by Griff Hosker
“Then consider them a gift from me to you to remind you of our kinship.”
The bond was made and, when we sailed three days later, there was sadness all around. All that is save for the Bishop who was more than happy to see the pagans depart. I watched as he cursed us from the harbour wall as we left.
Chapter 12
It had taken us two days to construct the stalls in the hold to ensure the safety of the valuable horses. We had prepared two but had not known how many we would be able to buy. Llenlleog was young but he knew his horses and he made sure that the animals would not be distressed on the journey north. His own horse, Eliane, had been brought too. Llenlleog chose to sleep in the hold with the horses. He had shaken his head and smiled when we suggested he might share the cabin with the other equites. “I will rest easier if I am close. If they become upset I shall sing to them.”
That was how we knew when the animals were fretting; we heard the voice of Llenlleog drifting up from the hold. He had a fine voice but more than that it was soothing. It proved effective each time it was heard.
Pol was happier about the new alliance rather than the horses. “It is good to know that we are not alone.”
“They cannot come to aid us Pol. They, too, have their own war to fight.”
“It does not matter, Warlord. Before we met them we thought that the world was Saxon and was closing in like the walls of a tomb. We now know it is not. Gawan and Myrddyn will make much of this.”
He was right, of course. However, the negative side of me, the side which sometimes saw things half empty, also saw that both peoples had somewhere to flee to if they were overrun. I suspected it would be we who would be flying to the land the Romans had called Armorica.
The autumn weather proved to be precocious and unpredictable. Sometimes the wind was on our beam and we almost flew across the waves. The next day would see it constantly in our face and we would have to tack, endlessly, back and forth. When we reached the Scillonia Insula the winds were so bad that Daffydd was forced to take shelter between two of the larger islands. We anchored with two strong sea anchors. He turned to his first mate, “Go ashore and see if there is any water.”
I shook my head, “The equites and I will do that. You and your crew have slaved for days. Let them rest and we will do something useful for a change.” In truth we were all grateful to be off the pitching and tossing ship.
Llenlleog came with us. “I will see if I can get some grass for them to eat. Even a handful each would be better than nothing.”
We jumped into the sea. The sheltered anchorage and the ship itself afforded some protection from the waves but we were all well soaked before we reached the beach. There was a hill in the middle of the island and a few scrubby and stunted trees struggled to rise above the skyline. I pointed, “If there is fresh water then it will be there.”
As we headed up the hill I noticed that there were tracks on the beach. The wind and the rain had made it hard to see if they were animal or human but both required caution. I drew my sword. When we reached the top Llenlleog found the grass he wanted. He took off his cloak and used it as a container for the grass. The rest of us searched for water.
“Here, Warlord,” Pelas voice drifted over from a cairn of rocks.
We joined him and saw a small spring bubbling up. Pol put his hand down to taste it. “It is good.”
“The problem we have is how to fill the barrel.”
Osgar smiled, “I would think, Warlord, that we use our hands.” He took the bung from the barrel and, after picking up a handful of water from the spring he poured it into the hole.
One of the other equites, Belas, said, “But that will take hours!”
Pol laughed, “And you have somewhere important to go have you, Belas?”
We took it in turns to collect the water. The wild wind whipped the occasional flurries of rain into our faces. Occasionally it would stop and on one of those occasions I caught a whiff of smoke. I looked to the ship to see if it came from there but that was in the wrong direction. “I smelled smoke.”
“Are you certain, Warlord? There is nothing on this bleak little rock.”
“Yes Osgar. My nose does not deceive me.” The barrel was almost full. “Pelas and Pol come with me. The rest of you continue to fill the barrel.” Llenlleog had collected his grass and we saw him in the rocks collecting shellfish. He was a resourceful youth.
The island was about one mile in length and half a mile wide. It was hard to see where any fire would be. We searched the island from one end to the other. Even my old friend Pol was beginning to doubt my sanity. “Perhaps you wished for a fire to dry out your clothes.”
I heard the trace of mockery in his voice, “Perhaps. The next time this rain stops we will stop and sniff the air.” Almost as though I had commanded it the rain stopped and my two companions dutifully sniffed like a pair of hunting dogs.
Suddenly Pelas shouted, “The Warlord is right! I can smell smoke too.”
“Spread out and look down rather than up.”
We made our way down the slope. The equites filling the barrel were just thirty paces from us. I could see their curious looks. It was Pol who found it. He waved his arm to attract my attention. When we reached him he pointed to a jumble of rocks. There looked to be a hole there. I nodded and, with Saxon Slayer held before me I walked towards it. The closer I came the more I could see that it was a cave. That was where the smoke was coming from. It appeared to be pitch black inside; I had expected the glow from a fire. I held my left hand out to find the walls. As the cave became lower, so that I had to crouch, so it also turned right and I saw a glow. There was a fire and the smell of smoke was stronger.
A thin voice crackled in the dark, “You can sheath your sword, Warlord, unless you are afraid of one woman.”
I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Who was here and speaking my name? I edged forward and I heard the voice cackle, “Still afraid? If I were Edwin or another Saxon then you would be attacked already. Your brother would not be afraid of the dark or the cave. Come we will not harm you.”
I felt Pol’s hand on my back. I must have stopped. This was ridiculous. I was the Warlord. Was I truly afraid of a hole in the ground and a woman’s voice? I stepped forward ready to skewer anyone who tried to strike me.
As I stepped into the open space I saw the fire and the back of a woman. I remembered the cave we had found with the stone witches. Was this place the same? Then I remembered that Gawan and Myrddyn had survived a night there. The thought of my two mystics gave me the courage to step into the light. The woman turned around and smiled. It could have been Aileen’s sister!
She smiled. “Sheathe your sword. You are safe. Tell your companions that I will not eat them either… yet.” She laughed and her laughter seemed to fill the cave.
I did as she had said. “You said we; where are your companions?”
“They are all around. This is the world of the spirits.” She smiled at me, “Your father’s spirit and your grandmother’s are both here. If you were Myrddyn or your brother then you would hear them.” She shook her head, sadly, “I am sorry you have not the gift. If you had then it would give you comfort. Now sit. Your clothes are wet and the barrel is not yet full.”
Pol and Pelas both had weapons drawn. “Put away your weapons my friends. It seems we are expected.”
There was a pot on the fire and the woman took a ladle and filled three bowls. She handed one to me and a wooden spoon. “Eat.” She hand Pol and Pelas the other two. I hesitated and she laughed. “You wonder if it is poisoned?” She reached over and took the spoon from me. She sipped some. “A little hot but you can always blow upon it. Now eat.”
I took the spoon and ate some of the shellfish stew. It was good. While we ate I studied her. I had said woman but she was barely that. I took her to be seventeen or eighteen summers. Had I not known that Aileen lay in the infirmary with a partly shaven head I would have sworn that she sat before me. She
smiled at me as I ate. I put down the empty bowl.
“Thank you….?”
“You need not know my name. You were sent here to speak with me.”
“Who sent me here? The storm drove us to shelter here.”
She nodded enigmatically, “Just as the other storm drove you to find your kinsmen and the horses. Do not be so arrogant Warlord. You do not decide your actions. The spirits work in their own mysterious way and you are tools only.”
“Then why am I here?”
“So that I can speak with you and guide you. Your world is about to change.” She looked sad. “You are going to lose. The Saxon sea will engulf you. You have held them back long enough but there will come a time when you will be defeated. It will not be for some time but defeat is coming.”
My head slumped forward and Pol shouted, “Do not listen to her, Warlord, she is a witch and she is sent to trap you with her words.”
The woman stood and she seemed to fill the cave. Her voice echoed around its walls, “Of course I am a witch! Just as Myrddyn is a wizard and I am on the side of the Warlord and our people!”
She subsided and smiled at me. It encouraged speech. “If we are to lose then why fight on? Should we flee to our kinsmen?”
“No, for they will lose too, but there is hope and the hope is within you; it is in your blood. Your father’s sacrifice was to buy time. You must use that time well. There will come another warlord long after you are dead and gone and he will recover your homeland. Your blood will save Britannia.”
“But you say my blood; you mean Gawan and his children?”
“No, I mean your children. The spirits do not talk to you but they will to your children if you choose well.”
I was confused, “Choose? Who?”
She did not answer me but, instead, closed her eyes. She began to speak, almost to chant and the words were not directed at me. “You are right. His heart is pure but his mind and his eyes are closed.” A silence filled the cave and I felt a chill creep up my spine. A voice from inside me said, ‘Close your eyes.’ I did not recognise the voice but it seemed familiar. I did as I was told. I saw, when I closed my eyes, a woman and she played with a child. I saw the child leave her and grow until he became my father. He disappeared and then I saw Aileen. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Pol and Pelas looking terrified.
“We thought you had gone! You went still and began to murmur.” Pol suddenly whirled around. “Where is the witch? Pelas take a brand and search for her!”
“No, Pol. I can see now. I understand. Let us go, our men will be worried.”
“But where is the witch?”
I shrugged, “I know not. But I have had a glimpse into the world of Gawan and Myrddyn. We have much to do.”
As we made our way back to the ship I thought of all the questions I should have asked. She had said we would lose. When? She had said my blood would save Britannia. How? I would have to ask Myrddyn to dream again under Wyddfa. I now knew who the voice was. That was my grandmother. I also knew who would be the mother of my children: Aileen. I just had to turn the hate into something else.
Miraculously, as soon as we boarded the ‘Gwynfor’ with the water, grass and the shellfish the storm abated and we were able to sail north. Pelas could not remain silent and he told the others of what he had seen. Fortunately he did not speak her prophesy. I would swear the two of them to secrecy. If my men thought there was no hope then they would not fight.
“We saw no one leave the cave, Warlord.”
I shrugged, “Perhaps she was a messenger from the spirit world. We will ask Myrddyn when we return. Osgar see to the water with the other men. Llenlleog, see to the horses.” When they had gone I drew Pol and Pelas with me to the bows of the ship. “You must swear never to reveal what was spoken in the cave. It remains with us.” They both nodded. I took out Saxon Slayer and held the hilt towards them.
They both grasped it and said, “I swear.”
I sheathed it and Pelas asked, “But are we to lose?”
“Remember what Myrddyn said, the spirits do not speak of now but the future. We keep fighting and you two must watch over my children for they are the future too.”
“What children, Warlord?”
“The children I shall have, Pelas. And that is how I know that the end is not imminent for there are, as yet, no children. But there will be.”
We tacked our way up towards Mona and we wore our armour. There were Hibernian pirates in these waters and we would not take any chances. I was relieved when the island of Mona loomed up in the early hours of one of the late autumn mornings. I would not have liked to take that voyage later in the year for the seas were, even now, becoming more violent.
Llenlleog took a great deal of time to ensure the safety of the horses when they were off loaded. I was pleased for it showed that he thought of them as valuable as we did. They looked the worse for wear when they stepped ashore. Their legs shook and their coats were dull. It would take some time for them to regain their condition. When the mares came into season then we would begin to breed. Although we intended to use the horses we had bought for the bulk of our herd I intended to use Wolf with the mares we already had. The line would not be as good but his blood would make them all that much better. I would find horse masters just to watch over my most valuable of stallions.
We led the horses towards my fortress and the stables. We would base them here until they had foaled and then I would think about moving them close to the Narrows. The land there was better for horses.
As we approached the gates I saw Myrddyn waiting for me and, as the sun peered out from behind a cloud it shone on the half shaven head of Aileen. Wyrd.
Even before I had bathed I went with Llenlleog to see to the safety of the new horses. Myrddyn and Aileen followed us. I had just greeted them both with a smile. Neither seemed discomfited by my attitude and both smiled. It was eerie. Myrddyn had anticipated the needs of the stallion and the mares. There were two old warriors waiting in the stables. They had both served as equites but wounds had meant they could no longer fight. Both Griffith and Ban knew horses. I would impress upon them the need for security and care. They were guarding gold.
I went to the bath house and was joined by Pol. Our time in Constantinopolis had taught us the benefits of a bath. It was not just the cleansing of the body but the cleansing of the mind. Our kin across the waters used the Roman baths still and as we lay in the hot, steaming water of the caldarium I reflected on that kinship. How many others were there who were of our people? The Angles and the Saxons had succeeded because of their affinity. Had Morcant Bulc not betrayed King Urien all those years ago in the last great alliance who knows what might have happened?
We lay in the tepidarium and I felt more relaxed. “So we fight on even though we know that we will lose Warlord?”
“Do you remember those philosophers in the libraries when we lived in the east?”
“Aye.”
“They spoke of the meaning of life.”
Pol laughed, “They seemed to just talk about life rather than living it.”
“You are right and we do live it. The woman in the cave has set me to thinking. My father could have died when the Saxons raided Stanwyck but he lived. His mother died but she spoke to him and guided him. Through my father Gawan and I were born to carry on the fight. I think that is a kind of victory. We ensure that our children live and through them we shall win.”
“But we have no children.”
I laughed, “Then let us make some!”
He looked at me and nodded, “You have chosen a woman?”
“I think she has been chosen for me. Think back to the cave; who did the woman remind you of?”
“Aileen.”
“Aileen.”
“And yet she hated you.”
“I know but I feel that she was chosen for me and so I must win her.”
“You could just take her.”
”Pol, you of al
l people should know I would never do that.”
“Others would.”
“Others were not chosen to be the Warlord. Come we will dress. I would speak with Lann Aelle and Aelle. We have much to tell them.”
Osgar and the others had all been talking of the island and our voyage. Poor Llenlleog was being inundated with questions as we entered the hall. There was silence as we walked in. I saw Aengus with a crutch and he was seated already at the table. He tried to rise. “No, my friend. You need not rise. I am no king. It is good to see you walking.”
He laughed and shook his crutch, “Hobbling.”
“And there are many who are in the Otherworld who would dream of hobbling. You have been spared and it is for a reason.”
“Your healer is a mighty man. He lowered his voice. “Did I hear aright that he took out some poison from inside Aileen’s head?”
“He took something but I know not what it was. She is well and that is all that matters.”
The feast was a lively one. As I had expected my men embellished the story of our descent into the underworld and our meeting with a spirit. Only Pol, Pelas and I knew the truth. I would tell Myrddyn when time allowed. For the present I was just pleased that we had succeeded completely for once. We had sought a stallion and brood mares and we had them. We now needed the time to bring on the horses which might delay the inevitable.
After we had eaten Myrddyn caught my eye and I followed him to my solar. He was seated as I walked in. “You have much to tell me, Warlord.”
I laughed, “And you know much already old man!”
He inclined his head to one side, “Perhaps but tell me anyway. It will reveal much to me.”
I sighed and told him all from the first storms which had driven us south to the meeting with the woman in the cave.
“And you have chosen Aileen?”
“No, she was chosen for me and you know that.”
He laughed, “I can see you have been with the spirits, however briefly. I told you that there was a connection between you and her.”
“And you knew that we would lose.”