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

That was when the Sea Warriors stopped their cheers. They were puzzled. It was obvious that they thought she would become his second wife. Each of them was present at the crossing on the River Sid, when Chief Fane proposed that his daughter should bind with Tallack at the earliest opportunity. Having the priestess become their Ruvane was beyond imagining, despite the Sea Warriors being used to Tallack’s unconventional leadership style.

“I’m glad you all approve.” Tallack said. The rest of the noise from the elders died immediately, making it clear that they did not, in fact, approve. I caught Cryda smirking among the crowd. It was just as she had said. Endelyn was fine as their priestess, a second wife even, but not as their Ruvane. She simply didn’t have the right blood to make it a worthy match. She brought nothing to the tribe by way of increased alliances or trade partners, unlike the Duro girl.

The tense atmosphere continued as my nephew followed that shocking news with his choice of clan successor. “With my growing commitments in camp, I have appointed Massen as the new clan leader of the Sea Warriors.” The tribe were at least pleased with that, raising their voices and patting him on the back so heartily he almost lost his balance. It left Kitto scowling at the Chief. He anticipated the same reaction for his own elevation, expecting Tallack to name him as Blydh’s successor to the Head Hunters.

“I know my sailors well…” Tallack continued, ignoring several snorts of derision. “But only my brother knew the Hunters well enough to choose from among them. I have respect and admiration for you all, but to make it fair, I have devised a trial to select the worthiest.”

The Hunters had not predicted this turn of events. They shifted uneasily, moving apart from each other and the rest of the crowd as though a little competition would make them all sworn enemies.

“You will fight in friendly bouts until the victors are reduced to one. Poles and sticks only, no metal. When there is one clear winner, they must beat me in a single bout. If they can best me, they will become the next leader of the clan.” Tallack glanced at Endelyn and grinned. Was she already directing him?

Over the course of one night, he’d gone from fighting and killing Kitto with his mystical sword, to a wrestling match. It was less risky, but there was still nothing to stop Kitto from throttling the life out of our Chief, sharpening a pole into a spear or hiding a dagger until the last moment and plunging it into Tallack’s throat. He was far larger and stronger than Tallack would ever be. He might survive the trial, but he was more likely than ever to lose face in front of the entire tribe.

Our family’s reign would end on a whimper instead of a roaring, bellowing battle between two warriors. Not one person asked what would happen should the winner of the trials be defeated by Tallack; they all knew that Kitto would be the outright victor. How was it that everyone could see the obvious except my nephew?

I’d heard enough. There was no sense in his actions at all. As I turned to walk away, I noticed that Treeve did too. He disappeared behind the Long Hut and out of view before I could catch up with him. It always worries me when he goes quiet. That’s when I distrust him the most. He may look small and weak, but beneath the feeble exterior lies a wilful and bitter man.

I waited outside the shelter to try and catch Cryda on her way home. There was still a high probability of her son being killed by one of the strongest men in our tribe. I had to try and convince her to leave camp while she could. When the crowds dispersed, I craned my neck to see which route she would take across the compound. Before I could catch her, Endelyn bounded up to me, oozing charm and insincerity.

“Meliora…” I don’t know why it grated so much. She was entitled to use my given name. “Do you have any valerian root spare? I’m finding it hard to drift off to sleep.”

I spotted Cryda ducking behind the Long Hut, just as Treeve had done. “Take what you need, Endelyn. My apprentice will show you where I keep it.” I hurried away before she could stop me. The more time Cryda had to prepare, the better. Scurrying as fast as my old legs could carry me, I cut across her path on the opposite side of the Long Hut.

“Cryda. We must speak. It’s really important.”

She moved in a half-circle around me and carried on walking. “Must we? I’m shattered and my slave needs to go and wash more linens through for Delen. Her stomach is upset.”

I offered to examine the babe if she was willing to speak with me at the same time. When we got back to her hut, the slave was jogging the child in her arms trying to soothe her. Nothing seemed to work. When she saw Cryda, the girl offloaded Delen into her mother’s arms and dashed out with a basket of stinking cloths and mucky moss. It says a lot when a slave would rather wash infant kawgh from bindings than listen to the incessant wailing of a baby.

I checked her over. There was no extra heat to her skin, her cheeks were rosy and she had no rashes nor swellings. She was simply irritable from the dry heat of the summer and too many leaves in her food. After I’d declared her fit, Cryda loosened the pin on her tunic and presented a nipple to the child. It latched on like a barnacle, making her mother wince.

“Teeth coming through?”

Cryda nodded. I did all I