by N. M. Browne
‘Here, take this!’ Dan thrust the golden, sweat-slick hilt of Bright Killer into Ursula’s unwilling hands. ‘Tell him you speak for me and get us out of here, Ursula. I can’t help you just now.’
He spoke through a muffling wad of exhaustion that insulated him from the world, from remorse and even from responsibility. He could not help Ursula tonight.
He wrapped himself in the proffered wool cloaks, took the wineskin and settled himself a few steps from the corpses, against Braveheart’s back. Gwyn poured water into his cupped palm. The animal, seeing that the man posed no threat to Dan, lapped it up thirstily before curling himself protectively around Dan. Dan took a deep draught of the warm sweet mead and was asleep. Gwyn gave Ursula a sharp look, both curious and hostile, and left them in peace.
It was all right for some. Just how did Dan think she was going to get them out of this situation? They should make a run for it really, but it was just not possible. Ursula felt tireder, colder and more wretched than ever before in her life. The ground was damp. Cautiously, Ursula moved next to Dan and Braveheart. Let the dog growl. She did not think he would attack a friend of Dan’s. It was a gamble she was prepared to take. The huge war-hound opened an eye, but allowed her to settle next to her classmate. Dan stirred briefly and mumbled something about a blanket. He threw the loose end of the largest cloak towards her and sank back into sleep. More than a little self-consciously, Ursula laid down beside him under the cloak. It was warm. She stopped trembling. In the middle of a battlefield strewn with the desecrated bodies of the dead, Dan and Ursula slept under strange stars.
Chapter Eight
Acute cramp woke Ursula at dawn. Her cloak and hair were damp with dew. She struggled to her feet, trying not to wake Dan. Braveheart growled an acknowledgement of her existence but thankfully did nothing to attempt to terminate it. The scene was every bit as bad as she had remembered, but the heap of cadavers that had fallen to Dan’s bear sark efficiency had gone, to be replaced by a heap of decapitated heads. She averted eyes that were drawn to the gruesome sight like a child’s to a crushed bird on the pavement. As she moved, the dark-haired tribesman, Rhodri, also moved. Had Macsen set a guard on them? She supposed that they were still prisoners of sorts. Yes, of course Macsen would have set a watch on them.
Macsen and his men were up and about. The horses and baggage were arranged in a circle surrounding Rhonwen’s leather tent. It was a pale, grey morning and the small cookfire smoked badly in the damp morning mist. The ground had been cleared of bodies and a fresh mound of dark earth marked what Ursula guessed was a mass grave. It was a cheerless scene. Ursula wished she could have stayed longer in the oblivion of sleep. She massaged the muscles of her calves. Even as the cramp eased she still ached in every bone and her head hurt. The smell of death still permeated the moist air.
Ursula approached the fire cautiously and squatted down to bask in its meagre heat. No one took any notice except for Rhodri who watched her under the pretext of readjusting the pack on one of the animals. She felt like a criminal, which was strange, as she was the only one in the camp who had not killed someone.
Macsen and Rhonwen stood a little way apart arguing. Rhonwen looked as if she had spent the night in silken sheets. She looked unstained by battle or by the discomforts of the night. Ursula was suddenly aware of the mess she was in. It was another reason to dislike Rhonwen. Ursula strained her ears to listen. If she was going to get herself and Dan away from here she needed to learn all that she could.
‘Rhonwen, my esteemed sister, I forbade you to get involved. I will not lose any more women to the Ravens. Especially not you.’
Macsen’s tone was exasperated, Rhonwen’s defiant.
‘Without me it would be your neck that was looking a little light this morning.’
‘The Ravens don’t take heads.’ Macsen was getting angry. ‘They’re so mighty they have no fear even of our warriors’ ghosts. They have no respect for sacred mysteries. You should know that as well as I.’
‘You know perfectly well what I mean. Without my illusion you and your men would have died a glorious warrior’s death, and you would not be here arguing with me, plotting to fight another day. It doesn’t seem to me that you’re in any position to turn down help – even from a woman. A bit of gratitude wouldn’t go amiss.’
Rhonwen’s seductive voice was transformed into a harsh hiss of anger. Ursula glanced around and saw Macsen’s men very busily not listening to this exchange. She had the feeling that few people spoke to Macsen that way. For a fraction of an instant it looked like Macsen was surrounded by an aura of vivid fury, that flickered like flame, then was gone. Ursula wondered if she was about to have a migraine. His voice was tight as if he reined in his temper as he had his horses.
‘Rhonwen. That snake-tongued runt of a dog, Suetonius, has slaughtered thousands of us. Who’ll bear our warriors if all our women die in battle? We need King Cadal’s help. He wants you as a living royal wife. He will not be too impressed with a dead one and we need him with us, Rhon. Especially now.’
‘You mean especially now you’ve lost faith in my magic. What about the dragon, eh? And The Bear Sark.’ Rhonwen sounded petulant.
‘One boy, Rhonwen. One boy and how many Ravens oppose us? And the other, Boar Skull, he is no warrior, though what he is I don’t know and it seems, neither do you.’
Rhonwen’s expression acknowledged the truth of this. She sensed that Boar Skull was dangerous but that was all. Macsen continued, his voice more reasonable, placating even.
‘Rhonwen, I think you should forget the Veil. The Bear Sark is the first one who has been any use to us and it is not enough, Rhonwen. It was a dream and a brave one but this is not the time for dreams. I need men in battle and women in the marriage bed. You must go to the Sacred Isle, to Cadal. You will persuade him to loan me all his warriors and you must bear him many fine sons for the good of the tribe. If you would do that you would serve us now as well as the Iceni’s Boudicca did in her time. I will have your obedience in this, sister, as my sword is my witness.’
Ursula felt herself colour at the reference to her uselessness, but she was chilled by Macsen’s talk of marriage beds. For the first time she had some sympathy for Rhonwen. Macsen had clearly never heard of equal opportunities.
‘And this is what our brother died for, is it?’ Rhonwen sounded desperate. ‘So that those who can wield the magic of the land will waste it. I am the nearest thing you’ve got to a druid and you will not command a druid!’
Macsen’s rejoinder was drowned suddenly by a scream that pierced the mist like a power drill, then another and another. It was Dan. Ursula did not hesitate, she just ran towards him, terrified of what she might find. What would make a bear sark scream?
Panic made Ursula faster even than Macsen’s men who followed her with drawn swords. Dan had his back to her. His arm was hooked around the neck of his giant hound, as if for support. He was staring at the heaped heads of Macsen’s vanquished enemies and screaming. He appeared quite mad.
Ursula felt very cold inside. She was horrified by her own selfishness but her first thought had been, ‘Don’t let Dan be mad. I need him to be sane.’
Macsen looked at a loss. ‘Knock him out someone, he will alert every enemy for miles around.’
Gwyn moved as if to comply but Ursula leaped in front of him. She had no weapon but her desperation and her determination. No one was touching Dan.
‘Leave him alone.’ Her voice came out as a rather pathetic girlish squeak. ‘Don’t touch him!’ This time she sounded firmer.
Dan’s screams fell on her ears like physical blows. She needed to stop him but she did not know how.
‘Let me help,’ Rhonwen’s voice was silk once more. ‘I have some gift for healing.’
‘You will go nowhere near him!’
Rhonwen smiled and Ursula heard at an almost subliminal level the low buzz of her power, the electric tingle in her bones. Rhonwen was going to do something to Dan. She was g
oing to get at his mind somehow, like they’d tried to get to Ursula through the Cup of Belonging. She had to shield Dan from this assault. He had saved her. Ursula had to save him. How?
Ursula backed towards Dan, keeping her eyes on Rhonwen. She did not dare touch him. Maybe he was mad enough to kill her with his bare hands. Ursula would believe Dan capable of almost any feat, superhuman or otherwise, since she had seen him fight. She wished she had a shield to place round him, like the great wooden wall that Prys had carried in the fight. Perhaps that would repel Rhonwen’s power-filled will, as Prys had repelled the enemy’s spears. She pictured the vast shield. She was probably one of the few women tall enough and strong enough to hold it and carry the weight of the wood with its huge bronze shield boss that was almost a weapon in itself. She had no such shield, only a burning desire to protect Dan. She fixed Rhonwen with her most granite-eyed stare.
‘You will not harm The Bear Sark.’
Rhonwen’s smile faded and Ursula felt the woman’s power flag a little. Rhonwen looked bemused. Dan’s screaming did not falter.
‘Well?’ Macsen’s eyes challenged Rhonwen to prove her power.
‘Oh Dan, please be calm. I can’t keep them from killing you if Macsen gives the word.’ Ursula whispered the words under her breath. She did not think Dan could hear her, but suddenly, unaccountably, he stopped.
Rhonwen immediately took the credit, accepting Macsen’s approving nod with another irritatingly self-satisfied smile. Rhonwen had not done anything, of that Ursula was certain. Somehow her power had died too soon to get to Dan. Rhonwen’s pale face was damp with sweat and Ursula was surprised to find her own body clammy with perspiration. Her head hurt so much she hardly dare move it, but Dan had stopped screaming and nobody had hurt him. Before she could enjoy the luxury of relief, Macsen spoke.
‘Gwyn tells me The Bear Sark gave you his sword. Are you his Lord?’
He eyed her appraisingly. She knew important things hung on her answer, but she did not know what they were.
She was very aware of the hostility of the men towards her. In their eyes she was a coward or worse for not immersing herself in the bloodbath of battle. She thought rapidly. The men might kill her if they thought her useless; if she was important to Dan they may be more likely to let her live. Ursula did not know what being Dan’s Lord might mean, but it had to be better than being his dead schoolmate.
All eyes were on her.
‘Yes, you could say that. I speak for him.’
Macsen nodded.
Rhonwen intervened while she had the chance. ‘He should undergo the rite, Macsen. How can we be sure The Bear Sark will stay with us without the rite?’ Her voice shook a little.
Ursula knew she was disturbed by the failure of her power. Bands of pressure tightened around Ursula’s skull. Whenever she saw that woman, Ursula got a headache.
‘I don’t think the Ravens will accept him with open arms, Princess Rhonwen, not with a brace of their fine skulls on his bridle.’ Kai still held his sword, uncertain of Dan’s next move. His voice was amused.
‘I would be more confident of your opinion, Kai, if you had not failed to perform the rite properly with this Boar Skull.’ She shot Ursula a black look. ‘This Boar Skull and The Bear Sark are more strange to this place than you realise. Those who call to me across the Veil cross worlds. They do not know us or our ways without the rite. They know nothing of our beliefs, our dreams. Why should they fight for us if they are not part of us?’
Kai looked embarrassed. Rhonwen was never going to let him forget that they had learned nothing from Ursula in the rite. She was never going to let him forget that Ursula had not been imbued with the values of the Combrogi in the rite. Rhonwen was not a forgiving woman.
Ursula cared nothing for Rhonwen’s relationship with Kai, she did not notice the insult. Ursula felt sick. She believed the part about crossing worlds. Her very bones knew the truth of it. She had believed that at some level of her consciousness, perhaps from the first moment she had breathed this foreign air. She was not sure she dare tell Dan, if he had not heard it for himself. She felt something very like despair wash through her. Their situation was hopeless. How could she ever get them home now? Shock had distracted her from her surroundings for a moment, then she realised Rhonwen was still talking.
‘ … He must be brought to the tent and I will perform the ceremony … ’
Gwyn again moved forward.
‘No!’ Every instinct in her rebelled against the very idea of the Cup of Belonging. The memory of the foul aftertaste in her mouth and the sickness after her own brush with the Cup of Belonging hardened her resolve. She did not know exactly what the rite did, but it was some invasion of the mind of that she was sure, some sharing of the participants’ thoughts. Dan’s sanity was too fragile to risk.
‘I will not allow The Bear Sark to undergo this thing,’ Ursula said.
‘You will not and who … ?’
Rhonwen got no further. At that moment Caradoc made another of his dramatic reappearances. He was breathless and dishevelled. He wasted no time on formalities.
‘My Prince. It’s as we thought. One of the Ravens did get away and on one of your ponies. He’s heading straight for Deva. Even if the Raven did not recognise us, someone there will recognise your brand on the pony sure as day follows night. The legion will be heading for Craigwen in days.’
Macsen seemed to sag a little at the news. He sounded weary when he answered.
‘It is well that we know it, Caradoc. By Lugh, I should not have come. Suetonius needed no reminder that we live still unconquered. He’ll be after us now with a whole legion. Within days he’ll have transformed this skirmish into a serious Combrogi uprising. He’s only needed an excuse; now he’ll get all the support he needs to crush us.’ His sigh spoke of something deeper than weariness. ‘We should have stayed at Craigwen. Rhonwen’s dreams have brought us nothing but two lads. And if coming here were not bad enough I should never have brought our own ponies. It was so foolish but I know of none better for such a long, hard ride.’
He looked pained. Ursula did not really understand what was wrong but if it distracted everyone from Dan, she didn’t care. Cautiously she touched Dan’s hand. He did not flinch but he did not return the pressure. He had not moved since the screaming had stopped. She tried to see his face, but once more he had buried it in Braveheart’s neck. The dog did not move, but stood offering what comfort it could, as if he understood. She hoped he was all right but could do nothing to help him now.
The Combrogi all looked grave at the news. Macsen seemed almost to physically shake himself.
‘It’s too late now for regrets. What’s done is done.’ He paused, struck by a sudden thought and a terse smile momentarily lightened his bleak expression. ‘The Ravens will know fear if our stray legionary tells the truth. Seven against fifty – that should give them something to worry about. Now all we need is about a thousand more men and at that rate, we can rid this whole island of their black wings.’
It was true, as Ursula suddenly realised. If she could forget the horror of the battle and think of it objectively, it had been a stunning victory for the Combrogi.
‘If the legion marches on Craigwen now we are finished,’ said Rhonwen quietly, all her outraged pride forgotten. ‘We are not ready for a siege. It will be a siege Suetonius will try.’
‘It is not quite hopeless,’ Macsen answered without conviction. ‘Of course I would be happier to get the women and children away. The negotiations with King Cadal are well under way though he’ll not take them without Rhonwen and most of my gold.’ He flashed Rhonwen a meaningful look. ‘We have not enough men and the preparations for a siege are only half done, but it is not hopeless. There are some people I know who may be able to detain the legion a little longer to keep them from your heels. Kai, I would have you ride back to Craigwen and make the necessary preparations. Word has been sent to the Carvetii, the Ordovices, the Novantae and the Damnonii. They have promi
sed to send men to train together and learn something of the Raven tactics. Hane has been studying their ways for years and fought on their side once or twice when too young to know better. If anyone can forge a united fighting force from the tribes it will be him. You saw how they fought. It takes a dragon to break their concentration! If I can delay them, somehow keep them busy in the south till the winter, bad weather may also be our ally and we will have some time to prepare. The Ravens love a siege and if half the tales I’ve heard are true we will have to have some very clever tricks prepared to keep them from our throats.’
Kai looked worried. ‘What of King Lud and the Brigantes? I thought …’
‘Kai, we need them, but Lud’s his mother’s son. He’ll take some convincing, I know. Let us do this night and the next enough to keep us living for the night after and the one after that. I will try to make it back by Lughnasa or failing that Samhain.’ Macsen sighed.
‘We will eat and then we should be on our way. Rest a while, Caradoc. I am sorry I cannot provide a more suitable victory feast. You, all of you, are the best. You deserve a five-night feast for what you did last night.’
Macsen moved wearily back towards the fire, then turned to fix Ursula with his piercing stare.
‘Boar Skull, I see you are not wholly without courage. You bother me. You will bear close watching. Bring us no ill, and your needs will be met. Look to your brother. The life of a bear sark tends to be brutal and brief.’ He reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder in a surprising gesture of comradeship. ‘Come, eat at the fire. You have a long way to travel.’
She seemed to feel the weight of his hand for a long time after he had removed it.
