Wolfbane (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) (19 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY- EIGHT

After killing Bealdwine and his fellow scout, Dominic and Murdoc made sure there were no other outriders to worry them. Then, they headed back to Augustus and the others to prepare the camp for Osric’s arrival.

Back at the camp, the job of digging the pit had gone well. Once through the compacted crust of the ground, Augustus and his brawny siblings had made quick progress, as little effort was required to remove the loose, grainy humus below, and it was not long before the diggers disappeared from view with only their spades visible as they lifted them to throw out considerable showers of soil.

After finishing the excavation, they stood knee deep and naked in the stream as they sluiced their grime away. They joked and pranked as they washed—their strong fraternal bond clear for Darga and James to see and hear.

The oldest, Augustus was as a father to his brothers, and they had obediently done as he instructed during the excavation. Samuel, the youngest, looked at the mounds of soil beside the pit. He asked: ‘Shall we move the soil out of sight now, Gus?’

Rubbing himself dry with a piece of sackcloth, Augustus studied the pile. ‘It would have been better if we’d washed
after
moving the soil.’ He looked at his siblings who still languished in the stream. ‘Come on lads,’ he shouted, ‘you heard young Sam, let’s get moving!’ To emphasise his intention, he flicked his sackcloth at his brother’s bare buttocks, landing stinging blows upon them. Laughing and cursing him at the same time, they ran from the stream and were soon at work shifting the soil.

Two of the brothers, William and John, were twins, and seemed to have a deep understanding between them as they worked harmoniously together. They shovelled the soil onto a wide piece of deer hide, which the other two men dragged to the edge of the clearing where it was disposed of out of sight.

Darga sat on a stone near to the dead fire, hacking away at a wooden shaft. Beside him lay a number of completed spikes. He looked up as James approached carrying another five rough branches. He dropped them in a clattering heap and sat beside Darga to sharpen them.

‘Twenty or so should do it,’ said Darga morosely. ‘I just hope we get the chance to fight them toe to toe after this nonsense.’

‘Trust in Dominic,’ said James as he hacked at the stake with his ax. ‘Without him we
wouldn’t
have a chance against them.’

Darga stood and stretched, then threw a completed spike amongst the others. ‘That may be so,’ he yawned, ‘but I’ve yet to see the proof of it.’ He picked up an armful of spikes and walked to the pit.

At nightfall, the six stood around their work in an admiring circle. ‘See how those fangs snarl at us,’ said Augustus. ‘Let’s hope they pierce Saxon flesh soon.’

James shivered as he studied the booby trap
.
He looked down at the spikes, his eyes distant. ‘Good God!’ he murmured, ‘how things change. I never thought I’d be responsible for anything like this.’

The group nodded, mermerised by the spikes. Eventually, Sam dragged a hide cover over the pit, then scattered a thin layering of soil over it.

‘It doesn’t fool me,’ said Darga, ‘the soil’s too crumbly, not like the hard earth around it.’

Augustus rolled his eyes in supplication. ‘Gods, you’re too quick to complain, lad.’ He threw a shovel to Darga. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘Help us blend in the soil and stop your carping.’

Next day, Dominic and Murdoc returned. They looked with approval at the completed work as Augustus and his brothers beamed their undisguised pride.

‘You took an injury?’ asked Augustus, looking at the strip of cloth on Murdoc’s arm.

Dominic lifted the cloth. ‘Yes it seems that Mur’s collecting scars to show to his grandchildren.’ He peered at the crusty wound. ‘Lucky that he heals well—one leg and one arm now saved.’

Darga had remained unmoved by the arrival of the pair, but could not resist boasting, ‘You should see the spikes beneath—they would pierce the hide of an ox.’

‘Egbert’s hide will do for now,’ said James. ‘When do we leave, Dom?’

Looking down the track, Dominic pondered. ‘By my guess, we’re half a day ahead of them. It’d be wise to leave as soon as the ponies are packed and ready. I’ve further plans for them down the trail.’

‘Consider it done,’ said Augustus. ‘Come—William, John, Sam—we’ve work to do!’

Murdoc smiled at the enthusiasm of the four men. He went to help them. ‘It seems we’ll have no rest until this is done,’ he said. ‘What I’d give to plough fields and plant barley again.’

Dominic smiled as he walked over to the hut and shut the door and window in preparation for their departure.

After leaving camp, they travelled hard. Two uneventful days got them to a narrow valley whose sides formed a steep vee. After passing through its deep, basin-like depression, Dominic stopped. He nodded to Murdoc, who was aware of the next part of the plan.

‘There’s a stream ahead,’ he said to the others. ‘It runs down the valley away from us, but if we can dam it, then dig a channel back to this depression, following the natural fall of the land back to here, it’ll flood before we know it. The stream runs fast from recent rains so it should take no time for this hollow to fill deep. The raiders
have
to come this way to reach the village. I don’t need to tell you what an obstruction this’ll be to them. They can only move forwards along the steep valley sides once this is flooded.’

Augustus was off his pony at once. He removed the spades from the pack pony and threw them to his brothers who had dismounted along with him. ‘Let’s get damming and digging then,’ he said. ‘Show us what you’ve in mind and we’ll get the job done as quick as we can. How much time do we have?’

‘Time enough,’ said Dominic. ‘We move quicker than them, so they’re a good distance behind us, I guess.’

Darga expressed scepticism at the plan. ‘We’ll lose time doing this and tire ourselves for the fighting. They can’t be that far behind us. They’ll catch us in the act. I say leave dam building to beavers. Surely we’d be better putting your other plans to action, and maybe fighting them directly.’

Augustus, his patience with Darga now fully exhausted, exploded with rage. He threw a spade full of dirt over the youth, then threw the spade to the ground and stormed over.

He raged at him. ‘Have you spent the entire winter with your bastard ears plugged with wax! Maybe it’d be better if you shut your mouth and picked up a shovel,’ He pointed to his own discarded shovel. ‘Or maybe I could just shove that shovel up your moaning arse, you—‘

‘Whoa!’ Murdoc stepped between them. ‘We’ve no time for this!’ he shouted. ‘Stop it now! We’re here to fight Saxons, not each other!’

As Augustus turned away cursing, Darga spluttered and brushed the soil from his hair and clothing. Knowing the futility of taking on a glowering Augustus, he sulkily took the shovel thrust to him by Murdoc.

The ponies were put to use. They dragged a fallen tree across the watercourse, partially stemming the flow of water. The tree, which had fallen during the gales of the year before, had upended roots and all. Floating debris carried by the lively flow now snagged on the clay-encrusted root ball, further improving its efficiency as a dam.

Water still seeped through the barrier, but a backlog of muddy, leafy water began to flood across the track and fall back towards the hollow. The men began to dig a shallow trough ahead of it, creating a sluice to speed its progress until it reached the deep, clay basin.

After completing the dig, the men stood admiring their work as the muddy pool began to fill. Darga was the exception; standing hunched and moody away from the group. As the valley filled with water they stepped back a distance.

‘We need to get away from here,’ said Murdoc. ‘We’ll be up to our bollocks in water if we hang around.’ Once beyond the pool, he looked to the heights above him. ‘Now we wait,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’

CHAPTER TWENTY- NINE

After recovering Bealdwine’s headless body, a hush had befallen the raiders. Osric glared ahead.
You’ll pay for this, wolf
, he thought. Turning to his men he said: ‘Drag his body to the side of the track; we’ve no time to dispose of him in any other way.’

‘It would appear that the small, cowardly force you spoke of has struck again.’ The voice belonged to Alfred, the man who had questioned Osric on the matter of resistance when in the tavern in Camulodunum. He strode to the front of the assembly.

‘And cowards they are!’ Osric said. ‘Otherwise they would fight and face us.’  He gave the disillusioned Alfred a hard stare. ‘Anyway, Bealdwine’s death is a timely reminder and will put us on guard and keep us alert.’ Alfred looked unconvinced, causing Osric’s impatience to erupt. ‘WHAT?’ he shouted. ‘Do you expect to ride unchallenged on every campaign, man?’

Alfred walked away from Osric. ‘No I’m prepared to die if needs be, but let it be a warrior’s death. I don’t wish to be left hanging like a rotting hare from a tree.’

‘Then get on your pony and follow me down the track!’ shouted Osric. He addressed the others who skulked by their ponies listening to the exchange. ‘And that goes for all of you. Mount up and follow me!’

The next morning as they progressed, Egbert was lost in thought. Noticing this, Osric clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Cheer up swine-gut,’ he laughed, ‘you’ll be feasting and rutting before the summer arrives.’

Egbert stared sullenly ahead. ‘We should reach the wolf’s lair today, and I would gladly sell my soul to hell if I could spend a week slowly torturing him.’

‘I can guess why you’re tense,’ said Osric, ‘but save the trouble of bartering your soul; that’s a lost cause, man.’

‘We must kill him soon,’ said Egbert, ignoring Osric’s observation. ‘He’s the inspiration behind their fight.’

‘We certainly won’t catch him in his lair,’ said Osric. ‘He is far to cunning for that.’

It was mid-afternoon before they reached the clearing. Dominic had skilfully removed all signs of recent habitation, making the camp seem long abandoned.

Osric rode into the square and looked around in admiration.  ‘It’s a pity you didn’t hold this place, Egbert. It’s well sited and would have provisioned us well today.’

‘It may still do if they’ve left the cellars intact.’ He pointed towards the filled-in pit which had trapped the bear. ‘That’s where Hereward fell to the bear. We need to watch it from here on, they could have set more traps.’

‘Thanks for the warning, but I don’t need it,’ said Osric. ‘Don’t forget I’ve seen what he can do. I’ve no intention staying here any longer than we need to. We need to
check out the cellar you told me about for supplies. If we keep our eyes skinned we should be safe.’ He turned and shouted to the men, who stood talking quietly and nervously nearby. ‘Four men over here, axes ready! The rest take watch around the camp.’

Six of the younger Geoguth, eager to impress Osric and Egbert, stepped forward. Egbert pointed to the hut door. ‘In there, six of you if you must, but study the ground below your feet first, it’s likely a trap‘s been laid.’

One of the men, a sinewy youth named Chad, fell to his belly and slowly snaked his way to the hut door, banging the ground before him with his fist. Six paces from the hut, his fist bounced as it hit the hide cover of the hidden pit.

Wlensling smiled and walked over to Chad. He reached down, found the outer frame of the cover and dragged it from the cavity. ‘Well done,’ he said to the youth. ‘Just look what you’ve saved us from.’

Egbert and Osric joined him at the rim. ‘By Woden’s stinking breath,’ breathed Osric, in awe of the spiked malevolence below. ‘He wouldn’t do such things if he knew how we’ll repay him and his followers for this.’ He looked towards the hut door … then at the six Geoguths. ‘Into the hut now!’ he shouted. ‘Remove anything of use from the cellar then get back here!’

Chad led the others past the pit and through the door of the hut, entering its dark interior. He was the first to fall into the second pit. Due to the darkness, those following did not witness his plunge—Dominic’s last act having been to block the window opening and restrict the light. So they fell downwards with Chad, dropping five feet before hitting the spikes.

Dominic had rightly guessed they would have been wary of the tactic of the pit and would find the first trap. He had then come up with the idea of digging a second hole in the gloom of the hut; his hope being that Saxon complacency might follow the first discovery.

Osric and Wlensling stood astounded as they heard the rumpus from the hut. Egbert smashed at the hut’s window, allowing light to flood in and illuminate the ambush. Only three men were dead. Badly wounded, the others jerked and groaned, pierced through by the stakes.

Egbert entered the threshold, still brandishing his ax. ‘Stand back!’ he shouted to the others. Appalled, he took in the tangle of flesh below him. He turned to Osric. The other nodded his assent and walked from the hut. ‘Make to leave!’ Osric roared to the men around the square. ‘Tether the six spare ponies together so they share the weight of the others.’

A meaty hacking and screams of supplication came from the hut as Egbert dispatched the surviving men.

Osric rode from the clearing in a mad gallop, furious now that his war band numbered just thirty-three men. When his rage was spent, he waited for the others to join him.

Wlensling reached him first. ‘You took a risk,’ he scolded. ‘Riding on ahead and alone. There could be Britons about.’

Osric’s eyes flashed. ‘Why should we fear a few fugitives, what have things come to if we’re scared of an army of ragged peasants?’

‘They’ve sent eight of our men to Woden,’ Wlensling reminded him. ‘Maybe you should bear that in mind.’

Osric sighed and looked to the ground. ‘See … hoof prints … at least we see signs of them at last. We’ll meet them before you know it, mark my words.’

Osric’s hope proved futile and two further days passed without encounter. On the third day they entered a thickly wooded valley.

Egbert peered along the valley and up the steep slopes. ‘A good place for an ambush is this,’ he said to Wlensling. ‘And not a place to spend the night, that’s for sure.’

Osric joined them as they stopped to take in the scene, their ponies jittery in the oppressive atmosphere of the gorge. He looked up the valley and was about to speak when one of the outriders—a youth named Godrys who had gone on ahead—returned, breathless, with news. ‘The valley’s flooded further up, I tried to ford it but it’s too deep.’

Osric exchanged a quizzical look with Egbert and Wlensling. ‘Come … let’s take a look,’ he said as he jabbed his pony into a trot.

Ahead of them, a long narrow lake lapped against the side of the valley. Egbert grasped Osric’s shoulder and pointed ahead. In an elevated position across the lake, eight figures stood. When Osric’s main gathering reached him, the figures on the hill raised their bows and released two volleys.

The Saxons were off their mounts in an instant and hit the ground for cover, some lying flat beneath their ponies. Three men were hit; two taking fatal wounds.

‘Anyone who carries a bow get to the front and return fire!’ shouted Osric. ‘Do not hide like women! If you possess a bow get to the front with me now!’

Wlensling grabbed and shoved the archers forward. He checked the dead and injured. ‘Someone see to Cenhelm!’ he shouted above the clamour. He’s screaming like a stuck swine!’

Osric, who was unpractised with the bow, inched his way forward, followed by just nine archers. As green as Osric, they nevertheless returned a flight of arrows back across the pool. Seeing this, Dominic’s group withdrew from range.

Osric had positioned himself behind a clump of juniper. He shouted his archers forward. ‘Across the track all of you and hold our position!’

Wlensling joined him. ‘We hit one of them,’ he said. ‘I saw a man go down as they retreated. He was hit, I swear it. Success at last.’

Osric shrugged, unconvinced. ‘I don’t know about that,’ he said as he continued to stare up the track looking for movement, ‘but what I do know is that we’ve lost two more men and one to wounding. That’s a quarter, and we’ve still not reached the open land.
And
we still have to cross this lake. You’ve been through here before with Egbert, how deep is this hollow?’

‘Deep. We’ll have to swim if we’re to get across.’

‘This campaign seems cursed,’ rumbled Osric, ‘If we try that, we’ll be easy targets. Most of the men, me included, can’t swim anyway.’

‘Then let the ponies swim. The men will have to climb round the best they can. There’s trees on the sides they can hide behind if the arrows start to fly.’

Osric scanned the valley sides ahead. ‘We’ve little choice other than go back and find a different route. Get the men ready to move forward.’