by A. J. Lake
As they left the stockade, a man on horseback was spurring his sweating horse up the coastal road towards the settlement.
Aagard stopped in the gateway. ‘Wait here a moment,’ he told Edmund and Elspeth, and walked back through the gate. Edmund heard him calling to someone, and a few moments later he returned with Gilbert puffing after him.
‘Hey, Wulf!’ Gilbert called to the rider. ‘What’s spooked you?’ He broke off, his eyes widening in alarm. Wulf’s face was deathly pale, and a long cut ran down one cheek.
‘Medwel!’ the man gasped as he yanked his horse to a halt.
Edmund went cold. Aagard and Gilbert ran to help Wulf dismount, but even when Elspeth tugged at his arm, his legs would not move.
‘I must go back! We must all go!’ the man protested. ‘There are armed men attacking with torches. Medwel is burning!’
Edmund cried out. But no one seemed to hear as Gilbert bellowed for his men-at-arms. Aagard urgently questioned the man about what he had seen. The words came to Edmund dimly: ‘… some lord’s men, armed with swords, not common raiders. They were demanding something from the elders, I never heard what. When they started burning the houses, I came to fetch help.’
Edmund did not want to hear. The sight of the blazing thatch, the screaming people, came so vividly to his mind that he fell to his knees, throwing his arms over his head.
‘Edmund?’
Aagard was standing over him while Gilbert’s men rushed around gathering spears, saddling horses. Edmund knew it would take them at least an hour’s riding to reach Medwel. He knew that Gilbert, as thane, was bound to do what he could. But he could not watch the rescue party gather, nor look at Aagard’s face. He felt sick.
‘Edmund,’ the old man said again. ‘What ails you, boy?’
‘I saw it,’ Edmund murmured. And when Aagard seemed slow to understand, he cried angrily, ‘I saw them attacking Medwel! Armed men, just as Wulf said, all dressed alike. They had silver bosses on their shields.’ He stopped. He could not talk about the way they had mown down the people in their path, as coolly as a boy slashing wheat stalks. Nor about the way he had slashed too, revelling in the slice of steel through air. And bone.
Both Aagard and Elspeth were staring at him now.
‘But how could you know?’ Elspeth began.
Aagard hushed her with a gesture. His face was like stone, his eyes fixed on Edmund’s as he waited for him to continue.
‘Before we left the cave I had a dream,’ Edmund told them haltingly. ‘When we passed through Medwel yesterday I knew it was the same place, but it was so quiet, so peaceful. I said nothing about what I had seen. I thought no one would believe me.’
‘I would have believed you, Edmund,’ Aagard said quietly. ‘You spoke of men with a silver sphere on black shields?’ When Edmund nodded, the old man frowned. ‘I have known only one man who wore a shield mark like that. Orgrim.’
Edmund gazed at him, bewildered. ‘But why would he send men to burn Medwel?’
Instead of answering, Aagard froze for a moment. Then he flung up his arms to hide his face. ‘He is trying to use my eyes!’ he cried. ‘Close your eyes, both of you!’
Edmund did as he was told. The panic in the old man’s voice had chilled him to the bone.
‘Did I not say he was Ripente?’ Aagard muttered. ‘I felt him looking through my eyes – trying to see who was with me, who had survived the shipwreck.’
Edmund stared into darkness, his mind racing. Was Orgrim stealing into his mind that very second? How could Aagard tell?
But then he felt it. Something squeezed inside his head, as if the edge of his mind had been pushed aside. Almost at once the pressure was gone, but he was still aware of something: an absence like a hole in his thoughts. Carefully, as if probing a loose tooth, he felt for it again.
Then it hit him: a rush of consciousness that was not his own, chill and scouring as a snow-wind. There was malice too, the will to seize, make use of and then discard. It swelled to fill his whole head. Edmund fought back, but it was like pushing against a mist. Steadily his thoughts grew fainter and fainter, until they were little more than wisps of cloud blown in a windy sky.
With a distant sense of horror, Edmund felt himself dissolve.
Chapter Seven
Edmund felt Aagard’s steadying hand on his shoulder.
‘You can sense him, then.’ The old man’s voice seemed far away. ‘He cannot control you, nor hear you, Edmund. Try to close your mind to him!’
Edmund tried again to push back the invading presence. How could he shut it out? Perhaps if he could find the source …
Yes. There was an opening in the smooth, curved wall of his mind, and something not quite liquid was pouring through the gap like smoke. Edmund gathered his last ounce of purpose and tried to stop the gap.
Slowly, the other mind withdrew. Only the sense of malice remained – an evil gloating that said that although it was leaving now, it might soon return. And then it too faded, and the rip in Edmund’s mind closed up.
Edmund slumped against the fence, Aagard’s hand still on his shoulder. Elspeth looked from one to the other.
‘What happened?’ she demanded.
‘Orgrim tried to use Edmund’s eyes,’ Aagard said. His face seemed more lined than ever. ‘He reached out to me first. He has done so enough times that I know the touch of his mind. When I closed my eyes, he tried to use Edmund, probably because he looked young enough to overpower.’
‘But why?’ Elspeth pleaded, shuddering at the thought of someone else inside her head, looking out through her eyes. ‘Why does he want to look through our eyes?’
Aagard looked solemn. ‘Because he is hunting the crystal sword.’
Elspeth frowned. ‘But I felt nothing,’ she said. Involuntarily she glanced down at her hand. If Orgrim wanted to find the sword, why not try the person who held it now?
‘It’s possible that the sword protects you,’ said the old man, looking at her thoughtfully. ‘On the other hand, most of those touched by the Ripente know nothing about it. I have studied hard, so I may feel the signs, but I could never do what Edmund has just done, and fight him off when he had taken hold of my mind.’ He turned to Edmund. ‘I had heard that one Ripente can drive out another.’
‘I don’t know,’ Edmund said. ‘It … he … left me alone. I saw the gap in my mind, but I don’t think I drove him out.’ He looked drained, as if talking was an effort.
‘You fought him,’ Aagard said with quiet certainty. ‘You recognised his presence at once, and you were able to combat him. In time, you will learn to defeat him altogether.’
‘You mean he really will come back?’ Edmund groaned. ‘Why? Even if I have the same skill, I’m nothing to him!’
‘He has seen you with me,’ Aagard explained. ‘And he will wonder what I have told you about the chest. Perhaps I have drawn attention to you by accompanying you this far. But that cannot be helped now. Orgrim’s power is growing. The book of spells has taught him to conjure dragons, and he brought the storm that sank your ship. He must have known the crystal sword was aboard, and he wanted to prevent it from reaching Gaul.’
Elspeth shook her head in disbelief. She wanted to shout: You mean Orgrim will be hunting me now? Then take the sword back! I did not choose any of this! She looked down in dismay at her hand and felt the gauntlet’s grip, the hilt’s cold pulse. Again she clenched her fist, crushing them to bits.
‘Master Aagard.’
Gilbert was running up to them, his broad face anxious. ‘We’re riding now for Medwel,’ he said, gesturing to the armed and mounted men behind him. ‘Will you come with us? I fear your skill at healing will be much needed.’
Elspeth saw Aagard’s face darken. ‘I will come and do what I can,’ he said to Gilbert. Then he turned to Elspeth and Edmund. ‘You must go on, both of you. If Orgrim’s men are this close, you are in even greater danger than I first thought.’ His eyes narrowed as he looked at Elspeth. ‘Are you really s
et on returning to your village? It might be safer for you to head south into Dunmonia, hide there until the heat of the chase has cooled.’
‘Hide?’ Elspeth echoed in dismay. ‘Never! I did not choose the sword. This sorcerer can have no quarrel with me! I’m going back to Dubris.’ Aagard had forbidden her the sea. He could not banish her from her father’s house as well!
The old man sighed. ‘Then the two of you must travel east together. To reach Sussex and Kent you will have to go through Wessex, towards the very danger that you must avoid. Orgrim holds sway over the entire kingdom, and the road runs right through Venta Bulgarum, his stronghold. You must skirt the town, and on no account enter it.’ He hesitated. ‘Perhaps I should go with you –’
‘No!’ Edmund argued, and Elspeth was surprised by the note of command in his voice. Wherever Edmund came from, he must live in a longhouse at least as big as Gilbert’s. Perhaps he even had slaves to pour his wine as well. ‘You must go back to Medwel,’ Edmund insisted. ‘They need you! It’s my fault they were unprepared for the raid, and I cannot let you abandon them again.’
‘We will have urgent need of you, Master Aagard,’ Lord Gilbert agreed. ‘Send the young ones after Cluaran, if you think they’ll go astray on their own. He’s not long gone – they’ll catch him easily.’
Edmund shook his head. ‘We’ll be fine on our own.’
Elspeth wasn’t sure she agreed. If Aagard was right about the amount of danger they were in, they would surely be safer travelling with someone who knew the roads? Her right arm and hand began throbbing again, distracting her thoughts. Leave me alone! she told the sword.
‘If I go,’ Aagard said at last, ‘you must promise me that you will find Cluaran and tell him I have charged him with your protection.’
‘Charged him?’ Edmund protested. ‘We don’t need –’
‘Swear it!’ Aagard insisted. ‘Tell him I demanded this in the name of the one who never died. He will understand. If he hears that, he will not desert you.’
Edmund looked mutinous, and Elspeth’s irritation boiled over. ‘Do you want Aagard to go to Medwel or not?’ she hissed at him. She turned to Aagard. ‘We promise,’ she said. Beside her, Edmund nodded crossly.
Aagard saluted Gilbert. ‘I will ride with you, my lord.’ He clasped Elspeth’s and Edmund’s hands once more. ‘You must go at once,’ he urged. ‘Remember your promise, and trust no one but each other – not even Cluaran, unless it is to guide you on your journey. When I have learned more of Orgrim’s plans, I can find you in Noviomagus and Dubris, or send Thrimgar to you. Go safely. And may your gods and your God speed you.’
He gave them one last look, then turned and strode to the horse that was held ready for him. Moments later Gilbert and his men were galloping away to the south, and Elspeth and Edmund were left alone in the gateway.
*
Elspeth stood with Edmund on a little ridge outside the village, looking down on the distant, north-eastern road. The morning was fine, but the spring sunlight felt weak and the breeze cool. The sky stretched vastly above them, hanging over land that looked neither familiar nor welcoming to Elspeth’s sea-trained eyes. Instinctively her left hand went to her right, which still tingled with an itch beneath the skin.
‘We had better catch up with Cluaran, then,’ she said.
Edmund shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want.’ He added bad-temperedly, ‘I don’t know why Aagard made us promise to ask for his protection. I don’t want protection from some stranger Aagard doesn’t even call a friend.’
His lofty tone grated on Elspeth, but when she looked at him she saw only distress in his eyes. She wondered if he was as nervous as she was at the journey ahead and if, like her, he felt burdened by his strange, unasked-for gift.
They scrambled down the slippery slopes of the ridge to the road. On either side lay sparse meadowland with a few stunted trees at the edge, their new buds barely broken. The road itself was little more than a track, stony and rutted, but it ran straight, and the narrow footprints that appeared here and there showed that Cluaran was still ahead.
Elspeth was glad to be on the move again. When I get back to Dubris, I’ll go straight back to sea, she decided. And if this dragon that Edmund saw is still threatening the south coast, then I’ll take a ship to Northumbria, or even up to Hibernia.
But there was still so far to go – two kingdoms to cross. They would have to go near Venta Bulgarum, if not through it, and Elspeth knew this was dangerous. Whenever Aagard mentioned the town, her arm had tingled with that strange energy.
Elspeth frowned. The enchanted sword seemed to have some purpose of its own, quite outside her own plans. But Venta was a town like any other, she told herself, and her quickest route home lay through it. She would not be put off by omens from an invisible sword.
She glanced over her shoulder. Edmund was trailing behind, staring dismally at the dusty road beneath his feet. Perhaps she should make more effort to befriend him. They had endured so much in the last two days, more death and destruction than most people saw in a lifetime. Elspeth’s world been had turned on its head – her father gone, the Spearwa gone – and in their place only outlandish talk of unnatural storms and conjured dragons, Ripente visions, and the blackest sorcery.
Elspeth sighed. Whatever else was going on in this turned-up world, to walk in silence all the way from Dunmonia to Sussex would be terribly tedious. She shortened her stride, and smiled as Edmund caught her up.
‘You said you’re from Sussex?’ she began.
‘My family live in Noviomagus,’ he said stiffly.
‘Do you have brothers or sisters?’
Elspeth was prepared to be interested, even envious. When Edmund had told Aagard his family would worry about him, she had pictured a whole clan longing for his return. She was taken aback when he glared at her.
‘Why do you want to know?’ he snapped.
‘I thought you were lucky to have a family, that’s all!’ she cried. ‘That there’s someone who cares if you live or die.’
He walked on without replying, staring straight ahead.
‘Are you going to be like this all the way?’ she demanded, running after him. ‘It’s plain to see you’re some lord’s son, with your silver brooch and your lofty airs – but does that mean I’m not even allowed to speak to you?’
Edmund stopped dead, then turned on her, his eyes bleak. ‘I’m a king’s son,’ he said.
Elspeth stared at him as he went on in strained tones. ‘The silver clasp you saw is my name-brooch. It belonged to my father, Heored, King of Sussex.’
Elspeth remembered Edmund’s aloofness on the Spearwa, his confident poise in the thane’s great house – he had drunk wine all his life, of course – and his constant air of secrecy. So that was why … She realised she’d been gaping like a fish.
‘But why did he send you away on my father’s ship?’
‘For safety,’ Edmund said harshly. ‘My father’s cousin in Mercia sent word that his lands were being threatened by the Danish invaders, and my father took all the good men of the kingdom and rode to help him, leaving my mother to rule in his place. That was months ago, and we’ve heard no word from them since. Then the Danes attacked our coast.’ He frowned. ‘My mother wanted me to go to her brother Aelfred in Gaul. I was to stay there until the danger was over. That way, she said, I could return to rule the kingdom if … if there was no one else.’ His voice was low and hard, but Elspeth caught a flicker of misery in the boy’s face.
‘And would your uncle have made you welcome?’ she asked gently, thinking of her aunt’s overcrowded household in Dubris.
‘I think so. He lived in my father’s house when I was small. I was fond of him, and he of me. He went to Gaul to make his fortune and never returned, but he sent letters asking me and my mother to visit him.’ Edmund’s face clouded with memory, then hardened again. ‘But it makes no difference now. My mother will hear of the wreck and think me dead. I have to go back. I should never h
ave left.’
‘We’d best get on with the journey, then,’ Elspeth said briskly. ‘Maybe we can reach your mother before the news does.’
Edmund had not moved. ‘Elspeth.’ His voice was suddenly urgent. ‘If we have to travel with this Cluaran, he mustn’t know who I am! The sons of lords have been kidnapped many times before now, and held for ransom. Promise me you’ll say nothing.’
He was an odd boy, Elspeth thought: so stiff and haughty one minute, then so fearful the next. But it was a small thing to ask in return for peace on the journey.
‘Agreed,’ she said. ‘Now come on, or we’ll never catch him.’
The road climbed ahead of them, the trees giving way to gorse and heather. At the top of the next rise they caught sight of a small figure heading eastwards, and they quickened their pace to catch up with him. Several times as the day wore on, they seemed to be drawing nearer to the brown-clad figure, only to lose sight of him and spot him again as far away as ever.
The shadows were beginning to lengthen when Elspeth touched Edmund’s arm and gestured to him to listen. They were in upland country of rocks and heath; there were no trees and only an occasional bird call. But as a breeze blew along the track towards them they could faintly hear a man’s voice, raised in song.
‘We’re near him!’ she said.
But even though they quickened their pace, by dusk they still had not caught up with him. When they could no longer see the track in front of them, Edmund said, ‘We’d better stop for the night.’
Elspeth nodded, her teeth chattering. They found a rocky outcrop that gave them a little shelter, and sat back-to-back on the prickly turf, hugging the blankets that Aagard had given them. It was too cold for sleep. They munched bread from their supplies and stared gloomily into the darkness.
