by Jacky Gray
A breeze whispered past his face from the right, warmer than he’d expect for the time of year. He realised it was the energy flowing round the circle, building as each person released their connection to the physical world and tuned into an intuitive state. Malduc’s voice was low and persuasive, instructing them to visualise the Renegates in Oxford, starting with Hengest’s tribe to the south, but no-one seemed to know the area well, so he tried the western group.
Geraint saw nothing but images tumbling round in his head of all the times he’d been to Oxford, to the woods by Siany’s house, to Hereward’s camp. Then he saw three of the men who’d held up Siany’s wagon, and the man calling himself Horsa. Malduc then encouraged them to move north to the woods and the picture of the four burning wagons was so strong he could almost smell the smoke. Five figures in dark clothes could be seen leaping onto horses, and as the one in front turned, several people gasped and the circle was broken. They’d recognised the man in the mask.
37 The Man in the Mask
‘Edlyn.’ Archer leapt up and his chair crashed to the floor. Ganieda took hold of his hand to try and calm him, but the powerful negative energy needed dispersing so she let him go. He exploded out of the room taking his personal thundercloud with him.
Malduc explained to those who didn’t know, that Edlyn was a Magi who’d bullied Archer when they were boys. It had all ended tragically when he threw himself into the Beltane bonfire under the influence of a powerful enchantress. Archer had leapt into the fire to save him, but the boy had been badly scarred and full of resentment. Several years later, he left the village after another incident and they’d not seen him for many years.
‘So this masked man is little more than a youth?’ Johan was quite dismissive, but Rattrick put him straight. ‘Don’t underestimate him just because he’s young. A youth with that much hatred in him can easily do as much damage as a grown man. Archer’s no greenhorn and they are the same age.’
‘And of course he would have had the same training at your famous lehren where you teach Magi how to fight and Warriors how to carve wood.’ Nikas shook his head in disbelief.
‘He would have learnt basic warrior skills but he’s not a Warrior, so he would not be as skilled as Archer.’
‘Skilled enough to shoot Beorn in the stomach.’ Archer’s bitter words rang out as he re-entered the room, the hot anger replaced by a cold fury which was even more fearsome. ‘Skilled enough to command a tribe of cut-throat Renegates.’
‘Archer. You cannot take this personally.’ Kalen resumed the tone of the mentor he’d once been. ‘If you don’t detach yourself from the situation, you will not be able to function properly. I know it’s easy for me to say …’
‘Because he didn’t torture you or threaten to kill you.’
Ganieda sucked in a sharp breath and Archer looked ashamed; he obviously never meant her to know about it.
‘Nevertheless, if we allow him to take control in Oxford, it will not be long before he returns to Aveburgh …’
‘Over my dead body.’ Archer’s hard tone chilled the air.
‘… and that may very well be the case if we do not stop him.’
Malduc became grim and business-like, gesturing at the others to clear the table as Kalen brought out a large map of the Oxford area. For the next hour, several ideas were proposed, discussed and mostly rejected. Malduc was pleased with the knowledge of the area Hereward’s people could bring. He praised the groundwork the Renegates had already done in considering so many scenarios. But it was Siany who came up with the solution which seemed most attractive.
‘Why don’t you do what they do and pretend to join their tribe?’
A moment’s pause saw each man in the room trying to think of a way to explain why it was not possible without hurting her feelings.
Savannah, however had other ideas. ‘Before you dismiss it, think a little deeper. Rattrick has already made contact with Horsa and his tribe …’
‘But he made a fool of him when he rescued Siany and her parents in Kent.’ Geraint was concerned about the danger for his father, whose eyebrows shot up at the passion in his son’s voice.
Savannah noted this mellowing between father and son with some satisfaction. ‘All the more reason this might work. They won’t know the three tribes travelled up together, and they may accept an offer from Hereward’s tribe to join forces.’
‘But they would be in danger if Hengest found out about the friendship between the tribes.’
‘Not if they had a huge quarrel over something.’
‘Like the fact their champion didn’t win.’
‘Or one of their boys was caught with a girl from another tribe.’
Glances were exchanged between the Renegate men at Geraint’s bitter suggestion as they remembered the unfinished trial. A brief pause followed, and others in the room sensed the discomfort between them. Finally, Nikas broke the silence. ‘So we do what, turn up and tell them to get off our patch?’
‘Exactly. If you show any kind of weakness, they’ll treat you like prey, just like anyone else who is not part of their clan.’
‘Savannah’s right. Horsa respected that I stood up to him and showed no fear.’ Rattrick was the only one in the room with any real experience of the outlaws.
‘This is just one possible way, and it would only have to be very short term, but it would be good to collect some detail of their strengths and weaknesses.’
‘Or even just the numbers of men and weapons.’
Siany’s plan meant any further contact between the tribes would be risky, but they discussed the possibility of using the Open Arms as a point of information exchange between the tribes once they were in place. Until then, since Archer and his two deputies were well known, they needed someone who could move from the town to the Renegate camp without suspicion.
‘It has to be me.’ Siany’s bold assertion surprised everyone in the room. ‘I know my way around the area and will be less noticeable. I could disguise myself as a boy like in Shakespeare …’
‘No.’ Five of the men in the room uttered the syllable together with the same vehemence. Kalen had been quietly assessing the personalities involved and looking for less conventional solutions and he spoke up for the first time.
‘Siany’s idea has merit. We must maintain a strict separation between the villagers and the Renegates for as long as possible for this to work. There are certain types who would visit the camp and a boy would not be seen as threat. But he would not go alone.’
‘No boy would be safe with that monster.’
‘I will accompany him in disguise. We’ll look like a couple of tinkers, complete with a sack of wares.’
The room buzzed with ideas, but Malduc held up his hand, pointing to the window where the sun was setting. ‘I’m sorry, but we need to finish now so you can get back to your camp and let them know the possibilities. If Hereward is in agreement, I suggest his tribe split off as soon as possible.’
When he’d seen them off, Malduc returned to the office where the others were still talking. ‘Thank you for your valuable opinions. Now I must ask for any final comments before I let you go.’
Reagan was the first to speak. ‘I really wish we were sending Rattrick in to join this band. I sense he has great sympathy for us Townies, even more so since his son is involved with one.’
‘I’ve heard rumours his attitude to women has changed as well. I think Savannah may have something to do with that.’ Ganieda gave a wry smile.
‘I think Geraint will be useful in this. He seems to have a courage and wisdom way beyond his years.’
‘Speaking as the baby of us all, you’re only a couple of years older than him, Slater.’ Archer couldn’t resist the tease; he was fond of the lad. ‘You’re right, of course. I know some of you think Hereward is not the most reliable of people and may decide to throw in his lot with these other Renegates.’
‘It is certainly a possibility I have considered, but go on, finish your
thought.’
‘I know I was only Geraint’s age when I met Hereward, but there was something honourable about him then. I can’t believe he would want to join these lawless swine.’
‘Because he’s not the slightest bit lawless himself.’
‘He may not follow our laws, but he’s keen to follow a reasonable moral code.’
‘I agree.’ Kalen nodded toward Archer. ‘But it’s another reason I want to accompany Siany tomorrow; I will get more of a sense of his character if I meet him.’
Kalen wasn’t expecting to be completely charmed by Hereward, but as when he first met Rattrick, he saw a fair-minded, self-disciplined leader whose first interest was always the welfare of his tribe. Like most of the villagers, Kalen had been brought up to believe the Renegates were dirty, uncouth types with no manners and even less education. Having met one or two, it came as no surprise they were clean, albeit a little scruffy, civil, and knowledgeable on many of his areas of interest.
The men who’d ridden up ahead of the tribe had been busy while the others were in Aveburgh. Those with contacts in the local villages and hamlets had visited them to find out what they knew, and the most fruitful was Ryder. Although now with Pitivo’s tribe, his family were originally from Wantage near Oxford, and some lived in Marlburgh. They had many friends still living there who were getting regular reports about the troubles only ten miles away. Rattrick briefed the men with what happened at the meeting; then it was Ryder’s turn.
‘It is every bit as bad as you described. These men have no regard for the people they stop. They do not follow the code which says you only take from people who can afford it.’
‘Everyone can afford something, even if it’s just a loaf of bread in return for safe passage.’ Rattrick’s wolfish smile was a direct reminder to Kalen of their first meeting and he grinned in return.
Ryder did not appreciate the interruption and his next words were tinged with suppressed anger. ‘But we do not offer violence under any circumstances. It is sufficient that we stop them and ask for toll, most people are frightened enough by the threat.’
‘It used to be enough until a certain junior defied a tribal chief and it was turned into a song.’
‘Is that what you believe, Andrzej? Then you’re more of a fool than I took you for.’ Hereward would not let that one go. ‘Have you not seen how much easier it is to collect tolls since that ballad? It turned Archer into a hero, but it turned us from ruthless cut-throats into romantic knights of the road, ready to do the honourable thing.’
Andrzej shrugged his agreement. ‘I never thought about it like that, but I think I can see the sense of it.’
‘I should hope so. Doug paid handsomely for the story, but he’s made a name for his band all round the country, so everyone wins.’
‘Don’t forget all the attention from the ladies; they love the idea of a real-life Robin Hood.’
Rattrick’s comment brought laughter from everyone except Ryder, who cut across it with a bitter comment. ‘The trouble is they are all too used to your courtly manners, giving them a thrill as you relieve them of their jewels. So they are not prepared when these brutes come along with their wanton violence and evil ways.’
The wicked grins shared by the Wessex Renegates turned to remorse as the impact of his words registered. After a pause, Kalen shared something Finn had said. ‘The only redeeming feature is that the word spread very quickly after the first few merchants were hit, and the people of Oxford have mostly stayed at home.’
Rattrick voiced the thought troubling many of Hereward’s men. ‘What about the marshals? Surely they can provide some security for the Townies. These men are well trained and well-armed.’
‘They’ve not been able to do anything effective to catch these rogues, but they’ve done an excellent job of keeping the streets safe.’ Hereward saluted their courage; he had a good relationship with many of them
Ryder filled in more details. ‘The volunteer watch has every able-bodied man taking a turn at guarding the city gates. They are protected all day and all night, and no one is allowed in or out without a safe-conduct pass signed by one of the council.’
‘I heard about a sunset curfew, and rationing has already begun.’ Kalen added the snippets which had made it to Marlburgh.
‘Not surprising; no-one wants to risk going near the city to trade. The markets must be deserted.’ Hereward struggled to imagine the great city brought to its knees.
Ryder defended the city. ‘I played there as a boy. Don’t underestimate their courage and resilience. But the good people are united. The craftsmen and women have stopped making anything which is not essential, and every effort is being put into preserving the city’s store of food, making weapons and training people to defend themselves.’
‘They picked on the wrong city at the wrong time if their plan is to starve them out. They’d have to be dullards to wait until the harvest is all but complete and choose a city which manufactures weapons for well over half of the country.’ Savannah had watched without comment but her cool assessment set every man thinking afresh.
Kalen was the first to recover. ‘Everything we’ve heard so far points to the fact that a dullard is the last thing he is. He must have a bigger plan than just taking over the city.’
‘Then it’s essential we get close enough to find out what it is before he has a chance to manifest it.’ Hereward would have ridden out there and then, but Rattrick and Ryder managed to persuade him it would make more sense to wait until the wagons arrived and to play out the plot they’d devised at the previous eve’s meeting.
38 Infiltrators
‘Tell me again about this Rattrick. My brother said he was a true Renegate and yet you say he acts like a woman. That means you’re calling my brother a liar.’
Hereward knew a thing or two about the cold face, and steeled his muscles to show no reaction to Guaril’s trick question or Gunari’s dull blade pressing into his neck. He knew full well if he got this wrong, a deft twist would have the sharp side slicing through his windpipe in an instant.
‘Your brother is many things, and I’m sure he’s told a tale or two in his time, but his judgement of men in general, and Rattrick in particular, is faultless.’
‘You use a lot of words where one would do, but your fancy rhetoric entertained me. Beware, however, I have scant attention for words; I prefer action.’ Guaril’s hand nestled the twin of his brother’s fine dagger which he used to slice a crescent from a juicy apple. The man knew full well he had the attention of every man there, and no lungs received any oxygen as they all waited for his next move.
Inside, the Renegate leader grinned. He knew every trick to manipulate an audience, being quite adept himself, but this man’s mastery was the stuff of legends. Not a muscle on Hereward’s face moved until a wave of the knife gestured for him to resume his explanation. He went for a middle line between elaboration and brevity. ‘Rattrick is a great leader of men, but it’s many years since his wife died and he’s softening in his old age. He got caught up in an Esbat down in Kent and it seems to have turned his head.’
‘Maybe the witch has him under a spell. So how come she’s warming your bed now instead of his?’
Hereward went with his instinct to shrug, despite knowing the blade would dig deeper into his throat. ‘Maybe she tired of his weakness. She has many … skills.’
‘An an eye for powerful men it seems. Perhaps I should watch out in case she sets her sights on me.’ He made no attempt to disguise the hunger in his look as his gaze swept over the dress designed to accentuate her curves.
So far everything was going to plan. When Savannah proposed her idea, every man there had to agree it was masterful in so many ways. It gave a credible explanation for the massive rift between the three tribes who had been getting closer for several years now with the increasing number of joint sporting events.
It also gave Hereward an excuse to turn up with most of the women and children in his tribe missing.
All the men who volunteered to go with him only did so because their families had the choice to stay with Rattrick or Pitivo’s tribes. Many of the women appreciated the consideration, particularly those with young families. Only two of the younger women volunteered to stay with their husbands and sons: The mothers of Manfrid and Tamas. Both strong-willed, they defied the advice to stay in safety and had taken part in rigorous warrior training exercises with Rattrick’s two trainers, who had both agreed to swap tribes until it ended. Hereward’s mother refused to leave her son, saying she was far too old for anyone to try anything and they’d see the wrong end of her walking stick if they did. The following discussion became heated as people debated the notion that Hereward would keep his mother in the van when he’d taken on a new woman. He merely pointed out the separate sleeping arrangements. She had the last word on the matter, insisting her loyalty to her son would give the whole idea of a split more credibility.
Rattrick objected violently to the idea Savannah should pretend to be Hereward’s mate and attempt to attract Guaril. He tried everything he could think of to dissuade her, but once her mind was set, no man could make her change it.
Seeing the way she affected a haughty disdain at this powerful madman’s lascivious interest, Hereward had to admit she looked irresistible. He felt the potent allure and wondered for the umpteenth time if she would ever leave Rattrick. Before the thought completed, she turned her gaze on him and he immediately became aware of his situation and concentrated on his task. He couldn’t help but wonder if she really knew how dangerous a game she played.
‘I do, but do you?’ The question echoed inside his head, but her lips had not moved and he knew she’d mind-linked.
Focussing on his tormentor, he realised he’d missed a question. Hot blood surged into his cheeks, but he knew it all formed part of her plan. ‘I’m sorry, my mind was …’
‘I can see where your mind was, no need to explain. I said; where does Pitivo stand on this dispute?’
