The Red And Savage Tongue (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain)

by Atkinson, F J

  ‘Down here!’ he shouted, as he noticed a huge fallen tree amidst a knot of vegetation.

  The tree had left a deep hollow where its root system had occupied the ground. Dominic jumped in and laid Ceola on the leaf-strewn bottom of the hollow. Murdoc jumped in beside Dominic where they stood in the shoulder-high depression.

  Dominic shook his head. ‘No good, no good, we need cover.’

  He jumped from the hollow and struggled to drag a huge fallen bough back to their hiding place. Dominic joined him and together they managed to heft the branch over the hollow, completely covering and partially filling it.

  They forced their way back to the floor of the hollow where Ceola lay curled up amongst the tangle of branches. Murdoc gathered her into his arms as Dominic struggled to fit an arrow to his bow. Stippled daylight played upon their faces as they waited anxiously for the sounds of the hunt.

  Murdoc could see that the hard life of the forest had etched a few more lines on Dominic’s craggy face, but had not managed to remove the rugged determination from his eyes.

  Dominic caught his glance and smiled bleakly. ‘If we get out of this, I’ll help you and your girl get back to your folks. ‘I’ll make—’

  He stopped abruptly, the noise of a snorting pony causing them to freeze. Dominic silently instructed Murdoc and Ceola to lie flat, giving them a wide-eyed, urgent look to keep completely still! Ceola’s eyes were squeezed tight shut as a tear ran down her grimy face, creating a white tracery on her cheek.

  Their pursuers had split up and one of them now searched near the vicinity of the fallen tree. He was very close to them—so close they could hear his laboured breathing.

  Dominic rolled onto his side to see above, pulling back his bowstring, ready to defend their position. The bushes above him rustled, but a summoning shout from a distance away stopped the searcher abruptly. He drew away from the tree and mounted his pony.

  The relief was plain in the hollow, and after some minutes had passed without further noise, Dominic and Murdoc slowly sat up.

  ‘We stay here ‘til morning and hope they don’t come back,’ whispered Dominic. ‘Here is as safe as anywhere for now.’

  Murdoc could contain himself no longer and hugged Dominic, and whispered joyously, ‘Oh Dominic, well met, well met! And I thought you dead long ago.’

  Dominic shook his head—his expression dour. ‘No … these days safety lies in the forest not in the fields. I’ve seen what these bastards do, and I thank the Gods that I fled from village life when I did…‘ He stopped when noticing that Ceola was trembling and staring wide-eyed at his wolf hat. ‘The girl is shaking,’ he said. ‘It’s my hat, I think, that frightens her. Have no fear little one,’ he said gently, as he moved beside her. ‘The snarl has long since gone from its old snout, and now serves only to keep the sun and rain from my silly head.’ He pulled his face at Ceola causing her to smile and bury her face in Murdoc’s side.

  ‘Her name is Ceola and that’s the first time I’ve seen her smile since the raid,’ said Murdoc as he fondly stroked his daughter’s hair. ‘She’s my daughter and we were the only survivors from the village.’

  Dominic looked crestfallen. ‘Your wife and father?’

  Murdoc said nothing, merely looked down and shook his head.

  ‘Who are these people and why are they doing this?’ asked Dominic, suddenly angrily.

  ‘They are invaders from the mainland—Saxon folk and others who have always visited these shores,’ said Murdoc, as his own rage gathered. ‘Now the Romans have gone, they come in numbers, and are hungry for gold and land and slaves. They treat us like beasts, and delight in killing. Those they allow to live, they sell across the sea. Some say there are even slave markets on these shores now—in their town of Northwic on the east coast, I hear. Meggan and father were butchered before me, and I’ll avenge them—that I swear. I’ll repay the Saxons for what they’ve done.’

  Ceola had started to cry again, so Dominic took her from Murdoc and held her close. ‘Don’t worry my little love,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll take you and your father back to my home, deep in these woods, and there we’ll not be found by any of the bad men.’ Ceola slowly warmed to Dominic as he rocked her and soon stopped crying. After a few moments of silence, he handed her back to Murdoc and stood up to peer over the edge of the hollow. The woods were silent again. He sat down again. ‘What are your plans my friend?’

  Murdoc sighed. ‘I don’t know—other than to escape from this present nightmare and save Ceola. I’d like to reach some of our kinfolk and settle down again, but it looks like the world has changed forever. Rumours have it that the raiders own kin have started to farm the land near the eastern shore. First, the warriors plunder, and then their families settle the empty fields.’

  ‘Then you must come with me for now,’ said Dominic. ‘I’ve a permanent base by a track once used by the Romans in a deep part of the forest, and there is room there for us all. There, you’ll grow stronger, and can stay with me for the rest of your days if you wish.’

  Murdoc’s eyes moistened as he listened to Dominic’s selfless and kind offer. He wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his tunic and looked at Dominic. ‘Thank-you, he said. ‘I thought the world had gone bad for ever, but now I know that good men still exist.’ He was thoughtful for a while then asked. ‘You say your base is by an old track. Could this be one that runs westwards? The one I was looking for?’

  ‘Yes, the track is ancient and does run to the west,’ said Dominic, ‘although I found it the hard way. Why do you seek it?’

  ‘I thought it may be an easier way through the forest, away from the trouble,’ said Murdoc.

  ‘You’re right, it is an easier way through, but it’s pretty overgrown now. I travelled down it for three days westwards and still never found the end. If you want to go that way, you need to get strong again first. For now, though, we need to keep our eyes peeled. Tomorrow should be safe enough to take you back.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Egbert and a war band of thirty-eight men had ridden out of the village and onto a faint track that ran westwards into the forest. The string of extra ponies that Osric had provided brought up the rear of the group.

  They journeyed for the rest of the day through the forest on a track that was rough but distinct, making steady progress through the thinner tree cover of the forest edge.

  At dusk, the night fire burned beside a burbling stream. Tomas fed and watered the ponies, then prepared the evening meal with the help of one of the men.

  After they had eaten, Egbert addressed the men. ‘Well my lucky fellows, it seems there’s to be no rest for anyone who displeases Osric. But we’ll get this done fast, because I for one intend to spend the winter mounting whores in Camulodunum. I can also plan strategy in the taverns alongside our leader.’

  There was laughter from some of the men at Egbert’s obvious slight towards Osric. He now grew more serious. ‘So riders, it’s hard days on the ponies that lie ahead, with few stops and short commons.’ Tomas shivered with dread as Egbert adopted a mocking expression and now turned his stare upon him. ‘But please … no-one must upset the slave-boy. It seems that Osric has taken a shine to the lad. Maybe our leader’s wedding is nearer than expected.’

  There was more sniggering from the men as Egbert walked over to Tomas and cupped the boy’s grimy face in his podgy hand. He gave it a series of gentle slaps—his mocking tone mirroring his expression. ‘You must tell me young master how you’d prefer your ale. Mulled … maybe?’.’

  Tomas smiled uncomfortably at Egbert, and could see that his eyes didn’t mirror his affected mirth. He prepared himself for the inevitable blow that always followed any discourse with Egbert, but before it could happen, Withred removed Egbert’s hand from Tomas’s face.

  He pushed Egbert away, his tone angry. ‘Does nothing Osric say sink into your boar’s head, man! The boy is not to be harmed! If I find one bruise on him I’ll kick your balls to pulp, do you hear me!’


  Egbert’s face was a mask of disdain. ‘Do I hear the voice of Osric’s little puppy here?’ He pushed Tomas away. ‘There … does that satisfy you. The scamp will return in one piece after this trek, so worry not.’ He pointed a threatening finger at Withred, ‘And don’t tell me how I should have my sport.’

  There was a sneer in Withred’s smile as he coldly eyed Egbert. ‘Maybe I should tell you. For I’ve seen you have your sport and even by our standards it makes my flesh crawl.’

  Egbert walked to his sleeping place, wheezing as he lowered his bulk into position. ‘If you’ve no stomach for the hunt then fuck off back to your master.’

  Withred didn’t deign to reply, but instead laughed softly and incredulously before shaking his head and turning away.

  The next morning, Tomas had the ponies ready and waiting for an early start. Withred received his pony from him. ‘Come now lad,’ he said firmly, ‘try to keep up with us as we start moving—better that than annoy Egbert eh? You would do well to avoid his temper.’

  ‘I know that,’ said Tomas, ‘I’ve felt what he can do when he’s pissed off, or when he’s not pissed off for that matter.’

  Withred mounted his pony and looked down to Tomas. ‘That may be true, but just keep up with the pace.’ He heeled his pony, setting it to a trot into the misty morning.

  They had been travelling for three hours when they came upon the clearing. Here, bracken had colonised most of the area and offered little opportunity for the growth of other vegetation. The ponies had made slow but steady progress, and Egbert had fallen to the rear of the line of riders for the first time that morning, leaving a man named Cerdic at the front.

  Cerdic was one of the three who had chased Martha and Simon into the forest. The lambasting he had received from Osric, as well as the enforced journey into the deep woods, had left him in a dejected and morose mood, and he had spoken to few of his companions since leaving the village. As he looked ahead, a movement caught his eye, alerting him to a man dropping to the ground with a small girl. He was about to inform the others when Dominic’s arrow hit him in the hollow of his neck, causing him to fall backwards and dead over his pony. Withred, who was directly behind, almost trampled Cerdic’s body as it hit the ground.

  Egbert, seeing Cerdic fall, rode quickly to the front to see what was going on. The other men looked about the glade nervously, expecting to come under fire again. Egbert straightened after examining Cerdic, and urgently started to give out orders. ‘He’s dead, and killed by one man,’ he assessed, ‘otherwise there would’ve been more arrows. Withred take three men to search that corner of the lea, the rest of you come with me.’

  The men were about to start their search when a piercing howling froze them rigid. Looking over to the noise, they saw Dominic’s wolf head hat staring at them from behind a bank of bracken, sixty paces away.

  One of the men, a stringy warrior named Aelred, blanched at the sight. ‘Let’s get out of here,’ he quavered, ‘the wolf God would have us pay for our deeds.’

  Many of the men began to nod and murmur agreement as they gathered in a protective huddle. Again, the blood-curdling howl came, but this time the man showed himself to the group and released another arrow. Aelred fell, hit in the left cheek, the arrow emerging through the back of his head.

  Egbert looked down, astonished, at the dead man, and immediately began to chivvy and slap the men out of their torpor as he realised what was happening. ‘That’s no wolf God you fucking rat brains—it’s a fucking wild man. Get on your ponies and deal with him NOW!’ He turned to Tomas. ‘Bring my mount now you little shit, and quickly before I forget my pledge to Osric!’

  Egbert mounted, and galloped across the glade. He entered the thickets near to where they had seen Dominic. ‘See, there is his bolt hole. Dismount! The ponies will not go through the thorns so we must follow him on foot.’ He waved two of the men past him. ‘You two blockheads go ahead and hack a way through.’

  Left alone in the clearing, Tomas once again considered his chances of escaping. He had come close to a beating the previous night and knew it was a matter of time before the men vented their frustrations upon him. An unsuccessful pursuit of the wolf-man would almost certainly mean that a furious Egbert, regardless of Withred’s earlier warning, would hammer him.

  He finally made up his mind when he saw the man in the wolf’s head hat return to the glade and run over to the rock face that reared up on its eastern side. Two other figures emerged from the pile of bracken that lay at the foot of the cliff, and the wolf-man, after conversing hurriedly with them, picked up the girl and ran into the forest with the other man running behind.

  Knowing he had very little time to make up his mind, he decided to follow the departing figures and take his chance with them. If they were enemies of Egbert’s group, they stood a good chance of being friendly to him. The noise of the Barbarians in the wood as they shouted to each other finally spurred him into action. He ran into the forest following the small group, just as Egbert and some of the men entered the clearing. Quickly, he melted into the cover of the trees.

  He kept a respectful distance behind the others, not wishing to reveal himself in the heat of the pursuit, knowing that the people ahead would have no idea if he was friend or foe. After shadowing them for a short while, they abruptly stopped and he was compelled to hide behind a low shrub. He watched as they jumped into a hole beside a fallen tree.

  He was in a colony of beech that had little undergrowth. He looked frantically around, aware that there were few other places to hide if Egbert’s men were to come upon him now. His dismay deepened when he heard the sound of approaching riders—the noise sending him into a panic as he raced from tree to tree, cursing their scarcity in this part of the forest.

  The oncoming crescendo from the riders told him his capture was imminent and unavoidable. As he looked around him, close to panic, he saw that dead leaves filled one of the nearby hollows. Scrambling down into the depression, he was relieved to find that the leaf litter was at least an arms length in depth. He dragged a large scoop of leaves to one side, then jumped into the resulting hollow and roughly dragged the pile over him.

  His disappearance was barely in time as he heard the sound of voices alarmingly close to him. Only muffled snatches of conversation came through to him under the leaves, but he heard his name mentioned when Egbert called to the scattered members of his group to rally to him at once.

  To his horror, he realised they had broken off their search for the men and girl. They were now looking for him! He heard rustling around him as some of the men jumped into the hollow They knew he was under the leaves! Sensing that his discovery, by either wading feet or thrusting spear, was imminent, he prepared himself for capture. Again, a shouting came from above, and this time the volume was such that Tomas had no difficulty in understanding what was occurring.

  It was Egbert—his tone frenzied. He stood on the rim of the hollow, and pointed to the inner woods then looked towards the nearest man. ‘Eadmund, you stay here and find the boy, the rest of you come with me. Look who walks in the woods this day.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  After spending their first full night in the forest, Simon and Martha made good progress along the bank of the stream in the valley bottom. Simon seemed to be familiar with the surrounding woodland, but after a while, he stopped and sat on a rock beside the stream.

  Concerned, Martha sat beside him. She was very fond of the old man. He had been a respected and popular figure in their village, but she was aware that he had lived a long life and that he must now be feeling his age. ‘It’s a good idea not pushing it too fast,’ she said. ‘I keep forgetting that many years separate our ages.’

  Simon looked at Martha and paused, then laughed for the first time since the raid. ‘You’ve a fair tongue on you lass … but no, it’s not old age, but uncertainty that persuaded me to sit down—I just need to think. I thought I knew this part of the forest, but I’ve slept a good few nights sinc
e I was last here.’ After a while, he looked up, and then looked at the stream. He slapped his knees and stood up. ‘We can do no worse than follow the water,’ he said. ‘It must lead to the track eventually.’

  Their route beside the stream was overgrown, and in some places the vegetation was thick enough to force them to walk knee-high in the brown swirling water. By mid afternoon both of them had had enough and they sat down on a grassy bank by the streamside. They rested a while and drank from a clear brook that ran into the murky flow.

  After their rest, they continued in the same manner until they came to a natural clearing in the trees where the ground fell away and the stream took a tumbling route down the incline before them. It provided them with a panoramic view of the forest, and for the first time Martha was aware of its enormity. Away to her right was the direction they had come from, and she could see a definite end to the line of trees where the cleared, arable land lay. She judged that they were now three or four miles into the forest’s interior. The trees entirely covered the rest of the land before them.

  Turning to Simon, she was barely able to raise her voice above a whisper. ‘How are we supposed to get through that? There seems to be no end to it.’

  Simon pointed to a linear slash that ran through the trees. ‘See that line there—that’s how we’ll get through. It has to be the track we’ve been looking for. What we can see down there proves we were right to follow the water course.’

  They continued down the grassy hillside alongside the stream, grateful of the brief respite from the claustrophobic gloom of the forest. Suddenly, Martha clutched Simon’s forearm. Looking towards her, he saw that she stared into the distance. Ahead of them, the resuming tree line indicated that their easy going was about to end, but something else had alarmed Martha. Through a rare gap in the trees, half a mile away, the bright sunshine was reflecting off what could only be metal, and this meant only one thing: the helmets or chainmail of unknown men.