by Griff Hosker
I rested my head against the willow. “I do not think that my brother is dead. If he was then his spirit would be in my head and he would tell me so. When we went to Din Guardi he spoke to me there. I know not why he has not spoken to me but he is alive and I must find him.”
“You would go back to the battlefield?”
“No, Pol, if he is on the battle field then he will be dead. As we fled I saw the bodies being stripped and I saw no equite to the west of us, at least none on a horse. He wore mail. All the wolf brethren will lie naked and despoiled on the battlefield. The victors will not leave them with mail on them.” I touched the golden wolf clasp on my cloak. “We are richly adorned. This is the first time we have lost a battle and left our dead for the enemy. It sits heavy on my heart.”
“Warlord it was not your fault that we lost.”
“Yet we did and the cream of Rheged lie dead. All the equites, archers and squires were slaughtered. I now know that sending back the warriors I did was necessary. They could not have changed the battle and their presence in Rheged might save our home. They have Llenlleog to lead them.”
“You think that the Clan of the Snake will head there?” There was fear in Agramaine’s voice. We had seen what the Clan of the Snake could do.
“I know not. Gawan and Myrddyn were always here to give me advice. Now they are not and I feel that I am in a fog. We keep on heading home until I get a sign. Then you two will return to Rheged and I will end this quest.”
“We do not leave you. If you are to die then there will be two equites who fall with you.”
“And if I order you?”
Pol laughed, “That will be an interesting experience, Agramaine, refusing to obey the Warlord!”
We walked our horses for the rest of the afternoon. We had a long way to go and they needed our help. We kept heading north and west although with no sun our direction was ordered by the land. We guessed we were heading north west. We walked up the young river valley. It became a stream. By night time we were on the eastern slopes of the High Divide. We had seen few houses for we had followed the river which had become narrower as we had climbed north and west. We were not on the roads. That made it harder for me to estimate where we were. We found a piece of ground which offered some protection. Rocks made a natural shelter from the wind. There was turf for the horses and so we stopped. The rain had stopped and so we risked a fire. Our clothes and cloaks needed to be dried. Using our cloaks to give us shelter we lit a fire. We waited until it was blazing and our soaked cloaks began to steam before we moved away.
It was when I was taking off my mail that Pol said, “Warlord, you are wounded!”
I remembered the last of the Eorledman’s oathsworn stabbing me. I saw that the links on my mail had been pierced. Agramaine went for the vinegar and honey. Pol cut away the shift I wore beneath my padded vest. The white shift was soaked with blood. The blood had matted and when Agramaine wiped it clean with vinegar it began to flow again. He said, “Warlord, you are losing too much blood. I cannot stitch this. Pol fetch a brand from the fire.”
I nodded. He was right. Pol gave the brand to Agramaine and then we held each other’s shoulders.
“Ready, Warlord?” I nodded. There was a hiss and then the smell of burning hair and flesh as he sealed the wound. The pain was excruciating and had Pol not been holding on to me then I would have fallen. The brand was placed back in the fire and my wound covered in honey and a bandage.
We sat and watched our clothes and cloaks steam before the fire. “We will keep watch this night, Warlord.”
I shook my head, “We are all tired. Our lives are in the Allfather’s hands. We need our sleep and I think we have outrun any who might be pursuing us.”
That night I dreamed. I saw Gawan’s face but it looked to be in pain. He tried to speak with me but could not. All around him were the warriors of the Clan of the Snake. Each time I opened my mouth no words came out and then all faded to black.
Perhaps we were being watched by the spirits for we woke and all was well. I was stiff and my side ached when I moved but we were alive. The rain had gone to be replaced by grey brooding skies. Ahead of us the High Divide rose like a rocky wall. I spied a trail which wound up the sides. It was not a road but looked like a local trail. It had to lead somewhere and it was heading in the right direction. We walked our horses up the steep part to reach the trail. In the distance we saw smoke coming from isolated farms. They knew nothing of the battle and went about their lives as though nothing had happened. The undulating land meant we could not see them. When we reached the trail, we mounted. I saw that it was a cattle trail. Drovers used them to move cattle to market. I doubted that many had used them recently. The three of us scanned the horizon constantly. There would be warbands either seeking us or heading back to their own lands. Even the warriors of Mercia might prove to be an enemy. These were warriors without a leader. They might choose banditry now that their King and their chiefs were dead. The wind picked up as we climbed and I knew that we had to find a col or risk being silhouetted on the sky line.
It soon became obvious that if we were to stay on the trail we would have to risk being seen for the trail took the high level. We dismounted and hung our helmets from our saddles. We would make ourselves as small as we could. As noon approached we stopped in the lee of the hills. The wind was from the east and it was a relief to be away from its icy blast. We were eating the last of our venison when Star whinnied. Someone was approaching. We all drew our swords and stood, as one. We made a triangle so that we were back to back. If we were to die then we would sell our lives dearly.
Geraint appeared over a rise to the north of us. He had a bandage on his head and his arm was in a sling. He dropped to a knee, “Warlord! I have found you. I spied you five miles since and I have been following you. I am the last of your scouts.”
We sheathed our swords. He looked exhausted; he looked almost grey. He had been hurt and he was exhausted. His horse was lathered. It could go no further. Pol took the weary mount while Agramaine and I began to tend his wounds. He began to speak as we cleansed his ugly wounds with vinegar. He barely winced at the pain. His arm had been laid open to the bone. Agramaine said, “This needs fire or he will lose it.”
“See to it.” The head wound looked worse than it was. He had suffered a blow from a metal weapon. “What happened to you?”
He shook his head as though trying to eradicate the memory. “I was with Daffydd ap Miach. By the time you charged our bows would send an arrow barely forty paces. He ordered us to draw our swords and charge. We used our horses.” He smiled, “The Bernicians did not think we could fight as well as we could. When they began to hack our horses, he ordered Tadgh and me to find you and tell you that they were finished. Tadgh could not obey the order for he was hewn in twain by an axe. I did as I was ordered although it pained me to do so. The captain and his men made a circle and took many with them. As I reached the river I saw that they had all died. I could not get across the battlefield for there were to many enemies but the north was empty. That faithless Angle, Œthelwald of Deira, had led his men to join with the Clan of the Snake. They fell upon King Penda.”
Agramaine had a fire going and he and Pol came over with water and some dried venison. “Eat and drink for you need it.”
He shook his head, “I have more to tell you. The Warlord needs to know.”
I nodded, “Get the fire hot so that the wound is sealed. Go on Geraint.” I spoke gently for I could see that he was upset.
“The battle had spread out well to the west as men fled. Not all of the Saxons who had fought had died. They were pursued by vengeful warriors. I saw Eorledman Ethelbert fall. It was as I looked for a route around the battle that I spied Gawan leading equites to King Penda’s aid. Pybba and the Mercian hearth-weru fought to the last around the King and his standard. The King fell to Lang Seax’s long sword but our equites still charged to save him from butchery. Their horses were hacked and the equites and squi
res slain. It was horrible and terrible to watch. They took many of the Clan of the Snake with them but they died.”
My heart sank. Gawan was dead. “How did Gawan die? Did he suffer?”
Geraint shook his head, “He did not die, Warlord. Lang Seax fetched him a blow with the flat of the blade. He was struck in the head and then he fell. I watched them bind him.” He looked ready to pass out.
This was worse than the thought that my brother was dead. Agramaine said, “Warlord, his horse is out on its feet. If Geraint has ridden as far we must tend his wound and we must give him food. He will die else.”
He was right and I nodded, “Geraint, you have done well. We will talk more when you have had food and you can order your thoughts. I must find a high place.”
I walked to a large rock which was a hundred paces from our camp. I would be exposed but I no longer cared. If it brought the Clan of the Snake to me then I would have vengeance for my men and my brother. I stood on the rock and holding Saxon Slayer aloft and the wolf clasp on my cloak I closed my eyes and said, “Myrddyn, I know not where my brother lies. I need your help. I cannot leave and return to Rheged without knowing what has happened to him!”
There was nothing. The sound of the wind filled my head and my ears. Myrddyn had abandoned us. Then I heard the shrill cry of a hunting hawk and I looked up in the sky. Circling above me was a hawk. Then I heard Myrddyn’s voice in my head, ‘You will not return to Rheged. Your feet are now on a path which will take you to your death. The Clan of the Snake are heading home. They have wagons for their booty. Your brother lives, for a while, at least.’ Then the hawk swooped and plunged to the ground. It rose and in its talons was an adder. It wriggled until the hawk’s beak snapped off its head. I knew what I had to do. I had to take the head of the Clan of the Snake. I had to slay Lang Seax.
When I returned Geraint looked better. A little colour had returned to his cheeks.
“Myrddyn has spoken to me.” My equites clutched their wolf clasps. “I must face this Lang Seax. He has taken Gawan and my brother is still alive. I believe that Lang Seax means to have sport with him and then kill him.”
“He could be anywhere!”
“No Pol. He will be where he feels safe. He will be south of Wyddfa. There he has a stronghold and he has his ships. He will have more men there. Geraint has said that many of the Clan died. He will need his men. He has gold now. He will want more and Rheged will be where he gets it. To stop the Clan of the Snake I must cut off its head.”
“There are just four of us, Warlord.”
“No Agramaine, there is just me. I will do this alone.”
Pol shook his head, “You would face a warband alone?”
“Geraint, how many of the Clan of the Snake survived?”
“They fought Mercians protecting their King and our equites, lord, more than half were killed or wounded. I knew that you would be south of the battle and I had to cross the Saxon lines to reach you. I found many of the Clan of the Snake dying on the road where they had been abandoned but Warlord, there are still more than a hundred of them.”
I nodded, “Then I will kill them one at a time. I cannot leave my brother in their hands. Tell Arturus and Llenlleog what I do.”
Agramaine said, “I am coming with you Warlord. You shall not die alone.”
“And I. We are equites.”
“I am the last of the scouts. I will come with you.”
“No Geraint. We cannot leave Arturus wondering what happened to his father. Would you wish Arturus to seek his father and take on the Clan of the Snake?”
“No, Warlord.”
“We cannot save Gawan but we can stop them from hurting him before they kill him. Tell Arturus that if we do not return then we are dead and if we do return…” I shook my head, “that will not happen.”
“And Saxon Slayer?”
“Saxon Slayer will die with me!”
We stayed with Geraint for the rest of the day and the night. We used the time to plan what we would do. I reasoned that as the Clan of the Snake were on foot we were quite likely to be ahead of them. They had to cross the Dee at Deva to get home and there were men there. Ethelbert had left an old warrior, Egbert, in command of a garrison of twenty men. If we could reach the fort before the Saxons then we had an opportunity to slow them down and inflict some casualties. The men of that part of the world had much to thank Ethelbert for. They would wish vengeance on his killers.
We parted from Geraint on the western side of the High Divide. There were no words left to say. We spoke with our eyes and our hand clasp. Geraint had to live else the last stand of the men of Rheged would not be told truly.
The plain ran all the way to the sea. The cloudy skies had given way to a blue sky. It was not warm but we could see a long way ahead of us. Our horses had had almost a day’s rest and we were riding downhill. It allowed us to push them harder.
“Which way will they go when they have crossed the Dee, Warlord?”
“I think they will go the direct route, to the south of Wyddfa. If they go the easier way, the coast road, they risk being attacked by the Welsh. They might not fight for King Penda but a hundred Saxons passing through Dogfeiling might tempt them to action. Once we have his scent we will be like a hunting hound. No matter how much he twists and turns we will follow.”
It was late when we reached the fortress. I knew that word of the disaster would not have reached them yet. The Queen and Peada at Tomworðig would know but the stronghold was three days hence. Egbert smiled when he saw us, “Do you bring news of King Penda’s victory, Warlord? We are honoured to have such a noble emissary.”
I dismounted and shook my head, “I am a harbinger of doom. Your King, your Eorledman and the flower of Mercia lie dead. They were betrayed by the Welsh and butchered by the Saxon mercenaries of the Clan of the Snake.”
The old warrior’s face fell. “I have lived too long. I served the Eorledman’s father. I was in his hearth weru. He was a good man.”
“Aye he was.”
He had a shrewd mind. “Then what brings you here, Warlord, for Rheged is far to the north?”
“The Clan of the Snake have my brother, Gawan. They are heading home and I would stop them here. They have booty and the only way across the river is by this bridge.”
“I have but twenty men.”
“And I have three. We will be outnumbered four to one. We will lose.”
He laughed, “You do not sweeten the medicine do you, Warlord?”
“We might lose but there may be a chance for us to rescue Gawan and to kill enough of them to stop them being a threat to you and your people.”
He nodded, “For myself I do not mind but there are young warriors here.”
I turned to look at the bridge. It was close enough to the walls for stones and arrows to be used as missiles. It was just wide enough for a cart or a small wagon. “If we blocked the bridge with trees then your young warriors could use stones and arrows from the walls. They would not be at risk. When they send warriors to clear the bridge then those of us who wish to could sally forth.”
Pol said, “And if they swim the river?”
“They have booty. There is no one pursuing them. If they are able then they will try to clear the bridge. Perhaps, if Lang Seax sees me, he may decide to end the blood feud here.”
Egbert was happy. “I will have the young men hew the blackthorn and hawthorn trees. They needed clearing anyway. If we tangle them together they will be hard to shift and they will tear their hands to shreds while they do so.”
While they set about that I said, “It is a shame that the Romans built this to stop the Welsh. If the fort was on the other side of the river we would be able to guarantee that they would not escape. If they use shields then they can clear the bridge and escape us.”
“Warlord you are using what there is. This is wyrd.” Pol was right. There was no use in worrying about what we did not have. The road passed close to the fort and that would have to do.
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The chopping and hewing went on into the night. We stabled our horses and prepared our weapons. Egbert had plenty of food and we ate our first hot meal in many days. It helped me to sleep soundly. That night, as I slept, Gawan came to me or at least his words did. I saw him not. I almost did not recognise his voice for his words were thin and reedy.
‘Brother, I know that you are close. I can sense you. I am doomed to die, but you know that already and you are sacrificing yourself. They have taken my eyes and my fingers. They feared my magic. They have only left me my tongue so that they can continue to question me. I fear that this night will see them take my manhood. They have no honour and they punish me because Lang Seax fears you, Brother. He runs from you. He thinks that you pursue him. It is little enough but it may help. I know I am close to Wyddfa for I feel its power. I am close to death now, brother. The next time I see you will be in the Otherworld.’
And then he was gone. I woke with a start. They were close. I roused my two equites. “They are close. Let us find bows. It has been many years since I used one but our arrows may help to thin their numbers.” They stared at me. “Gawan came to me in a dream. They are close. He has been blinded and tortured.”
I needed say no more. It was some hours until dawn but if this was our last day on earth then we had eternity for sleep. We found the armoury. There were throwing spears as well as bows and arrows. Neither the bows nor the arrows were as good as the ones we used but they would have to do. The gatehouse was the closest place to the road and we took our weapons there. The original Roman Road had passed through the fort. The road which now ran around it was not Roman made. It was rough and it was ready. The bridge was a hundred paces from the walls but the road, separated by a double ditch was less than forty paces. With the elevated fighting platform and our strength then we had a chance to use the throwing spears to good effect. The two young sentries looked at us as though we were mad. Not long before dawn we left the fort and took eight spears. We buried the shafts in the soil at the side of the bridge so that the tips were at groin height. Then we disguised them with ivy. For a day the ivy would remain green and appear as though it was natural. To get around the timber barricade they might try to climb the parapet. The first ones to do so would die. We had also found an old Roman buccina. We placed that on the fighting platform too. Then we hurried back inside.
