Geraint (Hengist-People of the Horse Book 5)

by Jacky Gray

  ‘Aye, and the second is to expect the worst, then it doesn’t catch you unawares.’ Ryder acknowledged the other man’s wisdom. ‘Do as she says and huddle in pairs under a cloak. Your body heat will help keep you warm and dry your breeches out faster.’

  ‘But if I take off my jacket, someone might steal it.’

  ‘You think anyone wants that filthy old thing reeking of your sweat? Be real.’

  ‘Maybe he thinks someone will take a fancy to that fine body of his in his nether clothes.’

  The laughter greeting this remark was universal and forged a bond of brotherhood between them as Rattrick’s seasoned warriors shared their cloaks with the rain-soaked men. They managed to get some sleep, and dawn was breaking when the guards woke them up. Savannah had been busy, and every man woke to the smell of a spicy brew and a thick cut of bacon wrapped in bread, toasted by the fire.

  One of her loudest detractors gave her a huge bear hug, followed by a smacking kiss on the lips. ‘I owe you an apology, dear lady. If I didn’t think Rattrick would batter me black and blue, I’d ask you to jump the Beltane fire with me.’

  ‘Never mind Rattrick, what about your wife?’

  ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, she’s fed up with my moaning.’

  ‘She’d cut your tackle off first, though. Got a right temper on her, your Simza.’

  ‘Yeah, Fonso. What’s it worth not to say anything to her?’

  ‘How about your nose?’

  ‘You think that’ll stop ’im pokin’ it on other folk’s business? He’d find a way even with no nose.’

  The banter continued as the men tested and teased their new companions. Geraint was the only boy allowed on the quest, but he was vital since no-one else had the contact with the Townies at Aveburgh. As they travelled, several battle plans were discussed among the best tacticians in each tribe. When they stopped for lunch at an inn, the three most senior from each tribe formed a war council, debating the different scenarios. Geraint was called on to present his knowledge of the Aveburgh warriors and he summarised his two meetings with them, answering the barrage of questions in some detail. Just before they left, Darrack returned from his scouting mission. He had friends in Devises and they, too, had heard about the troubles. The general feeling said it was nearly two day’s travel away, so they thought they would be safe from the impact.

  The last few hours’ journey were completely different, every man adopted an air of vigilant anticipation, and the tension put paid to most of the chat. The roads were clear as most people were out in the fields harvesting crops. Every man, woman and child helped to cut down and process the precious grains and fruit. To lessen the suspicions a large number of non-military travellers on horseback would attract, they split into three groups. Rattrick took the advance party, a small group heading on the most direct route. Despite the resistance, he insisted Savannah and Geraint should go with him to appear more like a family outing. He included one man from each of the other tribes at Hereward’s insistence, and his men divided between the other two groups led by Hereward and Pitivo’s deputy, Ryder. They would use the road which followed the river eastward for a while, before turning north to meet them by Silburgh hill.

  Savannah was working with Geraint to visualise an agreeable outcome with Siany’s two uncles, when she abruptly left his side, speeding her horse to catch up with Rattrick. He could tell from his father’s reaction he was not happy about her request and, as he got closer, he heard snatches of the conversation.

  ‘… it won’t work; his powers may not be …’

  ‘… don’t understand the importance …’

  ‘… too young for that sort of responsibility …’

  ‘… not much older when …

  ‘… far more important things to worry about …’

  Not wanting to hear any more, he dropped his horse back. Savannah’s concerns about his part in this were met by his father’s doubts of his ability. A powerful memory washed over him, and he stood once more in front of the tribunal with his father acting as though he were less than an insect under his shoe. The pain which vibrated through his body held his muscles in such a tight grip he couldn’t breathe for several moments. Then the blackness came.

  Next thing he knew, Savannah’s voice told him to feel the heat of the green light as it warmed his body, unlocking his muscles so he could breathe it in. He wasn’t sure what happened, but when he opened his eyes, he quickly figured he was sitting on his father’s horse with the other men looking at him in concern. His father held him tightly as Savannah massaged his right hand.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘You had some kind of convulsion. You stopped breathing.’

  ‘Maybe he needs to rest.’ Hereward’s man, Nikas looked doubtful. ‘We should stop for a while.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t need rest. The best thing would be to move on. I will watch him.’ Savannah was firm and Rattrick supported her, lifting his son back onto his horse with little effort. Bringing her horse close, she spoke quietly so no-one else heard her anger. ‘What is it going to take until you trust your father? He had no choice at the tribunal and if you stopped feeling sorry for yourself long enough to try and understand him, you would see that.’

  ‘He would not even look at me.’

  ‘Because if he had, he would not have been able to do what he needed to: Show no weakness in front of the other leaders. He’s trying to bring reforms to the whole clan, but he needs to do it in such a way they’ll accept.’

  ‘But no-one bothers with the code these days.’

  ‘Just because it is not talked about, doesn’t mean it is not there. People are starting to relax a little …’

  ‘But he could have explained …’

  ‘Nothing. If he showed favour to his son, he would lose their respect and they would stir up unrest with everyone.’

  ‘I didn’t know Esbats were against the code.’

  ‘The original code was vague and many people – men – choose to interpret it in a particular way to suit their own insecurities. The full moon is more potent for women so some men are threatened by it.’

  ‘But my father isn’t?’

  ‘No. We need to stop fretting about this now. You have an important job to do and …’

  ‘He thinks I can’t do it. That my powers aren’t strong enough and I’m too young for the responsibility.’

  ‘What?’ Her eyes defocused for a few minutes as though she was listening to someone. ‘I understand. You overheard us talking about Reagan and thought we meant you. Did no-one ever tell you someone who eavesdrops will never hear good about themselves?’

  ‘You were talking about Reagan? The White Horse boy?’

  She smiled. ‘He’s a man now, but yes, he will always be the White Horse boy.’

  ‘What has he got to do with it?’

  ‘I’m not sure. As we tuned in to Aveburgh, I got a strong image of him and your father. I remembered they met a couple of times.’

  ‘My father knows Reagan?’

  ‘Not exactly knows him, but there is a connection which may prove useful.’

  ‘You mean if I can’t persuade Finn and Fletch.’

  ‘Not at all. From what you’ve said they have a very good impression of you already.’

  ‘How can you say that? You can’t know what they think.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I promise it will all be good; now it’s your task to make it happen.’

  ‘Not much of a task for a junior then.’

  ‘I hope that’s not self pity. I’ve told you, you’re destined for bigger things. At seventeen you’ll have done more than most men do in their entire lives. Now do as you’re told and concentrate.’ Her eyes twinkled, even as she tried to make her voice stern.

  He did as she bade, freeing his mind to focus on what would happen when they reached their destination.

  Part II – Conflict

  36 War Council

  Riding through the village, it seemed as though life
in Aveburgh carried on as normal. People were out in the fields; the blacksmith’s hammer rang out the rhythm of his labours, mingling with the sounds of a training session at the lehren. Geraint looked round at the now familiar houses, remembering the times he used to sneak in at night to watch the rituals at the stones when he was younger.

  The five of them rode up to the council house and the three men stayed outside with the horses. Savannah and Geraint walked in and spoke to a friendly woman who took them to Malduc’s office, where the council leader emerged with a warm smile.

  ‘Come in, come in; we’ve been expecting you. Where are the others?’

  ‘My father and two men remain outside; the rest are waiting in the woods west of Silburgh.’

  ‘You weren’t sure of your reception. You’re all very welcome here. Archer, will you …’

  The legendary warrior was already on his way out to bring in the others as Malduc himself guided the Renegate envoys to the washrooms to freshen up after the long journey. Their return involved a lot of handshaking and names to remember, and then they sat on one half of the huge round table. A cup of steaming tea was set in front of them with a plate of biscuits, cakes and fresh fruit.

  Malduc summarised what had happened since he’d received Geraint’s “detailed and informative” descriptions four moons earlier. Several people on the council had meditated on the potential threat, and none of them had any reactions except Ganieda and Malduc, who both got such a weak indication of trouble they ignored it at first. He mentioned the census resulting from the bad dreams after Lughnasadh and the appearance of strangers in the village.

  Fletch picked up the story then, telling how Siany had recognised the names and some of the descriptions. ‘The upshot is we got the famous White Horse painter, Thearl, to sketch some faces based on the descriptions with the help of the householders to make them a better likeness.’

  Malduc gave the drawings to Rattrick who identified two of the men and Geraint thought he recognised another, but wasn’t sure. The third man fitted the description of the one with a high voice, which made him a definite, too.

  Finn gave his report on the state of play in Oxford. It seemed the city was virtually under siege with bands patrolling all the main routes to the north, east and south. They’d taken up residence in Hereward’s normal spot in the forest to the west of the city where they were running the operation. As he mentioned this, Archer and Hereward’s man, Nikas exchanged wry grins, both remembering the legendary incident which became a song. Nikas spoke up. ‘It’s a good vantage point. You control the river there and the city will come to a standstill. What has happened to the militia? They normally have a strong presence there for that very reason.’

  ‘A week ago saw a grand disturbance on the Banburgh road. Four hay wagons soaked in ale were set alight fifty paces from the forest.’

  ‘And of course it’s been so dry for weeks that if it had spread, the whole city would have torched.’

  ‘Every marshal in the city and as many volunteers as they could muster were shipped up there to put it out. It took a dozen fire wagons pumping water from the Cherwell and Isis all night to put ...’

  ‘While the wagons moved into position under cover of darkness.’ Nikas interrupted with a grim tone.

  ‘Right.’ Finn could tell the man was used to chipping in with his comments and did not let it deter him. ‘When the marshals returned the next morning, they could do nothing. But they did not see it as much of a problem; they’ve lived with Renegates on that patch for many years with no real concerns.’

  ‘No, we get on with most of them.’ Nikas shrugged. ‘They’re good men and don’t disturb us if we don’t give them cause to.’

  ‘Then a couple of days later the stories started from merchants being attacked as they came into the city for the markets. The marshals didn’t take it seriously and sent small parties out to investigate, only three men to each gate.’ He paused and swallowed before continuing. ‘Every man was injured and they lost two horses.’

  After a few moments of stunned silence, Rattrick recovered first. ‘How badly?’

  Finn hesitated. ‘Two dead, three wounded and Beorn is fighting for his life. An arrow in the stomach which is infected.’

  He turned away, and Archer stood and clapped him on the back before growling, ‘So now it’s personal. Beorn is a good friend.’

  It was some time before Pitivo’s man, Johan, spoke, breaking the tension. ‘Rattrick said there were two tribes. If they are at all four directions, the numbers will be reduced. We should be able to match them between us and the Oxford militia.’

  Archer stopped prowling and retook his seat as Finn resumed his report. ‘As you can imagine, it’s difficult to get accurate information, but it seems another tribe came down from the north to join in, led by a fearsome creature who wears a mask covering half of his face.’

  Malduc straightened in his chair, and a worried look passed between him and Ganieda. ‘Where did you get this information?’

  A brief smile lightened the warrior’s face as he answered Geraint’s question. ‘Someone you know well – only the best keeper of secrets in the area.’

  ‘The Open Arms. Of course. His brother keeps a toll …’

  ‘Kept. He moved out when they moved in, but he has joined the volunteer watch who guard the city streets.’

  ‘So what do we know about them? Apart from the fact they are ruthless killers.’ Archer’s tone was bitter.

  ‘Guaril, or Hengest as he likes to be known, has around twenty men south of the city; they are covering the east and south. His brother Gunari, also known as Horsa, has fifteen men in Hereward’s patch, catching all of the west. The masked man who styles himself Witta is at the north, but we have no idea the strength of his force.’

  Archer’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because they have the advantage of the forest and no one dares get close enough to spy. None of the merchants saw more than half a dozen men, but they all have wild hair and painted faces, so it is difficult to tell them apart.’

  ‘Witta was the son of Hengist and Horsa. Is he a lot younger?’

  Finn frowned at Geraint’s question, reviewing his information. ‘You could be onto something. Beorn noted he was not as powerfully built as the rest, but much more vicious.’

  ‘Why do you ask?’ Malduc’s question was unexpected.

  ‘I-I don’t know. Just … a feeling.’

  Savannah spoke for the first time. ‘Geraint seems to be clairvoyant. The gift is not fully developed yet, but it seems to improve when he’s with his girlfriend Siany.’

  ‘Bethia’s cousin?’ Archer knew how useful her information had been so far. ‘Shall I send someone to fetch her?’

  Geraint looked up in alarm. ‘She shouldn’t be travelling, it’s much too dangerous.’

  ‘But she’s here in the village, staying with us. She was over here when the trouble started, and her father sent word she should stay until it’s over.’

  Rushing out of the door, Geraint missed most of the speech as he barely made it to the bathroom in time. The shock of Fletch’s revelation after the long journey was too much for his stressed body to cope with, and it reacted by ejecting the contents of his stomach. Several concerned adults ran out after him, but Rattrick got there first, handing him a towel to clean himself up with, and Savannah brought him a hot mint drink to settle his stomach.

  As the boy recovered, Archer summarised the main points from his report, then attempted to answer the barrage of questions as people considered the possible strategies which could be used to deal with the invaders. The Renegates, all seasoned fighters in this type of conflict, had the best ideas about what would be effective and what would not work. They all agreed the first stage of the campaign had to be gathering more intelligence. What they had, although reasonably reliable, was sketchy and already out of date.

  At that point, the door opened and Siany flew in, giving Geraint barely enough time to scramble up fr
om his chair before she leapt at him, hugging, laughing and crying all at once. The indulgent smiles did not last long as Malduc announced a five minute break before the meditation, and everyone got up to stretch and prepare themselves.

  ‘I was so worried about you.’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here.’

  They both spoke at once, then broke off and smiled. A chaste kiss, then they hugged again, and briefly exchanged stories. He barely made it to the part about the tribunal before Malduc called for everyone to take their seats.

  Finn and Fletch did not sit; they’d already said their piece to the council and begged their leave to return to the training session.

  ‘Yes go, by all means. If we have any change in the instructions based on this meeting, I’m sure Archer will let you know. Thank you for your efforts, gentlemen.’ Malduc inclined his head.

  He made a slight change in the seating, asking Savannah to sit opposite Ganieda to form a square with himself and Kalen. He then spaced Archer and the three Renegates in a similar square, putting Reagan and Sawyer in a third square with the two juniors so balancing the circle between them all. Malduc raised an eyebrow at the other three in his group and they nodded their comprehension.

  Geraint caught his instruction to keep the energy flowing freely at a constant rate but no-one else apart from those three seemed to have heard and he realised it was a mind link. Then Reagan’s voice sounded in his head. ‘Follow the spoken instructions and try to ignore the mental messages; you’ll know if they are meant for you.’ His eyes shot across the table to where Reagan sat next to Rattrick, just as in Savannah’s image. The older boy grinned at Geraint, who was astonished by the number of people with this gift.

  Malduc cleared his throat, instructing everyone to hold hands and close their eyes, and the meditation began. At first, Geraint noticed nothing but Nikas’ firm grip on his left hand and Ganieda’s cool fingers in his right. He could hear every tiny movement in the room; someone’s breathing was heavier than the rest. The sounds from outside the room began to take on significance as a couple of children ran past the open window shouting and squealing.