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

At nightfall, I indicated my intention to retire to our hut. I needed to sleep. Ren stood to follow me, leaving Kewri and Tallack at the fireside. As we walked away, I heard Kewri volunteer to take a double shift on guard duty. Bless that lad. He was feeling guilty at having missed the foray into the gorge.

In truth, I was looking forward to spending some time with Ren alone. I may be adept at holding in my emotions in times of crisis, but it doesn’t mean that I feel them less than others. My heart was heavy with sorrow.

Ren didn’t expect me to talk. The moment we were inside our hut, he unpinned the door skins, giving us our privacy, and surrounded me with his sinewy arms. I lay my head on his chest and sobbed. How many more young men would have to lay down their lives for our family? The sight of Treeve’s flayed body and pecked eyes wouldn’t leave me. Just when I was starting to understand the boy, to like him even, he was sent to his death writhing in agony, forever to walk the plains of the Underworld without his fingers or his manhood. What a wicked message to send to Tallack.

My thoughts flickered to Senara. She was still out there, watching the Alchemists just as Treeve had tried to do. This was not her home territory and as such, put her at a distinct disadvantage. Even a good scout would struggle to outwit Kenver and his devious clan.

My nephew’s reaction was even more puzzling. His initial anger which fuelled the charge towards the mines had faded already. Was he hiding his grief or was his partiality for the crewman not as strong as we’d all thought? Between him and his brother, Tallack was always the more sensitive and caring. Was that too just an act to win favour when the occasion suited? My misery and confusion fused inside my mind. Ren didn’t try to coax me from my tears. Instead, he led me over to the bunk and lay down at my side, all the while holding me close.

Neither of us slept much for a long time. When my tears subsided, and the sticky heat of the night over powered us, we undressed in the darkness. It’d been a long time since I’d been intimate with a man, but it was something you never forgot; the skin against skin, the ripple of pleasure tingling inside, the ecstasy of muting all the troubles in the world for just a short time. Without caring for what the morning might bring, I set my worries down and my emotions loose until I had nothing left to give.

Dawn broke early, reminding us all how close it was to midsummer. Endelyn and Cryda would be making their way to the stone circle on the moors for her binding ceremony any day now. They would have to wait until this whole mess was resolved, one way or another. I dressed, took a drink from the jug and washed in the river. The cool water was enough to revive my sense of duty.

Trudging across camp, I checked on the amputee warrior first, keen to see if my handiwork had been sufficient to save his life. When I walked into the crowded hut, the men thanked me for my efforts, and for the resin Tallack had left for them. The lad’s breathing was steady, his friends had bound his stump with care, and given him enough poppy juice to knock him back out, but he lived. That was one less thing to worry over.

My next call was to Kitto’s hut. Here I found one of his trusted warriors watching over him and Tallack standing by the door. Kitto was alive. His eyes followed me as I drew closer, but other than that, he did not move.

Tallack faced the worried man at Kitto’s side. “Can you leave us alone with him, just for a bit?” The Chief gestured for the Head Hunter to leave, holding the door drapes back to ease his path. Tallack lowered his voice. “What are Kitto’s chances for recovery, Aunt Mel?”

I gazed at my nephew, unable to ascertain his feelings on the subject. He’d become so tricky to read of late. “Difficult to say really. He might last a few days, maybe longer. From the smell of him, I’d say he’s lost control of everything from the shoulders down. He’s lucky he can still breathe.” As soon as I’d said it, I realised how cruel I was being. Kitto’s eyes widened, his breaths were ragged and fast. I should have waited to say those things when the great warrior could not hear.

Tallack nodded, and kicked his shoes against the dirty floor rushes. “I see.” His voice was quiet and authoritative. “I think you should go now, Aunt. I’ll sit with him for a while and then make an offering to the gods.”

I smiled, giving the Chief’s arm a little squeeze as I passed him. Hurrying outside, I let the door skins fall behind me. That’s when I heard the unmistakable sound of cracking bone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

It took all my will power not to run back inside the hut. I knew what Tallack had done, but I struggled to reconcile myself with his decision. Kitto looked set to live, but for how long and in what state was a mystery. I didn’t need confirmation of his death.

Had Tallack snapped his neck to rid himself of a rival, or to spare the great warrior the shame of living a life where others had to wipe his arse and feed him with a spoon? I told myself that it was no different to putting the lame horses out of their misery, but that was a lie. Kitto was no animal. Would he be assured a place in the Summerlands, or would his murder be considered a humiliating way to die? Only the gods knew