Warriors of Alavna Page 7

Chapter Nine

  Ursula was finding her already tentative grasp on the situation deteriorating further. She was very worried about Dan. She managed to get him to the campfire and even got him to take some dry biscuit stuff that the Combrogi produced. He would not touch the meat though. Ursula had been a little concerned about it too, until Macsen mentioned in passing that it was a rabbit that Rhodri had trapped in between keeping watch on Boar Skull and The Bear Sark. She ate it then, hungrily, and even gratefully. Dan would not. He looked at her with little recognition in his haunted eyes. He would not speak, but stroked Braveheart’s head continuously. It did not augur well.

  When she was not worrying about Dan she worried about her mother. She would think Ursula was dead. Her mother had seemed very fragile ever since her father had left. She was only now, after nearly three years, beginning to accept that he was not coming back. She loved Ursula and Ursula loved her with a fanaticism that was almost a burden. How would her mother cope without her? And what would poor Miss Smith feel like having lost two pupils in her care? Would she get the sack? She was surely too old to get another job.

  Ursula stayed by the fire next to Dan and bit her nails as the men around her made plans. No one demanded her help.

  There had been another row between Rhonwen and Macsen which seemed to end with Rhonwen promising to marry King Cadal, whoever he was, after she had helped Macsen in his mission to stir up trouble for the legion. There had been long discussions about who of the enslaved Combrogi in Deva could be relied upon to risk everything to buy Kai time to ready Craigwen. Caradoc spoke passionately that any of his tribe, the swarthy Silurians, would gladly die to see a Raven defeat. Unfortunately as far as anyone knew there were no Silurians in Deva. Kai wanted to ride to Deva himself and attempt to murder Suetonius in his bed, leaving Macsen to lead the party home to Craigwen. Macsen spent long hours persuading Kai that his courage would serve Macsen better in Craigwen and that Suetonius, as Raven Governor of the whole province, was not in Deva anyway but further south. Craigwen was much talked of. It only gradually dawned on Ursula that it was the name of Macsen’s fortress home in the north. Macsen was very sure that he was uniquely qualified to infiltrate the occupied territories and cause trouble. In the end no one challenged him and the talk turned to plans; how best to burn down Deva or start a slaves’ revolt to distract the legion from a march on Craigwen. None of it made any sense and, as none of it seemed likely to get Ursula home, she allowed all the talk to wash over her. She was distantly grateful for the imminent departure of Rhonwen, if not of Macsen. The visceral dislike she felt for her appeared to be mutual.

  The only time she roused herself from her shocked stupor was to prevent Kai tying the heads of the men Dan had killed to the bridle of his horse. Kai was upset. Apparently it denied Dan the honour due to him. It was clear that he believed that the taking of these heads was very important. He explained to Ursula that the shades of these Romans would serve Dan in the afterlife, and would help him in battle. To leave the heads with their bodies would risk their retribution in the afterlife, if not before. Ursula tried not to recoil. Respect for the religious beliefs of others had been inculcated in her from her earliest childhood. Privately she thought Kai was even more dangerously insane than Dan. He believed absolutely in the power of the ghosts of the dead. More than anything else she just wanted this whole horrible experience to stop. She wanted to go home. She was quite unequal to the task of expressing the depth of her revulsion when it came to carrying dead people’s heads around with her. She only just managed to convince Kai that it was not the custom in her country to behead the dead. He was more easily persuaded that Dan might very well start screaming again if he saw another Roman skull detached from a Roman legionary. Kai did not want Dan to start screaming again.

  Ursula rode her horse with all the grace of a bag of cement riding bareback. None of the Combrogi had saddles. Bright Killer was stowed behind her along with the sword Macsen had given her, which she was yet to use. The only good news was that her headache had lifted. It was only one discomfort less to worry about.

  Kai had hesitated to allow Ursula to ride next to Dan. He was obviously afraid that they might try and escape. It was only Ursula’s dull-voiced assertion that she knew of nowhere to escape to and the fact that Dan didn’t look like he could fight his way out of a paper bag at that moment that persuaded him. Dan’s irritating natural balance enabled him to keep his seat with apparent effortlessness. His face remained closed and grey, but his eyes did not seem as blank as they had before. She did not think that he looked so much mad as wounded. Braveheart walked at the horse’s side. He was not a lot shorter than Dan’s pony.

  When Dan finally spoke the shock combined with the numbness of her rear end was almost sufficient to knock her off her horse.

  ‘So, where are we then?’

  ‘Dan! Are you all right?’ She turned her head as far as she dared without upsetting her precarious stability. As far as she could see he was not frothing at the mouth or exhibiting signs of dramatic madness. His face, like his voice, was unexpectedly calm.

  ‘I suppose so. I’m sorry about the screaming. It was those heads. I … It made me realise what I’d done. It was so barbaric. It was like waking to a nightmare and realising you were some kind of monster. At home they will put me in prison. I won’t be able to look after Lizzie and she’ll grow up thinking I’m this violent psycho. What with my dad and everything … who will keep her safe? I couldn’t take it. I think I’m OK now, though.’

  There wasn’t a lot to say. It was not the moment to explain that she thought they would never go home, but Dan had a right to know.

  ‘Dan, I did find something out,’ she began, searching for a gentle way to tell him that they were lost in another world. ‘But it’s not good news. Rhonwen said… ’

  ‘Rhonwen – the woman. Did you fight with her? When I was lost in the … Well, when I was screaming. I knew I was screaming, right, but it wasn’t me. It was like I was somewhere else. I saw her coming towards me. She was holding her hands out as if to help me, but the look in her eyes … It was like she wanted to eat me or something. I know it sounds stupid. But you were there, and you had this huge shield and you held it in front of me and she couldn’t come any closer. She wanted to. She was very angry but you stopped her. And I heard you say really loudly, as if you were shouting inside my head, “Dan, be calm. I can’t keep them from killing you if Macsen gives the word.” Then I wasn’t in that place any more and I could stop screaming. I thought it was a dream but it was more real than that. It was as real as this, but different.’

  Ursula swayed on her pony. How did Dan know she had thought about a shield? Could her thoughts have turned back Rhonwen’s power? It did not seem likely, but then how likely was it that Rhonwen could have brought them through a mist into another world? Once again she was at a loss for words.

  ‘I don’t know what happened. I wanted to help you but I didn’t know how, or at least I didn’t think I did.’

  There was silence for a minute apart from the sounds of the other men, their horses and Braveheart’s even panting. Ursula tried to make sense of Dan’s experience, failed and decided it was the least of her worries. Maybe thoughts had more power here.

  ‘Dan, I don’t think we’re on earth any more. I mean we’re on a world that seems like it, but either we’ve gone back in time or we’re somewhere else. Rhonwen said she’d brought us through the Veil, you know that yellow mist, from another world. I don’t know but I think it’s true. This doesn’t seem like home. The air feels different and that illusion Rhonwen did with the dragon, it’s like a kind of magic and … ’

  Dan said nothing for a minute. Ursula stopped burbling and tried to watch him from the corner of her eye. What if Dan was not the only one who was intermittently mad around here?

  ‘Do you remember in year seven we did some stuff on Roman Britain with Mrs Enright?’ he said at last.

  ‘Yes. So? Did you hear what I said? We’re on
another world. Why are you asking about Mrs Enright?’

  ‘She talked about the Celts, they were the people the Romans invaded. They were wild and warlike and there was a Celtic queen, Boudicca, who fought the Romans and nearly won. They almost repelled the invasion but then the Romans got more troops or something and the Celtic tribes fought among themselves and gave the Romans an advantage. Mrs Enright said that the Romans talked about the Celts as if they were savages, but they were actually quite a developed culture – they had druids and great jewellery and stuff. Well, I think the Combrogi are ancient Celts. Now either we’re both mad, or we’ve got mixed up in some horrible re-enactment of history or we’ve gone back in time. If I believe I’m mad, I might just as well forget everything because nothing can make sense. So let’s forget that.’ He swallowed hard and his voice came out as little more than a whisper. He was not really half so confident that he wasn’t mad. ‘Those heads were real, Ursula, there was no trick. I really killed all those people. We’ve not seen a coke can or an electric light. I think we’ve gone back in time. I just don’t see how.’

  It seemed more credible when Dan said it. He was much more logical than she was. It didn’t quite explain the magic, of course, but it was possible that magic had once existed. After all, even their own time was full of the idea of magic if not its reality. The idea must have come from somewhere. Why not from a time when the magic was real?

  Her speculation was interrupted by a low growl from Braveheart. Kai, riding ahead of her, suddenly halted. Kai turned fluidly on his pony to whisper to her. ‘Shh, the hound’s heard something. Someone may be following us. Get off your horses quietly and get behind those rocks there.’ He pointed to some rocks at the side of the track.

  ‘Take your blades and be ready.’ He made some rapid hand signal in the air and the rest of the small band immediately began making preparations for a stand. Spears and swords and shields were only seconds away so it did not take long for the small convoy to be fully armed and ready. Dan hesitated to hold Bright Killer but took it, gingerly. Braveheart, still listening intently, wagged his tail. He liked a fight.

  Ursula moved stiffly to the cover of the rocks. ‘Please, not more death,’ she prayed.

  No one made a sound. A bird sang somewhere and insects buzzed, but the men and animals managed an almost preternatural quiet. Dan was sweating. She could smell him. They huddled together with Braveheart, behind the rock. He still wore his blood-stained shirt under one of the cloaks Macsen had given him. He looked and smelled like one of the winos that slept rough under the railway bridge at home. She was sure that she must reek too. She would have liked to have cleaned her teeth.

  Someone was coming. Kai signalled and the men readied themselves for ambush. Then Braveheart leaped to his feet and ran towards the approaching stranger. Dan made a dive to stop him but was too late. With a curse, Kai went after the war-hound, his sword ready. Dan was almost as quick.

  ‘No! Dan don’t!’ Dan was gone. The element of surprise already lost, the men emerged from the rocks to see Braveheart fling himself at the figure of a boy leading a large horse. There was a body on the horse. It had left a trail of blood that was as good as an arrow pointing to their whereabouts. Fury and fear flitted across Kai’s face. He feared that a spy had trailed them. His sword was raised. With one blow he could have separated the boy’s head from his shoulders. He’d had enough practice. Braveheart bared his teeth. The warning growl in his throat should have warned Kai that he was prepared to rip his throat out. Gwyn’s spear was aimed at Braveheart’s chest. Nobody moved.

  The boy could not have been much more than eight. He was dirty and ragged though probably no more so than Ursula herself. He carried a spear, which he gripped, ready to defend himself. The knowledge that he stood no chance was written all over his terrified face. Surely Kai could not kill a child? Dan was not about to find out. He flung himself between Kai and the boy. Bright Killer flashed.

  ‘Tell him I’ll kill him if he lays a hand on the boy.’

  Ursula scarcely needed to translate. Dan’s intention was clear enough. Kai took one step back to put himself out of the reach of the sword. Ursula noticed that it gleamed again. Dan must have cleaned it after the battle, she thought irrelevantly.

  ‘Who are you?’ Kai said. He did not lower his weapon, but he seemed disinclined to fight Dan. The boy looked too frightened to speak. Dan put a hand on his shoulder and the child flinched. Dan gave him an encouraging smile. Something of Dan’s confidence must have communicated itself to the boy. He relaxed fractionally.

  ‘I am Bryn ab Madoc of the Coritanii tribe. This is my father; he was killed when killing many Ravens who ambushed us. They came yesterday and killed Gwynfa, my sister, when Da and I were out. We were looking for Prince Macsen, who was my father’s friend. Giff knows me. He was my father’s war-hound. I thought he was dead too.’ Unshed tears shone in Bryn’s eyes but his voice was firm.

  Kai regarded him thoughtfully. Then Bryn noticed Bright Killer gleaming in Dan’s hand and shrunk away from him.

  ‘That’s my father’s sword!’

  ‘Dan. Where did you get the sword?’

  Ursula’s voice sounded harsh.

  ‘I told you. I found it in a shack in the wood. There was a dead girl outside with red hair.’ He paused as the still clear memory ambushed him again. He swallowed hard.

  ‘I took it, to defend myself in case the killers were still there. Braveheart found me there.’

  Ursula translated this. When she mentioned the red-haired girl the boy’s composure faltered. Kai made up his mind. He believed the boy. He was one of their own.

  ‘This man is worthy of your father’s sword, Bryn ab Madoc. He has killed many Ravens and avenged your sister’s death in rivers of blood. We will bury your father for you. You may travel with our protection if you wish it.’ The boy nodded, losing the battle to contain his tears. Dan, who had understood nothing of what had been said, understood all he needed to. He put his arm round the child who immediately got to his knees. The jumble of words that he mumbled was almost too fast for Ursula to follow. She shrugged at Dan’s inquiring glance.

  ‘He’s binding himself in a blood oath of allegiance to your man, The Bear Sark,’ explained Kai. ‘I suggest he accept it. If he is who he says he is, which I don’t doubt, he has no one left. There are almost no free Coritanii left. He has no tribe, no place. He will make an honourable – ’ he said a word that Ursula could only translate as meaning something like body servant or squire. ‘The boy believes that The Bear Sark saved his life when he protected him just now. The Bear Sark avenged his sister. Bryn will die for him.’

  Ursula did her best to convey this to Dan who looked predictably horrified. He nodded his assent to the boy’s oath with obvious discomfort.

  ‘Does Dan … I mean, The Bear Sark need to do anything else?’

  ‘Only death will break a blood oath. Bryn has sworn it. Nothing else needs to be done.’

  Great, thought Ursula, in two days Dan had acquired a sword, a dog, a servant and a reputation she suspected that many others had literally died for. All she’d acquired was a fine collection of bruises. If this was a new world, she and Dan seemed destined to keep to their old world’s status – golden boy and loser. Resentment took the edge off the realisation that Kai, whom she thought she liked, would have happily murdered an eight-year-old boy.

  Chapter Ten

  Ursula was surprised at the trouble Kai took to bury Bryn’s father with honour. She had thought that the Combrogi were inured to death. They seemed to cause it with grim regularity.

  The men helped lift the bloody body from the horse and carried it to a nearby stream. He must have died from his wounds just before he reached them because Gwyn said he was not yet cold, and the stiffness of death had not yet frozen his limbs. While Kai carefully washed the body, Caradoc disappeared to muddy the tracks the boy, Bryn, had left. The others dug a deep pit close to where the stream widened to form a small pool, near some t
rees. It was beautiful and still and Kai explained to Bryn that it would be sacred ground beloved of the gods, being close to both a grove and a pool, like the holy places of the druids. Kai dressed the corpse in the best clothes that could be found from the packs they carried with them. The dead man’s own clothes were burned. Kai pinned his own brooch to the fine, green woollen cloak they had found for him, while each of the men gave something of value to the dead man. Gwyn gave a spear, Prys his spare shield, Rhodri a ring and Caradoc a slender gold torque. Kai hinted that the dead man might need his sword, but Ursula did not even suggest that to Dan. Instead she offered the sword she had borrowed. Dan gave his watch. For some reason it no longer worked, but it had a silver metal strap and looked good.

  They laid their large oval shields on the ground and lashed the four together with thick rope to make a bier on which they laid the body. Gwyn, Rhodri, Prys and Caradoc acted as pallbearers. The boy helped the men to cover the body in earth while Kai sang of the dead man’s deeds in so far as he knew them, of his courage and his willingness to embrace death for his people. They buried the severed heads too, though they cast one or two as an offering into the pool. Ursula was deeply grateful to be rid of them. In the heat of the day the stench was becoming overpowering.

  Bryn was very happy about the burial, especially the heads, for the spirits of the dead Ravens would serve his father in the afterlife. His father had killed nearly as many men as there were heads, he was sure. His eyes glowed with bright pride to see his father so well accompanied into his new life. Braveheart howled once, when the first clod of earth landed on his master’s body, but afterwards seemed well content. He stayed close to both Dan and Bryn, which was not difficult as wherever Dan went, Bryn followed at his elbow. The men did not treat him as a child, nor did he behave much like one. He was grave and attentive. In this brutal world it seemed there was no opportunity for childhood.