The Red And Savage Tongue (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) (30 page)

     Behind the last horse
, Egbert walked, his hands bound by a long, leather cord tied to Erec’s saddle pommel.

     The crowd’s initial joy upon seeing Ceola turned to hostility at the sight of Egbert.

     Anna screamed as she saw Brinley’s body draped over Flint’s horse. She ran to her husband and embraced his cold corpse.

     Flint’s
eyes were downcast, unable to meet Anna’s. His voice was barely above a murmur as Anna sobbed beside him. ‘I’m so sorry. We found him dead. Dragged off the track, Egbert murdered him.’

     Withred strode purposefully to Egbert and cut the cord securing him to Erec’s horse.

     He glanced at Erec and nodded his thanks before dragging Egbert towards the hut with the pit. He looked towards Augustus and his brothers as he walked. ‘Get spears. Leave them against the side of the hut,’ he said.

    
‘Intended to sell a child for wicked sport did you!’ he raged, as he pushed Egbert into the hut, then kicked him into the pit.

     Egbert landed in a heap and looked up at him from the gloom, his yellowing eyes glinting with hate.
‘Why not heron-shanks? Gold is gold and it would have got me away from this stinking isle.’

     Withred sneered at him, his rage gathering.     ‘Look beneath you Egbert, y
ou lie on straw. No warrior’s death for you. No meeting with Woden. You’ll die a straw death like an old crone on her straw pallet.’

     Egbert
grabbed a handful of straw and held it up to Withred. ‘Better this than a traitor, eh?’

     Withred smiled pityingly at Egbert
. ‘Oh, you sorrowful wretch,’ he uttered as he left the hut, ‘…you disgusting, sorrowful wretch.’

    
Outside, he looked at the spears, then at Murdoc. ‘You did well managing not to slay him,’ he said. ‘Thank you for bringing him back alive. Justice can now be delivered by those he’s wronged.’

     Augustus picked up three of the spears and threw two of them to his brothers. He looked to Murdoc.

     Drained by the ordeal of the previous day and night, Murdoc, who held Ceola, pondered what to do. He had waited for this day for so long, but, strangely, had no desire now to slay Egbert. Augustus and the others could finish him. At least Ceola would not think him yet another murderer like the ones who had killed her mother. He spoke with Martha, and then looked to Augustus. ‘He raped and killed my wife, and his riding companions killed the rest of my family, and this child saw much of it. That hut is soon to be a place of death, so I intend to walk back to the village now with my girl—she’s seen enough killing for one lifetime. Martha feels the same. Just get rid of him; finish him now. He’s lived far too long.’

     Aug
ustus nodded and looked at Anna and James’ wife, Sarah, who were weeping and hugging in mutual consolation. ‘You’ve also suffered greatly at the hands of this man,’ he said. ‘Your two husbands and a son lie dead because of him.’

     Anna looked into Sarah’s eyes. Sarah fought to control her emotions, her face contorting with the effort. Eventually she shook her head.

     Anna turned stricken to Augustus. ‘As Murdoc said, he must die for what he’s done, but we’ve no desire to look upon him ever again, or hear him spit his poison before he dies.’

    Tomas walked up to Augustus and held his hand out for a spear. ‘He treated me like a dog, now he’ll die like one.’

     Withred joined Tomas and took a spear from Augustus.

     Dominic, one side of his face now sporting a yellow-black bruise, put his arms around Anna and Sarah and led them from the hut back to the main village. The rest followed, sad but resolute.

     Augustus picked up his own spear. He looked at the others; his bearded face a dour mask; his pale blue eyes, chips of granite. He nodded. They entered the hut.

After Egbert’s demise, Dominic and Will had embraced and briefly reminisced over their time in the legions. When turning their attention to the struggle in the woods, Will had nodded sagely when Dominic had told him how Tomas had skilfully sniped from the lookout mound, saving his life after Osric had knocked him to the ground.
‘A young hawk he seems,’ said Will, smiling as he took in Dominic’s wolf hat. ‘I think a feathered hat would be more apt for young Tomas, rather than the fur one he now wears in homage to his hero. You are the wolf Dominic and he the little hawk—the Merlin.’

     Tomas kept his hat, but the name stuck, and when Dominic presented him with the new composite bow, he presented it to ‘Merlin’ rather than Tomas.

    After hearing the tale of the fight at the village and the skirmish in the forest, the Arthurians had realised the calibre of the fighting men who stood before them. They knew that such men would be valuable additions to the guardians who defended their southwestern realm.

     As they looked at the devastation around them, and realised the likelihood that more Saxons would follow in the wake of Osric’s party, it had not taken Murdoc and the others long to accept Gherwan invitation to relocate to Brythonfort. That
all
the village survivors would go to Brythonfort was beyond question.

Tomas gasped as Brythonfort came into view. Its earthwork buttress, encircled by a huge drystone wall, towered above the surrounding landscape of strip fields. Smiling as he witnessed Tomas’ wonderment, Gherwan who rode at the front with Will, turned in his saddle to see the same expression mirrored in every face.

     Murdoc held Ceola and pointed at the stronghold, while Martha rode
beside them, her face beaming. Dominic rode alongside Augustus, while his two brothers followed a distance behind, driving two of the ox carts that contained everything of use from the village. Simon, with Withred beside him, piloted another cart in which sat some of the children and old people who had come through the conflict. Some preferred to walk behind, and they made up the rest of the village survivors. Erec and Flint brought up the rear of the entourage.

One month after the battle at the ox carts, they entered the fort, where Arthur met them at the gates. An outrider had delivered a message from Gherwan and told him of the impending additions to his garrison.

    
‘Great God, I thought the fort imposing, but look at that man,’ said Simon to Withred. ‘It’s little wonder the people here feel safe under his stewardship.’

     Later in the great wooden hall atop the fort, a great feast took place around the huge circular tables therein. Here, the villagers learned they would remain in their family groups and be placed on established farms around the fort where labour was in short supply. Tasked with the building of the extra accommodation thus needed, were Robert and his team of artisans.

     Sarah and her remaining son would live with Brinley’s wife, Anna, within the compound. Here, they would work in the bakery that provided bread for the garrison.

     Simon would also live within the walls of Brythonfort. As an old man, he was not required to work, but after his introduction to Robert, he volunteered to lend his practical skills to the builders and maintenance workers on occasion.

     Dominic’s skill as a tracker and skirmisher was instantly recognised, and it was agreed he would train a group of scouts, along with Will and Murdoc. Tomas was to continue to work alongside them, building upon his already well-developed woodsman skills.

     Withred’s inside knowledge of Saxon combat tactics would be utilised in the academy, where he would assist in the training of recruits
, alongside Erec and the other instructors.

     Augustus and his brothers’ strength and fortitude would be refined until they had acquired the skills to ride as knights.

Later that evening Murdoc stood alone with Ceola on the stone battlements of Brythonfort. Before him, the sun rested like a golden coin on the horizon, sending its yellow glow over a scene of peace and
pristine, pastoral tranquility.

     Over a year had passed since he had stood overlooking the forest, cradling Ceola, with little hope that he would survive the coming days. He had looked upon the forest then as a malevolent entity that would accept him into its formidable maw then consume him without trace. He now knew that the forest was good. It had delivered him. There, he had met Dominic again, and like Dominic, he now loved the forest.
    

    
He looked again at the peaceful scene below, aware that menacing storm clouds were gathering. The struggle had only just begun. The future was uncertain and perilous. The Saxon hordes would one-day stand at the walls of Brythonfort, but for now, all was well. A rustling from behind caused him to turn.  Martha approached them. He kissed Ceola’s cheek. ‘Come my little dove,’ he said, ‘mother’s here.’

The End

The next novel in this series by F J Atkinson

is titled
‘Dominic’s Quest’
and will

be available for download from Autumn 2013