by N. M. Browne
There were no further challenges to Hane. Although Gwyn’s humiliation was not Hane’s fault, or indeed Dan’s in any real sense, Hane was somehow connected with it. The warriors learned what he had to teach them and gradually came to recognise that there were some benefits to the new ways.
*
Time passed. The summer harvest festival of Lughnasa came and went. Macsen did not appear but then neither did the legion. That at least was a good thing. There had been word. Kai and Finn seemed to know what was going on. There were rumours of a great fire at the army barracks at Deva which had destroyed half the town. Hundreds of slaves suspected of being involved had been slaughtered. It was rumoured that King Donicca, Macsen’s uncle, was injured in the blaze and that Rhonwen too had been hurt. Ursula did not wish to listen to rumours. She did not want her suspicions confirmed. She did not want to have powers of precognition. She had no energy for more than the daily grind of survival. It was a constant battle against exhaustion and her own physical awkwardness.
They had a day off training for the festival and the remaining servants did what they could to produce a feast.
All the men from the outlying region came along – the farmers who paid for their protection with grain and meat and who would move inside the fortress walls when the legion came. Ursula had not realised at the time but the women and children from the whole region had gone to King Cadal. Without their women the men got very drunk and danced and sang. As the night became more drunken, the songs became more maudlin and Ursula got more homesick. Otherwise there was little change in the routine of train, eat, sleep, train. Kai made sure they had adequate clothes for all occasions. They got to use the baths regularly and no one commented when Ursula chose to bathe alone. At least, although they commented a great deal, it was never in Dan or Ursula’s hearing.
Ursula dreamed of the Veil very often. She dreamed she managed to raise it and she and Dan stepped through it, but they never stepped back into their own world and time, only ever into places where endless wars raged. She woke sobbing from these dreams every few nights, but if the other men heard her, again they said nothing. She thought of little but home and rest and, of course, magic. Every day she felt the magic in her growing stronger. She felt its power running through her into her sword arm. It was a good thing she was using so much energy or she feared she would explode with the pressure of it building up inside her. She felt a kind of excitement in every nerve ending. It was like some repressed internal electric storm. It heightened her perceptions: sounds were sharper. Her vision was more precise. Each thread of wool on her cloak seemed to her clear and distinct. Other people’s emotions clouded the air with a colour of their own. She learned to ignore it because it frightened her. She was truly beginning to fear her own brand of madness; the delusion that she had power. A part of her did not, could not come to terms with the magic that pulsed through her. She threw herself into the training until even the men noticed her fierce passion to succeed. And she was getting stronger. She felt herself becoming steel-sinewed and iron-handed. Her rather flabby body was becoming a well-oiled working machine. She delighted in it. If this was what fitness felt like she rather regretted never having tried it before. Her speed and coordination improved too. She was a coiled spring of energy just about containing the forces pumping around inside her. Dan was proud of her, she knew. He glowed with it when he looked at her. She was getting very good at fighting. Strangely she had quite a good temperament for it. Unlike Dan who became his sword when he fought, Ursula was cool and calculating. She watched and weighed what the others did and she copied them. She lacked Dan’s instincts but she could learn. She learned well.
It must have been late October when Kai approached her in the courtyard. He and the other warriors of Alavna had left her and Dan much to themselves. Ursula knew that Kai did not want to make things more difficult for her than they already were. The Combrogi were highly attuned to subtle gradations of status. Kai had high status. Ursula, who was not even a warrior and an outlander, had low status, very low status. If Kai had shown particular interest in Boar Skull, the others would have taken out their resentment on her. It came as something of a surprise to Ursula to find that she thought of Kai as a friend. She was glad to see him. He spoke to her casually. Ursula was careful to show him more respect than she ever had on the road.
‘I have had word from Prince Macsen and the Lady Rhonwen. They will be here by the festival of Samhain, as the first leaves begin to fall. There are some things you need to know. Macsen’s uncle, King Donicca, has died. He was taken by the Ravens two years ago and Macsen has been running his lands. Macsen’s father, Huw’s father and King Donicca were brothers. It is the custom here that a new leader will be chosen by the King’s mother, Queen Usca, from all her grandchildren. Huw is a contender.’ Kai paused to gauge her reaction. Ursula tried hard not to show one. ‘I have noticed that Huw is not a chosen drinking companion of yours,’ Kai continued, diplomatically. Kai obviously knew more than she would have liked about Huw’s earlier persecution of her. Ursula found herself blushing. She did not want Kai to see her as a victim. ‘Look, Boar Skull, whatever Usca decides there is going to be trouble. She will be coming from Ireland as soon as is seemly. Huw may well try to impress her by starting something. I do not believe he would dare to do so with me, or any of Macsen’s closest men. I have little regard for the man but he is not completely without sense. He won’t risk fighting The Bear Sark. But he might call you out, Boar Skull. That’s what I came to tell you. Watch your back. If he challenges you do not kill him. We cannot risk a rift within the tribes right now.’
‘But I …’ Ursula began.
‘I have watched you, Boar Skull. Some change has happened. Rhonwen has chosen better than she knew in you. You have the heart and liver of a warrior. Trust me. I have druid blood and see further than you might think. You could take Huw and most of “Macsen’s men”. We were not sent the best, remember, just those troublemakers the tribes wanted rid of. We will have to hope they send us more and better warriors before the second legion turns its full attention on us. Keep that Boar’s Skull of yours cool and use whatever you have to not kill him, if it gets to that.’
Kai looked at her in such a deliberate way that she wondered if he knew about the magic. Once more she speculated about what had happened in the rite of the Cup of Belonging. She had trusted Kai since then; there was a connection between them. In spite of his barbarity, she trusted him still. He was worried. That emanated from him clearly enough. She would heed his warning. She couldn’t help feeling proud that he thought her a warrior. That would be something to take back home with her, if she ever got back home.
She told Dan what he had said.
‘I think he’s right. You’re getting really good. You’re very strong. Is it magic?’ He glanced meaningfully at the distorted hilt of Bright Killer. He had not tried to have it repaired as it now fitted his grip as if made for his hand, though it was a little more difficult to use with his left hand.
‘I don’t know. I should be strong. Hell, I’m big enough. I perhaps didn’t want to be strong at home because, well, girls aren’t … Oh I don’t know, Dan. I never saw that there might be any advantage to being huge … I just wanted to be someone else, I think.’
Dan didn’t say anything for a while. He was thoughtful.
‘Ursula, at school you know, it wasn’t that you were tall that was the problem. It was the way you looked at everyone like you weren’t interested in them. People were afraid of you. I think they thought you were stuck up. I didn’t, I mean, I always thought it was tough to be so different and big and that you had to be like that not to be bullied. It’s good to be tall and …’
He gave up, afraid of Ursula’s response. Ursula was still not the easiest person to talk to about such things. But this time all Ursula could see was Dan’s earnestness and his desire to make her feel better. He was always honest and well-meaning. She felt the prickling of tears. She really did not want to cry.
‘Thanks, Dan,’ she said quietly. It took a lot of self-control for her to say that. She hated criticism of any kind. It made her want to turn in on herself and reject the critic along with the criticism. She knew Dan was not trying to hurt her. No one had ever taken such risks to protect her. He cared about her. That was important. It made the criticism bearable. Had there been other times when people had tried to offer friendship with advice and she’d rebuffed them? She thought of her father. He was always giving her advice. It was a pity he hadn’t stuck around long enough to help her accept it. She felt familiar anger return. She didn’t need him or his love. She could survive without it. She pushed such unwelcome thoughts away.
‘We’d better get back. Training will start again in a minute.’ Ursula hesitated. She wanted to give something back to Dan for his embarrassed kindness. She was not good at being nice. ‘Dan, you know before, when you wanted to promise to take care of me and I didn’t want you to. It was because here, oaths bind, with a kind of magic that ties up destinies. We are bound to Kai and the others because of Alavna. We are bound to this place by that promise. I don’t know how I know, but it’s like when I knew you were still bear sark. I know that’s how it is and I want to promise you something. I’ll fight for you too, Dan. You have been a good friend to me. I don’t know how, but I will try to find a way home.’
Dan smiled. It was a very shy, pleased smile. Checking that no one could see them he kissed her lightly on the cheek. She stepped back in surprise at the same moment that he stepped back in horror.
‘Ursula, you’ve grown stubble!’
Ursula touched her cheek. It was true. She looked at her own forearm. There were no mirrors in the barracks. She had been joyfully unaware of her appearance for months. Now that she came to think about it no fifteen-year-old girl should ever have a forearm like that.
‘Dan! What’s happening to me?’
Dan looked very uncomfortable. She was not sure he’d looked at her much recently either.
‘I don’t know. We’ve both got bigger with all this training and the food. I’ve never eaten so much meat ever.’ It was true Dan had grown. He was nearer her height now. Bright Killer, hanging in its scabbard, now no longer threatened to scrape the floor. His slightly skinny, runner’s frame had filled out with all the heavy labour of combat training.
Even so she could see by the look in his eyes that he was shocked now that he really looked at her.
‘I look like a man, don’t I?’
‘Ursula, you’re trying to look like a man.’
‘I’m not trying that hard right now. Well?’
‘Well, yes, if I didn’t know you, and I didn’t know you’d bound yourself … um, I’d have thought you were a boy, well, yes a man, a strong, fit man.’
Ursula had almost stopped listening. When had she stopped binding her breasts?
Chapter Sixteen
The news of King Donicca’s death was widely known by the end of the day. The warriors talked of him with affection. Huw and some of the others disagreed and thought his decision to stay as a slave in the Raven domain unmanly and perverse. They declared rather ostentatiously that they would rather slit their own throat than wipe the backsides of the Raven enemy. Prys spoke out in his defence and Ursula trusted his opinion more than Huw’s. It also struck Ursula as rather disloyal of Huw to be so rude about his father’s brother.
Prys was blunt. ‘Huw, you are not worth that man’s toe-nail clippings. He knew he could damage the enemy more if he were alive and in the enemy’s own town than if he were dead on some lonely hillside. How do you think Macsen has successfully kept the legion away from us all this time? The old king had a few tricks up his sleeve and you can bet he taught Macsen more than a few of them.’
Huw did not attempt to attack Prys for his insult. Ursula found it hard to blame him for that. Prys looked like a bear and fought like one. The others watched carefully and drew their own conclusions. Prys had to be pretty sure that Huw would not be chosen King to speak of him so casually. Either that or he didn’t care. Ursula suspected that he didn’t care. Prys was Macsen’s man. Speculation about the new King was rife but there were few bets placed on Huw being made King.
Preparations began at once for another feast. Representatives of all the surrounding tribes involved in Macsen’s tentative tribal alliance would come to hear the judgement of Queen Usca, Macsen’s venerable grandmother. She had left for Ireland with the other women. King Cadal intended to bring her back to Craigwen on Macsen’s return. That way Cadal could discuss tactics with Macsen and collect his promised bride, Rhonwen. The men claimed that it was possible that a crowning and a marriage might all take place at once. They said it matter of factly and Ursula divined that it was because no one was sure that there would be enough of the Combrogi left come next spring to make such ceremonies possible. The end of their world felt very close to these men. The possibility of failure haunted them. Ursula felt it. It was not exactly fear; it went deeper than that. All of them would fight to their last drop of blood to keep their world alive, to keep the life of the Combrogi. All of them knew that it might not be enough.
Ursula found herself wondering what would happen if Huw were to be chosen as King. She was also vaguely disturbed by the thought of Rhonwen’s face in her dreams. She had gathered from the talk of the men that Macsen had indeed set fire to much of Deva to force the legion to remain there through the winter. They had been obliged to rebuild the destroyed barracks. Macsen had also made sure that there was enough concern about a possible slaves’ revolt for the local aristocracy to demand that the legion remain to protect them. The legion was busy trying to stamp out any symptom of an insurrection among the Combrogi slave population. The men were bitter about the Combrogi slaves. Huw was not alone in believing that it was better to be dead than to serve the Raven enemy. It seemed that Macsen and Rhonwen had succeeded in delaying the march of the legion on Craigwen, but if Ursula’s dream was true Rhonwen, at least, had paid a price. Ursula remembered the look of terror in those green eyes as the flames engulfed her. Ursula could not forget Rhonwen’s terrible recognition that the magic had gone wild and out of control. Ursula could not forget her scarred face. If the dream were true would Cadal still marry Rhonwen? Her beauty had been ravaged by the flames. What would happen to the alliance, to all those women and children if Cadal did not marry her? She would have liked to speak of it with Dan but she was avoiding him as much as possible. Every time she looked at him she saw the discomfort in his eyes.
She saw herself as he now saw her. It had been so good not to know what she looked like. It had been such a relief to be free of the tyranny of her own image. She did not want to think about what she was becoming. She had checked herself over carefully in the bathhouse. She had become very muscular it was true. She had lost weight and that had made her breasts smaller. She was still a woman, though, just a very strong one. Her legs and arms, which were all she could easily see without a mirror, looked more like Kai’s than her own. She shed a few tears in the privacy of the bathhouse. She had wanted to lose weight for years. Now she had, she looked even less attractive than before. It should not have mattered. She was after all trying to look like a man. Ridiculously it did matter. It made her more of a physical freak than ever.
Craigwen was not a place for self-pity. On hearing the news of Macsen’s return Hane redoubled his efforts to school them in Roman fighting methods. Ursula had no free time to think.
King Cadal arrived with Queen Usca, the first truly old person Ursula had seen. She did not look stupid enough to choose Huw or one of the other cousins over Macsen but then how could anyone tell. Her face was wizened and what had been a tall frame was bent by arthritis, but her eyes were shrewd and almost the same green as Rhonwen’s. Ursula sensed power in them and she kept her distance. Over the next few days there was a steady stream of arrivals. The most respected warriors of the other tribes had come for a council of war with the new leader, whoever he should be. They
were as different from ‘Macsen’s men’ as it was possible to be. Ursula found herself sympathising with Hane. If he’d had men like this to train instead of the likes of Huw what a fine force he could have made.
The visiting Combrogi looked magnificent. Gold torques decorated every throat, every arm and every sword. Even their horses’ bridles were richly decorated with gold. Their clothing was of the finest cloth. Their armour was of polished silver and elaborately embossed leather. Some had winged helmets, others wore Viking-like horns, and almost all had the long drooping moustaches favoured by Macsen’s guard. The barracks was full to overcrowding with guests and in spite of the imminence of winter and the near certainty of siege, Finn slaughtered as many cattle and sheep as were needed. Cooks baked as many oatcakes as would be needed by an army and barrels of ale and mead and costly imported wine were opened for the warriors. The Combrogi loved excess. This was to be a wake for the dead King, the investiture of the new King, a council of war and the festival of Samhain. It was the day on which the Combrogi believed the dead walked again on the earth.
For the first time Ursula and Dan also heard the talents of a true bard. At the festival of Lughnasa there had been singing but of an amateur kind. King Cadal’s Irish bard was treated with as much honour as the Queen. When he first strummed his travelling harp Ursula knew why. It was like the magic in a way. Under his clever fingers and under the influence of his compelling voice things changed. Not only did he paint elaborate pictures in words and music he actually mixed the colours of the auras in the room changing the emotions, weaving patterns with the threads of feelings in his audience. Perhaps only he and Kai and Ursula saw what he did but everyone else felt the effects. He made sad men happy and quiet ones loud. He made Huw magnanimous and the sullen Gwyn playful. He knew what Dan was and gave him wide berth for which Ursula was grateful. He exchanged one look with Ursula and gave a start of recognition. For her he gave a virtuoso display of musical manipulation. He played his audience like he played his harp and they didn’t even know. It was disturbing really but fascinating. She saw Kai watching her curiously. She kept her face impassive. She was sure that Kai suspected her of magic.
