by Sam Taw
What disturbed me more, was that after I heard raised voices and shuffling footsteps inside the covered cart, Tallack reappeared with a small smear of resin on the sleeve of his leather coat. Maleek had banished Tallack from the wagon with some of Suliaman’s poppy stash. What could I do, but turn a blind eye to the fall out and hope that they could make things right later on when things were calmer and nerves less frayed?
We stopped only briefly, to water and feed the horses before pushing on throughout the day at a steady pace. The closer we got to the coast, the more forgiving the trail, allowing us to travel swiftly to the large estuary on the western fringes. Here, Idina assured us, we could pay the fishermen to take us through the bay and north towards the isle where the stones lay.
We made camp at the water’s edge. It was bleak and windswept. Renowden did his best to catch us some supper, but the fish were flat with strong tasting flesh and too many bones. Not that I was hungry. My innards were still in shock from the attack. I kept my mouth shut and my eyes peeled, watching my nephew making a fool of himself over the depressed Maleek. Time and time again, he tried to encourage discourse, only to be sent packing to our side of the large fire Cade had built for us.
Idina sat with her hand maidens, speaking in hushed tones. It looked to me as though they were plotting, but more than that I could not say. Jago did all he could to make me comfortable and then took care of my horse. There was plenty of firewood and lots of flat fish to eat, but we were a sombre crew that night. Only the Prince and Maleek chose to sleep in the wagon. The rest of us stayed close to the fire, keeping a careful shift system of watches throughout the evening. Cade even took to his horse to ride to the highest hill in order to scout for us, not that any attackers would give away their location by lighting fires as large as ours.
We had to take Idina’s word for it that fishermen on the coast cared little for the raiding and pillaging that other clans took part in further inland. Theirs was an honourable lifestyle, fishing, gathering and digging for shellfish from the shores. They only cared if you strayed into their territory to plunder their catch before they could begin the day’s harvesting. I took this to mean that the Cornovii were not as organised as other tribes. Each clan raided as and when they liked without a tribal leader to watch over them all.
Idina said as much when I asked her to confirm my suspicions. “That’s more or less how it is, yes. There was a Chieftain of this region a few cycles ago, but he was slaughtered by his own men. They could not agree on a new leader, and so clan relations broke down.”
Cade listened to his new young wife when he had returned from his scouting trip. He sat opposite her, smiling at her pretty face as she regaled us with tales of the treachery from this region. Once again, she apologised for taking us through a territory she truly believed to be safe. Her father had given accounts of the scattered clans, leading her to think that the northern trails would be abandoned.
All the while she spoke, Cade’s eye lids drooped in an uncoordinated way. He was utterly besotted by her. She obviously had the measure of him, since she surrounded herself with her handmaidens, barring him all access to her body.
We were all starting to relax after such an ordeal, when the last two warriors lifted Suliaman from the wagon and then returned for the grinning statue. Each one of us shuddered at the thought of what would come next. Jago braced himself for another attack of tremors. Maleek remained in the cart, avoiding Tallack. Suliaman was still weakened from the blood loss, but with help, he managed to get to his feet and stand.
In the tongue of his homeland, he gave his warriors specific orders. They bowed and ran off towards the estuary in the darkness. We all sat their astounded to think that after all that had happened, this Phoenician tyrant still expected a ritual sacrifice for his god, despite the fact that it made absolutely no difference to the progression of the curse.
Suliaman chanted a few prayers at the idol, and then sat down in silent contemplation. The rest of us all exchanged glances, wondering if he was weighing up which of us should lay down our lives for Melkarth the grinning statue.
In the time it took to cook another flatfish, the warriors were back with arms full of clay. One stayed and began shaping the mud at the fireside. The second man returned to the bay for more. I took a long drink of my ale and peered down at the shape forming under the warrior’s careful hand, the half-moon eyes and grotesque grin was disturbingly familiar.
Tallack looked to me with a pained expression and shook his head. Like the others around me, I thought he was fashioning a second grinning god, but the face was spread across a flattened slab of clay. When it was almost complete, the warrior took out a blade and carved two holes in the eyes, a long slit for the mouth and another two in its ears. Suliaman had ordered the creation of Melkarth face masks.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
When the warriors had finished their labours, two finely crafted grinning masks were laid into the embers and covered with hot ash. We looked to the Prince for an explanation but he was surprisingly tight-lipped on the matter. I jogged Jago with my elbow, hoping to illicit an answer from him, but he was dazed and trembling again. This can only spell more trouble. Suliaman was back in his tall chair and issuing more orders.
I grasped hold of my cloak and tightened my fist around a blade I had stashed among the folds. If the warriors came close to those I love, I would fight with every fibre of my being. Instead, the men stepped over our legs and bundles and walked over to the horses.
“The white one.” Suliaman shouted to them, pointing at my pony with the grey dappled markings. The same horse who had seen me across hill and vale for days on end since our feast with the Cantii. Anticipating what the Prince had in mind, I opened my mouth to protest, but Tallack stopped me, grabbing my arm and fixing me a glare.
“Don’t. Better a horse than one of us.” My nephew muttered, although we all heard him.
I truly believe that my dear pony could sense what was going to happen. He fussed and whinnied and refused to walk closer to the fire. With a slap to his hind quarters, the warriors forced the beast closer to the Prince.
I couldn’t look, my fondness for the creature balled up in my throat. Biting my knuckle to prevent myself from calling out, I turned my back to the ritual just as Suliaman raised the blade to the horse’s neck. The noise was sickening. A metallic swipe, a visceral ripping, followed by a loud splatter of blood on dry stones and sizzling flames. My white beauty groaned and toppled, before crashing to the ground. So many creatures snuffed out and all for nothing. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
Tallack patted my arm. “You didn’t need him anymore. Aunt. It is probably better that he was dispatched by a skilled blades man rather than the butchers we would have traded him to come the morning. I knew he meant it as a comfort, but it was more like salt in my wounds. The rest of our horses and the cart would remain in this little cluster of fishermen huts and dwellings along the estuary, while we sailed onto our destination.
Jago stood at my side, frozen and staring at the masks cooking in the fire. It was as though he had not even noticed the sacrifice before his eyes. I gave him another bump, to make sure that he was not suffering from a form of his seizures, but it was just a fearful stupor.
We slept in shifts. Idina and her maidens were put into the watch rotation along with Jago and myself. With so few of us left, we had to be more vigilant than ever. The fire burned all through the night, cooking the clay into pot. Come morning, the warrior who had made the gruesome objects, pushed them from the embers and let them cool.
I made some porridge and served ale to those who were awake and making ready to leave. We all watched the foreigners with the expectation that they would kill another bird over the masks. They did not. Instead, they waited until they were cool to the touch and wrapped them in some of the Prince’s spare robes, before tying them to their backs.
We took the wagon and remaining horses down to the riverbank and agreed to let Idina ne
gotiate our passage. She assured us that they were more likely to trade with her, since she could almost understand their distinctive local dialect.
Tallack gave her some of his own tin with which to make the deal. I didn’t envy her. The attack from the Cornovii had tainted my opinion of clans in this region. They fought with no honour, I suspected that they would trade in a similar vein.
Idina took Jago along with her after seeing his courageous defence of the Prince with the bronze long sword. I admit that it surprised me too. Jago was always such a soft-hearted lad, so compliant and hardworking. It was as though his previous masters had beaten any hope from his bones before Tallack brought him to our shores.
It gladdened my heart to think that his former personality might still lurk among his down-trodden ways, but I couldn’t quite reconcile his actions during the raid. Ever since we met the Prince and Maleek, Jago had been petrified and respectful of them to the point of frozen fear, yet when the attackers approached the Prince, he stepped in front of danger to defend him. Even with the threat of dark magic, I’m not sure I would have done the same in his shoes.
I pushed the questions from my mind, concentrating on the next leg of our journey. Idina and Jago were gone for most of the morning in search of boats large enough, with fishermen willing to take us to the Skotek Isles. When at last she returned, Idina was full of apology.
“It took all of your tin to persuade them to take us. I gave them half up front, so we must hurry or they might cast off with your money and we’ll never see them again. I left Jago to keep an eye on them, but they are wary of a boy with painted skin.” She looked to Tallack for signs of forgiveness, although I thought how determined she was to prevail when others of our group might easily have faltered.
“Good on you, Idina.” I said. “Let’s wrap things up quickly and get going. Tallack has more than enough tin back home. Don’t you go fretting about it now.” I reassured her, patting her back as I hobbled past. Cade gave me a beaming smile. He was already bending to her charms after their brief marriage. Old Osbert knew what he was doing binding those two together. It won’t be Cade leading the Cantii when his father perishes, but Idina and her clever mind.
Maleek stayed in the cart with the bloodied idol and his father until we reached the shore. The raiding party had shaken them both, not to mention the wounds that were inflicted. Tallack added the resin from his sleeve to water and drank it all down. It must have been a strong decoction, since I couldn’t get any sense from him at all about the boats Idina had hired. He was half addled at a time when we needed his expertise.
In desperation, I turned to Renowden for advice. He peered over the water’s edge to see the hulls of the crafts as they sat low in the water. They were all a good deal smaller than our own vessels, and a fraction of the size of Tallack’s Phoenician trading ship.
Twisting his mouth to one side, he scratched his thumbnail against the hair on his chin. “Seen better, seen worse, Fur Benyn. They’d be alright on calm waters, but up between them Skotek islands…” He sucked air across his teeth and shook his head. That did not fill me with confidence. Jago saw us from further along the bank. He looked fresh faced and self-assured, rising from a cross-legged position on the grass to greet us.
It was only when the two warriors lifted the statue down from the cart that Jago resumed his terrified stance. What power does this clay figure have over his people?
With the boats moored in a long line, we all set to unloading the few remaining belongings, provisions and weapons down from horses and the wagon until all was safely stowed aboard. Cade insisted that Renowden took the lead boat, having the most knowledge of the coastline among us. Jago and I squatted in one of the central boats while the Prince, Maleek and his two warriors took the largest vessel at the back. Idina and her handmaidens travelled with Cade and Tallack in the second largest vessel behind Renowden.
As small as the boats were, I felt easier knowing that if one capsized, there would still be adequate room in the remaining vessels for us all to reach land. We set off almost immediately, leaving the cart and horses with the settlers as part payment for the journey ahead. My medicine kit stayed with me, although not wrapped about my person. I had learned the dangers of blades at sea during our last voyage.
The hops I bought from the wolf lady on the Cantii estuary were steeping in one of the fresh water bladders, providing the Prince with a plentiful supply of sickness tonic on his boat. With Maleek and his warriors to take care of him on a separate vessel from us, Jago and I relaxed and let the tidal waters carry us into the bay.
I reckoned that we were travelling at a faster speed than a cantering pony. The fishermen steered us into the choppy waters in the centre of the channel, which swept us all out to sea long before nightfall. I kept watch along the river banks for any signs of vicious raiders who might set loose a shower of arrows from the sides, but the place was deserted. A cold supper of dried meat kept us going, until later in the evening when Renowden’s lead boat steered towards shore. The fishermen, it seemed, were not prepared to sail through the night.
The tide was out when we helped to pull the boats onto the sand banks near to the next river mouth. Grasses were scant and gave us little from which to build a fire. The Prince’s warriors hit the beach running, ordered to search for another sacrifice suitable for the godly statue. I could not stop thinking about the grinning masks wrapped in fine fabrics and untainted by blood.
When we all congregated together, I noticed that Tallack had regained some, but not all of his senses after the resin dose. Maleek still avoided his gaze and loitered like a pouting child behind Suliaman’s tall chair. Jago followed Idina and the girls into the dunes in search of useful material for a fire and anything to supplement our meagre rations. He seemed his most cheery in their company, and I was glad to have him away from the effects that the idol had on him.
The Prince slid down the back of his seat, crumpled into a wizened heap. The tonic of hops was not helping his sea sickness. I hovered close to him to try and catch sight of the state of his stump. The bindings were black with dried blood. It really needed a clean dressing, but I was loathed to offer my services.
What a fool’s errand I set in motion that day in the Frynkish port. We could all be back at the River Exe, helping Blydh to rebuild our homes and fortify the defences against Duro attack. Tallack could be training up more youngsters to swell the warrior ranks and Jago would still be happy trailing Cryda’s babe. Instead, we were cold, wet, hungry and in constant peril. The trade agreement was looking more remote every day as Suliaman’s health declined and Maleek retreated from my nephew’s advances.
I wondered if Maleek also regretted his actions, the day he agreed to accompany his father into exile in search of a cure to lift the curse. He would sit at his uncle’s side, learning the wisdom of great leaders in a civilised city of culture and written words. He would command great fleets of vessels, most being larger and deadlier than Tallack’s fine ship, patrolling the shoreline to protect their trade routes. Maleek would be a man of great prominence, rather than the wretched creature I saw before me.
Him, I pitied. Him, I wanted to protect. It was not his fault that we were in enemy waters surrounded by hostile clans. Maleek did not make the decision to offer himself as a tribute to an evil god from far off lands. He saw it as his duty to do all that Suliaman demanded of him, even if that meant relinquishing his happiness, or perhaps his life.
I took a little willow bark from my kit and held it out in my palm for Maleek to see. He understood that I was trying to help him. He gave me a defeated smile. Closing his eyes and holding his hand up. “Thank you.” He muttered, opening his eyes and taking the bark gently from my hand. A moment later, he saw me looking down at his father. “Can you help him too?”
I was taken aback at his request. Considering all that Suliaman had subjected Maleek to, I thought that he’d be content to let the man suffer. I sighed deeply, but did not feel that I could refuse. Wh
at good would it do any of us to let the Prince rot away in his chair before our eyes?
Looking at the state of the bindings, I knew that cleaning and redressing the stump would cause him great pain. There was the possibility that the numbness from his cursed state could have travelled to his arm before the hand was severed. I tested my theory with a calculated prod. Suliaman stirred with a whimper. There was still some sensation from around the burned flesh.
“I need to give him poppy resin.” I said to Maleek. I knew not whether the raiders had made off with the large Frynkish pot of resin, or whether he had supplied Tallack with some from a separate source. Neither did I want to find out. I unsealed the wax from the little jar I had been given and took out a small quantity for the Prince’s cup. At least if he stayed addled, he was less likely to feel anything. The clean-up was relatively straight forward once Jago had built a small fire and I could see from the light of the flames.
As I cleared away my kit and filthy bindings, Suliaman’s warriors returned with a large black seabird with a graceful neck. It did not fight, nor flap as they carried it along the beach to our camp. My stomach sank at the thought that it might already be dead. Never before have I wanted a hunted creature to be alive more than at that moment. Without a sacrifice for their statue, Suliaman could insist that Maleek open his veins over the idol all over again, or worse. As they drew level with the fire, it was startled by the sparks and flames. It strained against his grasp, trying to peck his hand. My relief was profound. We had averted catastrophe yet again.
What I couldn’t understand, was why some days it was sufficient to kill a bird while another day required a horse and another something as precious as the nobleman’s son’s blood. How did the old man decide what should be offered in appeasement? The only way I could discover this peculiar state of affairs was to ask Jago, and I was not about to upset him again after seeing him smile for the first time in days.
