Pagan Siege (Tribes of Britain Book 5)

by Sam Taw

  “Cryda. We must speak. It’s really important.”

  She moved in a half-circle around me and carried on walking. “Must we? I’m shattered and my slave needs to go and wash more linens through for Delen. Her stomach is upset.”

  I offered to examine the babe if she was willing to speak with me at the same time. When we got back to her hut, the slave was jogging the child in her arms trying to soothe her. Nothing seemed to work. When she saw Cryda, the girl offloaded Delen into her mother’s arms and dashed out with a basket of stinking cloths and mucky moss. It says a lot when a slave would rather wash infant kawgh from bindings than listen to the incessant wailing of a baby.

  I checked her over. There was no extra heat to her skin, her cheeks were rosy and she had no rashes nor swellings. She was simply irritable from the dry heat of the summer and too many leaves in her food. After I’d declared her fit, Cryda loosened the pin on her tunic and presented a nipple to the child. It latched on like a barnacle, making her mother wince.

  “Teeth coming through?”

  Cryda nodded. I did all I could to approach the conversation with tact and diplomacy, but I am not Renowden. My words came out as a slur on her son’s abilities.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Tallack is a superb warrior. He’ll beat any man in the tribe. Just you wait and see.”

  When I suggested that she and the child leave to visit her relations on Cantii ground, she laughed in my face. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home and my place is with my children. Honestly, Meliora. You were never this cowardly before. What has got into you?”

  I didn’t answer her, there was no point. At least my conscience would be clear if the worst happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Treeve moving outside. Loitering in Cryda’s doorway, I squinted in the sunlight, watching him duck into Tallack’s stores behind the guard’s back. Sometimes I wonder why my nephew even bothers to put a watch over that place. His men are hardly on their mettle. Within moments, the young crewman flitted back out the way he came with a small jug in his arms.

  Cryda was still mocking me when I left to follow him. I have never trusted that lad, especially after hearing him threaten Kerensa when she admitted that her end game was to become Ruvane and wife of Blydh before his injury. Treeve was fleet of foot, making it difficult for me to keep pace with him. Several times he glanced back to see if he was being observed. The first couple of times, I dipped behind a warrior tent or the empty grain store. When he hurried across the brown grass, there was nowhere for me to hide.

  Straining my eyes to their fullest capabilities, I saw him approach Endelyn’s place. Here, he slipped behind the carved icons of the gods. For a moment or two, I was unable to see what he was doing, until he reappeared without the jug and wandered away. What is that boy up to? I should warn Endelyn. Treeve may not have killed Kerensa, but I had no doubt that murder was on his mind.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I ambled back to my hut filled with worry. Endelyn was nowhere to be seen. Even a cursory glance at the jug gave me no clues as to what he could have laced it with. For most of the day, I watched and waited for her to return, completing as many of my chores outside next to the shelter.

  Vina was in one of her cooperative moods. “The priestess took your jar of valerian and some other bits she said she needed. Shall I go out and look for more to replace what she took?”

  “Yes, that’s a great idea, Vina. Thanks.” The sooner she was out of my hair the better. She took Tallack’s dagger and a hemp bag and headed for the meadows through the western gate. It left Kewri and I to fall into our old routines. He fixed, mended and chopped while I stripped leaves, pulverized and mixed various ointments and tinctures. All the while we worked, thoughts of my nephew’s demise encircled my mind.

  By late afternoon, Kewri came back from the wooded area at the western fringes near the pony enclosure fastening his belt around his leggings. “Fur Benyn, have you seen any of the new folk loitering about here?”

  I walked towards his shelter drying my hands. “No, why?”

  “Another one of your goats has gone.”

  “For the love of Cernonnus. This is getting tiresome. There’ll be none left at this rate.” I fumed. “It’s no use. You’ll have to move your bunk back into the hut and take the goats into the shelter. It’s the only way we can keep them safe.” He grumbled and moaned, but even he had to see that he couldn’t watch them all the time. Those homesteader children were faster than lightning and experts in hiding from view. My poor goats would be sliced up and in a pot before sundown.

  A little later, I saw Endelyn and Senara folding a long length of fabric outside their hut. Dropping everything, I hobbled down the boards to warn them of what I’d witnessed. They saw me coming and smiled.

  “Isn’t this just the finest weave you’ve ever seen, Meliora?” Endelyn smoothed her hand along the material. “You can almost see right through it.”

  “It’s lovely. I came to speak to you about…”

  “Yes, I’m glad you’re here. You were telling me about the dyes, in particular the colour of that tiny banner on Tallack’s ship. I want that for my binding ceremony gown.” She handed the bundle of fabric to Senara who went inside their hut.

  “What? No, as I said before. It’s not possible to achieve that colour without a particular sea snail.”

  “Well, where can I get those? I want the ceremony to be special.”

  I sighed. She was not going to let the matter drop. “A Phoenician Prince once told me that the snails live on the other side of the world. There is no such colour like it anywhere. You can have pale purple, but only when the elder or bramble fruits ripen in the autumn, or you can have red if you’re prepared to dig up enough bedstraw root to crush, but then Tallack won’t be too pleased if you do. His warriors rely on that. Your best bet is a nice bright ochre, as vivid as the sunset.”

  She pouted. “And what would I need for that?”

  “Alder bark, lots and lots of the stuff. It’s the inner part you need, so be prepared to get your hands well stained. There are plenty of those trees upstream along the river bank.” She had thrown me off my purpose. I almost walked away without telling her about the jug. Stepping closer to her, I lowered my voice. “I spotted Treeve here earlier today acting suspiciously. He left a jug behind the carved gods over there. Make sure whatever it is, you throw it away. I don’t trust that lad.”

  Endelyn flitted to the carved trunks and glanced behind them. “What jug?”

  I was stunned for a moment and followed her gaze. It was gone. “But it was there, I’m sure of it.”

  The priestess lifted the back of her hand to my forehead. “Have you been out in the sun all day? Maybe you should have a cool drink of water and a bit of a lie down.”

  “I’m not sick. I saw him do it. He took a jug from Tallack’s stores and left it here.”

  “Perhaps he meant it as an offering to the gods, but changed his mind. It happens from time to time.” The look she gave me wavered between mockery and pity. Why was everyone treating me like a simpering old crone?

  I scowled at her. “Pardon my interference, but you’d do well to heed my warning. Stay away from Treeve. He means to do you harm.” Her smirk was more than I could take. I stomped towards home furious with her condescension. How quickly she had taken on the mantle of Ruvane was astounding. Before I could set foot in my door, the watchtower horn sounded again. My spine crumpled with the thought of more homesteaders to delouse and feed, but when the gates opened and the bridge lowered there was a single horseman waiting to enter. I recognised him at once. It was Perren, the scout from the Durotriges Tribe.

  There was no mystery as to the message he carried, but I went to greet him anyway. His approach was justifiably cautious until he saw me. Any solitary Duro riding into a former enemy’s camp would be the same. I stood outside the Long Hut and waited until he was level with the door. His dismount was sprightly considering the distance he must have ridden.

&nb
sp; “Well, if it’s not our favourite spy.” I said, but not so loudly that others would hear.

  He grinned and held his arm out for me to grasp in greeting. “You look well, Fur Benyn. The summer treats you with kindness, I see.”

  “Ah give over. Save your flattery for Senara.” I laughed, but then noted his puzzled look. “Are you not taken with our fair shield maiden?”

  “Fond of her, certainly. Senara has no aims to make it more than that.” His perplexed frown slackened into one of sadness. I’d touched upon a raw topic. Common decency dictated that I changed the subject.

  “You have brought word from Chief Fane, no doubt?” I gestured for him to walk with me in the general direction of Tallack’s hut.

  “I have indeed.”

  “Then when you’ve delivered your message, you must come and eat with Kewri and me. I am determined to repay your kindness.”

  That put a smile back on his face. When we arrived at Tallack’s door, there were familiar sounds emanating from inside. Tallack was otherwise occupied with his crewman.

  “How about I take you to see Senara first, eh? Let you catch up for a while and as soon as I find the Chief, I’ll bring him to you.” Perren understood my distraction fully and played along like the fine fellow I knew him to be. I hoped to Cernonnus that he didn’t know with whom our Chief was busy, the Duros are not fond of deviations from what’s considered normal. Some might call them a prudish bunch.

  I altered our destination and quickened my step, calling out to the priestess and her close friend as we walked. They welcomed the scout into their home, introducing the young pup and offering him a whole range of exotic foods to sample.

  Endelyn poured him some Frynkish wine and served a few olives from across the ocean in a bowl. Perren had never encountered them before. He bit into one and shuddered as his teeth hit the stone. Its dry flesh and tangy taste shocked him. His face contorted and his tongue protruded until we were all in fits of laughter at his expense. While he was providing the entertainment, I slipped back outside and stood just beyond Tallack’s doorway.

  “Chief Tallack, your presence is requested. A Duro scout has arrived with a message from Chief Fane.” I practically bellowed it so that there was no way he could say he hadn’t heard.

  The muffled talking and bumping about inside continued for a short while. His rutting really was becoming most tedious. “He’s waiting for you at the priestess’s hut.” I shouted, irritated by his complacency over his relationship with Treeve.

  “Tell him I’ll be right there, Aunt Mel.”

  I could have continued walking south to Ren’s place, but I was curious as to how Endelyn would react to the news from Fane. Instead of leaving them to their own business, I returned to Endelyn’s hut and enjoyed the entertainment while I could.

  Tallack did not leave the scout waiting for long. Perren had drunk less than half a cup of the wine when he arrived, smoothing his hair down and folding his arms behind his back. A Chief did not greet lowly scouts in the same way that I had done. This was Tallack’s idea of exerting his authority over those of us in the room. It worked too, since Perren shot up from his stool and bowed his head to my nephew.

  “Chief, I have an urgent message from Chief Fane of the Durotriges.”

  “Out with it then. I don’t have time to waste.”

  “Right, yes. He asks that you give your decision immediately or he’ll take this delay as an indication that the truce no longer holds.” The poor lad couldn’t look Tallack in the eye, yet he was a good few summers older than my nephew and much taller.

  Tallack tipped forwards on his toes and frowned at the scout, feigning deep thought.

  Endelyn was all charm as usual. “What decision is this, my love?” I’d completely forgotten that she was not present at the borderlands when the two Chiefs last spoke together. Had Senara kept the news from Endelyn all this time or was she using it as a way to butt into the conversation?

  “Nothing for you to worry about. Walk with me… what’s your name, lad?”

  “Perren, Chief, if it pleases you.”

  Tallack backed out of the priestess’s hut gesturing for Perren to follow. “Aunt, if you will come and arrange for the care of his horse and such.”

  To be honest, I was shaken to the core that he wanted to include me in his negotiations after shunning me so viciously before. His moods were as changeable as his brother’s of late. I trotted after them, leaving Senara to break the news to her companion, if it was indeed news.

  When I caught up with the long strides of the men, Tallack was telling Perren that he’d be delighted to accept Fane’s daughter as his wife and that his Chief should send her directly to our camp where his mother; “Would guarantee her safety until our binding on midsummer’s eve.”

  I almost choked on my own breath when I heard him say that, for I was sure that Endelyn was planning their binding on the same day and there was no way she would share that ceremony with a Chieftain’s daughter from another tribe. I said nothing, preferring to listen and watch while he dealt with the fallout from his actions.

  “If you’ll permit me to speak my mind, Chief?” Perren said, increasing in boldness.

  They stopped walking and faced one another. Tallack nodded.

  “I know Fane’s daughter, Chief. She is… delicate and sensitive.” He tilted his head as though he was searching for the right words without causing offence. Now I saw why Fane valued him as a messenger. “If I were of a mind to avoid outbursts and unpleasantness, I would build her a home of such finery, that she had little to complain about.”

  Tallack grinned. “Is that so? Well, tell your Chief that his daughter will know no hardship whatsoever. Nothing will be spared in her honour. She will have so many furs and slaves she won’t know what to do with them all.”

  So, this was how men spoke about us women behind our backs. For some reason, my mind wandered to Tallack’s horse slaves. They too were given similar instructions since my nephew valued his steeds above all else.

  After they’d shared a knowing chuckle between them, Tallack invited Perren to stay a day or two to watch the Head Hunter trials.

  “That’s kind of you, Chief, and believe me when I say that nothing would give me greater pleasure, but I am under orders to return this very night.” I was disappointed that he couldn’t stay. On more than one occasion he’d shared his food and shelter with Kewri, Senara and me in the borderlands. I felt I owed the man.

  Before he left, I scuttled back home and wrapped a few cooked strips of venison for him to take and wished him safe travels. Tallack left us at the gate and returned to Endelyn to explain the deal he’d made with our new allies. I couldn’t imagine that would be a particularly jolly conversation in light of all her preparations for her binding day.

  When I got back to my hut, I found Vina and Kewri scowling at one another across the room. His bunk was back in its usual place and the goats were bleating in their new home under Kewri’s shelter. The atmosphere between them combined with the sultry heat made me snappy and tired. The bench with all my herbs and potions was a mess. Powders scattered, flowers crushed and jars upended as if Endelyn’s puppy had tumbled across the table.

  Tutting and mumbling, I picked a few of the items up and scraped the mess onto the rushes. “Did the priestess bring the valerian root pot back?” I asked Vina. She answered in the form of a shrug, while maintaining her glower at Kewri.

  There was something amiss with my things. The spilled blackthorn flower heads were everywhere. It wasn’t like Vina to be so sloppy. When I can get her to do some work, she was always neat and tidy. In light of the recent spate of goat thefts, I suddenly wondered if anything else had been taken.

  “Have either of you been at my poppy resin?” I must have sounded terse, for it broke their staring match in an instant.

  “No, not touched it,” they chorused. I was sure that the pot was three quarters full. There was barely a fraction left. If it wasn’t Vina or Kewri, then we wo
uld have to board the door every time we left to prevent further pilfering. If any of the men were injured during the trials, they would have to make do with willow bark for pain relief. I had no more tin to trade for resin.

  Things were looking desperate for more than just the homesteaders. Tallack had promised lavish goods and slaves to his new Duro bride, with no way of paying for them. The longer my nephew left it to deal with the insurrection at the mines, the greater the likelihood of Kenver forging trade links with foreigners behind our backs. We’d lose control over the mines for good, unless he acted quickly to restore order. That was, of course, providing he lived through the trials.

  At dawn, Treeve started banging that infernal shield again, calling all the Head Hunter contestants to the clearing beyond the river opposite the southern gates. Some of the men carried benches from the Long Hut so that the elders and those heavy with child could sit and watch the fights. Tallack ordered that the wooden paling structures be pushed back to give the warriors space to move freely. All that was left to organise was the pairings for each bout.

  Eight men stood in a line in front of Tallack and his Sea Warriors. Endelyn rubbed her belly and arched her back, exaggerating her suffering from the early stages of her pregnancy. My nephew took the cue. “Shall I have our chairs brought out for us, my dear?”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you, Tallack.” She simpered. His order to carry out his bear head chair was not surprising. What floored us all, was that he also demanded that his men collected his brother’s tall chair for the priestess; the Chieftain’s wolf’s head seat.

  I caught Treeve’s expression as the men set the chair down next to Tallack. His scowl would not ease. I cannot fathom that young man at all. His manner is too forward, his arrogance irks all the men and elders in camp, and yet his devotion to my nephew is astounding.

  Senara swooped down with a bundled sheepskin to cushion the seat. With her customary lazy grin, Endelyn lowered herself into position next to her intended. There was no way she would give way to a Duro bride. She had every intention of becoming the Ruvane, no matter the cost. That was evident to all as she sat there surveying the grounds before her.