached Oswald and his men had reached the cove. The men quickly loaded the two ships and piled aboard, whilst archers kept arrows pointing at the unarmed men from Lorne.
Just then the war band from the interior started arriving on the beach and the archers changed their aim and brought several of them down. The late Beornwolf’s crew took the opportunity to charge the archers. It was brave but foolish as a volley fired from the two birlinns cut the leaders down. After one last volley the archers on shore ran for the ships as they were pushed off the beach.
The new arrivals also had bowmen and arrows thudded into the shields protecting the archers on board. Unfortunately they managed to kill two of the archers scrambling back aboard, but another volley from the ships forced the enemy bowmen to take cover behind the shields of their comrades. A few more arrows thudded into shields and the hull as the two ships backed water and then turned to exit the cove.
‘Whew, that was tight!’ Alaric grinned at Oswald. ‘It’s a good job you had your wits about you. How did you know Beornwulf was a traitor?’
‘Someone told me not to trust him; but I’m not sure that traitor is the right word. Those men that chased us were from Dal Riada. I smell treachery; this trap was laid by Connad, unless I’m very much mistaken. Who else could find a hundred men to be waiting for us above the cove where we spent the night? And Beornwulf was selected by Connad, too.’
‘How did they know we’d select that cove for their ambush?’
‘I didn’t think of it at the time, but Beornwulf called across about the cove quite a few minutes before he could have seen it. Obviously his task was to make sure that we camped there.’
‘Why didn’t they attack at night, then?’
‘I suppose that they were waiting until they received Beornwulf’s message to confirm that we were indeed at the cove before they moved. We were lucky that they didn’t think we’d see their campfires; otherwise we’d have been outnumbered and taken unawares. We owe a lot to Durstan’s sharp eyes.’
Alaric nodded and muttered ‘bastard’, presumably referring to Connad and not Durstan. By now they were rowing hard down the loch through the driving rain and were catching the Seraphim up fast. They eventually overtook her at the junction of Loch Fyne and Loch Gilp. The skeleton crew didn’t even try to put up a fight. Oswald put twenty three men from his ship and eighteen from Eochaid’s onto her to provide his latest acquisition with a helmsman and one rower per oar. To his delight, Rònan was selected as one of the rowers.
‘Where now? I take it we’re not heading back to Dùn Add?’ asked Eochaid, who had brought his birlinn within hailing distance of the Holy Saviour.
‘Not just yet. We need more men, first. That lot back there can make it back in a day or so across country and put Connad on his guard, whereas it will take us days to make it around the Kintyre Peninsula.’
‘What about heading for Ulster and asking my father for help?’
‘I’d rather not. He’s Connad’s ally and has given his oath to him as his High King. It would put him in a difficult position. No; I think we should head for Dùn Averty at the end of the peninsula and see if the King of Kintyre will help us.’
‘Why should he? He’s Connad’s vassal, too.’
‘Domnall Brecc is Connad’s nephew and the son of Buide, who Connad deposed. I’d be amazed if he’s friends with the man who killed his father.’
~~~
Acha was surprised to receive an invitation to visit Connad in his hall; she was even more surprised when the slave who brought her the invitation said that she should bring her children with her. She was curious, but not concerned, until she spotted two members of Connad’s personal bodyguard following them. She knew
then that the invitation did not bode well for her and her family.
The autumnal weather had been benign up until then, with weak sunshine and clear skies. Now, however, it had changed overnight and rain squalls came in from the west with increasing regularity. It had been raining heavily that morning and the ground was muddy and slippery. When one of the warriors following them lost his footing and landed heavily, Acha seized her opportunity and hit the slave accompanying them over the head with the pommel of her dagger.
The second warrior had been too preoccupied with laughing at his companion and then helping him up to see Acha grab the hands of her children and disappear between the huts that lined the main track through the settlement. The two men ran to where she had disappeared but there was no sign of her and the huts provided a maze in which Acha could vanish. It was only after some time spent searching fruitlessly that the two men thought of going back to her hut.
By then it was too late. She had grabbed some food, coins, warm clothing and water skins before making her way to Oswald’s hut. She would have liked to have taken her two slaves with her but Oswald had only two horses. She collected them and Gytha before leaving and heading to the south. She rode one horse, with Offa riding in front of her; Gytha rode the other one with Æbbe. By the time the alarm had been raised, they were two miles south of Dùn Add heading for the fishing hamlet at the head of Loch Gilp.
The weather had got even worse. Now there was thunder and lightning as well as heavy rain and soon they were all soaked. However, she daren’t seek shelter anywhere. She needed to put as much distance as possible between them and Dùn Add, and quickly. The one good thing about the downpour was that it would make tracking them difficult.
She hoped that, with the money she had on her, she could pay a fisherman to take her to Ulster and King Fiachnae. She had no idea whether he would prove to be a friend, but she couldn’t think what else to do. As she rode worry gnawed at her over the fate of Oswald and Oswiu. She smiled wryly to herself. As it had turned out, Oswiu was probably safer with his brother than he would have been had he stayed at Dùn Add.
~~~
‘What do we do with these miserable specimens?’ Alaric gestured with his thumb at the prisoners. ‘We need to get going; we could just throw them over the side to see which of them can swim, I suppose.’
‘Tempting, but not very Christian. I don’t mind killing men in battle or even to extract information I need, but wanton slaughter is wrong. No, we need to land them somewhere.’
‘There’s a small settlement at the end of this loch, Oswald,’ one of his warriors, who was standing listening to the exchange, told him.
‘How far?’ he asked, peering into the gloom as dark clouds scudded overhead.
‘No more than a mile or so, I believe.’
‘Very well.’ He dropped his voice so that only Alaric could hear him. ‘We’ll also drop into conversation with the headman that we are bound for Larne. Word of that will get back to Connad and put him off the scent.’
They beached the three birlinns in the shingle near where several fishing currachs were pulled up onto the shore. At first the few inhabitants were wary and about to flee, until Oswald called out to them that they were friends. Hearing their own language reassured them and they approached him.
‘You’ll need to pull your birlinns well up onto the shore, Lord. There’s a bad storm coming.’
Oswald was about to say that he wasn’t afraid of a little rain when a strong gust of wind hit him and nearly blew him off his feet. It was followed by a bolt of lightning which hit the water out in the loch and a tremendous crack of thunder a mere two seconds later. That convinced him that it would be sensible to stay where they were until the storm passed.
There were no more than a dozen or so huts, but everyone managed to cram into one or other of them to shelter from the torrential downpour. Once Oswald had made sure that everyone, even the captives, were safe, he went out again to check that his small fleet were secured on the shore. The tide was coming in and he didn’t want to see them smashed to pieces if they somehow floated away.
Satisfied, he was making his way back to one of the huts when a small boy crashed into him, yelling his name. To his amazement he realised that it was Offa. He hugged the seven-year-old to his chest as the boy threw his arms around his neck and cried; then he looked over the boy’s shoulder to see his mother holding Æbbe in her arms and Gytha leading his two horses.
Once they had all squeezed into one of the huts he was dying to find out what they were doing there, but there were too many ears listening. Similarly, when Acha asked him what brought him there, all he could do was to tell her that he would explain later.
‘It doesn’t matter; what does is that we are all safe.’
‘For the moment,’ Oswald muttered. ‘Connad wants me dead,’ he whispered in her ear.
She nodded, but didn’t reply.
Everyone spent an uncomfortable night, but by dawn the rain had stopped and the wind had died down. To thank him, Oswald made a present of the two horses to the headman and then he released the prisoners.
‘Where are you bound?’ the headman asked as they prepared to leave.
‘To Larne. The shipmaster of one of the other birlinns is the son of the king there.’
‘God speed, then.’
As the three birlinns were pushed off the shingle and then headed south towards the Mull of Kintyre and Domnall Brecc’s hall, Oswald wondered what sort of reception they’d get.
Chapter Seven – The Isle of Arran
621 - 622 AD
Warriors began to gather on the beach near the settlement at the southernmost end of Kintyre, as Oswald’s three ships appeared through light rain that seemed to permeate everything. Although they were rowing against what little wind there was as they rounded the headland, Oswald raised the sail briefly so that they could see that the birlinns were from Dal Riada. The men on shore relaxed a little; however, they remained wary and kept their swords drawn.
‘I am Oswald of Northumbria and this is my mother, Queen Acha, currently guests of the King of Dal Riada. The other ships are captained by Eochaid of the Ulaidh and Mægenræd from Dùn Add,’ Oswald called across the water.
He didn’t feel that he needed to add that, as guests, they appeared to have outstayed their welcome. As they neared the shore he saw what the drizzle had hidden up until then. The settlement was spread up the hillside to a ridge at one side of the bay, but Domnall Brecc’s hall was built on the top of an outcrop of rock that rose almost vertically with a steep cliff on the northern side and the sea on the other three sides. At first he couldn’t see how one could possibly reach it, but later he discovered that a zig-zag path had been cut into the rock.
The almost flat top of the outcrop was protected by a palisade some twelve feet high with a walkway around it; not that it seemed necessary, given the natural defences. The path ended at a small gateway that was designed to admit one man at a time. As the last few feet of the approach path ran directly under the palisade, the place seemed unassailable.
When he arrived Oswald had noticed with surprise that there were seven other birlinns drawn up on the beach and he came to the conclusion that there must be visitors here. Seven would need some four hundred or so warriors to man them and he doubted if there were more that fifteen hundred in the whole of Dal Riada. Certainly Domnall Brecc could muster no more than four hundred, if what he had heard was correct, and many of those would normally be spread throughout the long Kintyre peninsula and on the Isle of Arran.
Oswald, his mother, Eochaid and Mægenræd were allowed to accompany the guard, who had greeted them somewhat suspiciously on their arrival. Their commander led them up the narrow path to the gate with four of Domnall’s men, all armoured and well-armed, at the rear. Oswiu had wanted to go with them, but Acha put her foot down and told him to look after Offa and his sister. He did so, but stared resentfully at her retreating back.
As Oswald had suspected, Domnall
was not alone. Fergus of Islay sat at one side of him and a man he didn’t recognise on the other.
‘Oswald, my Lady, Eochaid, welcome to Dùn Averty. You know Fergus, of course. This is Conmael mac Gilla, the representative of the King of Lorne. Come sit. What brings you to Kintyre?’
‘The treachery of Connad and his lickspittle, Beornwulf. The king set a trap for me but, fortunately, we found out what he was up to and left his men, and those Connad sent to ambush us, stranded on the shores of Loch Fyne.’
‘And what happened to Beornwulf?’ Conmael asked softly.
‘My helmsman cut his throat.’
‘Good! I’d have preferred that he died more painfully, but I’m delighted he’s dead.’
‘Why? He was a treacherous dog, but why is a noble from Lorne so pleased?’
‘Because he betrayed us at the Pass of Brander. He had been given land by our king and he answered the summons to arms together with his men. He brought about forty, which surprised us, but we later found out that many of them were from our enemy. He’d been bribed by Belin map Neithon to hold back and then attack us from the rear. However, we beat him off and he fled, and we then defeated Belin. We didn’t know where he and his curs had fled to. Obviously he sought refuge at Dùn Add -’
‘- and was then given a birlinn and the men to make up a full crew by Connad,’ Oswald finished.
‘It seems that all of us have a grievance against Connad, but that’s not why we are here,’ Domnall broke in. ‘The men of Strathclyde have invaded Arran in two waves, over the Sound of Bute and across the Firth of Clyde from Ardrossan. They have overrun the north of the island and our people – those who survived – have fled to the south.’