Pagan Siege (Tribes of Britain Book 5), Sam Taw [beautiful books to read .TXT] 📗

When Vina and Kewri had bundled my things together, I checked on the patient one last time and made my excuses to leave. It was uncommonly warm and oppressive in the Long Hut, and I was of a mind to be alone. Vina went for a walk in the early evening sun while Kewri guarded the goats in their pen. I ate a couple of strips of the venison to tide me over but my appetite was lost. Everything tasted of ash.

By nightfall, most of the elders had returned to their homes, leaving those closest to the warrior to watch over him. I dragged a stool to the doorway of my house and watched the smoke thicken in the sky until it blotted out the twinkling light from the gods. It was marginally cooler for one, but I could also keep an eye out in case Ren returned with the Hunters.

A short time after the darkness was fully on us, Tallack’s men lit the torches along the boardwalk and in other strategic places about camp. He was not taking any chances with the new people and their thieving ways to use the night against us. Predictably, Endelyn’s hut was lit up like a midsummer festival. Her recent performance had attracted new believers into her clutches. Even the night time did not halt her blessings and offerings to the wooden gods outside her door.

It may have just been concern about Ren, or that Tallack appeared to be reluctant to deal with Kenver, but my unease and restlessness would not abate. I stayed up until long after dark, grinding and mixing pastes and potions with a sense that they would be needed in the coming moons. When most people had turned in for the night, and the priestess had exhausted the line of offerings and tributes, I saw Tallack strolling over to her hut. He carried with him a circle of twisted willow withies. After just a few moments, Senara and the pup exited. She did not look at all pleased to be put out of her latest home.

I didn’t need to guess what my nephew and the priestess were discussing. He’d already made up his mind and he was never one to wait patiently for the right moment to act. He would make his offer to bind with the priestess, presenting her with the eternal circle of life, woven in green stick wood and decorated with flowers. Neither did I need to know her answer, for the elated shrieking coming from within her hut said it all. She had accepted him and within a few moons, would govern by his side over us all. It was a dark night indeed. With hope fading in my heart, I went to my bunk and tried to sleep.

The news of Tallack’s proposal spread quicker than the heath fires. Women all across camp were buzzing with excitement. Endelyn set herself up outside her hut, receiving visitors and well-wishers, traders and kind hearted Sea Warriors paying their dues to the next Ruvane.

In the absence of my morning milky grains, I walked to the Long Hut to see the warrior and his family. As I anticipated, he did not live long. His father took my hands in his and fixed me with his watery stare to thank me for the short while they had with the patient during the night. There was no need to exchange words, for nothing I said could comfort him, nor his wife and daughter.

I knew they’d already given everything of value to the priestess in offering, but still he tried to pay me with his only blade. It was a tempting offer, given my need for such a fine knife, but they could ill afford the loss after all they had endured. Instead, I told him that the gods had guided me to help his family, and he needed to take care of them in the days ahead. That seemed to appease him, as many about camp believed I had the ear of Cernonnus through the rare white hart I’d befriended, just before my nephews had him sacrificed.

With hunger and grief so commonplace within our tribe, I thought Endelyn might have the decency to wait before making her preparations for the ceremony, but I was wrong. She spun about in a dream of opulence that made me nauseous. I was on my way back home when she saw me and glided across the cracked earth to my side.

“Isn’t it fabulous news, Meliora? I’m to be Ruvane. Did you hear? I thought I’d see you at first light this morning. Why didn’t you visit?”

So many questions, such an absence of decorum and sensitivity, I hardly knew which of them to address first. More irksome than those, was her use of my given name. Through respect for my position in the tribe, Endelyn had always called me as others do, Fur Benyn, or wise woman in our tongue. The very moment Tallack elevated her status so that she would become the next Ruvane, she declared herself my superior. I knew it would be so, but I thought she’d take longer to adjust to the change.

When I failed to answer her many questions, she thinned her eyes. Was that scorn I detected or something worse?

“Come and speak to the woman who will dye the cloth for the gown I’m having made. I want that luscious deep colour between purple and red that Tallack has on his ship. The dyers say it can’t be done, but they must be wrong. You’ll know what to use, surely?”

I did know and the dyers were right. The only reason such a colour existed on Tallack’s ship was because it had sailed all the way from the shores of Tyre on the other side of the world. “It isn’t possible to achieve that colour with any plant or rock from