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

Bentewyn, there wasn’t an Alchemist this side of the River Sid who didn’t know the craft well. Was Nectan deliberately delaying us so that he could get a message out to the island? If that was his aim, what purpose did it serve? Kenver’s youngest and sole surviving child would likely prevent our passage across the causeway given the chance. How he planned to achieve that, would decide our own actions.

Ren caught a fat goose from further inland, a couple of the warriors set about making fish traps and I collected firewood with Nectan. None of us were idle, barring Tallack, who sat brooding on the beach. When the fire was lit, I sat opposite, waiting for him to reveal his thoughts. Before the light failed entirely, we saw Massen’s crew sailing Kenver’s ship into the bay.

“That should be enough proof to the whelp that his father no longer holds sway over these lands.” Tallack said, leaning on his sword as he hoisted himself onto his feet. The causeway should be dry enough by now. Let’s hack off his head and be done with it.”

Senara peered up at me to intervene. It was as though we both had the same notion, but she was reluctant to speak out.

“Chief, if I may suggest an alternative course?” I was trading on the good will I’d accrued from killing Kenver, not sure how long his favour would last. Tallack flicked his head around and stabbed the end of his sword back into the sand. I took this to mean that he was prepared to listen, but his expression was grim and unforgiving.

“I know the boy well from my time with his family. Would it not be prudent to at least speak with him first? I can walk the causeway alone and tell him the news of his kin. If he will not yield, you can always run him through later.” All those around the fire kept their heads low, their mouths closed. Kenver’s son had seen too few summers to be tested as a warrior. He was no more than a child. From the looks on the warriors’ faces; none relished the task of slaughtering him or his mother.

“Fine, do it your way, if it pleases you, Aunt, but take Senara with you. If he cuts up rough, take him down as swiftly as you can.” Tallack gestured for one of his men to hand Senara his shield, while another was sent to prepare a torch for us to light our way.

Ren grabbed my arm before we set off. “Let me come too.”

I smiled and tapped his hand until he let go. “If he sees it’s just two women, he won’t feel threatened. Frightened boys lash out. Calm ones talk.”

Senara walked a step ahead of me, close enough to slip the shield across my body if we were met by raining arrows. In her right hand, she held the straps of her leather sling. My arm ached from holding the torch aloft over the pitted gravel path towards the island.

The Alchemists had erected defences at the far end of the causeway too; a tall wooden palisade blocked our way with a gate as high as ours back at the compound on the Exe. Every so often, Senara glanced backwards, as though she could sense movement behind us. It was probably the motion of the sea lapping the edges of the shingle.

There were no fires visible, nor torches to reveal their preparations. We had no idea whether their walls were lined with archers, or their children with slings. Nevertheless, we stepped closer until a squeaky voice called out.

“That’s close enough, state your business.” His voice cracked.

“Ho there!” I bellowed up to him. “Do you remember me?” I searched my memories for his name, but drew a blank. “I am Meliora, healer to the tribe. I stayed in your father’s hut over winter.”

“I remember you. Your kin poisoned our water, made everyone ill. Some of my friends died.”

It was not a good start. Tallack’s half-brother, Paega, was involved in that incident. No apology or explanation was likely to make any difference to this boy’s opinion of me. Taking care of foreign trades and the safety of the women and children was a huge responsibility for someone so young. I could hardly fault him for taking such a stance.

“That was unfortunate and out of our control.” I scuffed my feet in the shingle, ashamed at my family and all they had done. “Why don’t you open the gates so we can talk properly?”

“You must think me a fool, Fur Benyn. I’m fully aware of the warriors creeping about the rocks by the shore. You’d have me welcome and host those who murdered my brother and sister?”

I spun about, confused for a moment. Senara nodded to a rocky outcrop a short distance away. Ren and two of the Sea Warriors bobbed into view. They’d sneaked along the edges of the causeway behind us, keeping low and out of sight. Senara was aware of them the whole time. What keen eyes the boy had. I wasn’t about to tell him that I was the one who’d driven a blade into his father’s back.

“The conflict between our clans is over. We are united as one tribe once again. Open the gates and no one will be harmed. You have my word.” I glared at the men peering over the rocks. Tallack was among them.

“Tell those men that we have a great many archers trained on them right now and my father is on his way with more warriors.” Again, his voice broke half way through his threats.

Tallack came out from his hiding place, followed by a number of his men. “That’s about as much as I can take, Aunt Mel.” He clamped his hand on my shoulder, using his grip to move me backwards. “Your father is dead, boy. His rebellion failed. If you don’t open the gates, you, your mother, and all your friends will die too.”

I heard