Dominic raised his bow again and aimed it at Withred’s head. ‘Release the old man then walk to the hut and get out of my sight until I decide what to do with you. That is my decision. You’ve no other choice. Hesitate and I’ll kill you, be sure of that.’
Withred held on to Simon as the stalemate continued for a moment. Finally, he released him and gently pushed him away. He dropped his sword to the ground and held his hands up. ‘See … I do as you ask,’ he shouted, as he backed towards the building.
Murdoc looked to Dominic who still had his bow under full tension and pointing at Withred. ‘We owe him nothing,’ he said. ‘Remember what these people have done to our families.’
Dominic looked thoughtful as he recalled how Tomas had reacted when speaking of Withred. ‘Yes, they’ve done bad things since arriving on our isle … but maybe not this man. Bear with me on this Murdoc, he could be a great help to us. Don’t forget we are only two men—three now with Simon—against many.’
‘As you will,’ said Murdoc, ‘but I’m not easy with it.’
Dominic lowered his aim and shouted at Withred. ‘Get inside the hut at once before I change my mind, and be sure of this: one wrong move and I will kill you.’
Withred nodded his thanks, then turned and entered the hut.
Murdoc approached Simon, looking concerned. ‘How are you? Martha told us what you both endured, and the day seems to lie heavily upon you.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Simon. ‘Your news of Martha’s rescue has already made me feel better. But tell me more about yourselves. I never expected to be saved by fellow Britons this day.’
Dominic told Simon his own tale; of how he had come to be living for years in the forest. Then he continued with his account of Martha’s liberation and the acquisition of Tomas. Finally, Murdoc recounted the harrowing tale of the massacre in his village.
Simon embraced both men warmly in thanks and consolation, before giving his own account. He ended with the story of the sacking of his village. ‘Like you I was away from the huts when they struck ….’ He paused a moment, a barely perceptible twitch of emotion playing on his face. ‘… like you, I witnessed the slaughter, and don’t wish to see anything like it again.’
Murdoc gave Simon’s arm an empathic squeeze, his look saying I know how you are feeling … believe me I know how you are being plagued right now. ‘The first task then,’ said Murdoc, ‘is to stop the others returning to the east with news of new land to take. I guess we’ve little time to prepare for their return; they must have found other villages by now or, failing that, abandoned their search. We must be ready in either case, although they outnumber us by quite a few.’
‘We’ll use stealth, then,’ said Dominic. ‘Patience and stealth will reduce their numbers as before.’
By late evening, the group, including Martha, Tomas and Ceola, were together at the camp. Simon and Martha had embraced warmly upon their re-union.
Dominic had reasoned they would be safe enough staying in the relative comfort of the outpost as long as they watched the track ahead for signs of the returning raiders. It would then be easy for them to slip into the woods, or return to the tree house if needs be. Dominic and Murdoc would continue with the task of hunting down the invaders one by one.
The Saxons had gifted them a welcome abundance of ponies and some of these grazed contentedly on the lush grasses at the forest edge. Others languished under the open lean-to at the side of the hut, ready to assist in a quick escape if the need arose.
Withred sat alone against the wall of the stone hut. Dominic and Murdoc had allowed him to take the evening air, preferring anyway to keep him in sight.
Martha looked at him and said to the others. ‘I don’t understand that man; he rode with the raiders, yet he’s the only one who showed us any mercy.’
Simon nodded. ‘Yes that is so; the man is a mystery to me as well.’
‘He hates Egbert, that’s for sure,’ said Tomas, ‘and that has to be in his favour. He alone had the power to stop him from running completely mad on the raids. He’s high ranking, I know that.’
Dominic was testing the balance of Withred’s recovered sword as he stood in front of the others. He locked a hard stare on Withred. ‘Yet I would have killed him without thinking,’ he said, ‘and may still do it with his own sword, unless he gives me reason not to.’ He walked over to Withred while the others watched. ‘Well Saxon,’ said Dominic searchingly, ‘what can you offer us, and why should we trust you.’
Withred stood slowly and returned Dominic’s stare. ‘I’m of the Anglii people, I’m not Saxon.’ He looked over to Simon, Martha, Tomas and Ceola. ‘Not that it made much difference on the raids—Angles also committed foul deeds.’ He looked to the woods frowning, as if trying to make sense himself of his reasons for being on this strange isle. He turned again to the waiting huddle of Britons. ‘I came here as a warrior to fight and gain land for my people, I make no excuse for that, but what they have told you is true. I took no part in either rape or wanton killing.’
‘So why would you side with us now?’ asked Dominic. ‘What has changed apart from the desire to save your neck from this sword?’
Withred smiled sadly. ‘They will take this land, make no mistake, but I want no part in how it’s done. I grew up in a country similar to this, and worked the land as a boy. I respect the weak and the old, and that is still how I wish to live my life. If riding against you means I’ve to watch as senseless and brutal acts are committed, then I no longer want a part in it.’ His eyes suddenly blazed with a sincere intensity. ‘Believe me Briton; I’ll fight for you against them because at least it will be man against man.’
Murdoc joined Dominic. ‘We’ve but two choices,’ he mused, ‘kill him or trust him. At first I wanted to kill him, and if the others had not spoken in his favour, or if I had the slightest doubt about his conduct on the raids, he would already be dead.’ He held out his hand and Dominic handed him Withred’s sword. ‘We put our trust in you,’ he said as he handed Withred the sword, ‘don’t betray it.’
‘I thank you,’ said Withred. He pointed to the hut. ‘There are many spare weapons in there that we can use. You didn’t search the cellar before you locked me in. Maybe I’ve already shown I can be trusted.’
Dominic walked into the hut and descended into the cellar. One of the alcoves was piled high with weaponry, including spears, daggers, and axes. He emerged from the hut shortly after, holding two well used but effective swords, one of which he threw to Murdoc. ‘Well, it looks like we’ve more weapons. These swords are worth a year’s harvest and are a great find. Now we all have a weapon, including Martha.’ He looked at Withred. ‘Maybe you can help us after all … Angle.’
Withred looked towards the west, along the line of the track. ‘I know I can, and I’ll not have long to wait to win your trust. They’ll be back, and we need to be ready, although it will be dark soon, and they don’t travel through the forest at night.’
‘We must scout far up the trail by first light then,’ said Dominic, encouraged by Withred’s use of they and we. ‘As soon as we find them we can start the task in hand.’
That night they slept around the fire. Murdoc, Dominic and Withred took turns keeping watch some distance up the westward trail, not willing to chance Egbert’s party travelling back through the night. By first light, the three men met and decided that two of them would head up the trail. One would stay behind to protect the others from any predators, animal or human, that might wander into the camp.
Dominic stayed behind, and after Murdoc and Withred had left, he walked to the edge of the clearing and brushed a layer of dirt off the floor to reveal a wooden hatch—this he lifted and removed. Below was a deep, empty, stone-lined storage pit. Once used by the Romans to descend into the pit, its rotting ladder had served Dominic as firewood long ago.
The others were awake now, preparing breakfast as Dominic went about the business of throwing scraps of food into the pit. He whistled cheerfully
as he went about his work, winking mysteriously at the bemused Tomas as he passed by him by. ‘Come on lad,’ he said, ‘you can help me find any scraps of meat that lie around, fresh or rotten, and throw them into the pit.’
Tomas eagerly agreed to help, and went about his task with gusto, delighted to be of use to Dominic, whom he had begun to worship with his boyish enthusiasm.
Ceola chattered softly to a pair of toy twig-men on the dusty floor, while Martha and Simon sat by the fire, watching Dominic and Tomas go about their task.
‘A tidy one is Dominic,’ laughed Simon.
‘Yes and they will find much to throw into the pit,’ said Martha. ‘The entire surrounding bush is littered with bits of old meat from many meals.’
After they had partly filled the pit with all the throwaway scraps they could find, Dominic placed a thin hide cover over it, having dragged the original heavy, wooden hatch to one side. This done, he brushed over a layer of soil, then leaf litter, to complete the task.
He put his arm round Tomas’ shoulder. ‘Thanks for your help lad, now I’ll show you how to use a bow.’
He entered the hut and searched the underground storage area. Tomas’ face lit up when Dominic emerged a while later with a bedraggled, straw figure in the shape of a deer. They walked to the edge of the clearing and Dominic placed the dummy in front of a tree and began to teach Tomas the art of the arrow.
The next couple of days went by with little change to camp routine. Dominic, Murdoc and Withred took turns to watch the track or hunt, while the others busied themselves around the camp.
The relationship between Murdoc and Martha had begun to develop and grow stronger. She met him each day as he returned from his watch, and one evening she slipped her hand in his as they walked back to the clearing. Murdoc, at first, felt a deep guilt as he thought of his late wife, Meggan, whom he had loved deeply, but he could not deny the warmth he felt at Martha’s touch.
He had spent many happy years with Meggan, and although village life could sometimes be uncomfortable and tough, he had always hoped he would spend the rest of his days with her in an unchanging, pastoral world. He could not deny that Martha was a truly beautiful woman with a sweet nature, and for now he was happy to let things develop naturally between them. Ceola, for her part, had taken to Martha immediately, and would sit between Murdoc and Martha in the evenings when the group conversed around the fire.
Withred and Simon had also started to get on well together, and spoke at length about their varied lives as they went about their tasks.
That night the group slept around the dying embers of the fire, and there was no movement in the camp. Murdoc and Withred were up the trail on their watch. It was Dominic who awoke first as he heard a distant snuffling. He was quickly on his feet, his sword ready as he saw a bulky shadow slowly amble towards the stinking food pit at the edge of the camp. There was a roar and terrific commotion as the shadow disappeared into the pit, having fallen through its flimsy covering.
Dominic ran over and looked down at the grunting bear, which reared to its full height, then crouched and sprang upwards in an attempt to jump to its freedom. Dominic leaned back slightly but stood his ground, justified in his confidence that the pit was deep enough to contain the animal. After several more furious attempts to jump out, the bear began to pace around the limited space of the pit floor. The others were now awake and joined Dominic nervously at the edge of the pit.
Tomas turned his terrified gaze from the bear and looked at Dominic in alarm. ‘How are we to stay here with that in the pit?’ he said.
Dominic looked relaxed as he looked at the bear, then nodded towards a thick, branched bough that lay nearby. ‘No need to fear it Tom, it can’t get out, until I allow it to with the help of that branch. First, though, it will feed, and when it’s earned its freedom it can go on its way.’
Simon placed a protective arm around Martha as they looked down at the bear. He frowned, as he looked at Dominic. ‘Earned its freedom—what do you mean?’
‘I mean I’ll let it go when it has served us,’ said Dominic enigmatically, as he peered into the pit, hands on knees.
Tomas looked unconvinced and, that night, settled as far away from the bear pit as he possibly could.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After killing the boy, Egbert had galloped into the forest in a fit of hysteria, shouting at the trees and slashing at the vegetation with his war ax.
Wlensling looked at Cissa, a grim cast to his eyes. ‘I fear he’s mad Cissa. I never thought I’d be glad to get back to the east and Osric.’
‘As long as he directs his devilry at the Britons, then I don’t give a shit,’ said Cissa. ‘The whelp would’ve died or been taken to the slave markets next year anyway.’
The men halted as their ponies took the opportunity to graze. They waited for Egbert’s bloodlust to abate. When he eventually returned to the group, he was pale and drawn.
He looked at Wlensling. ‘You’ll take the bulk of the men back to Osric,’ he said, ‘but not the way we came. I want you to return by skirting the edge of the forest. That way, you may find more villages for next years raids, and that will save us time. I’ll return to Withred at the clearing, along with Cissa and one other man.’
He looked at the group milling around him, and pointed at a burly youth no older than twenty years. ‘You Hereward will ride with myself and Cissa, and will stay to provision the wolf-man’s storage camp alongside the others over winter. We camp here tonight and ride in the morning.’
Four days later, a sombre minded Egbert dismounted his pony and led it through a badly eroded section of the track. ‘I remember this,’ he said, ‘we had difficulty with the mounts here before. We draw near to the camp I think.’
As darkness approached, it was Cissa, riding ahead who first saw the glow of the fire through the trees in the distance. He waited for the others to reach him. ‘It seems we’ll be dining on fresh meat before the day’s out.’
Egbert frowned. ‘I hope you’re right, otherwise we’ll have to roast the old goat on the spit.’
Cissa shifted uneasily on his pony. ‘Talking of the Britons, what are we to do with them? Are we to kill them as you said before we left?’
Egbert’s eyes glittered icily. ‘The old one I’ll kill as soon as he’s prepared the evening meal for us. I intend to leave in the morning and get back quickly to Osric, and I’m not leaving Withred with a good cook. The woman, I’ll take back to Osric as a gift, and compensation for that lost rat, Tomas. Doubtless, I’ll have her practice her duties on me before I hand her over. Look, we are approaching the camp.’
They dismounted and walked into the cleared square. Hereward tethered the ponies alongside the other mounts under the lean-to.
Simon was at the spit where a haunch of venison was cooking slowly. Occasionally, a rivulet of fat ran down the meat and dripped into the fire, causing a small swirling cloud of black smoke to rise.
Martha stood by the trickle of water that ran down the bluff beside the hut. She was filling a leather flask with water. No one else was in sight.
Egbert looked towards the hut entrance. ‘Withred, show yourself—it’s me, Egbert, and I’ve got good news.’
It was a moment before Withred stepped out. ‘Egbert,’ he said cautiously, ‘you need to know something.’
Dominic, hiding nearby with Murdoc, tensed upon hearing this. ‘The stinking traitor,’ he hissed, as he raised his bow towards Withred, ‘I knew we shouldn’t have put our trust in him.’
Egbert stared at Withred and looked hastily around.
‘You need to know,’ continued Withred, ‘that your timing for the feast is almost magical.’ He started to clap slowly in mock appreciation, and nodded towards Simon who attended the roasting spit. ‘See, the roast is almost ready. It seems that you’ve not lost your talent for sniffing out a feed, eh fat belly, even after days in the wilderness.’
Dominic lowered his bow as Murdoc slowly exhaled.
‘Y
es it’s true that I’m hungry,’ said Egbert, ‘but where are the men?’
Withred nodded towards the forest edge. ‘Out hunting,’ he said, ‘it’s been all I could do to keep them from the woman.’
‘You’ve served me well then,’ said Egbert, smirking at Martha who quickly averted her gaze and busied herself with her chores. ‘Did you see how the sow smiled at me then? She has a fever for me. I think it would put a sharp edge on my appetite if I fucked her before I eat.’ Hereward stood beside him now. A yellow grin split Egbert’s beard as he slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come, you can hold her still for me and watch a master at work.’
Martha, aware of Egbert’s intention, turned to face him and slowly backed away. Hereward, eager to perform his duties for Egbert, stumbled in his haste as he moved towards Martha, then fell from sight as he crashed through the hide cover into the bear pit.
Seeing this, Egbert was able to avoid following Hereward into the pit. His shock at unfolding events intensified when Dominic’s arrow narrowly missed his head. With surprising agility, he rolled over on the dusty floor of the clearing, aware that a second arrow would follow. This time the missile slapped into the meat of his thigh, just as Cissa, who had observed events unseen at the edge of the clearing, rode forward grasping the halter of Egbert’s mount.
As hideous screams emerged from the pit, Cissa was able to pull Egbert to his feet so that he was able to throw himself clumsily over the back of his pony. Cissa savagely rode his own mount out of the clearing, whilst dragging Egbert’s pony behind him into the darkening forest, as two more of Dominic’s arrows clattered into the trees close by.
Murdoc, who had been hiding nearby, hurled his spear towards the vanishing ponies, but to no avail. He continued to run into the gloom of the forest in pursuit of the pair but stopped in response to Dominic’s shout. ‘No further, it’s futile—you mustn’t follow! Don’t forget there are more of them unaccounted for. We can’t leave the camp unprotected.’
The Red And Savage Tongue (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) Page 10