In Two Minds

by K T Findlay

  ‘You need to send someone to the stables!’ cried Thomas. ‘There are six men there trying to steal the horses!’

  Wulfstan told Deena and Deana to help Marwig deal with his remaining man, while he ran off towards the smithies, where he could see Rowena and Berthilda finishing off two more.

  ‘Come with me!’ he shouted as he ran past them. ‘We need to protect the horses!’

  The three ran around the corner to an awful sight. Scarlett lay motionless by the stable door, Fulton astride her, back to the wall, determinedly wielding a pitchfork, trying to keep six men at bay.

  ‘Gerrofoutofit!!’ he yelled in a voice quite different to normal. ‘Ye’ll not have her, or the horses ye evil mongrels!’

  ‘We’ll have whatever we want.’ said one of the men calmly. ‘and what we want right now is you, dead. So that’s what we’re going to have. Boys? Get him!’

  Just at that moment, Storm, Jade and Topaz came running down past the barn towards them, the moonlight glinting off their swords.

  ‘Drop your weapons!’ commanded Wulfstan.

  The leader spat onto the ground.

  ‘I don’t think so. Not on the orders of a little runt like you! You three take the women, Alcott, you take the peasant, Nash, you and I will take the brat and his trollops!’

  The six split up as directed, to face their respective foes, but at that very moment two horsemen burst past Wulfstan heading towards the stable door.

  Wulfstan gasped. There was nobody left to stop them stealing the horses!

  Then suddenly there was a high pitched cry.

  ‘Leave them alone you bad man!’

  Gundy!

  ‘Yeah! Get out here!’ came another child’s voice.

  Oscar!

  The two children stood bravely in the doorway, each holding a spear that was far too big for them, waving the points at the riders as best they could.

  The riders’ horses had shied to a halt at the sudden appearance of these strange little creatures, but now moved forward under the calm urgings of their riders, who were drawing their swords.

  ‘No!’ shouted Wulfstan. ‘Oscar, Gundy! Get away! Now!’

  The siblings ignored him, and stood their ground against the advancing horsemen.

  Then all hell broke loose as the six footmen launched themselves into the attack.

  Topaz, Storm and Jade caught the onslaught of axe, spear and scramseaxe on their shields. Jade’s opponent fell instantly with a thrust through his eye, but Storm’s managed to overwhelm her with his strength and speed, knocking her to the ground.

  The man then ignored her, spinning to launch another powerful attack on Jade. The fury of his axe blows forced her back a couple of paces before Storm’s sword swung low from behind, taking off his right leg at the knee.

  He screamed as he fell, until the tip of Jade’s sword smashed through his skull a few seconds later, silencing him forever.

  Topaz grinned at her own opponent. ‘That’s two nil little man. You’re all on your own now! Time to go!’

  The man snarled in fury. ‘I’m not running from a chit of a girl!’

  Jade laughed from behind him. ‘No. You’re running from three of them!’

  He looked over his shoulder, and realised he was surrounded. He flicked his spear around to protect himself, but it was hopeless. A spear might keep away two swords in front, but not three from all sides. Seconds later he too was dead, all three blades slamming into his body, one after the other.

  In the meantime, Nash had been despatched by Rowena, and Berthilda was withdrawing her blade from the leader’s temple.

  ‘I really think you should surrender.’ said Wulfstan calmly to the remaining Alcott and the two riders.

  The lead horseman quickly assessed the situation. ‘I didn’t come all this way for nothing. Let’s grab those kids and go!’ he ordered the other rider.

  They threw their mounts forward, and swung their blades down hard at the two children.

  ‘No!’ screamed Wulfstan.

  Gundy and Oscar’s spears were swept aside and smashed in two by the blows, then they themselves were scooped up onto the horses, and dumped in front of the riders, who then charged straight past the Prince, and onto the main path south.

  Alcott looked around him in dismay, waving his scramseaxe ineffectually, until Fulton plunged his pitchfork into his back so hard that the forks came out his chest. The man gave the most awful groan, and collapsed next to Scarlett.

  Berthilda ran past him into the stables, cut the tether of her horse Thunder, leapt aboard, and tore off into the night after the two horsemen.

  ‘Well that’s torn it.’ said Rowena, kneeling down to see to Scarlett.

  ‘She’ll be okay.’ Jade said. ‘She’s just stunned thank heavens. Good job Fulton.’

  ‘Yes. Thank you Fulton.’ said Wulfstan, shaking his hand vigorously. ‘I am more glad than ever that you came back to us!’

  Fulton blushed, and said nothing, because he didn’t know what to say.

  ✽✽✽

  Thomas streamed after Berthilda who was riding Thunder as hard as she could in pursuit of the two raiders. She rode as she normally did, with no equipment, using her weight, and pressures in her legs to tell the horse where to go.

  She could smell by the dust kicked up by her quarry’s hooves that she was slowly closing them down, and occasionally the light of the full moon allowed her to see them ahead of her through the woods and hedges. For twenty minutes they galloped on before the lead raider slowed them to a canter.

  ‘We should be clear by now Radley!’ he called back to his fellow. ‘And we’re almost at the meeting place! He won’t be pleased, but at least we’ve got something to sell for our troubles.’

  He looked down at the top of Gundy’s head and laughed.

  The thunder of their own horses’ hooves meant they never heard Berthilda galloping up behind. She held her sword arm almost straight, slightly bent at the elbow, and aimed for the left side of Radley’s neck. Straight and true, the blade plunged in just to the left of his spine, the edge cutting all the way out to the left of his neck, severing the jugular.

  Blood poured out of the wound, triggering panic in Oscar as it cascaded onto his head. Radley screamed, and yanked his horse off the path to the right, where a tree branch thwacked into the remnants of his throat, sweeping him to the ground, with Oscar still in his arms.

  Radley landed on his back, and Oscar landed on Radley, knocking out what little air was left in the man’s lungs. The boy sprang to his feet and raced to hide behind the tree, leaving Radley to die on his own.

  ‘Berthilda!’ cried the leader, who’d brought his mount to a halt.

  ‘Hello Ward.’ she said. ‘Is that what you’re reduced to now, stealing children for your master?’

  He shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Grimketil was going to give you to me as a present. Did you know that? Why did you have to be so foolish as to join that stupid little boy?’

  ‘Because that little boy is more of a man than any of you.’ she replied. ‘And so am I come to that!’

  ‘No you’re not.’ said Ward. ‘What you are now, is dead, either right this minute or when you meet Grimketil on the field of battle. Either way you’re dead.’

  ‘Ooh! Who’s a big boy then?’ she mocked.

  Ward swung himself off his horse and tied it to a branch, before picking Gundy up and placing her on the ground.

  ‘Now you listen to me girl.’ he said fiercely. ‘You stay right here, because if you don’t, I’ll cut you into tiny pieces once I’ve finished off your friend here! Understand?’

  Gundy nodded fearfully.

  ‘Good girl. Remember now!’

  Ward stood up to face Berthilda, who had likewise dismounted. He unsheathed his sword and swung it effortlessly in highly practiced moves, demonstrating a great degree of skill in the moonlight.

  ‘I’m looking forward to this you know. Not as much as I would have looked forward to our wedding nig
ht, but there we are. You’ve made your choice.’

  Berthilda said nothing at all. She just stood quietly, her sword visible by her side, the buckler hidden behind her back. Ward spotted the sword.

  ‘A new blade? It looks a bit puny to me, so thin, and only one edge to it. I suppose that’s appropriate, a half edged sword from a half arsed Prince.’ he laughed coarsely.

  Then he took up his stance and began to move towards her. With no shield to carry, he held his sword in a two handed grip, flicking rapidly from one attack position to another. Berthilda knew just how quick and strong he could be like this, and watched him carefully.

  Without warning, he swung an attack from his right to left at chest height, but it was a feint to position the sword for his real attack, flicking it back to thrust towards the right of her head.

  She caught it effortlessly on her own blade, then swung the edge of her buckler into the bridge of his nose.

  He reeled back in astonishment, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  ‘You cow! You’ll pay for that!’ he growled.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not.’ she said softly, shuffling her stance to adjust to his own.

  Ward’s blade flickered again, a savage cut slashing downwards at her left hip. She caught it between sword and buckler, deflecting its energy towards the ground.

  Ward backed off a little, looking at the miniature shield.

  ‘Interesting little toy he’s given you there. A tiny shield to go with a skinny sword, from a tiny brat. How sweet! Much good may it do you!’

  She laughed.

  ‘I once gave you something special, don’t you remember?’ she asked.

  ‘And what was that, pray tell?’

  ‘That fine beer Rowena and I gave you and Grimketil at the King’s feast the night we left you. Did you two ever figure out what was special about it?’

  ‘I remember it well, the finest beer I ever drank. I’m sorry I won’t have the opportunity to drink it again.’ he said nonchalantly. ‘But I can live with that.’

  ‘I can give you the recipe if you like.’ offered Berthilda.

  ‘That would be a most generous final gift. I’m almost sorry now that I have to kill you. Do tell.’

  And she did.

  He froze in astonishment, then swore at her loudly, his cursing rising in volume and nastiness as her laughter continued to echo in his ears, until his rage thrust him once more onto the attack.

  He moved in quickly, not making any specific moves, just flicking his sword from position to position, hoping to catch her out. Berthilda danced out of reach, catching each feint on buckler or sword until in his fury he left a tiny opening.

  Catching a thrust to her head on the buckler, she pushed his blade wide and stabbed her own at his face. He managed to flick his head to the side, but not quite quickly enough. There was a soft plopping sound as his left ear landed on the ground.

  ‘First blood…’ murmured Berthilda.

  Ward put his hand up to where his ear had been. The endorphins and adrenalin were flowing strongly, and he felt no pain, just a sense of loss.

  ‘It’s the last blood that matters!’ he snapped back.

  Meanwhile, Gundy had slipped quietly away, and would have screamed if Oscar hadn’t thought to clamp his hand over her mouth when he came up behind her.

  ‘Shush!’ he hissed. ‘It’s me. Oscar. Come this way, there’s some bushes by the stream here that we can hide in until Berthilda kills him.’

  ‘Clever kid.’ thought Thomas, floating above.

  Berthilda smiled sweetly at Ward behind her weapons.

  ‘Incidentally, you’ve lost your prize.’

  Ward glanced across to his horse. The girl had gone!

  ‘I’ll find her. I’ll have all the time in the world once I’ve dealt with you!’

  ‘Ah, but you saw she was brave enough to fend you off with a spear. What do you think she’ll do with that scramseaxe you had on your saddle?’

  Ward looked uncertainly back at his horse. The blade in question was stored on the other side of the horse where he couldn’t see it. Could the little monster have taken it?

  He was brought back to the here and now by a flash of light in his peripheral vision, and he blocked a sneaky thrust just in time, flicking it away and countering with a downwards slash to the head.

  Berthilda caught it on the buckler and cried out. ‘Now Gundy! Strike now!’

  Ward danced away to his left, spinning as he went, looking for the little girl with the blade, while trying to fend off Berthilda’s attacks. Spread too thin, he allowed her blade another bite, this time a deep cut to his right thigh.

  ‘Argh!’ he swore. ‘It’s sharp, I’ll give you that!’

  ‘Quick too!’ she laughed, as he limped away to give himself some space to recover.

  Ward knew he was in trouble now. He was losing a lot of blood, and beginning to get light headed. If he didn’t finish her soon, he’d had it. He positioned himself so that the moon was behind him, using its light to disguise his movements. Then, as Berthilda moved left to try to circle round him, he matched her, keeping his shadow between them.

  Seeing what he was up to, Berthilda kept moving left until he bounced up against a sapling with his sword arm. Momentarily distracted, he jerked himself free, but it was too late. Berthilda pushed his blade down with her buckler and ran her own straight through his chest.

  When she withdrew it, she knew she hadn’t hit his heart. He was still standing, and then he struck at her. It was hard and wild, and she blocked it easily, but got a hefty spatter of blood straight into her face as he coughed violently.

  ‘Oh! That’s not nice Ward!’ she complained, dancing away. ‘It’s too late to want to be blood brothers you know. You should have asked earlier! We could have toasted that with a beer!’

  Ward looked terrible. The blood streaming from where his ear should have been, was as nothing compared to the river flowing from his thigh, and his mouth, chin and neck were covered with the burbling, foaming mess that was sliming its way from his lungs up past his lips.

  He lurched towards her, clumsily swinging his sword, but she didn’t even bother to block it. She just turned and walked away.

  ‘Have a nice afterlife!’ she called back over her shoulder. She didn’t stop walking until she heard the thump of his body as he finally collapsed.

  ‘Hurrah.’ came two happy voices from the trees.

  ‘Gundy! Oscar! You’re alright!’ she called back. ‘Wonderful!’

  The children ran out from their hiding place and threw themselves around her in the biggest hug they could give.

  ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you for saving us!’ sobbed Gundy.

  Berthilda held them tightly in her arms.

  ‘That’s what friends do for each other, just the way you tried to save Thunder and the others.’ she said.

  She became aware of a horse and rider watching them from atop a small hill on the other side of the stream. The man was wearing a very distinctive helmet.

  ‘Grimketil!’ she spat.

  ‘Where?’ gasped Oscar, looking fearfully around.

  ‘Up there.’ she said pointing. The man stayed on the hill just long enough for the children to see him, before he rode down the other side and away.

  ‘Are these bad men his?’ asked Gundy.

  ‘Yes. They’re his.’ Berthilda answered. ‘In fact, this one was supposed to be my husband.’ she said, nudging Ward’s body with her foot.

  ‘What are we going to do with them now?’ asked Oscar.

  16 Marwig’s education

  Back at the manor, they were counting the cost.

  Thomas had lost a total of four villagers, the newly married couples on either side of Sighard and Lynette’s hut on the south eastern corner of the village. The men had heard the raiders, poked their heads out to look, and been killed on the spot, followed by their wives. Only the raiders’ intent on silence during the initial stages of the attack had saved Sighard’s family f
rom being wiped out too.

  On the western side, the raiders had had the misfortune to encounter Hengist and Kelsey who were taking advantage of being on guard together to have a quiet chat about old times. Two of the raiders were despatched even before they were aware they’d been spotted, two more in the immediate confusion after that, and the final two after a hard fight where teamwork between old friends made all the difference.

  Marwig was distressed to discover that both his other men had been killed, as well as his own companion. They’d been taking their turn on guard and been surprised by an attack from within the village boundaries. Although they’d fought bravely, killing four of the raiders, they’d been cut down from behind by the two riders as they galloped into the village.

  ‘I have paid a heavy price for my accommodation.’ he sighed. ‘They were good men.’

  ‘I am so sorry this happened while you were our guest Marwig.’ apologised Wulfstan. ‘We’ve not had a raid before now, not according to Hengist anyway.’

  Marwig looked sadly into the flames of the fire that was boiling the water for the wounded. Wulfstan was insistent that it be well boiled before any wound was washed. Thomas’s lessons had plunged home on that point.

  ‘What was that clear liquid you had people splash onto their wounds?’ he asked. ‘It hurts like hell!’

  Wulfstan passed on exactly what Thomas had told him.

  ‘It’s like very, very strong beer, and it cleans wounds. We’ve had far fewer infections since we started doing it.’

  They were interrupted by a frantic Lynette.

  ‘Has anyone seen Gundy and Oscar?’ she cried.

  Wulfstan took her hands firmly in his own.

  ‘I’m sorry Lynette. Somehow they got into the middle of the fight, and stood in the stable door with spears trying to hold off the raiders. Incredibly brave. They even ordered the raiders to go away! Astonishing really.’

  ‘Unfortunately the raiders grabbed them and bolted on horseback. Berthilda has gone after them, and we don’t know any more than that for the moment.’