by Sam Taw
“And what would you have done about it? Blabbed to anyone who would hear and then you, me and little Delen would have all been for the chop. It was not a decision I made lightly.” I picked up my medicine kit and hurried from the hut before she could bark at me anymore.
I grew tired of complaint. Kewri tried to follow me, but I pushed him back. When Cryda couldn’t hear me, I whispered. “I’m not leaving camp. I just need to be out of her way.” That seemed to satisfy him that I was not off on another one of my travels across the moors.
Tallack caught up with me shortly afterwards. “As much as I would like to stay by my brother’s side, I need to speak with the elders.” He raced past me heading for the Long Hut. It was my only chance to tell him what I’d learned.
“Wait a moment, if you will.” I shouted after him.
He stopped and turned in the dirt. “What is it, Aunt. I have much to discuss.”
“I know, and with your permission, I should like to sit in and listen too, but this can’t wait. I have learned my lesson about keeping secrets, and this is another that you will not thank me for confessing.”
His expression crumpled into hopelessness. “This had better not be about Brea again. I’ve had more than I can take of that woman to last me a lifetime.”
“No Nephew, it’s about young Treeve.” It was a difficult conversation to begin. I tried to sweeten the gristle, choosing my words with care, but nothing could make my news palatable. We stood together under the dim light of the guard’s torches outside the Long Hut.
For a while he stared at the ground, calming his breath. I waited, wondering if he would dismiss what I’d seen as a mistake of some sort, that there would be a rational explanation for Treeve’s actions, but he said nothing. When the flush subsided from his face, he inhaled deeply, turned about and strode into the Chieftain’s Hut.
Most of the elders and their families were still there, even though the moon had crested the sky. Despite the yawns of exhaustion all about me, people preferred to stay close to each other. With our southern gate busted and fewer guards on duty, it was understandable.
While Tallack mounted the platform at the top table, I took my time to see who was within the hut. Derwa and Glaw sat in their places in front of the Chief’s tall chairs, the senior warriors filled the benches on both sides of the hall, and the elders and their families spanned the central space right to the back of the hut. Treeve was not in the room.
None of the musicians played. The grief from our losses was too near. People spoke quietly together until the jitters from fright and terror were soothed into calm. Tallack called out to a few of his men and three of the most senior elders to step forward. I moved closer to hear what he had decided to do about Faolan and his kin.
“But Chief,” One of the elders said. “Other than your foreign vessel, there are but two boats left in the fleet. We cannot hope to take on the might of the Novantae. By all accounts, they have an impressive number of ships, with a strong and well rested crew.”
The other elders murmured their support. Tallack glanced about at his warriors, none of them had anything to contribute. They had no solutions for our young Metern of the Dumnonii. None could see a way out of our situation.
I shifted forwards and cleared my throat. “May I speak, Chief Tallack?” He beckoned me closer and in front of all his warriors and the elders, I laid out what I considered to be our only course of action. When I had concluded all I had to say, they stared at me.
Tallack fondled the fluff growing on his chin, ruminating on my plan. “There is only one flaw that I can foresee, and that is that there are too few of us to make it happen.” More murmurs came from the useless old men, who had nothing helpful to say and were not sound enough in body to fight.
“I agree, Nephew, if we only consider your crewmen and Blydh’s warriors, but I am able in body and sound of mind, as are the wives of the men standing before you. If we all hasten and work together, we make better use of those who have a skill with bow or blade. Rally the whole tribe, Tallack, and we will prevail.”
The elders were not pleased with my suggestion at all.
“Chief Tallack, I don’t think we should put our women folk in anymore danger than they have already endured,” one said.
Another chimed in with; “Especially when you think about how many have already lost sons or husbands in the raids thus far.”
There were other complaints too, mostly rehashing what had already been said. Tallack looked lost in thought. His sight drifted to the back of the hall. I followed his train of vision, but only caught the foot of someone who’d just left without recognising them. His head was not fit for such decisions after all I had told him regarding his young lover.
At the risk of further censure, I clambered up to the top table and stood in front of Blydh’s chair. Clapping my hands together, I called out until I had the attention of every man, woman and child in the room.
“Hear me, friends. We have all suffered at the hands of the Duros this day, but it will be nothing compared to the losses we face against the Novantae. You will all have heard that despite our hospitality, the Skotek visitors have betrayed us. They wait in the next bay to seize our lands and kill our children.” Those who knew this already hung their heads. It was as though they expected failure.
Many of the women had no idea of the extent of our danger. They gasped, then shrieked at the thought of the Novantae enslaving our young and killing our elderly. Some thumped their partners for having not told them about the dire situation. It was as I had hoped. Stirring the emotions of the women folk girded them into action.
“There is a way to defeat the marauders before they can even make it to our shores, but it will need everyone in the compound to take action.” Senara set off the foot stamping. A few more joined in, pounding their fists on the tables and benches until the whole hut was one rowdy horde of angry women. “Are you all prepared to fight?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The bellows of the women folk drowned out that of our men. They would each protect their young to their dying breath. Tallack had his warriors, I had my shield maidens, weavers, dye makers, bakers and leather crafters. All were mothers, daughters, sisters or wives, and all were just as fierce as the men and not afraid of blood.
I turned around to face my nephew. “You have your army, Chief. Best make tracks before the day comes.”
It was a mad scramble, but the womenfolk were fast and efficient and used to taking orders. Senara led a team of her own, taking them across the marshes and along the eastern side of the estuary on horseback to build new beacons and position strong shooters. Tallack instructed his men to hide at the northern end of the channel, while he, Kewri and I took more of our tribe out along the western bank.
Kewri built a small fire from our supplies of juniper wood, shielding the flames with rock and stone. It burned with barely a trace of smoke. Further along the bank, our men and women did the same, crouching low in the sandbanks and dune grass.
We were almost set. With most of the arrows fired during the Duros raid patched up and reused, all our shooters were well armed. The waters were almost at low tide, the current winding around the shingle spit of the river mouth. Vast mud and sand banks protruded from the brine, like whales that lost their way and got stranded. I tucked my hands under my arm pits and wriggled my toes. The tiny fire was no help in keeping warm on such a bitter night as this.
Hunkered down in the frozen salt marshes, Tallack began to have doubts. “You think this will work?” He asked me.
“I don’t see why not. It’s practically the same plan you had when the Ivernii attacked. This time, we are rooted on dry land.” His jitters started to affect me. Perhaps he was right. We only prevailed in the last instance because Ealar sailed into the estuary with a greater number of boats and chased them away.
I couldn’t let Tallack know that I was not sure if my plan would work. He might have called it all off and made us run for our lives. “We h
ave the advantage here. Ealar and Greum think that our boats were lost. If they have any sense about them at all, they would have watched Renowden and your men sail the Phoenician ship way out to sea. They will think that we are defeated both at sea and on land by the Duros.”
“You’d better be right, Aunt, or the ambush will be on us instead of the other way around.”
“Ealar would never think that his sister would give away their plot or their agreed signal. This should work, provided that both the brothers sail straight into the river mouth.” I ran through the order of events in my mind all over again, trying to spot any fatal flaws.
We had the tide on our side this time, and no boats in which to sink. All our warriors and shield maidens could attack from dry land, providing they kept well out of sight until the time came. One misplaced flame or sighting of men on horseback and we’d be done for.
The waiting was unbearable. My innards trembled with the cold and with nerves. So many people’s lives were at stake, and all I could think about was Kerensa and Treeve. Why hadn’t Tallack said or done anything about him? Maybe he was waiting until this crisis was over before he dealt with such things.
When the moon was near the horizon, I saw the beacon flare up into the sky. Senara and her team of brave women had built and lit the first signal on the tip of the headland. Would it be enough to trick both of Faolan’s sons to steer into the river?
I imagined that all of our tribe stationed along the banks were holding their breath at the same time, hoping to see the first of the Skotek ships chart the twisting water course around the shingle spit.
“How long would it take them?” I asked Tallack, lying in the frosted grasses on the bank side.
He shrugged his response. “How should I know? I have no idea if they have oarsmen, or relying on sails. If it’s the latter, then it could take all kyjyan day.” He lifted his hand into the air. “No wind. I don’t know if they are waiting just outside our bay or further towards the Duros border. You do ask ridiculous questions, Aunt Mel.” I tried not to take offence.
A short time later, the first boat caught the tidal push into the river mouth. I guess that answered my question. At least one of the ships was in our bay. All my muscles tensed. I should have visited Cernonnus with more grain before leaving camp. He’d seen us right so far. Was it too late to send a word or too up to the Summerlands to ask for his help once again?
Rolling over onto my knees, I peeked over the grassy ridge and squinted into the darkness. “Come on Senara. Light the second one.” I muttered, wondering whether something had happened to the young shield maiden. Surely, she had left instructions with her group to set fire to another beacon closer to our camp as soon as the first was sighted?
My neck clicked and my back was painful, but still I craned to see across the estuary. There was only the one boat. It cast a shadow across the moonlit ripples as it moved rapidly through the water. When it veered closer to us on the west bank, I counted just four men aboard, rowing. Had they sent a scouting party to see if there was trouble ahead?
That was something for which I had not planned. If we fired on the four men now, the rest of the fleet would be alerted to us and our ambush would be ruined. If we waited for them to make it all the way into camp, they would discover that we were holding Faolan and Sorcha captive.
Tallack’s brow furrowed. I surmised that he too was thinking the same. We had underestimated the quick minds of the Novantae. We needed to make a decision and fast. The small boat was closing in on the narrowest end of the estuary where Tallack’s warriors waited with axes and blades.
A second beacon flickered into life further inland. Senara was true to her word, but I was not relieved. The plan would only come to fruition provided all the Novantae could be trapped at the turn of the tide. My heart thumped so hard I thought it might tear right through my chest. I found myself breathing so quickly, a dizziness took hold of me.
What if Faolan’s sons were still in communication with Brea? They would know by now that she and her new tribe had failed to overthrow us. Bile erupted in my gullet. How do great Chieftains keep their courage when the lives of all their warriors rested on their decisions? It was not something I ever wanted to do again. The responsibility weighed too heavily. I vowed there and then to be more tolerant of my young nephews. They were doing the best they could.
“This is going to fail.” Tallack groaned. “Those scouts will make it all the way upstream to the island if we don’t stop them. Either way, we’re done for. The Skotek warriors outnumber all our people. If they…”
I jogged his shoulder. “Look.” Pointing at the furthest reaches of the river, there was just enough light to discern the fleet of boats heading inland. “They’re coming.” The second beacon must have done the trick. I could just make out the larger ship of Faolan’s leading the procession of smaller boats. I assumed that by now Greum, the elder of his two sons, was in command. A nice enough lad, but in my opinion, he had more brawn than brain. We were lucky in that during my time spent with that family at the top of the world, I realised that the clever one was in fact, Sorcha, and she liked ale more than basket weaving.
The pain in my chest eased as the ships sailed closer. Everyone was in their place and awaiting the same signal Tallack had given before. A single flaming arrow arching across the night sky. Kewri fanned the shielded embers of our small juniper wood fire until he could light the greased strip of material fastened to the end of the arrow. Within moments, Tallack had it nocked and aimed ready to fire.
“Come on, you Skotek kyjyans.” He growled, as the boats rowed upstream to the narrowest point. As soon as the final vessel passed our position, Tallack let his arrow fly. It swooped high and for such a distance that it almost reached the sand bank on the opposite side of the wide river. That was all it took to trigger our whole tribe into action.
I could hear the rumble of the horse’s hooves from further south, as they galloped down onto the sand flats and crossed the shallows to trap the boats. Each man held a shield and carried a woman behind them armed with bows. From the eastern shore more rode onto the tidal banks to swell their number. Their calls and squeals were terrifying, as the women lined the narrow stretches and sent arrow after arrow into the Novantae men.
The moment they realised that they were hemmed in they attempted to turn the boats, sculling only from the port side and steering towards the open ocean. They were too late. The sheer number of arrows thudding into their vessels, ripped them apart. The more the wood splintered, the more the river poured into their hulls. Some of our sharpest shooters had direct hits, killing the men instantly while setting their clothing ablaze. Terrorised, a few jumped into the water, swimming through the deepest sections towards the sandbanks. They were picked off before they could make it to shore.
Tallack’s mouth hung open. “You were right to gird the strength of our women folk, Aunt. They’re deadly.” His grin spread from ear to ear.
The largest of their vessels remained virtually unscathed. It was showered with flaming bolts but took on no water. The sides were sufficiently high for Greum, Ealar and their men to duck beneath for cover. While their tribesmen were being brutally cut down, they drifted to the northern point unharmed. This was a vessel we knew well, for Tallack and I had travelled from the top of the world all the way to our own lands on the very same craft. It was built for endurance and distance. It would take more than a few burning arrows to make it sink.
Tallack could see that the change in tidal flow would push them to our line of warriors waiting for them at the northern tip of the estuary. “I need to be there, Aunt.” Dashing to his horse, he slung his leg over its back and cantered along the coastal path towards the island. Kewri and I watched as the group of mounted warriors picked between the soft sand and drier banks, closing any opportunity for them to escape.
The central stretch of the river altered from murky brown to patchy red. Great pools of blood eddied and bubbled with the wash from the changing
tide. The scent carried on the air, a mixture of salt and offal, shit and fear.
Some of the bravest shield maidens jumped off the back of the warrior’s horses and ran across the flats to reach those swimming ashore. It was quite a sight, their long hair flowing behind them, a crazed look of the Morrighan in their eyes. They had little trouble dispatching the stragglers, exhausted from their fight against the vicious currents.
Kewri stamped out our fire and together we mounted our steeds and galloped after Tallack. Most of our warriors did the same, squeezing the Novantae into the smallest section of the river.
I don’t know how we were all able to stay focused and awake. My whole body was weary, but my thinking was clear and fast. There were no more than thirty of the Novantae left alive. All of them were within Faolan’s prized ship, floating towards our fittest warriors. A few arrows flew out from the boat, but they were easily dodged.
Pulling up on my pony’s reins, I saw the strength of our forces and knew what the Ivernii were up against. It was certain death. I almost pitied them. These were people whom I had grown fond of, who showed me kindness and hospitality when I was at my lowest. They were exactly like us in many respects, just trying to forge a better life for their tribe.
How could Faolan have concocted such a devious plan against us? It was sheer luck that they were found out. If that scout had not seen the old man riding off towards the Duros bearing a white banner, then we would be precisely in their shoes, fighting for our lives.
Now they faced the wrath of all our tribe; those who’d lost friends, mothers who wept for their sons, fathers who had burned their daughters on the pyre. We would all lay down our lives to prevent our remaining children from becoming Novantae slaves.
Would Tallack spare the heirs to their tribe, or send them into the Summerlands without their heads? I sat high on the river bank, struggling with my decision to go closer. I liked Greum. I was fond of Ealar. I didn’t want to see them cut down with their entrails spilling over the silt and sand.
