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

I caught Treeve’s expression as the men set the chair down next to Tallack. His scowl would not ease. I cannot fathom that young man at all. His manner is too forward, his arrogance irks all the men and elders in camp, and yet his devotion to my nephew is astounding.

Senara swooped down with a bundled sheepskin to cushion the seat. With her customary lazy grin, Endelyn lowered herself into position next to her intended. There was no way she would give way to a Duro bride. She had every intention of becoming the Ruvane, no matter the cost. That was evident to all as she sat there surveying the grounds before her.

We all waited for the men to finish preparing the site, but there was simply not enough room. The new homesteaders’ shelters sprawled right across the former training grounds. Even with our defences moved back, the space could not accommodate the bouts for eight men at once. The Head Hunters were all for demolishing the huts, the Sea Warriors tried to bring about a compromise and the homesteaders squabbled over their new homes. Tempers were more than frayed and looked set to spill over into an all-out battle within the tribe.

I looked to Tallack to take control, display his status and power by acting swift and decisively. The whole point of the exercise was for Tallack to regain the men’s respect. With the situation balancing on the edge, Tallack sat frozen in his tall chair.

CHAPTER TEN

Kitto smirked as the Head Hunters pushed and shoved the Sea Warriors. The Homesteaders set loose their wives to kick and punch at anyone nearing their huts, the men standing behind them with spears in hand ready to defend their homes. With the camp dogs nipping at everyone’s heels and barking incessantly, the noise was deafening. Still Tallack did nothing, sitting with a wide-eyed stare at his tribe as the bickering took a fearsome descent into chaos.

I watched as Kitto scanned across the sandy ground until his eyes met those of Tallack’s. This was precisely what the wily older warrior wanted; more opportunities to undermine the young Chief. I leaned forward from my bench and hissed at my nephew.

“Tallack, do something… anything!” By the time I’d gained my nephew’s attention, it was too late. One of the Head Hunters threw a punch at a Sea Warrior. Rather than knock him to the ground or rattle his wits it merely incensed the man. He pulled back his fist and slammed it into the jaw of the Hunter. Within moments, the anger of those jostling around them boiled over until our finest men were engaged in a vicious brawl. Knuckles and jaws collided, blood and spittle flew, until many were reduced to wrestling their opponent to the ground.

Senara fidgeted next to me, keen to wade into the fray. Even she was spoiling for a fight. All the pent-up aggression and posturing over a potential war with our neighbours had left our warriors restless. Kitto must have known that before he took the Head Hunters out to replenish our meat supplies. My poor nephew was out manoeuvred at every turn.

I tried to rouse him to action once again. “Tallack, please, you have to stop this before someone gets killed.” At first, I thought he’d not heard me. I stood up and followed my nephew’s line of sight as he watched a figure leaving the western gate and hurry across the trickling gravel beds of the stream. He looked to be in pain, his back hunched and his gait was ambling and cautious. When my old eyes focused on his face, I recognised him.

It was Ren. My breathing quickened in fear as he made his way towards the gaggle of fractious men. What I couldn’t see was what he clutched to his chest. I covered my mouth to stop myself from calling out. He was too weak to stand between the warriors; he’d be smashed to pieces by their superior strength. Even Tallack shook himself from his daze and stood up, preparing to protect his old friend.

My heart pounded in my ears, I was dizzy with fright but just when I was sure that Ren would put himself in harm’s way to stop the fighting, he stood on the periphery and lifted a horn to his lips. With a single blow, the shrill noise halted all action at once. The men looked up from their squabble and saw the battered old sailor staring at them all.

“Call yourself Dumnonii? You should be ashamed of yourselves. These homesteaders are our people. Are we not one proud tribe?” He went red in the face with the effort of yelling at them. Most of the men immediately let go of their wrestling partners and hung their heads, staring at their feet. Kitto folded his arms across his chest in defiance. Ren was not finished. As weak and sinewy as he was, he still commanded great respect. He turned to face Kitto.

“And you of all people should know better.” The two men locked stares, neither backing down. “You who expects to be promoted to clan leadership, yet allows the men to succumb to their childish ways.” There was a lengthy silence in which neither shifted their scowls. I thought Ren had more to say, but he remained quiet, allowing his age and standing in the community to bear down on the great warrior. Eventually, Kitto dropped his gaze to the ground. Only then did Ren spin about to address the men.

“Enough of this pettiness. Settle your differences and accept that these are troubling times. We pull together as one tribe. That’s the way it is and will always be.”

It was Tallack who led the foot stamping and rapping on wood in support of the crewman’s speech. As much as I applaud Ren’s mastery over troubled waters, it did little to assuage the