by Sam Taw
The enormous Phoenician craft was a prize in any tribal hoard. Tallack made sure that there was always someone aboard to raise an alarm if a raiding party attempted to take her. With the threat of the Ivernii ever present, my nephew had increased the number on watch to more than a dozen. They now hurried about the deck in preparation.
One of the smaller vessels rowed closer to us on the shoreline. It was a seasoned canoe crafted from rough-hewn planking and sealed with a leather hull treated with birch tar. Since Tallack got hold of the Phoenician vessel, he had less need of the smaller boats. They were mostly used for short trips relaying goods and passengers to the Phoenician craft. I wondered what the Iverni ships would be like by comparison. Was Tallack and his men in for serious trouble, or could we fight them off unaided?
Kewri and I waited until his men came close to the riverbank and told them that Tallack and his warriors were not far behind us, before we galloped off to the coastal path. A couple of things in our favour were the enormity of the estuary and the strong currents that were hidden within. Strangers to these waters would easily be thrown off course, or swept out to sea with the force of the tide. The bay itself was deep and riven with shifting sandbanks to beach those who did not pay attention to its ways. Again, there we had the home advantage.
It was roughly a quarter day’s walk to the beach from the island, but it took much less on horseback. With our ponies well fed and rested, plus the salt flats drier than usual from the kind weather, we cantered to the headland in no time at all. Kewri dismounted as soon as we reached the beach. I was too stunned at the sight before us. The Iverni ships were not huge and ornate, like Tallack’s, but they were plenty in number. As far as I could tell, each smaller craft held at least a dozen men or more.
Their sails were tied and oars extended as they approached the narrow gap at the river mouth. I hoped to Cernonnus that Tallack and Faolan had formed some sort of plan against such a number of men. I counted as many as thirty crafts before the bobbing waves made me lose track. How were we to out manoeuvre half such a number?
Kewri tethered our horses and walked across the dunes looking for driftwood. We would need a fire to stay warm in the biting winds, depending on how long we would need to stay around to tend to any wounded men. I sat at the dry high-water mark in the sand and pulled my cloak about me. Feeling utterly helpless as they rowed ever closer, I suddenly wondered what I’d do if one of the Ivernii swam to shore with an injury. Would I feel compelled to heal their wounds too, or would I be overcome with extreme hatred for my enemy and command Kewri to kill them? I felt the pressure of that question pressing down on my chest, but I said nothing. I would have to make that decision if and when it happened.
Until the time when I could offer my skills, all I could do was watch and wait. If the sea battle looked to be favouring the Ivernii, Kewri and I would have to ride like the wind back to camp.
“You don’t think that the Duros are attacking the island at this very moment, do you?” I asked Kewri when he returned with the sticks and driftwood. He dropped his armful of supplies and shrugged. For a few moments he considered my words, frowned and said; “Do you want to return now, Fur Benyn?”
I looked at the sky, the ocean and the sand for inspiration, but no guidance came to me from the gods. “I don’t know. What if right this very moment, Lady Brea and her Duro Chief are slashing and burning their way through our family and friends?”
Kewri scratched the back of his neck and pulled a face. How would he know? I was not helping matters with my anxiety. We’d made a decision to be on call should Tallack or his men need us. That was all we could do for now.
The land at the end of the River Exe is relatively flat, little more than salt marshes and sand dunes. There were no high points where we could view both the estuary and the bay at the same time. As the sun moved into our line of sight, we watched the Ivernii boats approach the river mouth. It was a tense time. Would Tallack wait for them to paddle into the estuary, or sail out to meet them in the bay?
When it looked like they would enter the river, Kewri strapped the wood to the backs of our ponies and we walked along the beach to see where our men were stationed. The last time I had travelled in a boat with my nephew along the river, he’d let the current take us on a winding journey along the deeper channels. Now that the Ivernii boats were close, I could see old Dathi, their Chief leading his men in a more direct path. Did he know how shallow the waters were at this time? Was this the basis for Tallack’s plan, hoping that they would become stranded on a sandbank at low tide? It was a risky gamble, since the ocean was nowhere near fully out.
Kewri led us back along the coastal path, by-passing the salt marshes and sending the waders and gulls shrieking into the air. If the Ivernii hadn’t spotted us before, we had certainly announced our presence with all the noise from the bird calls. Now that we were alongside the widest stretch of the river, it was easier to see the whole estuary. Where were our men? The Phoenician ship sat at anchor in the central and deepest part. The smaller crafts of our fleet surrounded it, but all were still. From such a distance it was difficult to see who, if any, men were aboard.
Was Tallack going to let the Ivernii sail right up and take possession of our most prized vessel? In a flat panic, I kicked the pony’s flanks and hurried further inland. Had something befallen our tribe?
That was when I saw the flicker of light on the Phoenician ship. Where the sleek curve of the stern arched up and over the deck, a chain hung down on which a metal basket for small fires was suspended. This glowed brightly. Someone had lit the stove.
I pulled back on my horse’s reins and stopped. Kewri did the same. As Dathi of the Ivernii gazed in wonder at the proud lines of our foreign beauty, I saw the bowmen sneak along the deck to set their arrowheads aflame. Tallack planned to surprise them all.
My stomach flipped and sent a burning surge of bile into my gullet. It was a risky strategy to employ, since it allowed the enemy to completely surround our boats in order that they should be close enough to fire upon. Was this Faolan’s idea, knowing what was at stake if they failed? The funnelling wind stung my eyes. Was it strong enough to extinguish their arrows before the flames could catch hold of the Ivernii warriors and the wood of their boats?
They were almost at the point of no return when a single arrow let loose from the Phoenician ship. As soon as it was air born, the game was up, it was all or nothing. It soared high over the boats and rippling water and thudded into the hull of an Ivernii vessel. This was Tallack’s order to fire. His men laying in the smaller crafts sat up, nocked their arrows and loosed them at will. It rained bolts from all directions, some aflame, others simply seeking the hearts of men. The plan seemed to be working for a few moments. The Ivernii flapped about in shock trying to scoop water onto the burning darts while others ripped them from the hulls and threw them overboard as more fell from the skies.
The first few volleys took out more than ten of the Ivernii warriors, but their crewmen took action. They stowed their oars and lifted shields above their heads. Overlapping the wooden protection, the blazing arrows embedded but the flame soon burned out. It needed something else to get the wood to catch.
It was as though Tallack was channelling my thoughts. Some of his men hung over the sides of the ship and threw bladders of watery grease over the shields and men. That got it going. Those with oars reversed their trajectory, steering them away from danger. The men holding the flaming shields slung them into the river. They were exposed once more.
I jumped for joy on the bank side, thumping Kewri’s arms to join me in celebration. He did not move. Turning my gaze back to the fleet, I saw what Kewri had noticed. While our men attacked from the starboard side of the Phoenician ship, they had not paid attention to the Ivernii crafts approaching their port bow.
With hooks and lines, they grappled the planking of the ship and dragged their own craft close enough for their warriors to board. Carrying blades and axes, the sneaky Ivernii w
ere cutting their way through our men before they knew what had happened. Necks were opened, bellies slashed, and entrails spilled out onto the decks in a slippery mass attracting the gulls in massive numbers.
More of Tallack’s crewmen scrambled to join in the fight, paddling their smaller crafts closer to protect their Chief and the best ship in the fleet. Those aboard tripped on the long oars, others fell overboard, some swam to the small boats, only to be bludgeoned over the heads by the wicked Ivernii men.
Our numbers were decreasing every moment, warriors, youngsters, and women falling at their hands in equal measure. The muddy river took on a dark colour where their blood churned in the currents. I held my hands over my mouth in despair. There were so many of them. Their nimble boats swarmed between our larger unwieldy ones, delivering their most able fighters to the most vulnerable of our crewmen.
It was every man, woman and child for themselves. Tallack’s plan and coordinating orders were abandoned. Staying alive was all that counted now. The Phoenician ship was overrun with feral Iwerdon head hunters, Dathi’s most elite force. They each bore tattoos on their foreheads like a mark from the gods. The distance was too great for me to see what the markings showed, but each one of them fought with the might of twenty or more of our recruits.
One of their largest warriors stepped up to young Treeve, lifting his axe above his head in readiness to strike. Tallack dived into the path of the falling weapon, shielding the young crewmen from harm with his short bronze sword. He was much taller than my nephew, with the hardened muscles of a mature warrior. He would not be so easily dispatched.
One of our smaller boats began to sink. A thrown axe cut a chunk from its hull, letting in the River Exe and tipping out all its occupants. Weapons sank beneath the bloody waves while the dead floated out to sea.
Tallack and the huge warrior rounded each other in the stern of his ship. Treeve cowered between the storage boxes snivelling. Bow women discarded their bows and picked up the spears and pikes from their dead menfolk. They were fierce, with as much, if not more, to lose than the warriors before them. They jabbed and stabbed anything in their paths.
Tallack made the first move, lunging towards the vast warrior with his blade. The wily man stepped aside, letting the youthful Chieftain scurry right past him. Each man turned quickly. Tallack stooped to grab a fallen pikestaff, wedging it under his arm for stability.
My breathing quickened. He was no match for this seasoned foe. He had neither Blydh nor Renowden to guide him and little experience on which to draw. I knew that Tallack would not back down. There was no way he would allow the Ivernii to take his ship while there was still one warrior left to fight.
Another of our boats tipped and sank beneath the surface. Our enemy cared nothing for capturing our fleet for their own use. Their only interest was killing as many of our people as they could find.
The warrior on the Phoenician ship swiped his axe about Tallack’s head. It missed by a hair’s breadth. The next blow would be more carefully gauged. Tallack darted to the warrior’s side, keeping the pikestaff blade between them. For every giant stride the man took closer to my nephew, Tallack hopped backwards and jabbed the pike towards his enemy. I could see the man losing his patience. This was closer to a dance than a fight.
Baring his teeth, he snatched the pike into his hand by the sharp end until it sliced into his flesh. Without so much as a whimper, he yanked it from Tallack’s grip and slung it overboard. Now all that stood between this maniac and death, was a small bronze blade and Tallack’s wits.
Even at my distance I could see the warrior grinning. He backed Tallack into the tightest point of the stern. Treeve crouched beneath Tallack’s legs, tucking his head to his knees. I could hardly bear to watch, as the warrior moved in to strike the fatal blow.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Two of our most loved warriors were at this man’s mercy. I could tell from his casual stance that he relished every moment of his impending victory, the Ivernii head hunter who killed the Chieftain of the wealthiest tribe in the land. An accolade that would stand him in good stead for the rest of his life; he would take home my nephew’s head as his prize, along with the Phoenician ship to add to their fleet of small boats.
I knew that he could afford to take his time. There was nowhere for Tallack to run nor hide. His tiny blade was no match for the heft of the warrior’s axe. With all the swagger of victory, he knocked the short sword from Tallack’s clutches, took his axe in both hands and lifted it above his head. Before it reached its highest point, young Treeve scooted forwards on his knees and buried a knife up into the warrior’s groin.
The cry could have curdled blood. Treeve twisted the blade before wrenching it free of the man’s parts and plunged the knife in again. On Treeve’s fourth shove of the blade, he cut through the vessel in the man’s thigh. Blood gushed all over him as Tallack slipped past the warrior’s thrashing axe and retrieved his sword. It took moments for our Chief to slash his throat and put him out of his misery.
At last I could breathe again, but the skirmish was far from over. Those who were still able to fight, swam towards the Phoenician ship. Other’s too badly injured made their way to shore. The rest were carried with the tide, face down and losing their organs and tissues to the fish below.
Our men were gathering to their leader aboard our greatest vessel. Where was Faolan? He was conspicuous by his absence. How had he come to be away from the fight after Tallack’s express orders to follow him?
There were still at least ten Ivernii boats surrounding our men. Dathi was in their largest craft, directing his men from the rear of the fleet and out of the direct line of fire. Few bowmen were left to pick off those enemies swimming from capsized boats.
Those of our warriors who remained, were outnumbered and completely surrounded. Some of the Ivernii still shot arrows up towards Tallack’s crew, others threw grappling hooks with an intention to board. Treeve took hold of the dead warrior’s axe and ran around the deck cutting any lines that managed to take hold. They were closing in fast and then there would be no opportunity for escape.
Kewri laid his hand on my shoulder and then gestured to the injured on the shoreline, gasping, rolling about in the mud and silt, and all bleeding from devastating wounds. I had to help them, but my mind wouldn’t concentrate. It’d been a long time since I had tasted the bitter air of a battle field, and my strength was not what it was when I was young.
The wounded cried out for my assistance. I had to respond. Kewri led the horses down behind me and began building the fire for hot water. I unpacked my bone needle and catgut; plantain paste and bindings and sat on a rock to begin my work. Those who could walk without complaint waited until I had assessed the condition of the seriously injured. How some of them made it back to shore with half their guts hanging out I’ll never know.
One woman lay with her face split in two. I could smell the foul stench of death leaking out of the slash in her belly. There was nothing that could save her from the Morrighan now. All I could do was to take a pinch of poppy resin and slide it under her tongue without adding any water.
I gave her enough to numb her of every sensation and held her hand until the gods came to take her into the Summerlands. She was no older than my niece Derwa. When her groans of agony subsided, I closed her eyelids and moved onto my next patient.
This was grim work indeed, but it kept my attention so fully, I had to look up to see why our tribesmen were cheering. It took a moment for me to focus, but there at the river mouth were the sails of more ships. These bore the blue banners of the Skotek tribe, the Novantae. At last, our allies had arrived just in time, although a quarter moon ago would have been preferable.
As soon as the Ivernii saw the arrival of so many ships coming to our aid, they abandoned their attack, took to their oars and rowed like the spirits of the Underworld were on their tails. Having the smaller vessels, they were able to cut right across the shallow waters near to the sandbanks, thus avoid
ing steering into the path of the much larger Skotek ships in the deeper parts of the estuary.
We were saved. I wasn’t sure how I felt about my injured patients standing guard over the riverbank with their blades in hand ready to cut the throats of any Ivernii who might make the mistake of swimming to shore, but at least I could treat people without fear for my life.
It took me the rest of the day to tend to all those who were nearing or close to death. The walking wounded I stitched and patched and sent them back along the river path towards the island. I asked Kewri to return to the compound to fetch the Chieftain wagon for the dead. He refused to budge.
“Send one of the warriors on your horse, Fur Benyn. I won’t leave you here with the Ivernii in these parts. They may come back and stick a blade between your ribs while you’re not looking.” He folded his arms and wouldn’t be swayed on the matter. I must admit, I did feel exposed there on the shore with no cover from trees nor cliffs. As soon as I agreed, one of the less hurt men volunteered to ride back.
It was a long time before he returned with a cart, and it did not belong to the chief. I laughed when I saw the rickety old thing he’d borrowed from the smith. It still had bits of wood and a dusting of sand and clay in the back.
“Why in the name of Cernonnus didn’t you take the Chief’s wagon?” I asked the warrior. Had Tallack returned to the island? Who was in charge there now?
“The hunters had taken it out to move the white stag from the forest into the compound. It was all I could find.” He said, jumping down to help Kewri lift the sick and dying aboard.
“And the Chief?”
“Didn’t see him. Chief Blydh is still in your hut, Fur Benyn, recovering. There was only Ren about the place.”
Where were they all? I squinted in the darkness to see across to the Phoenician ship. The tiny fire at the stern still burned brightly, but I would have expected a guard to have stayed aboard as a minimum. Black shadows against the muddy waters were visible, bobbing up and down with the choppy movements of the tide. Those I took to be the smaller ships of the Novantae.
