Hermitage, Wat and Some Druids

by Howard of Warwick

  ‘So when the King didn’t come looking for your killer, you thought you’d wait for the investigator and then you could send bits of me back as a further provocation.’

  ‘Good, isn’t it,’ said de Boise.

  ‘Isn’t it a bit,’ Hermitage searched for the word, ‘mad?’

  ‘Shut up,’ de Boise snapped back. Hermitage had clearly touched a sore spot. Touched it with something hot and pointy judging from de Boise’s reaction.

  ‘I am not mad,’ the Norman insisted. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as anyone.

  Hermitage thought it best to change the subject. ‘And I suppose you sent the druid Gardle in advance to bring us here?’

  De Boise laughed heartily at this. ‘Oh, yes, that was easy, not that I knew you were already on the way. The old druid, the one who’s more plant than person?’

  ‘Lypolix?’

  ‘That’s the one. Complete idiot. After I’d killed the messenger I came down from the cave through the wretched mist they always have here, the old loon started dancing about saying I was a God come down from the sky.’

  They all turned to look at Lypolix, who didn’t seem in the least put out by the attention.

  ‘And what are you going to do if someone thinks you’re god?’ de Boise asked.

  ‘Put them on the correct path,’ Hermitage explained.

  ‘No. You’re going to milk it for all it’s worth. That’s what you’re going to do.’

  Hermitage just sighed and tutted, which of course had absolutely no effect on a slightly disturbed Norman warrior. ‘I even came up with the idea of the sacrifices all on my own,’ de Boise was very proud.

  ‘How nice,’ said Wat. He noticed that the Arch-Druid and Lypolix were now engaged in deep conversation.

  ‘Yes. I reckon if William isn’t provoked by his own precious investigator being sacrificed by a bunch of druids, then the man’s already dead. Bound to bring him galloping across the country at full speed.’

  Hermitage shook his head slowly. ‘I really think you’ve overestimated William’s concern about me. His concern about anyone really.’

  ‘Not his concern about gold though. Put it all together, Martel, gold, investigator, deaths piling up.’

  ‘I think even that would come second on list of things to do when killing people was in there as well.’

  ‘Well never mind,’ said de Boise, clearly getting a bit impatient with them not seeing that his idea of sacrifices was a good one. ‘We’ll get on with it anyway. Then, if your bits don’t bring William running, I can send Martel in pieces as well. I’ll just have to settle in here with all the gold and start my own Kingdom. Might be a bit of a bigger battle when he does turn up, but I’ll be well prepared by then.’

  They were all pushed along the path by de Boise’s new found army. None of whom seemed to have any concerns about the plan.

  ‘And you Banley,’ Wat asked, ‘are you going to participate in sacrificing a monk and sending his bits to William?’

  Banley looked at Wat and gave the obvious answer. ‘Have you seen how much gold there is?’

  ‘How much gold does there need to be?’ Hermitage asked solemnly. ‘How much gold do you need to look the other way while your brothers are put to their deaths?’

  Banley thought carefully about this. ‘Some,’ he said.

  ‘Some?’

  ‘Yep. There has to be some gold. And there is.’

  ‘Is that all it takes?’

  ‘Yes,’ Banley was very sure of this.

  ‘Why don’t you let us go?’ More piped up in de Boise’s face now. ‘I mean, if you only want to kill them two, there’s no need to put the rest of us to all this trouble.’

  ‘Let you go?’ de Boise looked astonished. ‘Actually,’ he pondered carefully, ‘that is a thought.’

  More nodded happily.

  ‘I’ve only sent dead bits to William so far. If I sent a live person who could explain everything it might work better.’

  ‘Explain everything?’ Wat asked with incredulity, ‘More? Explain everything? He can’t explain his own beard.’

  ‘Hm,’ de Boise thought some more, ‘perhaps I do need to send someone a bit more intelligent.’

  ‘Good luck with that then,’ Wat scoffed.

  De Boise was clearly irritated by this, ‘Listen weaver,’ he pointed a large gloved finger at Wat, ‘you’re going to be a hole in the ground with a rock on top in a minute, so I’d shut up if I were you.’

  ‘Right,’ Wat nodded slowly, ‘if I behave you’ll lower it gently, will you?’

  They were approaching the gaggle of huts now and the ridiculous idea of being sacrificed under a large rock took on a sudden reality in Hermitage’s mind. This really was ridiculous. People did not get sacrificed under rocks these days. Not that he had any recollection of days when it was commonplace.

  ‘What in the Gods’ names is going on here then?’ Hywel came forward from the huts to face the parade of the tied-up. ‘Who are you?’ he asked de Boise, who seemed to be in charge.

  ‘Your new King,’ de Boise announced.

  There was coughing from the back as Bermo and his men seemed to find this a bit of a surprise.

  ‘Or I will be, once William is out of the way. Who are you?’

  ‘I am Hywel, head man of this village. I don’t know anything about a new King.’

  ‘Well you do now. We’ve brought this monk and his friend to be sacrificed under the stone.’

  Hywel looked around the crowd that was now gathered in his village. There were more people than he’d be able to see off on his own. And the men of the village were still up in the hills mucking about with Wulf’s stone.

  ‘What’s Wulf doing tied up?’ Hywel asked cautiously, noting the large sword and other weapons hanging from de Boise’s person.

  ‘We’re going to do him as well.’

  ‘A druid?’ Hywel was shocked. ‘You can’t sacrifice a druid.’

  ‘We can, you know. Even your Arch-Druid seems to think it’s a good idea.’

  Hywel couldn’t see the Arch-Druid at the moment but would certainly be checking this.

  ‘Well you’ll have to wait,’ Hywel folded his arms, ‘there isn’t a stone here, or a hole to put it in.’

  De Boise looked about the place, annoyance on his face. ‘You, druid,’ he looked hard at Wulf, ‘where’s this stone?’

  Wulf said nothing.

  ‘You, ugly old druid, where’s the stone?’ this time he asked Lypolix

  ‘Upon the mountain,’ Lypolix cackled and pointed up to the hills.

  ‘What’s it doing up there? I want it down here on top of the monk.’

  ‘It will be, it will be,’ Lypolix did some sort of gyration, which he obviously thought explained everything.

  De Boise was looking to the hills, hand on hips and irritation on his face, when Wem and Caradoc appeared from behind the farthermost hut. They were pulling a rough cart, on top of which was a collection of flat stones. Every few yards they stopped, took two of the stones from the cart and laid them on the ground. They didn’t just drop them anywhere, they placed them carefully, looking back up the hill to make sure they had got them in line with one another and with the quite impressive trail of flat rocks that was now laid across the valley floor.

  Everyone watched this small procession without saying a word. It was such a bizarre sight that there was no obvious explanation for what on earth the men were doing. They were completely oblivious to their audience and carried on, happily dropping rocks on the ground and moving on.

  Eventually, they arrived at Hywel’s hut and looked at their cart with some frustration. There were no rocks left now, and the two men puzzled over the gap between the trail and the hut.

  ‘Now what’s going on?’ Hywel broke the silence, striding over to the men and examining their rock road.

  ‘Oh, hello Hywel,’ said Wem as he dragged his attention from his construction. He smiled happily at the village head, but
then his face dropped when he saw the huge group of people were gathered by the hut. ‘What the Gods?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s what I’d like to know. I’ve got a village full of strangers who eat all the food and do no work. Some foreigner who claims to the King and you putting rocks down all over the place. Has the whole valley gone mad?’

  ‘It’s for the stone,’ Wem explained his rocks. ‘We’ve discovered that the rollers work much better on a flat surface. So we’ve made one. Clever eh?’

  ‘I hope you haven’t damaged any crops,’ Hywel scowled.

  ‘Not really,’ Wem looked away. ‘It is a sacred task after all. Deliver the master stone.’

  ‘The one you’re going to drop on the monk?’ de Boise demanded.

  ‘That’s it,’ said Wem, happily.

  ‘And where exactly do you think this stone is going to go?’ Hywel said, condescending from his position of authority.

  ‘Wulf told us,’ Wem was still smiling, ‘it’s all sorted out.’ He looked to Wulf who, despite his being tied up, found somewhere else to look.’

  ‘So now you need to dig a big hole,’ Hywel pointed out, noting that there wasn’t yet a big hole in the village. ‘Causing more trouble.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Wem, looking back at the end of the rocky road. He turned back to Hywel. ‘Do you want to move your hut, or shall we throw it in the bottom of the hole with the monk?’

  Caput XXIX

  Digging for Bones.

  There was much protestation from Hywel at the final location of the master stone but he was outnumbered. He was outnumbered by druids who said it had to go there, by men of the village who had built a road to deliver it to just the right spot, and by quite a large number of men with weapons.

  De Boise, keen to get on with things, instructed what he now called “his men” to start digging. This they did, heedless of the fact that the place for the hole was the place Hywel lived.

  Hywel had tried a basic, “you cannot touch my hut”, but when some of de Boise’s men started to do exactly that, he stepped forward and tried to stand in their way. Holding his arms out to bar their progress, he watched as they walked round his outstretched arms and started to dismantle the back wall.

  Dismantling involved kicking the rude walls of the hut until they started to crumble. The roof was in danger of coming down before Hywel dashed inside to retrieve his possessions. As these were very few, it didn’t take long, and it wasn’t a few moments before Hywel was standing by his small pile of possessions looking at the much larger pile that used to be his home.

  ‘This is outrageous,’ he wailed. ‘You simply cannot do this to the hut of the village headman,’

  De Boise looked at Hywel and at the heap that was his hut. ‘We just did,’ he pointed out. ‘And now that I’m King, I think I want a new village headman anyway.’

  Hywel looked horrified.

  ‘Someone who doesn’t let their own home get kicked to pieces,’ de Boise scoffed at Hywel’s inadequacy.

  Hermitage noted that de Boise had gone from planning to be King to declaring himself as such. He looked around and thought that being King of this place was not exactly the pinnacle of regal achievement. He also noticed unsettled grumbling in the group of local men with the sticks, led by the one de Boise called Bermo. Even if they took against their new ruler, Hermitage could see there wasn’t much anyone could do. De Boise was well-armoured and had the weapons to go with it. The only one who might face him was John. And John had disappeared altogether.

  Typical. Just when you’re going to be sacrificed, the one person who might be able to do something about it is nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Now dig,’ de Boise instructed.

  It wasn’t clear who he was instructing, and so everyone stood around waiting for someone to arrive a start the digging.

  ‘All of you,’ de Boise yelled, drawing his sword and waving it menacingly, ‘dig.’

  Still everyone stood, each individual expecting the one next to them to be the one de Boise was talking to. It was only when he smacked Banley on the backside with the flat of his sword, and moved towards the other observers that they got the idea that “all of you” actually meant all of them.

  The ones not tied up approached the site of Hywel’s demolished hut and started to drag bits of it out of the way.

  ‘What do we dig with?’ one of the robbers asked, when the ground was clear.

  ‘I’ll dig with your head if you don’t get started,’ de Boise explained, helpfully.

  Wem held up his hands to call a halt and ran off to the village store, coming back with a few picks and rough tools, most of which were used for the crops or for woodwork. The main digging implements still being up the mountain with the stone. He didn’t like to point out that they wouldn’t have to dig very deep round here before they came to solid rock.

  Tools distributed, the team got to work and had soon made a reasonable impression on the ground.

  ‘How big is this rock?’ de Boise demanded, ‘I hope it’s big.’

  ‘It is pretty big,’ Wem confirmed as he dug into the ground.

  ‘Bigger than a monk?’

  ‘Oh yes, much bigger than a monk.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  Hermitage didn’t think it was excellent at all.

  ‘Surely they aren’t really going to do this?’ he asked Wat. He still couldn’t believe they’d got this far.

  ‘Don’t see how de Boise can send our bits to King William if we’re buried,’ Wat noted, helpfully.

  ‘He’ll probably only realise that once the stones are in place,’ Cwen mocked the Norman’s stupidity. ‘Then he’ll make us all dig the stones up again, just so we can get at you.’

  ‘Sorry to put you to any bother,’ Wat said, dryly.

  De Boise still had questions. ‘Are we going to get them all under one stone, or will we need more for the weaver and the druids?’

  ‘What druids?’ Wem asked.

  ‘We’re doing a couple of druids at the same time,’ said de Boise, ‘killing monks and druids and weavers with one stone.’ He seemed quite pleased with the efficiency.

  Wem looked rather worried at this, ‘I don’t think you’ll get them all under the one rock. It is big, but not that big. Er, why are we doing druids?’

  ‘Because I say so,’ de Boise explained. ‘Not that the King will be interested in bits of druids, but every little helps.’

  Wem looked around the faces for some guidance on this, but everyone looked away.

  The digging proceeded with little enthusiasm before, as expected Wem made his announcement. ‘We’ve hit rock.’

  De Boise stepped over to look at the hole. ‘Well, that’s not very deep is it?’

  The hole was only about four feet deep, which was actually quite good for these parts.

  ‘Does it need to be?’ Wem asked.

  De Boise thought about it. ‘I suppose not,’ he concluded. ‘If the monk is lying on a rock when the rock falls on him, it’ll be much more effective.

  The monk in question thought that the time to speak up was really getting quite close now.

  ‘Where’s this stone?’ de Boise demanded, seeing no sign of it.

  ‘I can signal the men to get it on the road,’ Wem offered, with little enthusiasm.

  ‘That would be good,’ said de Boise, making it clear that the next stone would be for Wem if he didn’t get on with it.

  Wem climbed out of the hole, turned towards the mountain and gave a piercing whistle through two of his fingers.

  After a moment there was an answering whistle.

  ‘It’s on its way,’ Wem confirmed.

  ‘How long ‘till it gets here.’

  ‘No idea,’ said Wem, ‘we’ve never done this before.’

  De Boise looked up at the mountain, looked at Wem and then leant forward and simply punched the man in the face.

  ‘Ow, bloody hell,’ Wem complained from the ground where he now sat. ‘What was that for?’

&nbs
p; ‘Many things,’ said de Boise. ‘Consider it a punishment for impudence. It’s also setting a very good example of what I’ll do to anyone else who causes trouble. Mostly it’s because I’ve just about had enough of this place, and it made me feel better.’

  The rumbling of Bermo’s men died down a little in the face of this naked aggression.

  ‘Bring the monk and the weaver,’ de Boise commanded.

  One of Bermo’s men, who happened to be closest, hauled Hermitage and Wat to their feet and pushed them in the direction of de Boise and the new hole in the ground.

  Cwen tried to get to her feet to do something about this, but was pushed back by another of Bermo’s men. Quite what she hoped to achieve wasn’t clear. Perhaps she wanted to get in the hole with Wat.

  ‘Er, Wat?’ Hermitage asked.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Now would be a good time to think of something.’

  ‘For once, Hermitage, I agree with you.’

  Hermitage thought that was very nice, but actually the thinking of something was more what he had in mind.

  They were pushed and shoved over to the edge of the hole and made to stand by de Boise.

  ‘This really is ridiculous,’ Hermitage protested, ‘there’s a much easier way to challenge the King than sending bits of people he knows all over the country.’

  De Boise turned to him and looked expectant.

  ‘You simply challenge him,’ Hermitage explained. ‘You just send a messenger, a whole live, breathing one, with word that you challenge the King. You have the gold and if he wants it, he’ll have to come and get it.’

  ‘Idiot,’ said de Boise.

  Hermitage couldn’t see why he was being an idiot.

  ‘If I did that he would come with full force, wouldn’t he? This way, he’ll think it’s just a bit of local trouble and come alone, or with a handful of men. Then I can get rid of him. I wouldn’t be able to kill him if the whole army turned up, would I? Honestly, you really should try to think things through you know.’

  ‘If we took word,’ Wat offered.

  De Boise looked again, although this time he was clear that Wat was just making things up to escape his fate.