by Sam Taw
“None of us killed your son. He fought bravely against the Belgae in protection of our people, me included. He sits with the gods in the Summerlands a proud warrior with his head held high.” I judged the Alchemist leader to be receptive to my explanation and gingerly stepped further into view. “Neither was Kerensa butchered. She was caught conspiring with our enemies. The Durotriges bribed her with false promises to spy on us. It almost led to our ruin. You know the penalty for betrayal.” I chose not to finish the account of events, thus avoiding the explanation of how her corpse was hidden. It was a shameful way to handle affairs. It made Tallack look guilty and worse still, gave the impression that Kenver was right.
“I saw her body, Fur Benyn. Her face was smashed in. I wouldn’t have recognised her if it were not for the tunic she wore, stitched by my wife’s fair hand.” He was panting his indignation, his breaths whistling through the bushy growth in his nose. “Even if what you say is true, how is it that she did not receive a fair hearing in front of the elders? None that I spoke to had any idea how she died.”
It was a fair point. Tallack accepted Treeve and Ren’s word that she was a spy and acted immediately. There should have been no need to hide her body, or for the lie about her dying during the attack on our compound. I needed to think carefully, since Kenver’s complexion was crimson and deepening in colour every moment. “There were reliable witnesses to her crime. The Chief had no time to summon the elders since we were preparing for imminent attack.”
Kenver’s fists balled at his side, turning them blotchy and pale. “That’s not how the young sailor described it when I was peeling off his skin and slicing his manhood.” He took a large pace forward. Spittle flew as he snarled at me.
I shuffled back behind Kewri, afraid that I too would be subjected to this grief-stricken and crazed leader. “I can assure you that she was not brutalised. Her face was disfigured after she had passed. Her body fell against a rock.” It was a minor bending of the truth but I deemed it necessary. To recount all that Treeve did to his dead daughter would’ve only angered him further.
“Then by your own words you condemn yourself as a liar.” His eyes narrowed to slits; his lips sucked in with contempt. “You told me that she was treated with dignity and respect and added to the pyre of the fallen.”
He was right. I had lied to him to protect my nephew. There was nothing that I could say or do to rectify what had happened, no way to ease back tensions between our clans. I couldn’t hold his gaze. My head bowed in defeat; we were wholly at his mercy. I could hear his noisy breaths slowing as he regained control over his emotions.
“Whether what you say about my daughter is true or not, the mines and the lands surrounding them belong to me now. Tell your nephew to pack up his things and take his men away from here or we’ll kill every last one of them. You included, old woman.”
It was futile to argue further. I’d lost Kenver’s respect. If anything, all I had achieved was to make matters worse, despite confirming much of the story given to him by Treeve under extreme torture. I was lucky that he didn’t subject us to the same punishment.
The miners waved their spears and bows towards the path back to camp, urging us to move with haste. Neither of us had any intention of hanging around in case they altered their minds and slaughtered us there and then. Kewri hooked his hand under my elbow to speed our return over the uneven ground. We didn’t even stop to fill the water bladders for fear that they were still on our heels.
When we got back to our huts, Kewri slammed the ducks down on the work bench and muttered something about telling Tallack what had happened. He left me alone and frightened, sitting on the edge of my bunk wet with sweat and dry mouthed from exertion.
Within moments, Ren hurried inside and took my face in his hands. “Are you hurt? Are you alright? I should have come with you.”
He meant well but his closeness was stifling. I couldn’t breathe. Leaning back, I pushed his arms away. “I’m fine. Leave me be. Kenver just meant to scare us. Did a fine job of it too.” I shouldn’t have snapped at him.
He stepped away and swallowed hard. I could see how much I’d hurt his feelings. “Why would he do that? What’s his game?”
“He wanted to send a message to Tallack that we can’t win. He’s the ruler of the mines, and if we’re not careful, all of Dumnonia too.”
Ren’s mouth fell open. “You think he will take over the whole tribe? But he doesn’t have the trade relationships or Tallack’s ship.”
I glared up at him. “It’s sitting in the bay. Kenver only has to kill us off one at a time before taking everything; our ships, our people and all our land. Do you really think he hasn’t planned this entire situation? You can bet your life that the pleasant and amenable side of him is just an act. He’s probably been trading with foreign vessels right under our noses for dozens of cycles. No doubt he learnt that kind of deceit from his father. He was not a nice man.” I added, allowing my vehemence to get the better of me. “We only have Kenver’s word about the quantity of tin extracted and processed by his clan. How are we to prove him wrong?”
I leaned my elbows on my knees and rested my forehead in my palms. There was no solution to this mess. One way or another, the Alchemists were set to take over everything. It seemed too carefully considered to be a sudden reaction to the deaths of his children. I couldn’t help thinking that he’d been waiting for the perfect time to strike, having simmered on the notion of becoming Chieftain of the Dumnonii all along.
Ren saw my distress and sat by my side, slipping his arm about me. Despite the feeling of being crowded, I let him hold me close. The last thing I wanted was to upset him further and I needed the comfort as much as he did. Kenver had secured the upper hand and neither of us could see a way out of this desperate situation. We stayed close and silent for some time, each of us mulling over all that had occurred since our arrival.
At length, I resigned myself to plucking the ducks for supper, if only to occupy my thoughts. It would’ve been so simple to have taken Ren up on his offer to flee the tribe when the chance arose and live for the rest of our days in obscurity.
With the benefit of hindsight, I should have left. These were problems fit for the young and strong, not the weary and cynical. I had given my life in duty to the health of our people, stayed by the side of each and every Chieftain since my birth. Surely, I had earned some respite in my dotage?
I looked at Ren as he rose from the bunk and began pacing the rushes on the floor. It was evident from his expression that he had not yet conceded defeat. His brow furrowed, his thumb and forefinger pinched his bottom lip. I watched him as he hunted through his memories in search of an answer. He was more determined than I to see an end to the conflict between our clans. For that alone, my heart swelled. There would be no escaping from our tribe now.
We talked and walked, ate and napped until our discussions began to circle back on themselves, every potential avenue explored and rejected in our quest for resolution. To make matters worse, a rider arrived at dusk to deliver a message from the Chief’s mother. Most of us saw him skid his panting and skittish horse to a halt close to Tallack’s hut and dismount. Those of us who dared, crowded around the doorway to listen to the news.
Tallack was in a foul mood. He stood with his hands resting on his hips and wearing an irritated scowl. The day’s sweat trickled down his bare chest, gleaming in the final rays of the sun through the doorway. Two of his men lit the torches. The Chief gestured for the messenger to enter. Warriors crowded around, making it impossible for me to see.
“Mind out…shift yourself, man!” I bellowed, elbowing my way to the front until I could enter the hut. It was a risky move but Tallack was concentrating too hard on the rider to be annoyed by my presence.
The messenger was gaunt and burnt by the sun. He was as agitated and restless as his horse, unable to stand still and blinking rapidly. He fidgeted before my nephew until Tallack grew impatient.
“Speak. What new
s have you from my mother?”
“It’s bad, Chief. She sent me to tell you that the men you left behind are overwhelmed. Skentel is doing his best to keep order, in between the building projects in camp, but the homesteaders are starving and fights break out daily. The elders have erected paling walls and tethered dogs around their huts to keep them out, such is the level of pilfering.” He took a breath and hung his head, dropping his gaze from the puckered lips and furrowed brow of his Chieftain. Within a few moments, he plucked up the courage to continue. “The Lady Cryda tried to impose a system of rationing, but there was an outcry over the pooling of resources.”
The messenger shuffled backwards, as though he was expecting Tallack to lash out. “If you’ll forgive me for saying, Chief, there is a growing discontent with your intended, the priestess. Word’s got round that she’s hoarding a massive stash of offerings and won’t share them, even though many of the new folk’s kids are close to death with hunger.”
This news shook me to the core. Endelyn had shown me nothing but generosity and kindness. It never occurred to me until then, that she might have singled me out for special treatment in the hope that I might ease her way into the bosom of my family. She had known hardship in her time, especially during the long winters at the Nine Maiden Circle on the moors, but to deliberately deny sustenance to the weak and sickly was low indeed.
Tallack turned away, rubbing at his eye absently. The messenger looked up at me for counsel, unsure if the Chief wished him to leave or stay.
I settled his quandary. “Has the Lady Cryda welcomed the Chief’s new Duro bride to the island?” I asked, moving towards the centre of the hut.
The messenger nodded. “We only just got her roundhouse prepared in time for her arrival. She was given the best fabrics and furs, slaves and jewels from the elders.” He looked shifty, stopping mid-sentence.
“And?” Tallack snapped, keeping his back to the poor exhausted fellow.
“And she complained that the slaves were too slow, that they didn’t know how to cook and that her hut was too humid.”
I thought Tallack might bark at the man, finding this to be his breaking point. Instead, he spun around and laughed. “If the foolish girl thinks that I have the power to influence the weather, she’s in for a rude awakening.”
I couldn’t determine whether my nephew was gripped by a bout of hysteria or was just plain overwhelmed himself. Nothing seemed to be working out as planned. It was as though we’d lost the gods’ favour entirely. Tallack’s tittering spread to his men, who laughed from his doorway behind me. As far as I could see, there was nothing amusing about our situation. It called for a rational head and decisive action. Without waiting for the noise to die down, I moved closer to the messenger.
“How long did it take you to ride here?” I asked him, unconcerned about my nephew’s reaction to my meddling.
“Three days. I changed horses twice. There aren’t many homesteads left in our region where I could make an exchange, plus I had to take a longer route around the burning moors.”
“They still burn?” I gasped. He nodded slowly, his eyes glazing with remembered fear. After all that had occurred with the Alchemists, the heath fires had slipped my mind. That put an end to the jollity.
Tallack was focused and listening once more. “Has my mother and the Duro girl set off for the midsummer binding rituals yet?”
“They were making their final preparations as I left, Chief.”
Tallack stared at me; a long and knowing look in which we shared our collective concern for their welfare. “And who was tasked with accompanying them across the moors?”
There was a momentary pause, while the nervous messenger thought about his response. “Um, Skentel and that Duro girl of Fur Benyn’s…” He peered at me for help with her name.
“Vina.” I supplied.
“Yes, she and Skentel discussed the trip and decided that there would be too few men left to keep order in camp if they escorted your mother and the priestess to the stones.”
Tallack sighed. “What did they decide to do about that, in…my…absence?” The last three words he positively yelled.
“They…um… arranged for some Duro warriors to ride alongside for protection.”
Tallack spun away reeling from this revelation. His hands flew up to cover his face, his eyes closed in disbelief. I could see it all inside my mind. One foolish decision after another had put us in an impossible situation. The Alchemists held all our wealth and influence, our people were starving and angry, our territory was on fire, and now our most valuable womenfolk were under the protection of our former enemies; a tribe that revelled in holding hostages and overthrowing weaker foes.
I did not need to spell out our misfortunes to the Chief. He was sober enough to comprehend them fully. We exchanged glances for a few moments, but there was nothing more to be said. We had no way to stop our family’s power within the tribe falling into ruin.
I’d heard enough and I had no solution to our predicament. With a dull ache in the pit of my gut, I turned to leave. Our men were ashen faced as they parted allowing me a clear path through the throng. The gentle breeze blowing along the valley was refreshing, but not sufficient to lift my mood. Suffering with aching joints, I wandered back towards my hut, and churned over all that I had to disclose to my friend.
In the twilight of the day, I watched Ren attaching strips of eel leather to a wooden panel, creating a hinge with the door frame.
“Got the skins from one of the men.” He grinned. “Thought we deserved a bit of privacy for a change.” Renowden welcomed me inside where he’d laid out a feast of roasted sea kale roots with toasted whelks and a huge, steaming pink crab. “After your scare with the Alchemists today, I thought you could do with a bit of spoiling.”
How could I tell him that I would have preferred the hut open to take advantage of the cool air after all his troubles? Biting my tongue, I smiled at him as he secured the door behind us.
The meal was far more than I could have expected. He must have spent the whole day foraging out in the blazing sun. I toyed with the idea of keeping the messenger’s news to myself so as not to dampen his happy disposition, but I knew that he’d wheedle it out of me eventually. We sat together and ate every last mouthful, teasing out the meat from the cracked claws with eager tongues. It was fit for the gods in every way.
When, at last, I relayed all that I’d learned in Tallack’s hut, Ren sucked in air over his teeth and shook his head. “I have to admit.” He said, moving over towards our bunk and smoothing out the furs. “I thought Skentel had more sense than to trust the Duros so soon after the peace treaty. I always took him to be a bright lad.”
I stacked our bowls to wash in the morning and followed him over to the bed. “Aye, it’s not like the lad to put Cryda and Endelyn in harm’s way.”
“Still, there’s nothing we can do about it tonight.” He stripped off his clothes and carried the torch over to the cold fire pit at the centre of the hut. The flame sputtered in the ashes and died.
Climbing on top of the furs, I said, “No, you’re right, but I shall worry about them nonetheless.” I snuggled down by his side and rested my head on his collarbone.
Ren kissed my forehead, slipped his arms about me and squeezed me tight. “Well, as things stand, they can’t get any worse.” His chuckling jogged my entire torso making me smile. He had a curious way of looking at things, ever hopeful, always calm.
Despite his attempts to pacify me, I could not sleep. I lay awake in the darkness until the moon was high and Ren was snoring. When I heard a dull thud, I elbowed him in the ribs. “What was that?”
He didn’t even open his eyes. “Go back to sleep. Probably a bird dropped something on the thatch.”
“In the middle of the night?” I sat up, but he was snoring once again. It was just a short time later that I caught a familiar smell, the acrid stench of smoke filling the upper roof space of our hut. The crackling noises grew louder unti
l there was no doubt in my mind what was happening. Coughing, I shook my friend awake, just as the first clumps of smouldering reeds fell onto our bunk.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Get up! The hut’s on fire!” I screamed, yanking Ren by the arm and pulling him free of the flaming patches of fallen material. My shoulder joint popped with the exertion; my heart raced in my chest. Every instinct told me to flee with all haste, but I had to make sure he was clear of danger. The sizzling timbers and roar of the flames pulsed with each gust of wind, spreading the embers across the width of the roof. The choking fumes swirled ever lower, prickling my scalp with the searing heat.
Ren rolled onto the ground and tried to rescue our furs but it was too late. The animal hair caught fire in an instant, filling the air with rancid vapours. Ren bundled our clothes into his arms while I grabbed my medicine bag and the precious blades. Together, we hurried outside calling for assistance.
I had no need to worry what the men would think of me wearing next to nothing. As soon as we were through the door, it was obvious that no one would come to our aid let alone notice my distress. The valley was thick with smoke, red hot sparks drifted as the wind fanned the flames over the roofs of every hut in our little community. Everywhere I looked, warriors spilled out of their shelters in blind panic, some with the presence of mind to grab their belongings, others shrieking in pain and dowsing their skin with water from the river. Horses broke free of their tethers and bolted upstream and away. A few of our ponies were slow enough for their owners to grab their reins and lead them to safety.
Through the wall of heat and charred reeds, I could see the remains of torches flung high onto the thatch of each hut. The Alchemists’ patience had paid off. This was the first night since our arrival where the wind gusted, making the job of burning us alive in our sleep easy.
My first thoughts were of those I loved. I snapped my head this way and that, trying to peer through the smog and haze in search of my nephew. “Where’s the Chief?” I wailed. “Has anyone seen Tallack?” Stumbling along the central path clutching my bag, I shielded my face from the scorching heat with a raised arm. The closer I ran towards his hut, the more Ren tried to push me back. He dropped our clothes and encircled me like a hunting dog, slamming the heels of his hands into my shoulders.
