The Red And Savage Tongue (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) (9 page)

     As they strode away, Murdoc feared their plan could falter. The raiders possibly could find the young ones, but he considered the alternative of dragging them at speed through the forest, chancing that they may be spotted or
injured, far more risky. Far better that he travelled lightly and swiftly with a skilled tracker like Dominic. He looked back at the two figures, holding hands beside the huge beech tree: one, a ragged, adolescent boy; the other a blonde-haired, bare-footed child. How small and vulnerable they looked to him, in the vastness of the forest. 

As Dominic had predicted, the raiders found the Roman marching track. Simon and Martha, who had their hands bound, then found the going easier as they stumbled along, tethered by their necks. Although some shrubs dotted the track, much of the passageway was clear of vegetation, and Simon guessed that browsers of the forest such as deer were responsible for keeping the track passable. At that moment, he envied the simple life of the deer, but above all, he coveted their freedom. He looked back at Martha, hoping that the trauma of the past two nights had not broken her spirit. On both nights, a tall, hard-looking man, who emanated an air of authority, had stopped the brutal leader of the barbarians—the man they called, Egbert— from defiling Martha. Simon felt that as long as this man was around they had a slim chance of survival. The man had already saved his life. Why … Simon had no idea, but he feared they would feel the full vengeance of the leader should the man leave the group.    

     As dusk neared, they grew weary, having had few rest stops that day. Even during these infrequent stops, they had been required to prepare food for the men, which fortunately for Simon had been to Egbert’s liking.

     Egbert had remained near the front of the riders all day, and his continuous barrage of orders had filled the forest air with its grating persistence. He had not spoken to Martha or Simon, but as evening fell, he stole a furtive look at Withred, who continued to ride at the front. Satisfied that the tall warrior was distracted, he galloped back down the line to Martha and Simon.

     He looked down at Martha
; his shaggy beard splitting to reveal a rotten-toothed leer. ‘You look tired wife. I drive you too hard, I fear.’

     Martha looked aw
ay, refusing to acknowledge him—grateful that she could not understand his guttural tone.

     Reaching down, he grabbed a handful of her hair, forcing her to turn towards his baleful gaze. His tone became lo
w and menacing. ‘I don’t allow my women such insolence. When I speak, you will listen, so listen to me now. I can see the day has tired you, just as it has tired me, so I hope you’ll not be too disappointed to spend the night alone. But do not pine for me; the night’s rest will restore my strength for some fucking amongst the leaves in the morning.’

     He laughed
coarsely, placing his hand on his genitalia to aid in his translation. With a tug that left Martha’s hair in his hands, he released her and then knocked her to the ground with a fleshy swipe of his hand. He looked at Simon, who seethed as he helped Martha to her feet. ‘You’ll prepare food as soon as we stop, corpse. Maybe I’ll allow you a little longer tethered to my beautiful wife … who knows, maybe your cooking will allow you to live another day.’

     Martha wept at the pain inflicted upon her by Egbert, and Simon took her bound hands in his as Egbert rode back to the front of the group.
‘I don’t know much of what he just said, but I feel he may have been making excuses for being prevented from lying with you. Tomorrow may bring hope – try to survive, please.’

     That night Martha
found to her relief that Simon had guessed right, but her sleep was feverish and broken as she laid in apprehension of Egbert’s attention. Her fears proved groundless and the next morning, far from implementing his promise of the day before, Egbert seemed edgy and eager for an early start.

     He walked over to Martha and kicked her softly in the back.
‘Up! Up! You and the old one prepare to refresh the men and ready the mounts.’ He pointed towards the ponies in emphasis.

It was mid-morning when they came upon Dominic’s permanent camp. Simon could see at once by its spruce nature and compacted earthen floor, that this was no long-abandoned site. Two huge empty frames, used to hang dry, salted meat, were propped against the south facing outcrop, which overlooked the clearing. Whoever lived here ate well, as the charred rib cage of a boar, left near a ring of cooking stones in the centre of the clearing, testified.

     A one-storey, stone hut had been recently repaired, and a wooden lean-
to erected to its side. The good condition of the buildings, indicating recent use, caused the war party to act with extreme caution. Three men approached the rough wooden door, which was ajar, and as one of the men kicked it fully open, the two other men ran in, war axes raised and ready.

     They emerged a minute later and one of them, a tall Gedriht named Wlensing, shouted,
‘It’s clear! Whichever hermit skulks here must have fled when he heard our approach. A cellar lies below and looks to have provisions stored within it. It seems that we’ve found a store for Osric’s weapons cache.’

     Egbert strode to the hut’s entrance and
looked inside. ‘This hermit lives in relative comfort.’ He pulled the animal skins back from the bed. ‘I haven’t slept in such a bed for many months now. It seems we’ve found the abode of the wildman who killed Cerdic and our other brothers. We need to be extra nimble on our toes from now on.’

     Withred
walked over and looked into the hut. ‘Yes, fat belly. We must post guards while we’re here.’ He strode into the hut and fell back on the soft bed, winking at Egbert. ‘Meanwhile I’ll bow to your recommendation and test the bed myself tonight. Besides, your bulk would merely destroy it.’ Withred reclined, his arms behind his head, smiling happily at the glowering Egbert.

     Egbert’s face twitched
with suppressed indignation, aware that the men were in earshot.  ‘Phaa!’ He spat. “Have the bed if you must. The bracken is a perfect nest for a lanky shit like you, so maybe you can lay us some tasty eggs for breakfast.’

     Withred laughed. ‘What? … A fat, lumbering
walrus on a diet of eggs, whatever is the world coming to?’

     Egbert cut short the ripple of laughter from the men when he turned towards them, his face dark. He pushed three of them to the edge of the clearing.
‘Let’s see how a night on watch duty suits you, you laughing bastards.’ He grabbed Simon, shoved him into the hut, and then pointed to the cellar entrance. ‘Find us food corpse. If it’s not the best feast I’ve ever eaten I’ll burn you alive and use your fat as candle wax!’

Dominic and Murdoc watched as the war party entered the camp. They had arrived the night before and slipped quietly into cover when hearing the noisy approach of the riders.

     Concealed behind a moss-covered boulder, well away from the edge of the clearing, they were ready to fade deeper into the forest if the sentries got too close.

     ‘I know that man,’ whispered Murdoc coldly. ‘The fat one who gives the orders.’

     Dominic looked at the man, then at Murdoc, and was concerned at the change that had come
over him. He clutched his spear tightly, so that his knuckles stood out like ivory balls, whilst his jaws clenched under the taut skin of his cheeks.

     He placed his hand on Murdoc’s arm and said calmly,
‘Hold your rage Mur, now’s not the right time to act on it. What chance will the children have if we die here?’

     Dominic’s words seemed to have little effect upon Murdoc, who continued to stare at Egbert.
‘I saw that man butcher my wife and take much pleasure in it. The others too, I recognise. The tall one stood guard over the few things of value in the village, whilst the others amused themselves on violating the women … young and old.  But the fat one, he
delights
in it.’

    
‘There’ll be time enough to kill him later,’ said Dominic, ‘and don’t forget that we now have an advantage over them—
we
know where
they
are. We need to stay here until we know where they head for. Then we can make further plans.’

    
‘See,’ said Murdoc, pointing to Martha who had just walked into the clearing. ‘That must be the woman Tomas spoke of. She’s still alive then … and look, an old man is with her. Another one of ours by the look of it.’    

    
Dominic nodded and looked up into the darkening sky. ‘Night’s not far off. We need to get further into cover. We’ll take turns on watch.’

Next morning the two men were alert early, observing the activity in the camp. Most of the men had slept around the fire, which still released a hint of curling, grey smoke that lingered in the windless atmosphere of the clearing.

     The three sentries that Egbert had dispatched to the edge of the settlement, sat around the
perimeter of the clearing—their spears between their knees. They had struggled to keep awake—their heads often nodding to their chests in sporadic bouts of brief sleep.    

    
Dominic and Murdoc watched as the large, bulky figure of Egbert struggled to his feet from a position next to the fire. A smaller figure lay unmoving and huddled next to where Egbert had been lying. Squinting into the brightness of the new day, he scratched his crotch as he yawned; then walked over to a slight figure some distance away, covered with a thin swathe of rough cloth. He kicked the figure into wakefulness.

     In the clearing Simon struggled to his feet, half winded, and squinted at his assailant in the insipid morning light. Egbert knocked him back down to the floor with a heavy back handed slap,
then dragged him roughly back up to his feet, and pointed at a frame of dry meat the men had brought up from the cellar the previous evening. ‘Prepare breakfast,’ he growled, ‘and get some water.’ He pointed at the stream and pushed Simon towards it, then turned to the sleeping men and started to rouse the camp as he moved amongst them shouting and kicking.

     Simon rubbed his tingling jaw and shakily began to prepare breakfast for the men. Martha, whose clothes were now torn, got to her feet.
Simon could see her dirt-smeared skin through the tattered splits in her dress as she stumbled towards him. He looked down as she joined him, not knowing what to say.

    
She looked sickened and glanced at Egbert as he continued to chivvy the men. ‘I’ll not spend another night with that man,’ she said shakily. ‘Last night, his strength returned when the tall man left to sleep in the hut.’ She shuddered and looked at Simon, her eyes haunted. ‘I’d rather burn in hell than endure that again—today will be my last.’

     Simon
, who was at a loss to console her, merely shook his head, looking wretched as he busied himself with his chores.

     After everyone had eaten, Egbert strode to the centre of the clearing.
‘I’ve given it a great deal of thought and decided that Woden has been kind to us in providing us with this place. If we’re to come back along here next year then we can stock the cellar here with the stuff we need. It’s what Osric wanted us to do, so we’ll split now into two groups. The first group of twenty-eight men led by me will continue along this track, deep into the forest. The remaining eight men under the leadership of Withred will wait here until we get back. The men left behind will establish the camp and hunt the woods hereabouts. These will prepare a large quantity of dried and salted meat for the raiders next year. That will ensure we’ve food as well as spare weapons.’

     There was a general murmuring amongst the men as they absorbed Egbert’s news. They quietened as Withred spoke.
‘Your plan seems sound enough to me, but I think you’d benefit from my experience, even my companionship along the way.’ He nodded towards Martha, ‘And maybe you’d travel quicker without distraction.’

     Egbert laughed at this.
‘What an absurd notion heron-shanks; exchange my nightly comfort for Osric’s spy, I think not . . . now no more of this nonsense, I prepare to leave now
with
the woman.’ He turned his back dismissively on Withred and grabbed Martha by the wrist before beckoning one of his men to bring him his pony.

    
‘Have it your way Egbert,’ shouted Withred, ‘but I can’t risk your distraction with the woman, so if she goes then I go.’    

    
Egbert stopped in his tracks and turned to Withred. ‘Risk my distraction with the woman,’ he repeated scornfully. ‘Don’t question my priorities; they are as Osric instructed, and the woman I consider my nightly reward.’

    
‘Yet, I’ll accompany you if you insist on taking her,’ said Withred evenly. ‘We need this thing done quickly to give Osric plenty of time to prepare. It doesn’t bode well for an early end to your little journey if you spend hours rutting with the woman in the forest litter.’

     Egbert looked at Martha and then at Withred, and a dawning smile slowly grew on his shaggy face.
‘Oh, now I see it heron, you want me to leave the woman here.
You
desire her. That’s what this is about.’