In The Grip Of Old Winter (22 page)

The outlaw strode into the
bracken and Peter ran to catch up. “Do you - do you know the charred branch at
- Eorl Oswald’s manor? It’s in the trees.”

“No.”

Peter’s legs felt wet where
the snow melted through his trousers. “It’s the way I came here. My dad hurt
himself and had to be taken to hospital - I really want to know that he’s all
right - but there’s so many knights.” He stopped walking. “I don’t know what to
do.”

Wulfwyn faced him. “You wish
to run away?”

“Well - no.” His cheeks
burned. Why did he feel embarrassed? It must be right that he cared about his
dad. “I should have told you before, but I didn’t want to be left alone again.”
He rubbed the seal-amulet between his finger and thumb. “It’s just that - I
want to help Leonor too - but can we try and get back to Oswald’s manor as
well?”

Wulfwyn gazed at him long and
hard and Peter feared that he might be angry, but when he spoke, his words
flowed with gentle and measured consideration. “You speak of strange affairs
whose meanings I do not know. I see fear and sadness in your eyes and
understand that it is from your heart that I hear.” He crouched so that his
face came level with Peter’s. “I cannot guide your actions, yet - consider that
you are here. This is a time of need, when much of what the peoples of this
land once knew and understood is broken. We are subject to a sudden and violent
change that will wither many spirits.” His brow furrowed. “I have not told you
that Leonor and I are to be blessed in union. It is both our wishes and Eorl
Oswald’s desire. Together we will keep the old ways that our fathers and
forefathers held dear, though we mouth our allegiance to the Norman King.” He
glanced away and sighed. “Without Leonor, that hope is lost and Eorl Oswald’s
treason will mean his death.” He gazed back at Peter. “It is strange that you
are here. I do not understand its meaning, yet my heart beats faster that all
that I thought blown away like dust in the wind, might yet be saved.”

Peter sniffed. “You are going
to marry Leonor?”

Wulfwyn gave a slow nod.
“Blessed in union, yes.”

“Then the flame,” Peter
remembered. “The flame that I saw in the trees when I looked out of my bedroom
window during the night - that was you?”

Wulfwyn’s frown deepened and
his eyes glinted, hard as steel and then he said, “I have come to Eorl Oswald’s
every night to reassure them both that their lands are true and their people
loyal and to prove to Leonor that my heart is strong.”

He doesn’t know that I saw
him in my time and, of course. he doesn’t understand.
“But...” Peter began.
Leonor’s a ghost - she
jumped from the tower because she didn’t want to marry Eorl Bosa - that means
that in my time Wulfwyn’s ghost haunts the woods too, because he was killed or
died or perhaps his heart broke because he couldn’t be with Leonor? In this
time - the old time, Leonor lives and so Wulfwyn still has hope.

Everything came back to the
seal-amulet and his and its ability to change events so that what happened
centuries ago might never have existed and Time weaved a new and different history.

It made his head spin and to
attempt to explain that to Wulfwyn turned his brain to mush. He swallowed. “I
didn’t know.” He turned the seal-amulet round and round so that the chain
twisted and tightened around his neck. “Of course I want to help you. But - if
we rescue Leonor, can we try and get back to Oswald’s afterwards?”

Wulfwyn nodded. “I pledge
that help to you.” He patted Peter’s shoulder. “I did not expect to find a
friend in one so - different. Maybe the gods sent you. I had no hope and now I
have a little. If this is a sleep-dream, then it is a balm from which I never
wish to wake. For it gives me courage.”

Peter smiled. “I don’t think
it’s a dream. I feel better now. I just needed to tell you about dad. And
anyway, the time moves at different speeds between here and granddad’s, so
Farmer Brunt and his tractor might still be outside the house... though I slept
through the night in this time, so I don’t know.”

Wulfwyn’s eyes narrowed and
Peter knew that his words didn’t make any sense. He held the chain up and
released the seal-amulet and the disc spun as the chain unwound. “It doesn’t
matter.”

The outlaw stood and glanced
around. “Come. We are easy to see when we stop beyond the trees.” He set off
through the bracken and Peter ran after until the oaks and the forest shadows
dimmed the daylight and Wulfwyn slowed their pace.

They walked in silence for a
long time. The curtains of moss that looped from tree to tree, drifted in the
breeze when they passed. Brown leaves, dried by age and frost, crunched underfoot.
Roots coiled and looped where they burst from the ground and stretched across
their way before they burrowed out of sight again. Some grew so thick that
Peter needed to jump over them. At night, without a light, such roots might
tangle and trip unwary feet.

He didn’t know their
direction, for no shaft of sunlight shone to show if they walked east, west,
north or south and they followed no sure path. After a while, all the trees and
all the moss curtains looked the same. “We’re not going round in circles are
we?” he asked.

Wulfwyn’s mouth twitched into
what might have been a smile. “We are making a wide arc to clear the ridge.
Then our approach to Eorl Bosa’s will be from the front. There is a track where
the forest is cleared for his knights to ride to another common way that lies
beyond the trees.”

“I saw that from the ridge,
but won’t it be watched?”

Wulfwyn glanced down at him.
“Not so much, for it is well used. It is into the trees at the sides and the
back of his manor that his guards peer, for a careful thief might creep through
their shadows and never be seen.”

Like the spae-wife, Peter
thought. Where is she? The seal-amulet stayed dull and without any sign of the
silver marks. He worried about the barghest and the carrier more, for they
might be anywhere, hiding, watching, waiting to strike. He stared left and
right, fearful that he might spot some sudden movement or hear a growl as deep
as thunder.

Wulfwyn halted and Peter
gasped as they almost collided.

“We must tread with care.”
The outlaw spoke just above a whisper. “Keep low and stay as still as death if
you hear or see anything. Before us lies the cleared way to Bosa’s manor.”

Ahead, the daylight
brightened, still grey, though a lighter shade. Wulfwyn drew his knife and
stepped behind the nearest tree. Peter stayed close and waited until the outlaw
reached the next tree before he crept across. The cleared way came into view; a
wide avenue swept clear of snow. The hard-packed soil might be as smooth as the
surface of a road in his time.

When they reached the edge of
the tree line, Wulfwyn pointed to the right and they darted and crept from tree
to tree with the cleared way to their left. Peter guessed they were headed
towards the manor, though he saw no sign of it.

A sudden horn blast rang out
sharp and bright and it echoed backwards and forwards through the forest. Wulfwyn
and Peter dropped to the ground at the same time. The outlaw’s eyes widened and
Peter held his breath.

***

The horn sounded for a second
time. Wulfwyn rose onto his haunches and glanced left and right.

Up ahead, where the manor
must be, Peter heard men shout. Their urgent tone might be fear or brusque
commands. The seal-amulet glowed deep red and the silver marks shone bright.

The horn blew again. Three
short blasts and the sharp notes echoed far away.

Wulfwyn dropped to his knees.
“A call to arms. The manor is attacked. I do not see the foes. Stay down.”

The seal-amulet trembled in
Peter’s fingers and burned crimson. The silver marks revolved and each one
revealed its shape with a clear definition. The trembling sensation increased.
Why? It spread into his hands and up through his arms and even into the ground.
He gripped the chain, ready to tear the seal-amulet from his neck and fling it
far out of reach. If it exploded, then he and Wulfwyn didn’t stand a chance.

The outlaw gripped his
shoulder and pushed him down. Peter’s cheek scraped the earth.

Wulfwyn’s breathing came in
quick gasps. “Stay low and make no sound.”

The earth shook and Peter
wriggled free. “I think the seal-amulet’s going to...”

The outlaw’s hand slammed
into his back and Peter’s head reeled as all the air burst out of his lungs.
His head thundered and as his senses returned, the thundering increased, even
the air, when he opened his eyes, shimmered.

Wulfwyn whispered. “Knights.”

Peter closed his fingers
around the seal-amulet and its heat warmed his hand.

Hoof beats hammered closer
and he heard the
jangle
of harness and the
clink
of armour and
the
snort
of horses as they gulped for air. The ground might be made of floorboards
it bounced so hard.

Wulfwyn’s voice rasped in his
ear. “Knights called to assist the Eorl and his manor.”

Against us?
Had a guard spotted their approach through the trees?
They’d die if they made a run for it, but if they stayed here they’d soon be
found. He slid the seal-amulet from under his body. The red burned bright as
fire and the silver marks flared. He shifted onto his side to face the cleared
way.

His view, impaired by the
brown twigs of leafless bushes and the trees thick trunks, gave him just a glimpse
of the knights as they galloped past. At least a dozen, with spears levelled
and shields held close to their chests. They stared straight ahead, unaware
that he and Wulfwyn hid so close.

The knights galloped out of
sight and an image of a wall, its top smashed by a thunderbolt of fire, flashed
into Peter’s mind. He snatched up the seal-amulet. A silver mark, identical to
the one he’d imagined, hovered in the seal-amulet’s centre. He didn’t move or
clench his hand or even think about what he saw, but a retort, like cannon fire,
blasted out loud and clear from the direction of the manor.

Men screamed and horses too
and he heard the
crunch
and
crash
as armoured men hit the ground.

Wulfwyn grabbed his shoulder
and hoisted him onto his feet. “Run.” The outlaw sprinted away from the cleared
way and Peter stumbled after as fast as possible. He held the seal-amulet with
one hand and when he had a chance, he glanced down. The mark in the
seal-amulet’s centre faded. The others revolved across the crimson surface.

What just happened? I
didn’t do anything. I saw the mark, but I didn’t command it to work. I didn’t
make a sign.

His chest hurt as he ran. How
far to safety? He let go of the seal-amulet and it bounced against his anorak.
He needed all his concentration to run.

Wulfwyn cried out and skidded
to a halt, his knife drawn. Peter swerved to avoid him as a man leapt out from
behind a bush, his sword raised, ready to strike. Peter whirled to the left,
lost his balance and hit the ground with a crash that knocked all the breath
out of his body. He tried to stand, to roll onto his side, to hide. Danger
threatened, he must escape, but winded and unable to draw breath, he flopped
onto his stomach. His limbs turned weak as jelly and he imagined that when he
moved, they wobbled.

Voices boomed above his head
and he curled into a ball. He tried hard not to think of the sword’s sharp edge
as it flashed through the air and sliced through his neck. He curled tighter
and whimpered and a black cloud descended over his mind and he heard nothing
but silence and all thoughts diminished and blurred and then the cloud broke
and cleared.

Wulfwyn’s voice. “I am not
his prey. He is no more than a boy. Put up your sword, Godwine.”

A second, deeper voice that
Peter thought familiar, though the more he tried to remember where he had heard
it before, the more his memory failed.

“I wonder at his apparel, for
he is strange to look upon and bears no features that mark him out as either
friend or foe.”

Wulfwyn spoke again. “It is
curious, my Eorl and to be wondered at, yet he bears a token that makes iron
useless as river mud and can dismiss an enemy with no more care than a fly
flicked away with a finger and thumb.”

My Eorl?
Peter’s stomach clenched. Eorl Bosa? He felt sick.
Had Wulfwyn tricked him, pretended to help, but all the while lured him to
Bosa’s manor and... what, to imprison him? Force him to use the seal-amulet
against his will? Like Almina wanted? Doubt gnawed at these thoughts. If
Wulfwyn meant to betray him, why did they hide from the knights on the cleared
way? He wished his head didn’t fill up with fuzz-like cotton wool that made it
difficult to think. He didn’t want to believe that Wulfwyn’s honesty might be
in doubt.

Wulfwyn’s voice came closer.
“I will have him show you when he awakes.”

The deep voice said, “Is he
hurt? He breathes, yet does not stir.”

“He fell at the sight of
Godwine,” Wulfwyn said. “His face might kill a rabbit at twenty paces.”