The Red And Savage Tongue (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) (20 page)

     This time an angry Murdoc overrode Withred’s reply. He placed a restraining hand on Withred’s arm and said icily.
‘I’ve more reason than most to hate the invaders, but this man has proved himself to me, and I’ll not hear a youth, barely weaned off his mother’s pap, disrupt this council with his prattling.’ He looked at the bristling youth and his tone was stern and measured. ‘When you’ve proven yourself against them, loud one, then I might, just
might
, listen to what you’ve to say. Until then it would be best if you open your mouth only when you have something useful to say.’

     Darga stood, knocking over his tankard and pointing at Murdoc.
‘You’ve—’

    
‘Enough Darga!’ Brinley slapped the table in frustration. ‘We’ve heard more than enough from you and it’s time to press on. Sit down now or I’ll have you thrown out of this meeting!’ Darga continued to glare at Murdoc, but as a menacing Dominic took to his feet, he reluctantly sat down.

     Brinley turned to Withred.
‘Now, how many riders can we expect to come against us?’

    
‘It depends on how many men Osric can cajole,’ said Withred, as he turned his glowering stare from Darga. ‘I’d guess his war band will number between forty and sixty men.’

     A renewed murmuring greeted Withred’s assertion. 

     The room quietened when Griswalda spoke. ‘I’m an old man, but still intend to fight, but even with me and some of the other old ones we can still only muster a small force—maybe thirty men. How are we to have any chance with so few?’ 

    
‘Craft often wins over force,’ said Dominic, who was still standing. He had removed his hat, as the room had warmed, revealing the sparse, grey stubble of his scalp. ‘With my expertise in the forest, and Withred’s tactical insight, we can defeat them, of that I’ve no doubt.’

     
‘What about the women and children … who will look after them?’ asked James fervently. ‘I’ve lost one son to these murderers; I’ve no wish to lose any more of my family.’

     Dominic’s nod towards Simon indicated that he had been expecting this question.
‘We’ve plans for those who are vulnerable. Simon is aware of this and he will fill you in on the details after this meeting. As for the expected fight, we hope to keep the loss of life low, which is why we’ll meet them on our terms—in the forest. Withred and I have discussed this in detail, and we both agree that this is our only chance against a larger group of men.’

    
‘But that will leave the village undefended,’ said James. ‘The village and all in it will be destroyed if we fail in the forest.’

     Withred spoke now. ‘We feel that leaving a number of men behind, including myself, would
be a last defence against them should they break through.’

     Augustus
—a stocky, barrel-chested man, with a confident air—questioned Withred’s strategy. ‘But if we are outnumbered surely it makes no sense to split our force up. I’ll fight to the death, make no mistake, but surely it makes sense to fight in numbers.’

    
‘I’ll try to explain how my knowledge helps here,’ said Withred, ‘so that our plan makes more sense. First, I’ll tell you how they fight.’ The room went quiet, the tension palpable. ‘They ride ponies but don’t fight from them. The steeds are for quick passage only. Once the warriors arrive at the conflict they fight on foot in open order. Their main weapon is the spear, which they thrust with and sometimes throw. Many also favour the ax. The biggest shame for them is to die outside battle. To die a
straw
death—a death at home on their pallet of straw. For this reason they fight fanatically, and it would be futile to meet them head on.’ His face was grim and resolute as he looked round the hall at the intent faces. ‘We’ll be destroyed if we fight them head on. Believe me in this.’ He paused as the gravity of his remarks sank in. ‘To kill at close quarters, they consider a great honour, and for this reason they seldom use the bow. Indeed few of them are skilled with it anyway. Some, although unpractised with it,
will
carry the bow however.  Dominic will speak more of this shortly.’

    
‘What about swords?’ asked Augustus. ‘You didn’t mention swords. We’ve few of them, and I hear they’re truly a formidable weapon in battle.’

    
‘Only the chieftain, Osric, and his few personal followers, the
Gedriht
who have sworn to die for him, have the wealth to own a sword. Even so, some Gedriht—Egbert for example—still favour the ax, so don’t worry about the sword.’    

     At Egbert’s name, an angry murmuring broke out around the room. Murdoc and Martha had told everyone of his wickedness, and it was now widely believed that he had killed James’ son, Eidon. Some of the men looked at Withred’s sword.

     ‘Yes I was a Gedriht, he said,’ sensing the gathering focus upon the weapon. ‘But I had no wish to follow the ways of the war band. My God, Nerthus, does not allow for the slaughter of undefended folk and neither do I.’ The room quietened as the focus of attention returned from the sword back to Withred. ‘Their main body is made up by younger men, the
Geoguth
, and few of these have the resources to own a sword.’

    
‘It’s good that you brought weapons,’ said Griswalda, ‘but we’ve not the skill to use them. Yes, you’ve started to train us, but we’ve no experience of combat and are fewer than they are. Would it not make more sense to flee from a foe that cannot be beaten? I hear that a great British chieftain lives in the west and sits at a table that has no head and no foot so that everyone is equal. The invaders, it’s said, are smashed like waves against granite when they come up against him.’

    
‘I know the man you speak of,’ said Dominic. ‘When I was in the employ of Rome it was said that a British warrior rode with them in another legion, as an outrider. This man advanced his position to become a great leader of a cavalry division. In thanks for his service, the Romans granted him land in the west where rumour has it he now has his base, heavily defended against attack. Arthur is his name, and maybe if we survive this we can consider seeking him out, but we don’t have the time now. To uproot a village that has meagre supplies would mean great sufferance and death along the way. Beside, who’s to say that Arthur would accept us? Maybe he already harbours more refugees than he can provide for. No … first we must rid ourselves of a force that would surely hunt us down anyway if we fled.’

    
‘But surely we’ll die if we stay here,’ said Griswalda. 

    
‘Surely, we
would
die if we fought them man-to-man, ax-to-ax, spear-to-spear,’ said Dominic. ‘That’s why we’ll meet them in the forest and engage them on our terms, many days before they reach the village.’

     He picked up a bow from under the table and notched an arrow, fully commanding the attention of all in the room. He took aim at a wooden beam at the far end of the longhouse, his power and gra
ce combining as the arrow was drawn and released to flash into the beam in an instant. There was sporadic applause as Dominic went to retrieve the arrow.

     He held the arrow for all to see.
‘This is how we’ll defeat them,’ he said. ‘Most of them don’t wear chainmail. Few can afford it. This is how we’ll kill them. We’ll sting them from distance my friends. With the
arrow
!’

     The gravity of Dominic’s proclamation again promoted silence in the room, and this was broken when Griswalda spoke again.
‘You’ve spent many years using the weapon to hunt. How can we expect to be as accurate as you, with so short a time to learn?’

     A murmuring of agreement filled the room.

     ‘Tomas,’ said Dominic. ‘Take my bow.’

     Tomas, who had been sitting quietly beside Murdoc, did as Dominic requested.

     ‘Aim at the same spot,’ said Dominic, pointing to the beam at the far end of the longhouse.

     Tomas aimed
—his thin arm shaking as he pulled the bow to maximum tension. The string sang on release, and the arrow’s flight was true as it pierced the beam, a hand’s width away from Dominic’s mark.

     Tomas blushed, as again, sporadic applause rippled around the room. He handed the bow back to Dominic.

     ‘Before this summer, this lad had never used a bow.’ said Dominic. ‘Now his aim is accurate, and he releases with power.’ He pointed to all the men sitting at the long table. ‘What I taught Tomas I can teach all of you. I can teach you enough to injure or kill men from distance.’ He held up the bow, and nodded towards a small man with knotty hands sitting at the bottom end of the table. ‘This bow was made here in this village. I’ve spoken to Gilbert there, and set him the task of using his woodcutting skills to make bows from yew; we found a grove a day’s walk from here, and there is no better wood for the bow. Some of the women have proven skilful at making arrows from the abundant hazel that flourishes around the village. Before the winter is out, we’ll have a wealth of bows
and
arrows, and we’ll have men skilled in their use.’

    
‘Meanwhile I’ll continue to show you how to use the spear and ax,’ said Withred, ‘although, as I said earlier, our last resort would be to fight them hand to hand.’

      Brinley turned now to Dominic.
‘Have you decided who will go with you into the forest?’

    
‘The nimble and fleet footed will go with me,’ said Dominic. He looked at Augustus, who had earlier impressed him with his calm determination. ‘Or maybe the nimble and stout,’ he added.

    
‘That probably counts me out,’ said Brinley. ‘Though, as the elder of the village, I feel that I should stay behind in case it all goes wrong.’

     Murdoc stood and walked with a slight limp alongside the table.
‘The fleet footed eh, Dominic.’ He looked towards Dominic, his expression determined. ‘If ever a reason was given for speedy recovery, then this is it. I’ve fought alongside you before in the woods, and even if it means hobbling to my death, I’ll fight beside you again.’

     Simon looked up from his tankard, which he had stared into while listening to the debate.
‘It seems that I don’t fall into any group,’ he mused.  ‘I’m neither fleet footed nor nimble. I’ve been given a task anyway’ He looked towards Withred and smiled. ‘But even if I were fleet of foot I would still wish to stay behind with Withred. If we can scare away an angry bear then we’ll surely terrify the raiders.’      

     Withred smiled at the recollection, but before he could respond, Darga, whose bravado had returned, said loudly,
‘I wish to fight the heathens as soon as possible, and if that means entering the forest then that’s what I’ll do. So come, let us decide now, while this meeting is ongoing. Who rides into the wilderness with Dominic?’

     Brinley sighed at Darga’s persistence.
‘These things can not be decided on a whim. We must make sure we find the right balance of who goes with
Dominic
and who stays with
Withred
.’  He looked at Dominic. ‘You are the expert woodsman. What are your thoughts on this?’  

    
‘If I may,’ said Dominic. ‘I’ve given the matter much consideration, and already had a good idea who would accompany me into the forest. I’ve revised that list, however, because this meeting has given me food for thought.’

     Brinley nodded solemnly.
‘Very well,’ he said, ‘maybe Darga will get his answer after all.’    

     
‘It’s my knowledge of the forest which led me to my decision,’ said Dominic. ‘I discussed the matter at length with Withred and we think we have the right balance.’ Looking at James, he said quietly. ‘No doubt you want revenge for your son, and for this reason, and also because I’ve great faith in you, I would like you to ride with me.’

     James nodded his thanks, and Dominic walked over to Augustus and put his hand on his shoulder. He laughed as he said,
‘I see here a man who is stouter than the Roman he was named after,
and
with a cold glint in his eye. A fearsom
e
foe if ever I saw one.’

     Augustus took his knife from his belt, the tendons on his thick arm rippling as he squeezed the hilt.
‘I take it I’m the
food for thought
,’ he said. ‘Thank-you, I’ll be glad to ride alongside my old friend James, and for Eidon I’ll whet this blade on Saxon bone, just as I do on the bones of cattle.’ He turned to three equally stout men who sat beside him. ‘I’d be very well supported with my brothers here, should you agree for them to ride with you as well.’    

    
‘Don’t forget that your knife skills must be used on live and cunning beasts,’ said Dominic. He looked at Augustus searchingly until his grave expression melted into a smile. ‘But yes… I would be happy to have you, brothers and all, ride alongside me into the forest.’

    
‘And me?’ said Darga impatiently, ‘Am I to ride alongside you also?’

     Dominic paused, lips pursed, apparently undecided.
He knew the youth was trouble. Leaving him in the village to train with Withred’s group would probably not be a good idea. He would be complaining and disruptive, that was for sure. Maybe the better course would be to take him into the forest, where he would do less damage. Finally, he said, ‘Yes, you can come as well. I think it’s time to see if you can match your words with actions. There’s no denying that your youthfulness and enthusiasm will be better put to use in a mobile force.’ He fixed Darga with a penetrating stare. ‘But you’ll listen to everything I’ve to say, and you’ll take on what I teach you. You’ll also learn to keep quiet.’