Smoke in the Wind (32 page)

Abruptly the column halted and was silent.

Someone must have seen Eadulf on his horse and given the order. He hoped that no one in the column of warriors was armed with a bow and would decide to use it before he came within shouting range. He guided his horse slowly down towards the waiting column.

‘Welcome, brothers!’ he called, halting about five yards away from the head of it. ‘What do you seek in this land?’

The column stood in silence and then a Saxon voice answered him.

‘Who are you who speaks our tongue?’

‘I am Eadulf of Seaxmund’s Ham in the land of the South Folk.’

‘A Christian?’ The voice was still suspicious.

‘I am.’

‘We are Hwicce!’ came the cold response.

Eadulf felt a coldness go through him. Here were the very people he had told Fidelma about. Saxons whose fighting prowess was legendary and who still clung to the old faith, worshipping Woden the Allfather, chief of the raven clan.

‘I have heard of the Hwicce.’ Eadulf managed a smile. ‘The Hwicce are renowned among all the kingdoms of the Saxons, Angles and Jutes. But the Hwicce I have heard of are brave and generous warriors who are courteous to strangers - even to Christian brothers in strange lands.’

There was a moment’s silence and someone muttered something and then there was a shout of laughter. Eadulf tried not to show his unease.

‘You have a way with words, Eadulf the Christian,’ came the voice. ‘Tell us what you are doing here.’

Eadulf decided to be sparing with the truth. ‘I am travelling with a companion to the kingdom of Kent, to Canterbury. A storm drove my ship ashore here a few days ago.’

‘And you, a Saxon, have encountered no animosity from these
Welisc
?’ demanded the voice in surprise.

‘I have encountered many expressions of dislike but I have survived. But they are Christian in this land and do not kill without good reason.’

‘Being Saxon is often considered reason enough. Doubtless, your Christian ways make these dogs spare you, Eadulf,’ the voice replied. ‘Tell me, do you know where the
Welisc
warriors are? Are we likely to be attacked?’

Eadulf thought quickly. Which would be more effective? The truth or some lie claiming that warriors were nearby? He felt it better to be truthful.

‘There are no warriors nearby, Hwicce. This is a land of peaceful shepherds and herders of cattle.’

‘Will you take an oath on that? Swear by the sword of Woden?’

Eadulf shook his head. ‘An oath on the sword of Woden would be meaningless to me. I will swear on the cross of my Christ, though.’

‘Good enough. Do you so swear?’

‘I do. There are no large bands of
Welisc
warriors within a morning’s ride of us. I swear this by the Holy Cross!’

The column of warriors broke up at a word of command. The shields came down and the phalanx dissolved and Eadulf came face to face with the person whom he had been addressing. The man set down his war shield and took off his helmet. To Eadulf’s surprise, the speaker was a blond-haired youth, certainly not far advanced into his twenties. He had a handsome face, highlighted by deepset eyes so grey as to be almost violet in colour. He was tall, muscular and looked like a man to whom the profession of warrior came naturally. Eadulf took an instant liking to his open, youthful features.

‘Well met in this land of the
Welisc
, Eadulf the Christian,’ the young man grinned. ‘I am the Eorl Osric, thane to Eanfrith, king of the Hwicce.’

Eadulf dismounted from his horse and took a few steps towards the eorl. ‘Then well met, Osric of the Hwicce.
Pax tecum!
’

Osric grinned again. ‘I have no Latin, Eadulf. Speak in good Saxon. I am not Christian. The gods of my forefathers are good enough for me.’

‘I was going to ask you for a
quid pro quo
, but as you speak no Latin, I shall translate. Something for something. I have told you there are no
Welisc
warriors here. Now you tell me something.’

Osric chuckled. ‘Were you a merchant before you joined this curious brotherhood of Christ, my friend?’

‘I was hereditary
gerefa
of my people,’ Eadulf assured him.

‘A lawgiver. I might have known,’ replied the young thane with a wry grimace. ‘Then we shall cease to bargain. What is it that you wish to know?’

‘What are you doing on this shore? Do you mean to harm the people living here?’

Osric pointed to the woods beyond. ‘We are here to cut down the tallest tree we can find.’

It was a totally unexpected reply and Eadulf’s face showed it.

Osric was still chuckling. ‘My
gerefa
friend,’ he said, ‘it is quite true. Our ship has been demasted and we managed to make it into a bay beyond that point.’ He waved a hand over his shoulder. ‘We need to get a new mast. But as this is the land of
Welisc
we came prepared to fight for it.’

‘And that was why you were shouting your war-cry?’

‘We thought that it might frighten people off long enough for our purpose.’

He turned and snapped an order which sent his men racing towards the nearby wood searching for a tall tree.

One of the men, obviously the chief carpenter, pointed to a tall, fairly thin oak. Two axemen came forward and set to work with a will, the smack of their metal blades into wood echoing across the landscape. They did not waste time. The work was done quickly and efficiently.

‘Was it your ship that was anchored down the coast some days ago?’ asked Eadulf.

Osric turned to him with an amused grin. ‘Another question? I thought your Latin merchant’s term was question for question?’

‘If you want to ask me questions, I’ll be happy to answer them,’ Eadulf offered, feeling suddenly comfortable with the young man. Hwicce or no, pagan or no, these were his own people and he felt at ease with them.

‘Well, you are right. We have been up and down this coast during this last week or so. We have been chasing a
Welisc
ship.’

‘Did you by any chance raid the
Welisc
religious community near here . . . to the south?’

Osric shook his head firmly. ‘We had better things to do.’

Eadulf was surprised by the answer. ‘You did not?’ he pressed.

‘Why do you ask? Do the
Welisc
claim that they were raided by us?’

‘Some do. A Saxon ship was observed moored in a cove in that direction some days ago.’ He indicated the position with his hand.

‘That was my ship, the
Wave-Breaker
,’ agreed Osric.

‘Not far from where you anchored, Osric, there was a religious community called Llanpadern. The Father Superior was hanged and the community were taken. Several of the brethren were found slain on the foreshore and some Hwicce weapons were found nearby.’

‘I was not responsible,’ insisted Osric.

Eadulf decided to be bolder. ‘There was also a body of a stranger found at the religious place.’

Osric’s eyes narrowed. ‘I have a feeling, my
gerefa
friend, that you are going to tell me that this body is significant.’

‘It was the body of an Hwicce.’

Osric regarded him with a serious expression. ‘Describe the body to me.’

Eadulf did so, and the young thane let out a long, low sigh. ‘It was the body of Thaec.’

‘Who is Thaec?’

‘One of my crew. The night that we anchored in the bay you have described, he went ashore with another man. They both spoke the language of these
Welisc
and offered to attempt to pick up some intelligence. Only one man, Saexbald, came back.’ Osric suddenly glanced around at his warriors. ‘Saexbald! Come here!’

A tall warrior detached himself from the group and came running forward.

‘Saexbald, tell the
gerefa
here what happened on the night you went ashore with Thaec.’

The warrior turned to Eadulf. ‘We had scouted along the shore when, without warning, a group of
Welisc
horsemen came on us. We fought but Thaec was swiftly overpowered, even though he did his best to get himself killed rather than be taken as captive. I was separated from him in the fight and forced to abandon him. I only just managed to get back to the safety of the ship.’

‘Thaec is dead,’ Osric told the man.

‘May he have met his death with sword in hand and the name of Woden on his lips,’ the warrior intoned.

‘Did you know who these
Welisc
were?’ asked Eadulf.

‘Warriors, no doubt. They fought well.’

‘Did you hear any names shouted by them during the encounter?’

‘Names? No. The only shouting I heard was . . . actually it was strange, come to think of it. One of the
Welisc
warriors seems to have been stung.’

‘Stung?’ queried Eadulf.

‘There was some shouting about a wasp.’

A slow smile of satisfaction spread over Eadulf’s face.

There was a resounding crash as the tree was felled. Almost immediately, the warriors started to strip the branches and the bark, using their powerful axes. Osric signalled the tall warrior, Saexbald, to return to his comrades.

‘Did they torture poor Thaec before he died?’ he asked.

‘He was not tortured. It seems that he was stabbed in the chest with a sword.’

Osric rubbed his chin thoughtfully. ‘Do you think he died fighting?’

‘I am sure of it. I also know that he sorely wounded his assailant.’

‘It would be good to tell his parents that their son died with sword in hand and the name of Woden on his lips, so that he could be gathered up into the Hall of Heroes where the immortals live.’

Eadulf looked disapproving. ‘I cannot subscribe to pagan beliefs.’

‘A man of principle,
gerefa
? Yes, I suppose you are. But did you see or hear anything which would contradict the story?’

‘Nothing. But why would he have been taken to the community and killed?’

‘Are you trying to tell me that the
Welisc
religious would not have killed him?’

‘They would not have harmed him unless in self-defence. It was the
Welisc
warriors who captured him who killed him.’

‘I know nothing of this religious community. We anchored in the bay because it was nightfall and we did not know these waters.’

‘Did you not make a search for your missing crewman at first light?’

‘We do not abandon our own unless we are forced to. You know that,
gerefa
. Of course a search was made at first light. From the shoreline we saw that a
Welisc
peasant had spotted us and, finding nothing, we reluctantly abandoned the search. It was madness to continue after we had been spotted, for we did not know how many enemy warriors were in the vicinity.’

‘Just a minute,’ Eadulf said. ‘You knew that there were some. What of the band of warriors who took your man Thaec? Why did they not attack you at dawn?’

Osric made a gesture with his hand as if dismissing them. ‘They had disappeared. Taken Thaec and vanished.’

‘So what did you do then?’

‘We put to sea again.’

‘That brings me to another question. What are you doing so far from your own country?’

There was a pause and the young thane examined Eadulf’s expression for a moment as if searching for something there.

‘I answer because I think I can trust you,
gerefa
. I believe that you are a man of principle. We are chasing a
Welisc
ship. Have you heard of a prince called Morgan ap Arthyrs? He is the king of Gwent, a territory which borders our kingdom.’

‘I know little of affairs in this part of the world,’ confessed Eadulf.

‘Well, this Morgan is an enemy worthy of our steel. He is cunning and ruthless. He has ruled Gwent for many years.’

‘Morgan?’ Eadulf tried to remember where he had heard the name recently.

‘We are chasing one of his ships. He raided on our side of the River Saeferne which marks our common border. We gave chase and a long chase it has been. But the ship has eluded us. Now we must return to our own land to prevent our families mourning the loss of more than Thaec and Wigar. Wigar was lost overboard in a storm: the same storm which snapped our mast.’

He indicated where his men had finished stripping and trimming the tall oak tree.

‘It’s not the best of times to cut a tree,’ he observed, glancing to the sky, ‘but we cannot choose our seasons. So long as it gets us home we shall be happy.’

Eadulf nodded absently. ‘I still do not entirely understand. Ships often raid and chases occur. That I comprehend. But you have chased this one many a mile. Why are you so dogged in the pursuit of the
Welisc
, Thane Osric?’

Osric frowned momentarily. ‘You ask a lot of questions, Eadulf the Christian.’

‘It is because I hate mysteries,’ Eadulf replied spiritedly.

‘I will answer you, then. During the raid the
Welisc
took several hostages. Among them was Aelfwynn, the ten-year-old daughter of King Eanfrith. That is why I have pursued this ship of Morgan’s so closely.’

One of Osric’s men came forwarded and saluted him. ‘We are ready, lord.’

‘That is good. Let us prepare.’

The man turned and barked an order. The trunk of the tree had been rolled onto the long axe handles of the warriors and now they bent and picked up their burden as easily as if it had been a light branch. At another sharp command, the warriors began to move as one, returning on the path in the direction they had come from.

‘You are welcome to continue your journey with us as far as the land of the Hwicce,’ Osric offered, then added, glancing slyly at him, ‘although I think you have other plans.’

‘That I have,’ agreed Eadulf. ‘I will ensure that Thaec has a Christian burial.’

Osric shook his head as he shouldered his shield and took up his war axe again. ‘That would dishonour him. No, let him lie where he is. Do not bother to find out how he died. His family will rest content that he now plays dice with the Immortals in the Hall of Heroes. Old men will sing of his courage around the fires in the evening. His memory will become immortal too. That will be more than poor Eanfrith will boast of lost little Aelfwynn. Alas, I can pursue the
Welisc
ship of Morgan no longer.’