by Dan Davis
Herkuhlos smiled to see their attentiveness and he caught Z’ta smiling also. “But I had thought Amra most favoured you, Z’ta. Do you take no interest in her?”
“She’s most taken with Pehur, I believe.”
“Truly?” Herkuhlos was surprised. “But he is so small and Sunhus is a great warrior.”
Z’ta laughed. “He is quick witted where Sunhus is dull.”
Herkuhlos watched and his heart ached to see what his failures had brought to those who had followed him. “Perhaps I should send them away together back to her village,” he muttered, speaking his thought aloud.
“You intend to leave us, lord?” Z’ta asked, mishearing him.
“Certainly, I cannot stay here. Ghebol’s warband will be searching for me and eventually they might even scour the edges of the seas. No, I cannot stay here, though your people have been generous. When do you leave for your island, Z’ta?”
“Sif plans to leave on the tide tonight but as we have food and water to gather it is more likely to be tomorrow or even the day after.” He smiled. “She was ever impatient.”
“Then it seems the time for us all to part ways. Do me one last service, Z’ta and bring the others here so that I may speak to them about my wishes for us all.”
He ran off and soon enough brought them back with him to where Herkuhlos waited atop the dune.
“Lord,” Pehur said as they drew near. “How may we serve you?”
He had regained his old strength and brightness of eye and that was a relief to see. If nothing else, at least he had succeeded in saving Pehur. Beside him, Sunhus stood as if ready to do battle, still loyal even after everything that he had lost by following him. That loyalty spoke of a generosity of spirit and perhaps a dull-witted mind. Poor Amra still stood between them, so far from her home in the south. A lone Furun amongst Heryos, Seal People, and Kalekka, isolated by her sex and her language, struggling through her lameness and still she went on with her head held up with at least two good men attending to her every need.
Looking at each in turn, he felt great affection for them and he wished that he had been a better lord to them. At least he could see them set on the right path now.
“I have failed,” Herkuhlos said, feeling the weight of the words as he spoke them. “I was not strong enough and I failed and I cannot find victory over Torkos by way of the challenge because he has no honour. And it seems that I cannot lead a warband as they will not follow me and so I must go on alone. So I free you all from service to me and you Pehur, will return with Amra to her village. Z’ta has his own matters to attend to here in the north and Sunhus, I am ashamed that you followed a weak lord who cannot bring you wealth and glory. Perhaps you could escort Pehur and Amra back to her village and then make your way east. There are Heryos there who would welcome a warrior of your strength and you will find a new lord, a chief worthy of you.”
They protested at once and though he tried to silence them they disobeyed him.
“Lord,” Pehur protested, “I am yours for life. I know that you will go on, ageless like one of the undying ones, while I will grow into old age but I intend to follow you until I am too aged to do so any longer. And I am the only one who can repair your bronze armour when it is damaged and who knows best how to care for your weapons. You will need a servant, you will need many servants, you cannot go on alone, and though you are displeased with my service I can do it better. I know that I am no warrior and I have shamed you by falling on the battlefield but I will learn to fight better, I swear it. Do not dismiss me, lord, I beg you.”
“Pehur, you misunderstand me. There is no shame in falling in battle, only glory, and you are a warrior, I see that now. And you are more than a servant, I see that also, you are a trusted companion and a wise counsellor.” He smiled. “I would even call you my friend but above all I value your wit and your wisdom and your advice I trust more than any other. Without your company I will be even further diminished and certainly I will be lonely. But as wise as you are you must see that I cannot have victory in the manner I intended.”
Pehur was too stunned by the praise to know where to begin but then he cut to the heart of the matter. “You cannot mean that you will give up your oath to Kolnos, lord?”
“To do that would be the most shameful act I can imagine. No, I cannot give up on that oath and so I must go on to the end but I see now that there was never much hope of success. So I will return from this place to the village of Torkos. It cannot be more than two days away if I hurry but of course I will have to avoid the warbands he will have out hunting for me so it may take three or four days but eventually I will reach his home. And when I find his village, I will find my way inside it in the darkness to his tent and there I will cut his throat while he sleeps.” He held up a hand. “There is little honour in it but it is the only way to fulfil my oath and Kolnos knows that is better than failure.”
“His men will kill you, lord,” Pehur said, horrified at the plan. “Before or after you kill Torkos.”
“Perhaps. Or they will kneel to me.”
“If you truly value my advice then listen to it now, lord, and do not do this. There must be a better way. Win an even greater number of warriors to you than before and return with such force that you overwhelm all of his men. They should be armed with as many slings and bows as you can spare while your warriors attack. And there must be some way to protect your own men from the enemy arrows while you advance on Torkos. We could lure him into an ambush, lord. There is much that we can try, together.”
“Torkos is too cunning and too strong for any of that, Pehur, I see it now. The Heryos would not follow me over him and he is no fool like Leuhon was. Torkos the Devourer will never meet me in a challenge and so to beat him I would need a warband larger than any ever assembled, I agree with you. But how do we do such a thing? All the Heryos in this land are already subject to Torkos and we have seen how strong is their loyalty. How many others like Helek would betray me?. No, there is no one I can trust but myself and so only my way has hope of success. If the gods are with me I will succeed and if they are not then I will die. So be it. But there is no need for you to come with me. In fact, I will not allow it.”
Pehur was stunned and no doubt heartbroken but in time he would understand. Perhaps once he got a son or two on Amra then he would be thankful for what Herkuhlos had decided.
“Lord,” Sunhus said, stepping forward and bowing. “I will serve you still. I wish to serve no other chief and I will gladly die serving you.”
Herkuhlos shook his head, unable to understand why they would still wish to follow a lord who did not deserve their loyalty. He did not know what to say and Z’ta interjected.
“Lord,” Z’ta said. “Amra can stay with my people for as long as she wishes. When we next go to trade with the Furun we will take her back to her people.”
“We will have to ask her what she wants,” Pehur said quickly.
“I’m not sure it is safe for any of you to stay here in this place,” Herkuhlos said. “That chief Ghebol will not have given up searching for us.”
“Perhaps,” Z’ta said, “but he won’t find you here. It is not easy to find unless you know the paths across the bogs and through the woods.” Even as he spoke his words seemed to lose their certainty as though his mind travelled elsewhere.
“What is it?” Herkuhlos asked.
“But if someone were to guide them,” Z’ta began but shook his head and swiftly made a different point. “This is not the only place my people live. I agree that it would be best to move to another camp.”
Herkuhlos looked back at the huts, thinking about his own people and how they would load their tents in pieces on their wagons and move to new pastures. “How do you move your homes?”
Confused for a moment, Z’ta then smiled. “They stay where they are but we take to the boats and go along the coast or to one of the islands and make our home there. Sometimes we must follow the seals or the fish and we take everyone, men
, women, children. There are boats enough for us all. Our chief has kinsmen, clans in other places, and we can share hunting places with them if they are there or live there alone if they are not. You need not be concerned for us, we have the sea to protect us, and the Mother watches over us all. I will speak to S’tef and explain to him that he should take the tribe elsewhere for now just to be safe. It should not take long to arrange.”
“Good,” Herkuhlos said, looking out at the seemingly endless expanse. “Perhaps not only Amra but all my companions might join your people as they move? Then they could make their way south to the Furun and east to the Heryos when the danger has passed. Z’ta, your people have been more than generous with us already but do you think they could spare any food for my journey?”
“You will have as much as you can carry. They have been blessed by the goddess with the fishing this spring and the seal hunt has been bountiful.”
Pehur was unhappy but he looked at Amra and pursed his lips. “I will prepare your things. The lionskin should be combed and your armour should be cleaned, lord. I noticed that the strap for your club is wearing thin where it passed through the hole at the base of the handle and I intended to make a new thong for it, thicker than the last. If possible I would like to make a ring of bronze to go through the hole and attach the leather to that which will keep it safe. Otherwise the strap will surely break and you will lose your club when travelling. You already lost your spear, lord, and you cannot do without your club.”
Herkuhlos was touched by his concern. “It matters not, Pehur. If the strap survives but a few more days that is all I shall need. But if you would prepare my armour before you leave with these people then I would be deeply grateful for your attention.”
Looking down, Pehur nodded. He was distraught and still felt as though he personally was being rejected but in time he would learn that this was the right decision.
“If there is possible danger here, lord,” Sunhus said, “we should be armed for war now and at all times. And we should take turns to watch all through the night until it is time to leave.”
“I agree with you, Sunhus, that is fine advice,” Herkuhlos said. “It was a great relief to come to this place and though you say no man could find their way without help we cannot be certain of our safety. Yes, Sunhus, go now with Pehur and fetch my club at least.”
“I must repair that strap, lord,” Pehur said. “I will strengthen the strap, it will not take long.”
“Very well,” Herkuhlos said. “Go now.”
He watched Pehur and Sunhus go back to the village with Amra between them. Pehur was explaining to her what they were going to do now and Sunhus was looking pained as her attention was turned away from him.
“I would serve you still, lord,” Z’ta said. “I must help my sister to find our mother and father but I am certain my path lies also at your side.”
Herkuhlos found that amusing. “Our paths diverge here, Z’ta, so I’m afraid you must be mistaken.”
He shook his head, frowning. “Yes, you are right but it does not seem right.”
They walked away down the soft sand toward the huts of the village, past where the women worked and the children laughed amongst them.
Z’ta tilted his head, frowning.
“What is it?”
“I thought I heard thunder but the sky is clear. It is nothing.” He smiled and gestured down at the boats. “My sister is preparing our canoe for the journey. Would you like to see how we do it?”
Herkuhlos looked down at the young woman struggling with her load of baskets and leather bags, her tangled hair blowing in the wind. “I would.”
“Why does the water come in and out like this?” he asked as they went down to the boats. “This morning the water was all the way back there and now it is here.”
“And after dark it will go all the way out again and come back in so that just before dawn it will be going back out. As it goes out it will carry everything upon the water with it, including our boat. You still must paddle but it is easier and then of course you do not have to carry or push your canoe all the way down the sand to the distant water. Either way, you have to paddle the boat through the waves but then when you get away from the shore it is much easier.” He smiled. “I have not been on the sea since I was a boy. I have longed for it.”
“Yes but why does it do it?”
Z’ta shrugged. “The Mother makes it so.” He raised his voice. “Sif!” He rattled off a stream of words while Herkuhlos stood looking down at the boat. She was loading one of the biggest crafts with two big logboats lashed together.
There was a cry like a scream in the distance and he looked up but he saw it must have been the gulls circling over the fish that the woman were processing. Then there was that distant thunder again that Z’ta had mentioned and Herkuhlos’ heart skipped a beat.
“What is that?” Z’ta asked, frowning and straining to hear over the noise of the waves.
Herkuhlos knew what it was. He had grown up hearing that sound, feeling it beneath him as he slept in the tents on the plain.
“Horses.” He turned to Z’ta. “They have found us.”
26. Destruction
Herkuhlos ran up the dune, his feet sliding in the loose sand, and heard the screams and shouts of fear moments before saw the horsemen swarming at the outskirts of the village.
More were coming from the trees beyond, some leaping from their horses and others galloping through the houses. They brandished axes and spears and threw javelins at the screaming Seal Men. Women screamed for their children and others scooped theirs into their arms and ran toward the dunes and the beach and the sea. Already, the flickering of flames touched the dry brushwood roofs of the huts and one raider dragged a burning log from a hearth inside and swung it up onto the roof above the doorway.
His armour and weapons were in the hut in the centre of the village beside that of the chief and he had to reach that if he were to have any chance of surviving this attack. There was no time to curse the gods of his own foolishness nor to ask how they had found them and how they had brought horses through the dense woodland and water meadows.
There was no time to do anything now but find his weapons and fight to his end.
He started at once, having hardly paused, down the back of the dune and on toward the village. The sand beneath his feet shifted and he struggled up the other side while screams filled the air. Through the clumps of long bent grass he saw the stream of fleeing women and children and the men of the village rushing to protect them from the advancing Heryos who swarmed in from both sides. A hunter threw his harpoon at a man on horseback and turned to flee before being caught and cut down by two raiders, screaming with the battle lust as they killed him.
Pehur was there near the centre of the village, running for the hut that held their weapons, and Sunhus and Amra were there behind him running hand in hand for the relative safety of the hut. A horseman saw them and swerved toward them with his long-hafted axe high and ready to cut them down.
Herkuhlos ran toward them. Almost immediately he realised he would not make it to them before the horseman and so he roared a warning and a challenge, hoping to attract the attackers attention.
It did not work.
The rider shouted his war cry and at the last moment, Sunhus pushed Amra to the ground and ducked away from the swinging axe.
He was too slow and the weapon thumped into his shoulder, throwing him face first into the ground as the rider galloped past and began to circle around to finish them off. It was a fine feat of horsemanship to strike such a blow without being unhorsed but he was so confident that he had isolated himself and charged ahead of his warband. Herkuhlos ran hard for him, up the rising land and into the firmer ground of the village, his strides pounding on the earth. The horseman, his face contorted with the joy of battle, suddenly saw Herkuhlos closing and he started, yanking his horse away from this enormous threat coming seemingly from nowhere.
Before he could get
clear, Herkuhlos dragged him from the back of his horse and drove a fist down onto his nose, crushing his face. The warrior thrashed on the ground as he choked on the blood and bone pouring into his throat. Taking the long axe he had dropped, Herkuhlos looked up to find the next threat.
Sunhus, one arm hanging limp, struggled to his feet. Beyond him, Pehur had abandoned the hut and had run back to rescue Amra who had fallen in the attack. He was yanking her up by the arm, shouting encouragement and pointing to the hut as he helped her to her feet. It seemed Pehur was still intent on getting inside their hut but that was no place of safety now.
“This way!” Herkuhlos shouted at him as he started toward them. “To the boats, Pehur, the boats!”
As the words left his mouth, an arrow flitted like a bird between the huts and struck Amra. Her eyes bulging in astonishment she fell with the bloody, shining arrowhead jutting out of her throat and the shaft sticking from the back of her neck. Pehur let out a cry of anguish and rage and he turned as two horsemen galloped between the buildings and rode toward him.
One of the riders was a huge warrior in a boar’s tusk helm on an enormous horse who raised a shining bronze axe over his head and roared as he shook his weapon, showing the gods his glory and his strength. This was Ghebol, a mighty chief leading his warband, and he looked almost like a god himself as he bore down on Pehur atop his great horse with its thundering hooves.
For one mad moment, Pehur looked like he was going to fight them but instead then he grabbed Sunhus about the waist and helped him to flee. Herkuhlos ran toward them but it was all happening so quickly, just a few heartbeats since Sunhus had been struck, and he was still too far to stop what he was seeing. With his stolen axe in hand he ran on toward his friends, desperate to reach them before Ghebol and the other horseman.
A javelin struck Sunhus low on his back and he howled and arched backwards as he fell, dragging Pehur down with him.