by Sam Taw
Aebba rode next to the cart as I drove, the twins ahead, and Paega behind keeping his beady eye on the carcasses in the back. I have travelled this short track countless times for many of my long summers, and yet this journey seemed to take forever. Every now and then, I would begin a discussion on an unrelated topic, only to have Aebba answer in one or two words before returning to his silent musings. Nothing would shake him from his thoughts.
When at last we sighted the bend in the forest leading to the compound gates, I chivvied the horse to speed our return. The watchman called to the roundhouses belonging to the Lady Eseld and Ruvane Cryda. They all stood outside the Long Hut to welcome us home. Paega overtook us all and cantered up to his mother. His sisters did not appear pleased that he’d returned. They stood next to Eseld with their arms folded across their chests, pouting. My best guess would be that with Eseld’s beloved first born away from camp, the sisters finally shared some of her attention.
Paega leapt down from his horse and touched his forehead to his mother, before nodding his greeting to the Ruvane Cryda. “Well, Mother,” he preened. “I told you I would bring that auroch bull back in pieces, didn’t I?” He tucked his hand under Eseld’s elbow and led her to the back of the stinking cart. Eseld curled her lip at the stench and batted at the swarming flies.
“So I see, child. You have been brave.” She exclaimed.
“No, mother. I’m not a child any longer. I am a warrior. A man of the tribe.”
Cryda greeted her sons with more affection and quiet praise. They each rolled their eyes at the firstborn’s boast.
Aebba dismounted, pushed past the gathering crowd and stomped into the Long Hut. “Brea! Ale…now!”
Eseld raised her voice above the hubbub and announced, “I have ordered a massive feast, all elders are invited this night, and meats and ale will be served to all the families within the camp palisades.” There was a subdued level of cheering, some tapped their feet against the boardwalks in faint praise of her generosity. Other’s melted away into their huts. All I could think about was how she was favouring those within our walls who were able to feed themselves. Those families who’d lost their menfolk outside the compound gates, living in green shelters and scavenging what food the forest could provide, needed her generosity more.
I slid down from the cart and followed Aebba into the Long Hut. He’d kept me out of his plans since the hunt. How was I to know what I should tell folk if they should ask?
“Well, Nephew. It’s done. Now what?”
“Eh? Oh, you want me to make good on our bet. Fine, don’t badger me. I’ll order the smith to forge new knives for your kit.” Aebba pulled off his shoes and thrust them at Brea in exchange for the ale she’d brought for him.
“Thank you, my Chief, but that wasn’t what I was talking about. What will you do about the boys? You have to admit that what happened was far from the honour of a Dumnoni warrior, from any of our clans.”
Aebba shooed Brea from the Long Hut, lowering his voice. “What would you have me do, admit that Paega is a devious little shit and not worth the drippings from my nose? I can see Eseld taking that one on the chin, can’t you?” His flat tone and quizzical brow matched his sarcasm.
“So, what will you do with him?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Whatever I do, it’s likely to rile the priests and result in them thundering in here demanding sacrifices and Cernonnus knows what else besides. Having one priestess in the compound is bad enough, let alone all her kyjyan family too.”
“Then the feast must go ahead. We will just have to suffer the strutting and preening from Paega and Eseld. I can’t imagine Tallack and Blydh keeping quiet about him though.” I turned to leave, exhausted by the entire trip.
“They at least have Cryda’s nobility and breeding. The boys will do as I command. Get some rest, Aunt. This night will be as painful as watching Paega butcher that bull”
It was a fair estimate of our night ahead. As I left the Long Hut, Paega was ordering a number of slaves to process the hide and de-flesh the skull of the bull. Eseld clung to his arm the entire time, touching the stubble regrowth on his scalp and tutting at his unkempt appearance. Cryda returned to her hut, taking the twins with her. I had no intention of getting stuck with the valiant warrior, so scuttled across the planks to my house.
There is nothing like returning home after a troublesome journey. My hut was precisely how I’d left it, except for one thing. My hidden trove of tin was missing. Someone had entered and stolen my ingots.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The sun sank low in the sky, and rich smells wafted across the compound from the Long Hut roasting pits. There was no doubt that auroch would be the main dish of the evening. I cursed my stomach for grumbling in response. Dressing in my best tunic, I searched one last time for the missing tin, then waddled over to the feast.
Eseld had out-done herself this time. The room was decorated in lavish twisted vines, with meadow flowers woven into the trusses. It was almost as festive as the spring festival, and more so than even her own binding ceremony to Aebba. The elders and their families sat in rows closest to the main door. Wenna and Derwa waited for me to sit next to them on the opposite end of Eseld and Brea’s table, beneath that of the Chief’s. Aebba was not in his seat, and neither was Cryda. Both the Ruvane and Metern of our illustrious tribe, were late.
The twins sat next to their mother’s chair on the top table, glaring at Paega, who’d moved his seat so close to Aebba’s it gave him the appearance of presiding over us all. The cooks entered with bowls of warm bread and butter, delivering them to each table while we waited.
“Mother, I asked for the bull’s head to be made the centre piece in the decorations. Where is it?” Paega screeched, determined to show off his prize.
“Sweet son, it is too large to fit in this hall. The slaves have already begun the de-fleshing.” Eseld murmured, grinning to the elders and their wives. I ripped a hunk of bread from our loaf and offered it to Wenna. She took it from me, spreading thick goat’s butter on the top with a wooden paddle.
“Have you had fun with your mother while I’ve been away?” I asked the girls. Derwa ignored me, playing with a new necklace made of tin beads. I eyed them suspiciously. Surely, little Derwa would not have stolen my tin to make such a thing? She is the daughter of a Metern, who had unlimited access to our mines, why would she? I pushed it from my mind, chastising myself for my accusing thoughts.
Wenna answered my question. “Actually, Aunt Mel, she’s been a nightmare. We thought that a couple of days without Paega, she would notice us for a change. Instead, all we heard was, Paega used to like this, and Paega is so good at such and such. Honestly, if I hear his name one last time, I swear I’ll stick a spike through her face.”
“Wenna!” I cried, shocked at her vicious humour, at least I think she was joking.
The bread was all eaten by the time Aebba and Cryda arrived to take their seats on the top bench, overlooking us all. He nodded to Brea, who signalled the slaves standing at the rear door to bring in the dishes. The first to arrive, took two strong men to carry. As I predicted, the main course was a huge joint of auroch beef, drenched in gravy and surrounded by roasted roots.
The slaves attempted to lift it onto the top table, but Aebba waved it away. “Did you cook any duck? Or goose, either will do. Bring me duck.” The slaves beetled away confused.
“You will not eat my success, Father?” Paega whined. “The meat will give you such power.”
“I want duck to eat. My gut is not feeling up to beef this night.”
Eseld and Paega exchanged glances, his of fury, her’s of panic.
After Aebba’s refusal to eat the beast, Cryda followed suit, and then so did the twins. The slaves carried the massive wooden platter to virtually every table, and each time they were met with shakes of the head. In the end, only Paega and his mother accepted bowls heaped up with the meat. The pipers kept their eyes on Aebba for his signal to play, but he kept
his sight lowered and picked at the duck leg. It felt to me as awkward as our night at Doccombe, only with many more people suffering alongside me.
When the savouries were finished and cleared away, we dined on honey cakes and wild raspberries. These were well received by all. Wenna had two. Derwa ate three so quickly, she moaned of having gut ache soon after. It was not long before the elders and all of our kinfolk expected Aebba to make a speech. I could tell he’d been avoiding it, but it was his duty to announce the boys as menfolk and warriors. It was also the moment to announce their placements in our ordered tribal clans.
Aebba took a lengthy guzzle of ale, wiped his sleeve across his mouth, and then shoved out his chair with the back of his knees. As soon as he was on his feet, the entire hall hushed to silence.
“The challenge was set, and completed. As most of you are now aware, the auroch bull that took the life of young Branok was killed. His family will have that comfort at least if nothing else.” A small rumble of stomping feet, expressed the elders’ approval.
Pausing to choose his words carefully, Aebba continued. “The mighty beast fought until the bitter end, and I thank Cernonnus that none of my sons were injured in the attack. While Paega was responsible for the final killing blow, it was a collective effort, and one that I will never forget for the rest of my days.”
He turned to face the twins. “Blydh, son. You have the courage to stand alone and the wisdom to protect others of your tribe. You are a strategic warrior of which we can all be proud. You will lead the Hunter Clan, fending off raiders at the borders and securing the safety of our settlers far and wide. From this day, you will be known as Blydh the Bold.”
The elders, their wives, and all our family but Paega and Eseld, cheered and stamped their feet, banged their cups against the tables and yelled their blessings to Blydh. It brought tears to my eyes, the love and respect they have for someone so young.
Aebba raised a cup to Blydh and winked. “I’m proud of you, son.” When the noise died down, it was Tallack’s turn. Aebba put down his ale and placed his hand on his chest. “Tallack, you are fearless. You have the grit and determination to get any job done, no matter the risk. Your silver tongue can charm the larks from the trees, the fish from the streams and the gold from any crook. Son, from now on, you will be known as Tallack the Daring. You will lead the Sea Warriors, taking our tin across the ocean to seek out new trading alliances. I give you the trust of the tribe to bargain in my name.” He swiped his cup and held it in cheers to Tallack, amid another raucous round of stamping and yelling. He too, deserved every moment of applause.
Aebba swallowed hard, and turned to his first born. “Paega. You are like no other in this world. You see problems before they arise, you find the gaps in the defences, the gold among plain rocks. You know when to exploit an opportunity to your advantage and can turn tragedy into victory. From this day, you will be known as Paega the Wily.” He drank more ale, out of courtesy than celebration. The elders made a feeble attempt at cheering and stamping but it was clear that Aebba had left out a crucial part of his speech. Paega was left peering around the room, wondering if he’d been rewarded or criticised.
“And what is his position to be, husband?” Eseld snapped, flicking her fingers over her palm to speed him along.
“Patience, wife. I was just getting to that. Paega, I have a special mission for you that will take all your powers of cunning to achieve. You are to take a group of warriors under the emblem of truce to the Metern of the Durotriges, and begin peace talks. You will sweeten the deal with an offer to bind yourself to one of his daughters, or if they are too young, his sister. In short, you must do whatever it takes to reach an accord with our tribal neighbours.”
Paega’s chin dropped open, his shoulders slumped. “Mother?”
“That is not a fit reward for killing the biggest auroch of all time. He must become a clan leader like the twins. Give him the mines. You are not going to send my son away to be slaughtered by those animals. People say they lay with their horses.”
“This is not a matter for discussion, wife. Sit down and keep your mouth shut, or I’ll shut it for you. Paega will be my emissary of peace. He will learn a great deal from this mission, and will return even wilier.”
The twins tittered aloud, muttering, “Mother?” in a whiny childlike tone.
“More like Paega the Pointless, if you ask me.” Tallack said, loud enough for his sisters and I to hear. Cryda smirked behind the back of her hand.
“Or Paega the Pitiful.” Blydh chuckled.
Aebba shot them a silencing glare. Determined to put an end to the whole disappointing fiasco, he said, “Paega, you will deliver more than half of the auroch meat to the family of Branok in the morning. They will taste the flesh of the creature that killed him.”
Paega opened his mouth to complain, but closed it again for fear of Aebba losing his temper. Despite the roaring fire, the air in the Long Hut was as frigid as ice. None of the elders dare speak to break the deadlock. Not even Eseld had the courage to take on the Metern when his anger spilled over into rage.
I waved at the pipers, signalling them to play, banishing the chill with a musical warmth. Gradually, as the ale flowed and tempers eased, the Dumnonii limped through the rest of the night without further disharmony.
The knot in my gut, however remained. Paega is not the only one to see trouble before it happens, I can too. There will be more than we can handle in this compound, and soon. Aebba may have control over the young warriors now, but for how much longer?
When I thought no one was watching me, I slipped out of the Long Hut and headed for my home. Aebba saw me and hurried through the rear door to catch me on the board walks.
“Meliora.” He called.
I stopped, waiting for him to state his reason for halting my progress.
“I just wanted to thank you for... well you know what for.”
My throat tightened with emotion. It was not something I was used to hearing from him. I took his requests to be my duty, still, it was nice to hear his appreciation. “Aren’t you worried about sending Paega to your worst enemies? What if he upsets them and they take him as a hostage?”
“Maybe, but relations are already about as bad as it gets with the Duros, he can’t make it any worse. A dozen warriors will ensure his safety under the banners of peace. He might actually learn something in the process. A little humility wouldn’t go amiss. That boy needs to earn the men’s respect, and he won’t achieve that by hanging on to his mother.”
I nodded my understanding. “From this day on, I will be known as Meliora the Fool.” I smiled, making light of his problems.
“No, Aunt. You could never be described as a fool. Loyal? Definitely. A wise woman? Always, but to me, you’ll forever be my rock in times of trouble.”
***
If you have enjoyed this prequel story, a review would be much appreciated on any of the usual distribution sites.
The first full length novel in the series is entitled, Pagan Death.
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Three lying wives.
Two fated slaves.
One murdered leader.
It’s 700BC and the tribes of Britain are vying for power and metals.
In the South-West, the Dumnonii have a murderer in their midst.
Wise woman, Meliora, knows the signs of poison well. It’s a shameful way to kill a warrior, leaving Aebba the Wild to roam the in-between worlds until he is avenged.
Can she uncover the truth behind her nephew’s death, or will his devious wives silence her once and for all on the matter?
Who will be their next chieftain to rule over all the clans?
Grab the first in the Tribes of Britain series, and immerse yourself in Bronze Age treachery and rituals.
JOIN MY READERS’ GROUP AND RECEIVE THE EXCLUSIVE STORY PAGAN FURY
http://www.carantocpublishing.com/sam-taw
Three unsuitable lovers.
Two valuabl
e metals.
One critical mission.
The Dumnonii have no copper for their forges. Without a new supply, there will be no more bronze weapons for the inevitable battle ahead.
Joint Chieftain, Tallack, must cross the western ocean to negotiate an alliance with the obstinate Dathi of the Ivernii and complete an impossible task to gain his trust.
Can he succeed where once his father failed?
Join the young warrior and his crew in a lust fuelled, intense quest on the shores of Iwerdon and find out for yourself.
This story takes place between book one, Pagan Death, and book two, Pagan Curse. Please be aware that there will be spoilers that might ruin the enjoyment if they are read out of order.
About the Author
Sam Taw is the pen name for fiction author Sam Nash. Sam is committed to delivering novels in two distinct genres, historical thrillers and a unique blend of science fiction and international espionage stories.
She lives in a small market town in the south of Leicestershire, close to where she grew up, but one day dreams of owning a woodland on the Cornish coast.
For information regarding the work of Sam Taw, please visit:
http://www.carantocpublishing.com/sam-taw
For information regarding the work of Sam Nash, please visit:
https://www.samnash.org
Acknowledgements
It’s hard to describe how much I appreciate my family. They are my rocks in times of trouble. Without them, I would cease to function.