Shadow Lands Trilogy

by Simon Lister

  ‘It’s been a long journey,’ Arthur said and raised the cup to Hengest before draining the beer. As Cei gathered some food from the table the talking struck up again. Elowen was telling the Anglians about the attack on Eald and though they listened avidly about this new enemy and continually interrupted her with questions, it was clear that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Few of the Anglians had been so close to Arthur and Morgund smiled as he watched them sneak glances and try to match the various stories they had heard with the man standing before them talking casually to their warlord.

  Ruadan had started telling his version of events to Hengest, which left Ceinwen standing alone amongst the warriors. She felt entirely out of place and quietly joined Cei and Arthur. Cei made room for her and introduced her to some of the warriors nearby most of whom barely nodded to her. Cei shrugged in an offhand apology and Ceinwen grimaced, ‘I’m never going to remember all these names.’

  Cei laughed, ‘Just do what Balor does – don’t acknowledge anyone by name for at least a year.’

  She looked at him enquiringly.

  ‘He reckons it isn’t worth getting to know a new warrior until they’ve been around for a while.’

  She nodded in understanding but didn’t look any the happier.

  ‘Besides,’ Cei continued, realising his lack of tact, ‘you’ll soon know them all well enough to be thoroughly sick of them.’

  Cei’s attention was diverted away by Arthur and Ceinwen gazed around at the gathered warriors feeling, if anything, less encouraged than she previously was. Her eyes settled on Balor who was berating the young Elowen for exaggerating her tale of Eald and he took over from her, reasoning that if anyone was going to tell the bad news it should be him. The noise level grew as curses and questions rallied back and forth but one question remained unasked despite it being at the forefront of most their minds; how did Arthur escape from Branque and a five hundred strong Shadow Land army. But not one of them, Anglian or Wessex, had even entertained the idea of directly asking him.

  Arthur and Cei moved closer to the doorway to get away from the babble around the long table and Ceinwen automatically followed them. Cei noticed how miserable and alone she looked. He put a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of understanding and the three of them left the overcrowded room. Arthur was still using his longbow as a crutch and the pain from the wound was evident on his face. Ceinwen noticed fresh blood was seeping into the bandaging around his thigh.

  ‘Arthur, your leg will need looking at again – if you can’t rest it then it ought to be stitched.’

  ‘Your powder has taken away any fever.’

  ‘Still...’ Ceinwen replied.

  ‘Very well, but first I need to talk to Hengest and Ruadan. Ask them to join us on the East wall.’

  She nodded but it was Cei who went back into the building to get the other two. The five of them walked to the eastern wall and climbed the steps up to the parapet. Arthur struggled to get up the steps and arrived last.

  ‘How’s Trevenna?’ he asked Cei once he had joined them.

  ‘She’s fine, Arthur, fine. But I’m worried, she’s further up the coast waiting on the longboats.’

  ‘We should have heard by now,’ Hengest added.

  ‘Then you’ve had no news,’ Arthur said, leaning against the wall for support.

  ‘None,’ Cei replied.

  ‘I don’t think the longboats will be coming back, Cei,’ Arthur said, looking back down the Causeway towards the East.

  ‘You think they were attacked too?’ Hengest asked.

  ‘Two Shadow Land armies attacked Eald and Branque at the same time and when all their harvest and supplies were ready for the journey. It wasn’t chance. If you could co-ordinate that, wouldn’t you hit the Belgae at the same time and take their supplies too?’

  Cei and Hengest exchanged looks.

  ‘But we sent thirty men – all experienced and good warriors,’ Hengest said.

  Arthur lowered his head and rubbed his hand across his eyes. ‘Thirty against five-hundred with the sea to their backs and nowhere to go,’ Arthur said and turned to them, ‘Perhaps some will make it back but I believe we’ve lost the Belgae villages too.’

  ‘You can’t know that, Arthur,’ Cei said, more in appeal than with any real conviction.

  ‘Keep your hope Cei but whether the Belgae have fallen or not we have greater concerns now. We’ll be next. And they’ll come this way,’ Arthur said, pointing to the Causeway leading from the East.

  ‘So many dead. Where did these Shadow Land armies come from? Are they Uathach?’ Cei asked.

  ‘They aren’t Uathach,’ Arthur said.

  ‘They couldn’t raise an army that size,’ Ruadan joined the conversation, ‘how can you support such an army? How would you feed that many warriors? They weren’t even like us...’ Ruadan trailed off, unable to explain further what he meant.

  ‘Questions for the King’s Council at Caer Sulis,’ Arthur said, but privately he hoped Merdynn might have the answers.

  ‘I just can’t believe all at Eald and Branque are dead. Andala? Old Narlos too? Everyone?’ Cei asked turning to Ceinwen.

  ‘I saw Andala die. Narlos too. I saw dozens die. We looked for people who might have fled the slaughter but...’ Ceinwen shrugged and turned her eyes away from them.

  ‘Caja?’ asked Cei softly.

  ‘She was dancing when they came through the windows and main door,’ Arthur replied for her.

  ‘Dead too?’ Hengest remembered the happy redheaded girl from last year’s journey and could not keep the disbelief from his voice.

  Ceinwen nodded, trying desperately not to break down crying in front of them.

  Cei looked sick, he remembered the girl chatting to him and asking him endless questions as they covered the miles back to her village, and he remembered taking the same girl to Branque back when she was just an infant.

  ‘We’ve heard what happened at Eald but tell us what happened at Branque, Arthur,’ Cei asked.

  Arthur rubbed his eyes once more and told them the details of the sudden attack. Again Cei and Hengest were appalled, Ruadan had seen similar at Eald. Arthur finished by saying, ‘Understand this and make sure all your warriors understand this. This is not some Uathach border raid. Whatever this Shadow Land army is and wherever it’s come from, it will bring unremitting war to us, our families and all our peoples. They have shown no mercy and we can be certain they will not treaty. We already know that all the warriors we have, even combined with the king’s war band, are still outnumbered by at least two to one. And this is the way they will come first,’ Arthur pointed once again down the Causeway to the East. ‘Send word for all the gathered villages that haven’t already left to move immediately to the Westway and journey to Caer Sulis. The thirty of the Wessex war band with your men in the North shall remain with you here at the Gates. Ruadan, you stay here too and help Hengest plan and construct how to defend this Causeway against an army. Cei, we need to journey to Caer Sulis and inform the King’s Council of what’s happened.’

  Ruadan and Hengest stayed on the parapet and started to plan the defences that would best hold against a concerted attack while Arthur and Cei climbed back down the steps. Ceinwen waited at the top reluctant to leave Ruadan but he and Hengest were already deep in conversation debating the pros and cons of various defences and eventually she too climbed back down. Cei had gone to organise his warriors and was nowhere in sight but Ceinwen saw Arthur resting by a water trough and, taking a deep breath, she made her way towards him.

  Arthur looked up as she approached. She sat down beside him without saying anything and he began unravelling the bandage from his thigh.

  ‘I’m sorry for what happened at Branque – sorry you lost Andala and Caja.’

  Ceinwen nodded, ‘You did what you could. We weren’t prepared.’

  ‘And thank you for dragging me into that stable.’

  Ceinwen looked up at him surprised by his tone. She shrugged but
was unable to return the gratitude; she felt that she too had died at Branque.

  ‘The Anglian’s healer is called Henna – I saw her over by that building,’ Arthur said and indicated which one he meant.

  Ceinwen realised he was telling her to go and fetch whatever she needed to see to his wound and she was almost relieved that his previous gentleness had vanished. She got to her feet and went to find Henna wondering if perhaps she had mistaken Arthur’s earlier tone.

  She found the healer and got all she needed. She strolled back to where Arthur was still sitting reminding herself that no matter what memories or feelings their unexpected meeting had re-woken she hardly knew this man at all; and she was fairly certain she didn’t want to get to know him any better.

  She told him to lie on his front so that she could work on the wound to the back of his thigh. She laid a clean cloth under the leg and washed the deep cut with alcohol before closing the gash with eight stitches. When she had finished she smeared an ointment around the wound and rubbed it thoroughly into the flesh. Taking a fresh length of cloth she firmly wound a bandage around his thigh and told him he could sit back up again. She handed him the pot of ointment, ‘You’ll need to change the bandage every day and rub this around the stitches. And don’t stop the powders yet either – they’ll help prevent any fever.’

  Arthur smiled, but it wasn’t a smile of amusement, ‘You should join the war band again.’

  Ceinwen looked at him, suddenly seeing him as he was twenty years ago. Even then he had the knack of saying something that wasn’t quite an ultimatum, or a command or even a suggestion but it came across somehow as an inevitable conclusion to an already thoroughly debated argument and it only made it more exasperating that he was invariably right.

  Before she had the chance to contradict him he continued, ‘You’re a natural warrior: in the hall at Branque you fought back; you knew to check my horse was not silhouetted against the skyline on the hill above the village; you’d seen that the arrowheads weren’t barbed even though you weren’t looking for it; you can still read tracks in the ground as well, or better, than anyone in the war band; your healing skills are better than ever. And you’re younger, fitter and more capable than our current healer. We need you, now more than ever. Britain stands on the brink of war and I want you with us,’ Arthur got awkwardly to his feet and looked down at her, ‘but you’ll need to get used to our short bows and you’ll need to start practising your sword work again if you want to survive and be of any use to us.’

  Ceinwen watched him as he limped away, ‘What a bastard,’ she muttered softly. He had praised, complimented, insulted and challenged her but more than any of these he, of all people, had given her a purpose, a cause, a reason to live and that was something she desperately needed; and he had known it.

  *

  After they had rested for several hours Arthur and Cei left the Causeway Gates and took the paths up the cliffs. Ceinwen had decided, at least for now, to travel with them. Riding with them were Mar’h, Balor, Ethain, Morgund and Elowen from the Wessex war band and Aelfhelm, Cerdic and Leah from the Anglian warriors. Word had been sent north and west to move all the remaining gathered villagers onto the Westway and make for Caer Sulis. Ruadan remained at the Gates where he would be joined by the other thirty from the Wessex war band from North Anglia once their villagers were on the Westway. Together with the Anglians there would be about a hundred warriors to help prepare the defences on the Causeway under the joint command of Hengest and Ruadan.

  When they reached the top of the cliffs they were bathed once more in sunshine. They all turned their horses to look back at the shadowed marshes that stretched back to the East. The Gates below them looked more like a child’s toy, tiny in the expanse that lay before it. The Causeway leading from the Gates cut a straight line through the marshland and pointed back to the forests that were beyond their sight.

  The sun hung suspended just above the eastern horizon and in the clear late autumn sky they could already pick out one or two of the brighter stars of winter. Leah pointed one of them out to Ethain and Elowen who were next to her and she began to softly sing one of her people’s songs telling how the star had lost her way in the heavens and was doomed to sail the cold winter skies forever. Reluctantly they turned their backs on the setting sun and with Leah still singing softly, made their way northwest toward the Westway.

  Much to Balor’s disappointment Tomas hadn’t gotten lost and they caught up with him and the surviving villagers from Eald at the end of their first day’s ride and Arthur decided they should make camp together. The country was open grassland and they rode some miles out of their way to camp on a hilltop that was crowned with a small grove of beech and oak trees. As they rode into the sheltered copse hundreds of crows and ravens took to the air in outraged alarm and Mar’h immediately named the copse ‘Dunraven’ and the name stuck. Some of the villagers stretched canvas between the trees to create a more sheltered place to sleep while others set about cooking the last meal of the day. Arthur and Cei were feeding their horses and watching the villagers.

  ‘It’s as if they’re just sleep-walking,’ Cei said quietly.

  ‘They’ve seen their neighbours and families slaughtered. They’re wondering how and why they got out alive,’ Arthur said.

  ‘Because Ruadan and your lads were there. That’s why.’

  ‘Have you seen Tomas since we made camp?’ Arthur asked, suddenly remembering he had not talked to him since the attack on Eald.

  ‘I think he went off with Elowen to find a quieter place,’ Cei replied smiling.

  Elowen and Tomas were both young, neither had reached twenty yet but to the disapproval of their two families they had fallen in love. Elowen’s family had not wanted her to marry a warrior while Tomas’s had insisted that her family were too poor for a son of theirs. The pair of them had decided the only fair solution was to insult both families equally. Tomas had married Elowen and she had joined the Wessex war band. Together they made a handsome couple and held the promise of becoming good warriors.

  Arthur had not noticed Cei’s smile and his thoughts had already reverted back to the attacks across the Causeway, ‘There must have been six-hundred villagers gathered at Eald. This is all that’s left. None from Branque, other than Ceinwen, and none from the Belgae,’ he said.

  ‘They had no warriors, Arthur. Living on the borders of Middangeard they should have had their own war bands.’

  ‘And how long do you think their warriors would have held out against those Shadow Land armies? How long will we hold out against them?’

  They moved away from the camp and walked in silence to the North edge of the copse. On the lip of the hill they saw Ceinwen and Leah. Ceinwen had appropriated some old weapons from the Anglians and was sitting cross-legged on her upturned shield. Leah was lying on her cloak, one arm propping her head up and she twisted around to see who approached. She flicked her long, fair hair from her round face to reveal sky blue eyes set wide of a long nose above her full, pale lips. Even lying down it was obvious she was a tall woman, strong limbed with long, well-muscled legs. She looked to be quite the opposite of the slightly built Ceinwen beside her.

  The two of them had formed a friendship some years back during one of the long journeys from Branque to the Haven and having talked through the recent events they now sat in companionable silence. Leah made to get up when she recognised them but Cei motioned for her to remain where she was.

  ‘They’ve got some food by the fire back there,’ Cei said.

  ‘Thanks Cei, we’ve already brought some food here – help yourself,’ Leah answered. She replaced the circlet round her head that kept her long, straw-coloured hair off her face and made room for him to sit down on her spread cloak. He sat next to her and accepted the offered cup of wine.

  ‘How’s your leg, Arthur?’ Ceinwen asked.

  Arthur was staring down on the shadowed woodland that stretched below them. He still leant heavily on his unstrung lo
ngbow. Leah loosened the silver-embedded leather band that encircled her throat and looked across to Arthur waiting for him to reply to Ceinwen and when it became clear no answer was forthcoming she turned to Cei, ‘We were just talking of the legends about that place.’

  Cei reached across her and selected an apple from their unfinished meal.

  ‘The Veiled City. The Cithol. Star Walkers of the Ghost Woods. I’ve heard the tales and myths since I was a child,’ Ceinwen said.

  ‘Ever been tempted to travel through those woods when you were younger?’ Leah asked her.

  ‘Gods no! They may just be tales but I’ll take the longer roads thank you,’ she replied.

  ‘They aren’t just tales,’ Arthur said, still standing with his back to them. Both Leah and Ceinwen looked at him to see if he jested.

  ‘The Star Walkers are very much there, and always have been,’ Arthur continued.

  Cei stood up and said, ‘Let’s not talk of them here, eh? The shadows are long enough and there’s a fire to warm ourselves by.’

  Leah shuddered involuntarily as she and Ceinwen stood up. Cei led them back toward the camp. Arthur stayed behind lost in thought and gazing down on the expanse of shadowed woodland.

  Chapter Three

  After several hours rest the camp stirred into life and the first meal of the day was made ready. Ceinwen collected a bowl of food from one of the villagers who looked like he had spent the last few hours weeping. The villagers reminded her of the refugees she had seen from Uathach raids all those years ago when she was with the war band, and she wondered if she could really face that life again.