by Sam Taw
I tried not to appear too eager, but the fascination with this man had me trotting across the damp grass almost faster than the cursed one’s son. With a nod to the guards, we were permitted entry. The inside was as magnificent as the decorated outside. There were long sashes of fine fabrics slung from the roof struts, the rushes were strewn with soft cushions and furs, and the old man sat in a tall wooden chair in the centre at the end. His entire body, except for his hands and face, was cloaked in a long grey tunic. His head was wrapped in more of the same material and topped with a tall coned hat, and a large amber jewel above his forehead.
Upon seeing me, he smiled and gestured for me to step forward. Jago stayed in the doorway, too scared to move closer.
I peered over my shoulder at him. “How in the name of Cernonnus do you expect us to talk with you all the way over there?”
He slunk to my side, but kept his head bowed away from looking at the man with the curse. Little by little, and with Jago’s assistance, we managed to converse. He told me that his people were from a land where sand is more common than water, sun shines all day long and the rivers were beyond value. There he ruled over more people than could be counted in a dozen moons. Before he got too deep into his tale, I asked Jago to give the man my proper name and to ask for his in return.
The reply came back, “He is Prince Suliaman, Fur Benyn, and his son is Maleek. Shall I tell them that you are a healer?”
I nodded. Prince Suliaman seemed surprised at this confession. I looked around the tent at his guards and servants, none of them were women. If I had to guess, I would say that his healers were not of my persuasion either. Jago seemed to be taking his time explaining my position within the tribe. It gave me the chance to take in all the finery and sniff at their rich foods and drinks.
“I have explained that you are the best wise woman and healer in all of Inglond. The Prince asks if you know of any cures for his curse?”
How could I know a cure for an ailment I’d never encountered before? Any cursing in our tribe would have been the priests’ doing, and would take a lengthy ritual at the Seven Sisters’ stone circle to break. Anything more sinister, would require the Black Rites Ritual, at a more powerful henge. I relayed my thoughts to my slave who passed them into Frynkish for the visitors.
I didn’t think any more of it until I noticed the old man sit forward in his chair and look animated for the first time since meeting him. He spoke to Jago in hurried tones and flicked his hand at him to translate for me.
“He wants to know more about the Black Rites Ritual. How do you get there?”
“It’s at the top of the world!” I couldn’t contain my astonishment. “Only people from Skotek are near enough for the journey. It’s a fearsome long way to travel.”
More babbled Frynkish took place, while I looked on with a bemused expression.
“But it can be done?”
“Well, yes, but it’d take a fortune in tribal tributes to pass through so many regions, and you’d need dozens of guards and that’s supposing you were young and healthy.”
Jago conveyed my response and waited until the Prince had spoken to his son. There appeared to be a certain amount of disagreement between them. Maleek’s raised voice and clenched teeth told me far more than Jago could. This was not what I had in mind when I went snooping for poppy resin.
At length, the son caved in to his father’s command. They gave Jago their request.
“Fur Benyn, the Prince would like to pay you to lead his group to the stones at the top of the world, and arrange for him to receive the Black Rites Ritual to cleanse the curse from his body.”
I did not hide my amazement. He could see my age and my circumstances, and yet he was still prepared to embark upon a journey that could well spell the end of him.
“Tell him that I cannot be bought. I have to get back to my own tribe and I am too old to go traipsing across the wilderness to the outer islands of Skotek.”
Jago did as I said. “He says if gold will not persuade you, what would?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I thought of our problems in obtaining a steady supply of copper, and how Aebba was always keen on expanding our trading routes for our tin. With demand so high for a metal that only we could supply, we were in a strong bartering position.
“I’m not making any promises on behalf of my kin, but I know that securing a trade route to your homelands, and all the destinations in between, for our tin would please my Chieftains no end.”
The Prince listened to our difficulties with metal supplies and trading alliances, and a huge smile broadened across his face. I assumed that the mention of tin brought about his easy compliance, since it was rarer than gold and twice as useful.
We batted a few other issues about for a little while, until I thought I had a fairly decent deal on the table. My only problem was that I couldn’t lead the Prince along such dangerous paths alone. I needed Tallack’s help and it was doubtful that he’d agree.
We left the Prince’s tent with a promise to return before nightfall with our answer. We were all the way back to the port jetty before I remembered the poppy resin. We would have to make do with willow bark. Brea was waiting on the dock for Tallack, his sails billowing in the wind and unmistakable among our smaller boats and the Frynkish vessels.
When he finally landed, leaving his men in the boats with the traded copper, I told him about the Prince’s offer. Brea scowled at his indifference towards her as he gave me his undivided attention, listening to every detail I could recall.
“Are you addled, Aunt Mel? Have you any idea how long a journey like that would take even for a fit man on a horse?” He threw his arms up in the air at me. I could see what he was saying, and I understood his reticence. With all the good will in the world, it could take ten moons, maybe more to reach the Skotek stones and the same amount again to return.
“I hear what you are saying, Tallack, but can you not see the long-term prospects of an alliance with influential rulers in the southern lands? Their trade routes could ensure our tribes future for all time.” We stood on the breezy strip of land next to the harbour. He didn’t seem to care that people listened in on our discussion.
“We can’t be away from home for that long with the Duros threatening to attack our people. Who knows when they’ll strike?”
“Precisely. They may already have, for all we know. Blydh is well equipped to deal with it, and has all the hunters gathering the clans for defence. Let’s take the copper back and sail along the coast and up to Skotek with just one ship. We could leave your men for Blydh to lead. The Prince has his own guards.” That piece of information seemed to stop him from his blustering rant. He smoothed his tunic down and scratched his head.
“You know, he could die long before we even get there, or pass the curse onto us.” He sucked in his lips. Despite the negative back lash, I could tell that he was coming around to the idea. “That’s supposing that we aren’t sunk crossing back over the Channel.” He shifted his weight onto his other leg, sniffing and thinking. “Plus, there are all the necessary tributes to pay for crossing other tribal territories.”
“The Prince is wealthier than all the gods combined.” I raised a single brow at his dithering.
“Is he now? Good to know, good to know.”
“And I can ask all there is to learn about foreign healing practices.” I said, sensing he’d turned the corner in his objections. “And we’d return home with limitless copper supplies and new trading partners abroad.” The half-smile on his face broadened. I wasn’t about to let it falter. “And with your slick sailing skills and fast ship, we’ll be up that stretch of water and home again in no time at all.”
He started to nod. “You said he was likely to pay us in gold for our troubles?”
“I’m sure of it. We’d be little more than guides. We take young Jago here to speak for us, and we’d be done long before spring.” I clapped my hand against his shoulder, moving him further inland and towar
ds the exotic tent in the foreigners’ camp. By the time I got to introduce Tallack to Prince Suliaman and his son, Brea was in a deep sulk. Tallack had barely acknowledged her presence, and when Maleek stepped forward to shake his hand, it was as though Brea had vanished from the world.
I could see the attraction, as old as I was. Maleek’s fine features and slim build gave him a refined air. He reminded me of delicate golden jewellery, forged and worked into the most intricate of patterns. Tallack was smitten, I could tell, but I could not detect any partiality from Maleek.
We shoved Jago between each of our groups, and kept him busy restating the terms of our agreement. We drank hot teas of floral scented leaves with a liberal trickle of honey as the day wore on. Tallack wanted to be sure that the old man knew what the trip entailed. He laid out all the dangers and pitfalls, yet still he would not be deterred.
“You think that I am frightened of a little discomfort?” Came his reply via Jago. “No journey could be as bad as bearing this curse. I must endure to prepare my son to take over my reign. There is still so much left to teach him. It would leave a stain on him if I let this evil take me before my time.” Satisfied that a deal was well struck, they drank wine and shook hands.
“Permit me to give your ladies a gift each as a token of my gratitude.” The Prince relayed, clapping his hands together. I stared at his fingers as they moved, looking for signs of rot as Jago had explained the day before. As far as I could tell, they were free from any damage. I thought then, that perhaps my slave had mistaken the ailment for another, or maybe the old man was indeed cursed by some black evil arts. Either way, we were to spend a great deal of time together, allowing me ample opportunities to sate my curiosity and learn all I could.
Following his signal, the Prince’s servants appeared from both sides of the tent. One moved to Brea’s side, presenting her with a golden bracelet studded with amber beads. Its value was beyond measure. Her face brightened significantly, grabbing at the item with both hands and thanking him for his generosity. Her attitude abruptly changed from sullen to jolly in an instant.
“The Prince says that his son said that you took a liking to their family treasure. He cannot give you that torque from around Maleek’s neck, but perhaps this bracelet will be sufficient?” Jago spoke out in translation. I could see the old man narrowing his eyes at the gushing Brea, taking her measure. He was far shrewder than any of us realised. He observed us with a subtle judgement, so that none suspected his actions. What a clever man.
A second servant stopped by my side, passing me a small beaker with a lid sealed by wax. I took it from him and looked to the Prince for an explanation.
“It is a small quantity of the poppy resin that you wanted. The Prince thinks it is not for your own use, but for those who use your healing services.”
I blushed. The amount was huge by my normal standards. This little pot would set me back a quarter moon’s worth of digging and smelting tin for a dozen men. Not that I could source that much resin in Dumnoni lands with which to trade. With careful administration, it would be more than enough to see out the battle wounds and injuries ahead. I was overwhelmed. I tried to convey all that I felt but the words would not come.
Jago guessed my intention and spoke on my behalf, while I wiped the fog from my eyes. Why anyone would want to lay a curse on this godly man is beyond me. When I could see again, and regained my composure, I found both the Prince and Maleek smiling down on me from their high chairs. It made me so uncomfortable, I handed the resin pot to Jago for safe keeping, and excused myself to step outside. It would not do to show the Prince my vulnerabilities.
The low sun tried to break through the building clouds and the light had already begun to fade. I couldn’t see Tallack wishing to set sail in the dark in unfamiliar waters. It seemed to me that we’d be spending another night with the stinking travellers in the boarding hut. For a moment, I tutted at the prospect, and then remembered that I had just volunteered to spend the next couple of moons in cramped, cold and probably soaking wet conditions to secure new trade. I needed to forget my former life of privilege and stop complaining.
When I returned to the tent, the Prince’s servants were laying out a massive spread of dishes. He beckoned us over to help ourselves to the exotic looking foods. I recognised the taste of rabbit and deer meat, but they were coated in sauces that were so filled with flavour that my tongue started to tingle. One red sauce gave me pain it had in it so much foreign spice. My eyes watered and I coughed, until Tallack handed me his cup of sweet wine to cool my mouth. It caused much amusement in the tent. I can’t remember the last time I had laughed so much.
Only when my mouth stopped burning, and I was given a spoon of soured cream to stir into the sauce, did I realise that Jago was standing by the edge of the tent walls, looking down at the ground. Puzzled, I walked over to him and asked why he was not eating the foods.
“Fur Benyn. I am a slave. Your servant. It is my place to stand alongside the Prince’s slaves now that we are to be in his company.” He whispered this to me, with his head still bowed, not daring to make eye contact with me.
“Don’t be daft. You’re my Jago, not one of the Prince’s servants. Come and eat with us.” I grabbed his wrist and tried to pull him across the tent, but he wouldn’t budge. I couldn’t decide whether he was intimidated by the situation, or whether he was simply too frightened to be close to the cursed man. Defeated, I scooped up a bowl full of food and bread and walked to the doorway. With a flick of my head in his direction, he limped after me and out of the tent.
“What’s all this nonsense about. You’re not in the Prince’s service, you belong to me.” I thrust the bowl at him. “If you won’t eat with us, then get this down you out here. I can’t have you standing next to his servants at the side of the tent scoffing down his food in front of them.” I gave him and exasperated sigh.
He tucked into the foods as if he’d not eaten for two moons. I was used to his picky ways, his nibbling on food and making portions last him all day. This was new to me. He rammed his mouth full and swallowed until he almost choked.
The moment he stopped for breath, I asked, “How come you suddenly have an appetite?”
The satisfied groans and moans halted. “This is the food of my homeland. It tastes the same as my mother’s cooking.” That was all I could hear on the matter, for he scooped up more with cupped fingers and crammed it into his maw. Far from being upset by the reminder of home, it was the happiest I’d seen him since his binding ceremony to the Frynkish slave girl.
“Don’t wander off. You told me yourself how thieves wander these shores.”
I glanced back to see him grin, with spiced sauce dribbling down his chin. Tittering to myself, I re-joined the party. Tallack and Maleek were using a made-up form of gestures to communicate in Jago’s absence, while Brea admired her new metal, oblivious to his growing attraction for the young man. Prince Suliaman sat back in his tall chair, content to watch the young people take their fill. He ate so little, and drank even less. I assumed that his need for poppy resin, curbed his hunger or that he chose to eat alone in private. How different he was from our Chieftains, especially Aebba. This man was quiet and studied, thoughtful and kind. Aebba was loud and raucous, brutal and at times, a bully.
It made me think back to his childhood. He was a sickly child, always at my door asking for willow bark and blackthorn for the gut ache. His kindness extended only to a select few, and Brea was not among them. This Prince seemed the perfect host. Was he too hiding a more sinister side beneath that wry smile? I guessed that only time would tell. Perhaps I would discover the reason why he was cursed, and by whom.
Jago returned with an empty bowl and a massive smile. I called him over to resume his job of translating. This he did with much vigour, having filled his belly with tasty fare. Tallack and Maleek busied themselves discussing and organising the trip across the channel. More boats would be required, along with men to sail them. Maleek did not seem
to think this would be a problem and sent one of the guards to the jetty in advance.
I moved towards Prince Suliaman and sat on a low seat opposite him. So many questions cluttered my thoughts about his condition. Whenever I thought he was not watching, I looked him up and down searching for signs of the ailment, but saw none. At length, the Prince summoned Jago to his side, speaking in their quiet tongue.
“Fur Benyn, the Prince thinks that you would like to ask him something. Is he correct?”
I knew he’d be a crafty one. Nothing escapes his attention. I was perhaps slightly embarrassed by my lack of tact, but I wanted to know more about him. “Please, ask the Prince, if I can do anything to ease his troubles. I have a few medicines in my kit bag and would be happy to assist him.” I waited for Jago to relay my message. It brought a warm grin to Suliaman’s cheeks.
“He says that you are a kind lady, but he has a healer in his service.” Jago stepped aside and waited for further instruction. I couldn’t think of a way to turn the conversation around and make him explain his curse. Annoyed with myself, I took a breath and smiled back feeling thoroughly thwarted. Suliaman’s face pinched tightly, his forehead furrowed and his eyes closed for just a moment. I could tell he was tolerating a serious level of pain. A servant moved closer and handed him a small cup. It contained a milky fluid. My best guess was watered down poppy resin.
When Maleek’s guard returned and whispered into his ear, Jago was required once again. The news from the harbour was that the best time to catch the tide would be before dawn. There was much to prepare, and the old man needed his rest.
I reclined on the bench, wrapping my cloak about me and watching the servants, guards and Jago rushing around packing everything away, until it was time to collapse the tent itself. Yawning, I slung my medicine kit over my shoulder and wandered outside.
Brea and Tallack were behind the boarding hut, arguing like they were already wed. I only heard a little, but the general thrust was that Brea felt he was ignoring her.
