Dark Oak

by Sannox, Jacob

  ‘Nothing has been so clear in my short and deeply unsatisfying life, ma’am.’

  Callum approached from the side and hooked the boarding axe from its loop on Lynch’s belt. He gave the captain a wide berth as he moved round him to draw a cutlass from its baldric. That done, Callum backed away with the two axes under one arm and pointing the cutlass towards Lynch.

  ‘You missed the knife, son,’ said Lynch. ‘Look in the boot.’

  ‘Declan. Get it.’

  Her youngest reached from his position, crouched by his mother’s feet, and after failing to find the weapon in the left boot, withdrew it from the right.

  ‘I am naked and exposed, ma’am. At yer mercy, so to speak,’ said Lynch.

  ‘All right, Captain, back in the stable.’

  ‘Beg pardon?’

  ‘Back in the stable you go. We’ll lock the bottom door and converse with a barrier between us. Quick about it.’ Her voice was stern and Lynch laughed.

  ‘I’m quite put out by all this, but as you would have it, ma’am.’

  Rowan drew aside, and Declan scuttled away on his hands and knees. Lynch spun on his heels and, keeping his hands on his head, he backed into the stable. Rowan bent to lock it and, finally satisfied, she turned to her sons.

  ‘Callum, take your brother inside and return with a lantern.’

  Declan made no objection, and the two boys broke into a run back towards the house. She was proud they had done so well, but sorry to make them take a part in it at all. She hoped they would sleep for at least some of the rest of the night, but then the thought shocked her. Was she to be so easily lured into believing this man meant them no harm?

  Whilst the boys were gone, they stood in darkness facing one another, yet seeing nothing.

  ‘Strong lads?’ asked Lynch.

  ‘Aye, strong enough,’ replied Rowan.

  ‘You said you could offer aid?’ said Lynch.

  Rowan folded her arms and rubbed them with her gloved hands. The snow was falling heavier, and she shivered.

  ‘How many on your crew?’

  ‘There were fifty. Thirty-three have made it this far. I knew we didn’t have a chance heading south through the scorched lands; the Wastes, Culrain and such. Figured there are men in the Hinterland and women too, begging your pardon? “If hope is to be found,” I said to the men, “it’ll be in the Hinterland.”’

  Rowan thought for a moment.

  ‘Hope is not found in abundance here, I must admit, but we could be allies. Most folk in these parts are under Awgren’s boot against their own will and good judgement. I will help if I can, though I do ask your assistance in return. I can house your men in the barn, and we have some stores to feed you if you’ll work for it.’

  ‘And that’s all you ask? We have no more coin than our personal purses contain.’

  Rowan laughed. A light turned the corner of the lodge, and she could see Callum running hard towards her with sword in one hand and lantern held high in the other.

  ‘Here you are, Mother.’

  ‘Good lad. Now get inside the lodge, and bar the door. Check the windows are barred too.’

  ‘I should stay with you.’

  ‘Go protect our family. Be the man of the house, eh?’

  Callum hesitated, weighing up his duties, then did as he was bid. Rowan watched him disappear out of the reach of the lantern and then turned her attention back to Lynch. He was cloaked in a wolf pelt, but she could see a leather waistcoat underneath. A leather tri-corner hat covered his head and straggles of frozen hair hung down at his jaw. A scraggly beard covered his face and patches of his hair reached right up to the bags under his eyes. He had kind eyes, Rowan thought, predatory eyes, but still kind.

  He looks like the kind of man who’d take you by throat then tell you he loves you.

  Blood rushed to her cheeks and, grateful for the snow upon them, she forgave herself the thought and persisted.

  ‘We are in the thrall of an overseer here, appointed by Awgren. There’s an encampment of Devised by the river. They make sport of us as they see fit, and we dare not rise up as our men are all away fighting in Awgren’s army; that same army your people are facing, I have no doubt. They may already be dead.’

  Lynch heard the sadness in her voice and leant forward over the door, his heart going out to her. He too knew what it was like to be separated from loved ones, having left a lover back in Eastport and a wife in Brookmouth; children in both.

  ‘What would you have us do?’ he asked, his voice soft.

  ‘I do not know.’ The words came slow.

  ‘Fight them?’ asked Lynch, worried. ‘My men are not soldiers, nor naval men. We can fight, though brawl might be a better word for it. We have tough knuckles and can wield either belaying pin or a bar stool, but sword against armour? We can try, but I can’t vouch for the outcome.’

  Rowan said nothing for a time.

  ‘Perhaps we can talk more on this,’ she said, finally.

  ‘Agreed, if you will shelter us before I lose anyone else? They hide in the forest not far from here. And if I can send a few riders south to get word of the campaign?’

  ‘You want horses?’

  ‘As many as you can spare. My men will fetch word of the invasion and of your menfolk, then return,’ he said.

  Rowan turned her back to him and looked out over the snow-covered outbuildings to the plains stretching west, seaward, the Impassable Forest forming their northern border. The trees stood resolute and unmoved by the white that gathered at their feet and settled upon their brows.

  She turned back to Lynch.

  ‘We have an agreement. Fetch your people, and get them into the barn. I’ll ready food and what blankets I can provide.’

  She took his weapons and his cloak, but let him take the horse. The night was nearly over and the sun threatened to leap up in the east before the crew of the Hope emerged from the treeline to make their way towards the homestead. True to her word, Rowan ushered them inside the barn and, after seeing the horse safely returned to the stable, she returned Captain Lynch’s weapons.

  ‘My thanks, ma’am.’

  ‘You were true to your word and so I must act in kind,’ she replied. ‘There’s salted meat, fish and some stew in the lodge; bread too, if some of your people will lend a hand to bring it over?’

  It was done with little fuss, and the men devoured the food in mere minutes. She thought them a ragged and inadequate bunch compared with the likes of her husband. In truth, her heart quailed a little at relying on the strength of their arms. She was impressed this band had made it from the coast, given how woefully unsuited they were to scratching a living from the forest. They carried no bows, nor had they managed to construct any. Their weapons were all designed for a single purpose; culling and slashing anyone who boarded the Hope or anyone whose vessel they in turn had decided to board. To a man they were malnourished, lean and with untrimmed beards.

  Rowan watched Lynch finish off a piece of bread. He had the eager look of a beggar dining on game prepared in the queen’s own kitchens.

  ‘Are any of them ready to work, or do they need to sleep first?’ she asked.

  Lynch looked up and licked crumbs from the cupped palm of his hand.

  ‘We could all do with sleep, ma’am, but if needs be, I’ll set some of them to it, and they can catch up later. What needs doing?’

  She was half tempted to take pity on them, tempted also to tell him to call her Rowan. She relented to neither urge.

  ‘We’ll need men posted at each extreme of my land to watch for approaching Devised. My boys will direct the rest of them. Can you see to it?’ she asked, eyebrows raised expectantly.

  Lynch nodded slowly, unsmiling. He thought her presumptuous and that she had the air of one who came from what privilege the Hinterland knew.

  ‘I can that.’ He maintained eye contact as he called out to his men.

  ‘All right, lads, about it. Goody’s division have first watch. Goody, re
port to the lodge for instruction.’

  Lynch turned back to Rowan.

  ‘What’s your boy’s name, ma’am, if you please?’

  ‘Callum,’ she replied. ‘The younger is Declan, and you will take instruction from him too.’ She directed her words at Goody. The man nodded and disappeared out of the barn.

  ‘Close the door after you,’ she called. Seconds later it was pushed home. She turned her attention back to Lynch.

  ‘Once your men are rested, you can take three of the horses south. They can bear word to my husband, should the opportunity arise to speak with him?’

  Lynch nodded.

  ‘And what do you have in mind for us here, aside from working your land, ma’am?’ he enquired, his voice low. He leant back against a bale of hay, crossing his legs at the ankle so the tops of his booted feet touched.

  Rowan sat down opposite him, ensuring her long skirts covered her legs as she did so.

  ‘I do not know how to proceed for the best. Your presence does not change my position, in many ways. If we overthrow the overseer and the Devised, Awgren may take vengeance on our men in his army.’

  ‘Only if he hears of it,’ Lynch replied, and she was taken aback by the severity of his stare when it met her eyes. ‘How many creatures are there? How many men loyal to your overseer?’

  Rowan’s eyes gleamed, and Lynch thought she looked as though she had been waiting for an opportunity to show off her knowledge.

  ‘Sixty-eight beasts with minds, at last count, and ten or so which are nothing but gargantuan animals. Twenty militia guards at the village, but I doubt many would take side with the Devised – even the overseer. He’s a collaborator, but not one of them really,’ she conceded.

  Lynch mused on this and took a swig from his water-skin.

  ‘Two to one. Slightly more. We could maybe do something. I’d need to think on it. Can you get me a map of the area or would you be so kind as to draw me one?’

  Before Rowan could reply Lynch shifted position and spoke again.

  ‘I’m not sure you weren’t right in the beginning. Any intervention on our part may go very badly for you and the people of this village. And my crew could end up dead. Surely there are other encampments in the Hinterland?’

  Rowan glared at him.

  ‘So not a man of his word, after all, Captain. Should I even call you that? A trading tub has a captain, does it? Or are you just a boy, playing at boats?’ she snarled. She saw his eyes dim, but was too annoyed to feel any pity, yet though she was resolute in her anger she knew she would regret her words later on. No matter. She would maul him until he cried off from objecting.

  ‘This is what we have to look forward to under the reign of Cathryn? Puling boys, beggars, thieves and liars? Perhaps I would be better off going to the overseer about your appearance.’

  Her voice had raised to such a degree that some of the men heard and Wilson, the Hope’s master, drew his cutlass.

  Lynch stood, and as soon as she saw him do so, Rowan did the same.

  ‘We are here as your guests and have no desire to do you harm, ma’am. Trading captain I may be and privateer of late, but I take threats no more kindly than does any man. Speak reasonable or speak not, eh?’ He leant in closer. ‘Do you think we will sleep easier worrying that you or yours may be away to betray us? In our place, would you let that risk stand? Think of your own neck before you threaten mine.’

  ‘You would dictate to me on my own land?’ Her fists rammed into the top of her hips. It took everything in her not to lick her lips as her mouth dried out. She tried to rise above the welling bowl of emotion to think, and she could feel a tremor beginning to strum throughout her body as adrenaline flooded into her.

  Lynch exchanged a look with the master and sat down.

  ‘Shall we begin again?’

  Rowan stood for near a minute, staring down at him.

  ‘Ma’am?’

  She gave no reply and then, finally, she sat once more. The master sheathed his cutlass, but moved to the door.

  Rowan stared down at her boots, breathing hard.

  Lynch took off his tricorn and retied his hair while he waited for his host to regain her composure.

  ‘Let’s start with the map. Perhaps you can speak to those you know to be willing to take a stand. See what they are prepared to do?’ then as an afterthought, ‘What would be the most defensible place in the village?’ asked Lynch.

  Her eyes turned towards him, and he could see that she was still furious. She looked down again and Lynch felt a sudden intuition that this was her mask, and the lady was struggling to take it off.

  ‘Wilson,’ he called, ‘tell those not on-duty to sleep, then you do the same. Understood?’

  ‘Aye, Captain,’ said Wilson. He was a hard man and in the back of his mind, Lynch wondered whether the old sailor could be entrusted with Rowan’s safety if he considered her a threat.

  He groaned, and his knees clicked as he stood. Rowan looked up at him, and he extended a hand to help her to her feet. Rowan hesitated then wrapped her fingers round his wrist and allowed him to take her weight as she hauled herself up.

  ‘I’ll see what I can find out. Let us both think the matter over and reconvene later in the day. I’ve work to do in the meantime.’

  She did not wait for a reply, and Lynch was left to watch the sway of her hips as she stalked out of the barn. He turned back to his crew, who were settling in to the hay.

  ‘That about proves it lads. They always say you can’t outrun your troubles. It’s because women are trouble, and they’re bloody everywhere.’

  He unslung his cutlass and settled into the hay, pulling his tricorn down over his eyes. As he began to grow sleepy, his planning for the coming days gave way to thoughts of Rowan.

  The sway of her hips.

  Chapter Six

  ‘You have known that this is how it would be from the very beginning!’ bellowed Lord Lachlan. The sound was tremendous and without a word, the guards shrank back further into the shadows and even Lord Aldwyn, hardened in battle, jumped.

  Lord Linwood remained unmoved however and stood tall before the queen and Lord of the Isles.

  ‘And, with respect, lord, is it not the case that my people are my own to command?’

  ‘They are not your people, Linwood!’ Lachlan roared, leaping up from his chair. Cathryn wrapped a hand around his forearm as she stood to join him and though his face shed none of the anger, he straightened a little and much of the tension left his body; he looked less ready to pounce.

  Linwood’s face showed little emotion, and he set his gaze upon Cathryn, ignoring Lachlan.

  ‘I will do as you command, but I will speak my mind, as always, Your Majesty.’

  Cathryn nodded, ignoring Lachlan’s sigh, so Linwood continued.

  ‘No one questions that your house rules over the Combined People, on that I must be clear. However, it is well known that my own bloodline ties me closer to the throne of Crinan than does yours, and while you must think of your whole realm, my heart speaks to me the loudest not only of my current seat in Stragglers’ Drift, but my ancestral homeland.’

  ‘We have all fought hard to win back these lands, and none can question my loyalty. Did my heavy cavalry not break through the lines of the enemy and ultimately force them into retreat? Is this not the perfect time for me to seize the throne if I wished it? My men vastly outnumber yours…’

  ‘They are not your men,’ Lachlan growled, ‘and though you may command them, think not that they have no loyalty for my wife.’

  Linwood raised both hands in a pacifying gesture, continuing to engage only with Cathryn.

  ‘I do not wish to cause dissent, but I believe that returning Crinan to its former splendour is the reason I am alive. It is all my line has thought of for a thousand years.’

  ‘You say you wish to return my army home and that Lord Lachlan will lead a force to take control of the Hinterland, leaving but a handful of my people upon the coasts
of Crinan. I ask then, for what did my men and I fight?’ asked Linwood.

  ‘Allow me to land a force to reinforce our foothold at Oystercatcher Bay and then march for the Hinterland. I can use the territory as a staging ground for ordering Crinan and for sending out parties to ensure the Wastes are cleared of any remaining Devised which may roam the land or lie quiet in their holes. What interest does the Lord of the Isles have in the Hinterland?’ Linwood concluded.

  Lachlan’s mighty chest rose and fell, his eyes boring into Linwood though the lord of Stragglers’ Drift remained impassive and continued to shun Lachlan.

  ‘We have discussed this at length,’ said Lachlan.

  ‘Yet I was never satisfied,’ said Linwood.

  ‘Do you forget that I am of the line of Culrain? That I have a claim to the throne there? Yet I have the wit to see that committing large numbers of troops to hold ground that will be useless for centuries to come, will do nothing but waste men’s years and require much exertion when our efforts are needed elsewhere. I go to the Hinterland as the queen believes that my presence will lend significance to our dealings with those who dwell there. If indeed it is true that the Hinterland could supply more than its own people, then of course we will think again on our plans, but with Lord Aldwyn’s discovery of the South Continent and the settlement of colonies there, we must think of reinforcing our claim there as well as strengthening what lands we already hold. Is it not true, Aldwyn, that you have encountered new peoples there?’

  ‘It is true, lord. They have thus far been easily subdued, but I cannot say it will be the case for everyone who dwells there. We have not yet ventured far.’

  ‘You see?’ said Lachlan. ‘While we commit troops to poisoned dirt buried deep under ash, who knows what new enemies could rise up against us?’

  ‘Perhaps the Isles are vulnerable in your absence, Lachlan, but I would not have left the Drift undefended. I can maintain a hold on both the Drift and Crinan.’

  Lachlan turned to Cathryn. She said nothing and Lachlan, ever averse to silence at court, spoke again.

  ‘It was your counsel that persuaded us that, having defeated the Devised, we must withdraw our armies.’ He gripped the arms of the throne and his knuckles whitened. ‘Did you not argue that our armies could not be sustained here? Yet, in truth, you believe you could maintain a presence.’ He stopped short of the outright accusation forming in his mind.