by Sam Taw
“Farewell and good trading.” I yelled at her as the men made ready to row us back upstream. Before we reached the first bend, she called out to me using our Dumnonii tongue.
“Heed my warning, Fur Benyn. He’ll take that which you love most. Don’t let him turn your heart to stone.”
Her words chilled me to the core. How could she know my Dumnonii nick name? I could barely catch my breath on our way back to camp. I shivered in the front of the boat, trying to hide my discomfort from the men behind me. Was she really a gifted seer, or a malevolent old woman with plenty of spies surrounding us? The men exchanged more than a few glances when they thought I was not watching. Their sly looks and repeated throat clearings put me more on edge than the old woman’s caution.
“Out with it.” I barked at them, twisting around to sit facing their backs in the boat.
“It’s just, how could she possibly know your name, even if she did have scouts watching us?” Tallack said, his voice soft like when he was a little boy and he wanted his own way over something.
“She had to be talking about Suliaman, right? I mean, he seems an alright kind of man even if he has odd customs that we’re not used to.” Cade said, lifting his oars from the water to let us glide for a while.
When I said nothing, Tallack tried a different approach. “You’ve spent the most time with him. Do you think he means to harm us when we get further along our journey? His guards outnumber us three to one. We wouldn’t stand a chance.” None of us moved in the boat. The chilly breeze stilled, allowing us to hear the rush of tidal waters lapping the mud banks on the opposite side. I had spent time with the Prince, and yet learned nothing about him that would suggest he would do us harm. Perhaps there was more to his story about how the curse came about. Maybe he was a tyrant in his homeland or offended his own gods in some way. Shame kept me quiet. I should have learned more about the man before encouraging Tallack to agree to his offer.
Both men looked to me to provide a voice of wisdom and reason. I had no answers to their questions, but their insistent stares forced my hand. “I don’t know. He is generous to a fault and is reliant on our abilities to trade with locals and discuss tributes for passage across tribal lands. I can’t imagine why he would want to hurt any of us.”
“Jago speaks their tongue. He must know more than he is letting on. What has he told you about their ways?” Tallack asked me, twisting around in the boat to reach for my arm.
“That’s just it, Jago won’t speak to me about them at all. He avoids their company when he can and tells me that it is better that we do not know.” I lowered my head. I was ashamed for bringing my family into such potential dangers, no matter the promised rewards.
Cade leaned back and blew out his cheeks. “That doesn’t sound good to me.”
“No, but we made a deal, and we only have a crazed old wolf woman’s word for it that the Prince is bad news. I trust Maleek. He would never do us harm.” Tallack returned his hands to his oars and dipped them back into the water.
Cade shook his head. “Hmm. I think it’d be safer if we had more men to watch our back.”
“Bit late for that. We’ll have to put Jago in the watch rotation at night. That’d be alright wouldn’t it, Aunt Mel?” Tallack asked.
“It would. Put me in the mix too and make sure that you don’t wander off.” I shot him a reproachful glare.
“What do you mean?” He whimpered, although I could tell that he knew precisely what I meant.
“If you can’t keep it in your leggings, I’ll fry up some mallow seeds in a bit of pig fat. That’ll cool your ardour for a while. You might trust Maleek, but I don’t.”
Cade almost choked he snorted so loudly. At least it wasn’t only me that had noticed his partiality for the man. Cade seemed fully aware of my nephew’s preferences. I was relieved that there was no need to hide it from his cousin. The same could not be said for Suliaman though. None of us knew whether there would be repercussions should their dalliance become common knowledge.
When we reached our setting off point, we clambered up onto the bank and left Cade to return the boat to its owner. Tallack helped me to carry my new stock to the camp site.
Rich smells of spiced meats wafted from the cooking pots. Jago stood next to the horses with my medicine kit slung over his shoulder. His skinny little body shook from the cold.
“What are you doing so far from the fire?” I asked him, puzzled by his behaviour. He didn’t respond. His eyes were fixed on the long-armed statue sitting in a central spot.
A young badger cub lay at its base, its throat sliced open to its belly, blood trickled down the face of the idol. Maleek appeared from the rushes behind with wet hair and arms. He stood next to the fire and flicked his head from side to side until droplets of river water flew from him and sizzled in the flames. His fine tunic was covered in red splashes. Another sacrifice was offered to their gods.
I paced closer and pointed to a spot on my neck and then at the Prince sitting in his high chair. Maleek knew what I was asking. I wanted to know if his father’s neck sores were worse. The young man shook his head and pinched the fingers on his left hand with the thumb and forefinger of his right. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell me so looked to Jago for a clue.
“He means that the Prince is suffering from something else. The numbness is spreading from his fingers.” Jago said inching backwards with every word. It was something I’d only ever seen with injuries. A warrior with a healed arm might lose his sense of touch lower down.
“Jago, ask the Prince if he has any wounds on his arms.”
Suliaman sat in his tall chair with his eyelids drooping. I could tell that he’d taken a considerable amount of poppy resin. Perhaps his fingers were fine after all. The effect would wear off as soon as the resin had stopped working.
Jago shouted my question from the shadows by the horses, refusing to step closer into the fire light. “He says he has no cuts other than the sore on his neck which is not so bad after using your balm. The Prince expresses his gratitude and asks if you have anything to bring his fingers back to him.”
I didn’t want to upset the foreigner, especially after the wolf woman’s warning. Despite the trade with her, my medical supplies were not sufficient to treat him. If we were travelling in midsummer, or we were in my homelands where I know the best spots to harvest plants, I could have helped him. All I could do was to collect some trailing ivy by torchlight and entwine it about Suliaman’s highchair and arms.
“Tell him that my gods will protect him this night from evil spirits. This ivy forms a protective barrier from further harm.” The Prince allowed me to wind the scratchy vines about him. He seemed to trust my judgement more than that of his own healer.
Tallack drew a blade from a sheath on his hip and stooped to pick up the dead badger. “Not my favourite supper by any stretch, but it’ll do in a pinch.”
Every single one of Suliaman’s guards took out their curved swords, stepping forward in a collective lunge towards him. Their blade stopped just a hair’s breadth from his neck.
“What? What did I do?” Tallack shrieked. Cade and I ran towards them, begging them not to harm my nephew.
The tremor in Jago’s voice said it all. “No one can touch the offering under penalty of death.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Tallack stood stock still. The whites of his eyes almost glowed in the firelight. “What do I do?” He yelled, unable to defend himself against such a force.
“You need to drop the animal, Chief Tallack.” Jago insisted, moving closer for the first time since we got back from the marshes.
Tallack did just that. He opened both hands and the badger along with his knife fell to the ground. The guards did not retract their threat. More than a dozen blades rested next to my nephew’s head.
“Do something!” Tallack screamed at Cade and me.
Jago stepped up to the Prince. He knelt down in front of his chair and spoke quietly to Suliaman in a
humble and apologetic tone. Despite the use of resin, the old man heard Jago’s plea. With a small hand gesture, he commanded his guards to put down their weapons. Panting and staggering from shock, Tallack snatched up his knife and scurried away. Cade and I hurried over to see if they had broken his skin, but he was unharmed.
“I think we can safely say that we are travelling with extremely dangerous men.” He sat against a felled tree trunk. I fetched him a cup of ale to settle his nerves. When I looked back towards the fire, Jago was still on his knees at the Prince’s feet. He muttered a continuous sound in a low tone.
“Jago!” I called over to him. “Come here, boy.” He did not move. I shouted again and noticed a slight movement to Suliaman’s hand. Jago got to his feet and walked over to me. “Didn’t you hear me? What did you say to the Prince?”
“I said a prayer to the god, Melkarth.” Jago clutched his arms about his middle as if the experience pained him.
“I didn’t know that you had a faith. Is he a benevolent god?” We moved behind the empty cart of the Prince to speak privately.
Jago shook his head. “Not at all, Fur Benyn. He is like your Cernonnus, but angrier and harder to please. He rules over all their gods. I am not of their faith, but it is better for everyone if their rituals are respected. To touch a sacrificial offering is the highest blasphemy. It is not unusual for Princes to slaughter the entire family of one who insults the gods, even if they were starving.”
“So, these people are not the generous traders we assumed?”
“The Prince thought that the similarities between your name and that of their highest god, Melkarth, was a sign for them to follow you. It may give you a little protection, but not the rest of us.”
I poked my head around the edge of the wagon. The badger was returned to the base of the idol and laid out with care. Cade, Tallack and Renowden busied themselves building a second fire away from the Prince and his men to cook the latest catch from the skilled fisherman. My head swam with thoughts of fleeing. We were still on Canti land and relatively safe. There was still time to turn back and put the entire fiasco behind us.
Jago scrutinised my vacant expression. “If you are thinking of going back on your word, Fur Benyn, the consequences could be worse than insulting a god. They may look like simple traders, but they are also fierce warriors. In the warm ocean near my homeland, they have battleships bigger than Chief Tallack’s boat. They say that they capture a demon from the underworld and trap it within the bow of the ships. Only its eye can be seen staring out at their enemies. Some vessels have bronze posts attached to the front to ram into attackers’ vessels. Do not rile these people, great lady, or we will all suffer.”
That put paid to all my thoughts of escape. How could I have been so blind to their real characters. There was sure to be more testing times ahead of us. How would they react under harsher conditions when the Prince was sicker with his curse? I patted Jago’s shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile, but it failed to convince him that I was not concerned.
We joined Tallack around his fire and the huge pike Renowden had speared in our absence. Gutted and de-scaled the fish rested high over the flames, its flesh shrinking until the skin peeled and eyes clouded over. That was precisely how I felt, skewered. We could not go back and we were foolish going on. All the time we’d been heading north, our tribe back home was preparing for the battle of a lifetime against our warring neighbours. I looked to Tallack who seemed a little twitchy after his near fatal brush with the Prince’s men.
My only consolation was that if anyone could repel the Duros, it would be Blydh. He inspired confidence and courage in his men and abject fear in his enemies. Cernonnus only knows what became of Tallack’s half-brother, Paega, sent to roam the moors with the Priest Sect.
My recollections made me homesick, where before I sought only adventure. Now that our fates were sealed, I longed to return to our land all the more. There was little conversation around our fire or that of the Prince’s. We ate the muddy tasting flesh from the fish and rolled ourselves in warm furs next to the fire for the night.
Jago and I were on first watch. He picked at the springy bones from the pike carcass and tried to buoy my mood. “We can make the best of this situation. It doesn’t have to be bad for us. We will deliver the Prince to those healing stones and Chief Tallack will get his trade deals.” Neither of us believed a word of his little talk. It was more likely that the Prince would die before we reached the top of the world and there was no way to know how Maleek would react.
Eventually, Cade took over our watch, leaving Jago and I to sleep in peace knowing that he or Tallack had us protected. Come morning, Suliaman was lifted into the wagon on his chair along with the provisions and leftovers from their meal.
Jago looked at me with those huge doe eyes of his, imploring me not to force him to sit at the front of their cart. I could now see why he feared them. With a flick of my head, he swung a leg up over my horse and rode behind me. Neither of us were much more than skin and bone so it had little impact on the beast. We trotted alongside the wagon having little to say.
When the sun was at its highest point, we stopped to water the ponies and consider our route. Jago was summoned to the cart. The Prince had questions for us, realising that we were heading full west along rough tracks and trails. Cade and Tallack discussed the course and options before us. I was sent to inform the Prince of our decisions.
“We head west, Prince Suliaman, because there are a lot of wide rivers to cross in this part of the world. Further east they are too wide and deep for our horses. Our problem is that if we venture too far west, we might stray into another tribal region, one where tributes and pilgrim flags hold no sway.”
Jago did his best to translate, but the general response was a rash one. Suliaman wanted us to pick the fastest route, no matter the cost, whether that was in gold and jewels or our heads. I relayed the message back to Cade and Tallack. They sighed at his belligerence.
“He clearly has no idea of how big the Regnenses Tribe is. They have scores of clans and all are skilled in horseback warfare.” Cade warned.
“So, what is our best plan? We can cross this smaller river without entering their territory, but the big one on your northern border is vast.” Neither one of them had an answer. It was left hanging in the air like a bad smell as we set off once more for the crossing at Snodland. Cade wanted to make camp as soon as darkness fell, but Maleek insisted that we pressed onto the crossing in the dark.
Our torches picked us out for miles around. If there were any scouts on the western borders, they would surely report us to their clan leaders. Renowden kept us fed and watered, his age and experience with hunting small game had him darting off the track in pursuit of some tasty morsel every other moment. I was glad to have him with us, for he kept our spirits high with his ocean voyage tales and sightings of women with fins like fishes and siren calls taking them perilously close to coastal rocks. By the time we set up camp, he had five plump rabbits swinging from his horse and two pheasants.
For the second night in a row, we made separate fires and ate separate meals from our foreign counterparts. Maleek looked over towards Tallack. His forehead was ridged with concern. I thought I saw something in Tallack’s features too, a sort of wistfulness as if neither could resist the temptation to be together. Perhaps it was the notion of forbidden fruit, or the danger of being caught together that spurred them on. Either way, Maleek weakened first.
Carrying a bowl of food from their pot, Maleek wandered over to our fire and held it in front of Tallack. “For you. You like, very tasty.”
His grasp of our language had progressed so quickly, it took us all by surprise, so much so, that I began to suspect some ruse on his part.
Tallack gently took the bowl from him and looked at the swollen grains littered with chunks of meat and flecks of strong-smelling spice. One long sniff of the dish had Tallack coughing. A huge grin formed on Maleek’s face. Chuckling, he reached into t
he bowl with his fingers cupped together and scooped out some of the food before smearing the lot into his mouth. Chewing and smiling, he made pleased moaning noises, while encouraging Tallack to try some. This was a noble gesture on Maleek’s part. It would have taken a great deal of prior thought for someone of his standing to make the first move towards soothing the tensions between us. I held my breath, hoping that my nephew would see the action for what it represented.
Tallack peered into the bowl again, pinched a small amount of the sticky dish onto his fingertips and popped it into his mouth. Swallowing quickly, his eyes started to water, his tongue shot out and he sucked in air. “By Cernonnus, what is it? It burns my tongue.” Far from being annoyed, Tallack was amused. He sloshed a great gulp of ale down to cool his mouth and dug his hand into the grains for a second bite.
Maleek could not have looked happier. “It is good, yes? You like?”
I thought for a moment that the Prince’s son would sit with us and cement the cordial atmosphere between us, but he heard his father grumbling something in their language and hurried back to their fire side. Clearly, Suliaman was not pleased that his son was fraternising with someone who insults their gods.
The attempt at reconciliation did not allay all my fears. Neither were Tallack nor Cade fooled into thinking that we were now safe from the Prince’s warriors and Suliaman’s swiftly changing moods. We kept the same watches running throughout the night, to ensure a quick response should anything go awry while we slept.
At Dawn, we ate a little watery porridge, and saddled our horses before following Cade to the shallow crossing point at the furthest reaches of the Canti border. The horses struggled to pull Suliaman’s wagon through the silty riverbed even at the shallowest point.
Hitching our horses on the far side, we all mucked in to empty the load of supplies and jewels, metals and the Prince’s tall chair, giving the ponies a fighting chance of dragging the cart to the other side. At the time, I thought little of how we all must have looked. Since then, I wondered if our every move was watched by scouts of the ferocious Regnenses Tribe. Now they would know for sure that we were more than poor pilgrims travelling under the white banner. We had treasures to raid and noble heads to take as trophies.
