Wolfbane (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) (46 page)

‘It’s them … no doubt,’ said Flint, excited now. ‘How long to the monastery from here?’ he asked Kael.

‘A day and half mounted.’

‘We’ll be there by mid-day tomorrow, then,’ said Flint as he climbed upon his pony. He offered his arm to Kael, who took it and swung onto the back of his mount.

Flint led the way, their passage easy and uninterrupted down the good track that passed by the trading post. No man stirred there.
No doubt sleeping off more of Fincath’s wine,
thought Dominic who (ever the tracker and scout) rode at the rear of the group, alert to any movement or potential danger.

As late afternoon passed over into evening, little light remained in the sky. Withred wheeled his pony back down the track towards Dominic. ‘There’s good grass and water ahead for the ponies and a level space for a camp,’ Withred told him. ‘Unless you intend to press on through darkness it looks to be a good place to stop until morning.’

‘Stop we will, then,’ Dominic said. ‘I don’t fancy trying to follow the trail over rough ground. Kael said the monastery lies on the other side of a wood.’ He looked behind him, then at Withred. ‘We’ve been followed since we set out,’ he said. He paused as a concerned Withredsearchingl
y
eyed the track behind them. ‘Fincath must have put a man on our tail,’ continued Dominic. ‘He’s kept well back but I’ve seen him a couple of times when I withdrew into the cover beside the track.’

Withred sighed. ‘This complicates things but it doesn’t surprise me,’ he said. ‘I would have done the same if three strangers had turned up on my threshold, then left the day after with a purse of my gold. What should we do now?’

‘Like you say, it complicates things,’ Dominic said. ‘As soon as we turn from the track, it confirms we were lying about going straight back to the docks. He’ll be back to Fincath at once, then we
will
be in trouble.’

‘We have to stop him then,’ said Withred.

‘Undoubtedly; there’s nothing else we can do.’

‘What do we do with him?’

‘Keep him quiet.’

‘Kill him, you mean?’

Dominic looked troubled. ‘I find it hard to kill anyone who’s done me no harm. For all we know the man might have been forced by Fincath to follow us.’

‘My thoughts too,’ said Withred. ‘I’ve never killed a man unless he deserved it, or attacked me.’  He rubbed his forehead, frustrated at the complication. ‘It was never going to be easy. Already we have the problem of getting Murdoc out of Guertepir’s grasp when we return to Dyfed—we won’t be taking a severed head back with us, that’s for sure— and now this. What do we do?’

‘First, we ride to the front with Flint and Kael. Then I’ll try to deal with it.’

All day, Latchna had been careful to ride out of sight behind the trackside shrubbery. When the criminal, Kael, had joined up with the three Britons, he had considered returning at once to Fincath, but had eventually decided to follow them, reasoning it would take only another few hours to establish whether the Britons intended to take a boat to their homeland. If they did, it would mean their meeting with Kael was of no significance; if not, he would return at speed to Fincath with news of British
and
Hibernian treachery.

For the rest of the day he kept out of sight, in the shrubbery just off the track, as he shadowed Dominic’s group. Frequently, though, he stepped back onto the track to confirm their position. One man, obviously a tracker himself, had ridden at the back of the group, and it had taken Latchna all of his skill and guile to remain hidden from him.

Now, as the riders stopped ahead of him, Latchna concealed himself behind a grassy mound. Five hundred paces distant, the tracker and another man spoke. Latchna watched as they turned to head towards Kael and the other Briton who waited for them. As the sun dipped under the low hills westwards, he saw the four riders leave the track.

He considered the significance of this. The docks were still five miles distant so the
y
must have pulled into cover to camp for the night. That, or changed their route significantly. He had to be sure before he returned to Fincath. If they camped, he would have to wait the night out to ensure they continued to the docks the following day. If not, and they continued in a direction away from the docks, he would need to return to Fincath with news of British subterfuge.

Careful now, he tethered his pony and made his way on foot through the trackside brush.

Clever bastard
was his immediate thought as Dominic grabbed him from behind and slammed him to the ground.
Not one twig snapped, not one leaf rustled.

Dominic jammed his forearm across Latchna’s throat; his knife—a trophy from the Saxon, Bealdwine, who he had killed in a British forest—held to Latchna’s face.

‘Just keep still and don’t even think about fighting me,’ warned Dominic.

Aware he was out of his depth Latchna became compliant.

Dominic continued. ‘Good man, you’ve obviously got no wish to die. Now turn on your belly and give me your arms.’
 

Again Latchna complied, allowing Dominic to bind his arms from behind.

Dominic pulled him to his feet, then pushed him forward. ‘Don’t talk, just walk … ahead, until I tell you to stop.’

‘It’s you! Latchna!’ said Kael, as Dominic arrived at the camp, placed his hand on top of Latchna’s head, and pushed him down upon his rear next to Withred’s recently-made fire.

Sitting cross-legged now, his arms tightly bound behind him, Latchna eyed Kael disdainfully. ‘Yes it’s me, he said. ‘The man you owe your life to. If I hadn’t arrived with news of the slaves’ escape when you were playing tug of war with the cow, your eyes would have popped out of your detached head.’

Kael flicked a sly glance towards Dominic and the others. All had turned to look at him.

He turned away from them and back to Latchna. ‘Sounds to me that you’re still licking Fincath’s arse,’ he sneered. ‘Still a liar, too, by the sound of it.’’ Pointing to Latchna, he turned to Dominic. ‘This man’s killed many people who deserved to live. He is a known liar and will say anything to save his own skin. Kill him now, is my advice, unless you want to chance him getting news of your plans to Fincath.’

Dominic had not shifted his gaze from Kael since Latchna had spoken. ‘I do not kill any man on the say so of another,’ he said. He turned to Latchna. ‘Until you spoke, I reckoned we had only one problem … now maybe we have two. Why was he subject to torture? What disagreement with Fincath was so bad that he put that welt upon his neck?’

Latchna again eyed Kael with disdain. His smile was sardonic. ‘Told you he had a disagreement with Fincath did he?’ He gave a dry little laugh.  ‘No … he had a
disagreement
with a lad over a game of dice; disagreed with him so strongly that he cut his throat and allowed him to bleed out like a butchered swine. Then he robbed the—‘

‘Do not believe the lying lackey!’ Kael stood over Latchna jabbing his finger in accusation. ‘I’ve told you; he will say anything to save his own—‘

Dominic now intervened, grabbing Kael, who looked ready to attack Latchna. He threw him back to Flint.  ‘This is getting us nowhere. It’s one man’s word against the other, and we still have a job to do.’

He looked both men over and could not help thinking that Latchna seemed the more worthy man. Something in the way he had responded to the shiftless Kael rang true with him. Maybe Latchna was just a scout like himself, doing his job for Fincath. Anyway, why would he lie about Kael?

Turning to Withred, Dominic made his decision quickly. ‘We’ll leave this man here with you, Withred. Guard him until we get back with the children. Then we’ll leave him bound and make for the docks.’ He looked at Latchna whose relief was palpable. ‘Don’t worry, we
will
leave word of your location here, and as soon as we are at sea someone will release you.’

Latchna looked relieved. ‘Being bound for a couple of days is but a small worry to me … I expected you to kill me.’

‘Give me reason too and I will,’ said Dominic. ‘Scouting for Fincath, however, is not reason enough.’

Withred, who shared Dominic’s perception of Latchna and Kael, spoke to Flint who still restrained Kael.

‘Did he tell you how to get to the children as you rode with him today?’  

‘Yes he did,’ said Flint. ‘The way seems straightforward … over some rough ground, but straightforward it seems.’

Withred’s look to Dominic was telling.
Now we know the way to go, do we really need a murderer in our company.

Dominic read Withred’s look immediately. He looked to Kael. ‘I will not take a killer to Britannia—will not expose the children to your presence. You lied to us, of that I have no doubt. Somehow, you escaped execution and I will leave it at that. You, too, will remain here with Withred, and be released—‘

Kael’s rising fury suddenly exploded as he grabbed Flint’s knife from its belt loop, jerked free of him, then lunged forward. Latchna had no chance to defend himself as Kael thrust the dagger through his heart, killing him instantly.

Flint hit Kael from the back, knocking him to the ground. Still wielding Flint’s dagger, Kael was able to wrest himself from Flint’s grasp and stumble to his knees. As he made to attack Flint, Dominic’s arrow entered his eye. Feebly, he pawed at the arrow before falling dead to the floor.

Dominic attended to Latchna. He looked to the others, the shake of his head confirming what they already knew.

Flint was furious with himself. ‘I let him take my knife and an innocent man was killed. UNFORGIVABLE!’ He snatched the arrow from Kael’s skull and tossed it back to Dominic. Then he pulled his dagger from Kael’s dead grip.

Withred could not help but smile at the young man’s frustration. He put his hands on Flint’s shoulders and looked him in the eyes. ‘
E
very
M
istake
I
s
A
L
esson
L
earned,’ he said, slowly stressing every word. ‘You’ll never fall for that move again, so take comfort from it.’

But Flint was far from comforted. ‘My line of work means I cannot afford to make mistakes. Mistakes lead to the grave for people like me.’

As Withred and Flint had spoken, Dominic had begun the task of removing Kael from sight. Grunting as he dragged him towards a clump of thick shrubbery, he said, ‘This man made a mistake, that’s for sure. Always thought he’d be a problem … seemed a shifty bastard from the beginning.’

Dominic placed Kael out of sight and went to Latchna. The man lay dead on his side, his arms still tightly bound behind his back. ‘This man may or may not have deserved to die—who knows what his past deeds were—but no man should die as he did.’ He looked to Withred and Flint who were gazing thoughtfully at Latchna. ‘Your turn,’ he said as he pointed to him. ‘Drag him next to Kael. My old back’s done enough.’

The next day, at first light, they took to the track.

Flint pointed to a colony of trees in the distance. ‘According to what Kael told me, half a day’
s
rid
e
through those woods should see us to our destination. If we keep beside a faint path that runs near a stream, we’ll come to the monastery.’

Looking pensive, Dominic thought things through. After a brief assessment, he said, ‘We need to get the children and be back at the docks by evening. Fincath will send his sons out today, be sure of that, so time will be tight for us.’

To Withred, he said, ‘I think it would be better if you continued down the track to the docks. Druce will need to ready the boat for the journey back home, so you need to alert him. It’s crucial the boat is ready to sail and we’re on it as soon as we reach the docks.’

‘That leaves just two of you,’ said Withred, concerned. ‘What if things go wrong again?’

‘They’ll come after us in numbers, I’m sure, so it doesn’t make any difference how many
we
are … we’ll die anyway if we can’t avoid them. Speed is the thing now. We need to get this done and get on the boat.’

Withred mounted his pony. ‘I’ll see you at the docks, then,’ he said, aware that Dominic’s shrewdness had not failed them up to now. ‘Get there by this evening, though, or I’ll be frantic.’

Kael’s description of the route proved true, and by midday, Dominic and Flint viewed the monastery grounds from the same outlook used by the children seventeen days earlier.

Dominic spotted a young monk coming up the path from the fields below—a lad, no doubt, sent to watch for intruders.

‘We need to avoid him,’ he whispered to Flint, as he pulled him into a pile of bracken before them. ‘We need to view the grounds for ourselves, first. The monk will deny the children are here, he has no choice, he doesn’t know who we are.’

They lay still as the monk passed by. When satisfied he was out of earshot, Dominic and Flint parted the green wall before them to give them a view of the grounds below. They watched, as below them, Mule walked over to the pond, hand in hand with Elowen
.
Maewyn was not with them. Flint looked to Dominic his face both elated and trembling with emotion.