Wolfbane (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) (54 page)

Arthur shook his head resignedly, not in the least surprised by Dominic and Withred’s appearance. ‘No doubt his good lady, Martha, had something to do with that. It would be better if you two had women to keep you at Brythonfort—that way you would get nagged to take rest when you need it.’

‘To smell bastards burning is worth a whole month of rest,’ said Withred, his stark profile burnished gold by the blaze from the compound as he turned towards it.

Arthur stood and went to Tomas … embraced him. ‘Well done lad,’ he said. ‘I never doubted you’d come through this. I’ll have the minstrel write a song praising your deeds—it will tell of the brave youth who helped to remove a prickly thorn from the arse of the west.’

As Tomas blushed, Dominic laughed along with the others. He looked beyond the fields, towards the east. Tomorrow, maybe the day after, he knew he must set out again. For him, rest was not something that was going to come any time soon.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

It was the heart-rending sound of Ula, as he cried out for Cate in his troubled sleep, which had finally moved Augustus to leave Brythonfort. He had risen early that day, and left while Modlen still slept. He knew she would be appalled at his intention to leave alone and travel to the east coast. Worse still, she would prevent him from leaving, because Augustus, who feared no man, always listened to his wife.

His twin brothers, William and John, had watched as he rode out of sight into the darkness. Later that day, they would tell Modlen the reason for Augustus’ absence and consequently endure her ire for letting him go.

The night was speckled with silver and still held no hint of dawn as Augustus set off towards the Roman road.  A day’s ride would see him to the road—a road he had travelled on months earlier when riding to Norwic with Dominic.

He intended to take the same route and pass through Londinium. If stopped and questioned, he would be a merchant travelling to Norwic to do business. His saddle pannier contained a selection of miscellaneous items to back up his story.

Dawn came and he continued to ride—his first day passing without event. Stiff from his first day in the saddle, and still feeling the soreness of his past injuries, he camped that night beside the Roman road.

The next morning, he again left at first light, knowing that seven more days lay before him before he would come to Londinium.

The villages he passed on his way were, at first, British, but this changed the nearer he got to Londinium. Here, Saxon incursion had led to the displacement of the British peasant by the Germanic. Barefoot, blond children, fascinated by his size, would watch the British giant in awe as he passed by their homesteads.

No one challenged him on his first days, the occasional groups he met on the road having no dealings with war or raiding, and by the midmorning of the seventh day of his journey, he sighted Londinium.

Here, he had a side mission, and after clattering over the one bridge that spanned the river named
Tamesa
, he entered the tumbledown town.

Months earlier, when visiting the town with Dominic and the others, he had been moved by the plight of a brave little family who were struggling to survive by scavenging on the shores of the river. That they were Saxon mattered not to Augustus. He saw them merely as people struggling to survive the often-cruel surroundings of his homeland.

This day the riverside was empty but for one man who squatted and jabbed his bark-stripped stick into the shingle shore. A wicker basket was beside him. Augustus decided to approach him.

‘Good morning to you, fellow,’ he shouted. ‘My name is Gus and I seek a man named Godwine; a man spare of build who has been known to work these shores.’

The man, still squatting, held up his hand to shield the sun from his eyes as he squinted up at Augustus. ‘A Saxon he is, and I know him well,’ said the man. ‘Even tempered and agreeable fellow, lives against the wall in the town.’

Augustus was in luck; the man was British and spoke his tongue. ‘Yes, that’s him. Just wanted to make sure he was still around. Thanks for your help.’ He was about to leave and continue into the town when it occurred to him that Godwine did not speak Celtic, nor he Saxon. He turned back to the man. ‘Tell me, do you speak the Saxon tongue?’ he asked.

The man stood up. ‘Enough to get me by,’ he said, as he picked up his basket of finds.  He shook the basket towards Augustus, its hollow rattle suggesting the man had not had a good morning. ‘The man who buys this off me is Saxon, so are most of the people in this town for that matter, so it helps me get a better deal if I can actually talk to them.’

Augustus rummaged in his belt purse and took out a silver coin. Holding it between thumb and forefinger, he displayed it to the man. ‘This is yours if you would do me the favour of coming with me to see Godwine and talk between us so we can understand each other.’

Looking at the silver bit, the man realised it bettered anything that lay in his basket. ‘Of course I’ll come,’ he said. ‘My name is Hueil and it will be good to take the strain from my knees for a while.’ Augustus tossed him the coin and they left the riverbank and headed into the town.

Godwine recognized Augustus at once.
‘Once seen, never forgotten,’
Murdoc had once said of Augustus—an insight that now sprang immediately to his mind. Godwine’s wife, Hild, and daughter, Udela, joined Godwine as Augustus gave him a bear hug in greeting; a hug that left Godwine’s feet dangling. After kissing Hild on the cheek, he held out his arms for Udela, who after a moment’s hesitation, consented to be lifted and hugged (
gently)
by Augustus.

He looked at the child and noted her face was not as full as he remembered. Hilde and Godwine also looked undernourished and unwell. Hueil assumed his role as interpreter as Augustus began to chatter with them.

He learned that the pickings on the shoreline had been sparse, and food hard to come by. Two days had passed since the family had eaten anything other than kelp carried from the sea by the river.

After listening to their tale, Augustus thanked the Gods he had decided to visit them on his way to Norwic. ‘I suppose you wonder why I came,’ he said, after giving Udela back to Hilde. He walked to his pony and routed through its pannier.  ‘Apart from wishing to see you all again, it was to give you this.’

He pulled out the fishing net and folded it across his arms to show it to Godwine. Found in a dusty basement in Brythonfort, the net’s origin was uncertain. Augustus had come across it during his convalescence, and upon finding it, had immediately thought of Godwine and his family. He had promised himself, then, that he would take the net to Londinium one day. Circumstances had since provided him with the opportunity.

Godwine looked stunned as he viewed the pristine and unused net. As Augustus held it forward for his inspection, he stroked the weave, as if entranced.

After a while, he looked up to Augustus with brimming eyes. ‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice emotional and barely above a whisper. ‘You do not know what this means to us.’

Hilde, now holding Udela, came over to Augustus, her tears coursing freely down her face. Together with Godwine, she hugged Augustus.

That night, the family—along with the interpreter, Hueil—had their first cooked meal for three days; the food donated by Augustus. Together, they ate a hearty supper around a crackling fire, and spoke long into the night.

The next morning, Augustus said an emotional goodbye to Godwine and his family, promising he would return one day when the opportunity arose.

Five further days were to pass before he got his first sight of Norwic. Although arduous (Augustus had still not fully recovered from his injuries), his journey from Londinium had been uneventful. The campaigning season was now over and the road held no threat. Only casual travellers and merchants journeyed upon it, and they merely nodded their greeting to him as he passed them by.

He still had to find Cate and could only hope she was still in Britannia. What Griff had said, led him to hope she was. The first time Augustus had met him (inside his whorehouse along with Dominic, Withred, Murdoc and Flint) Griff had told them that no more boats were to sail to Hibernia from Norwic that year. Consequently, he now approached the town with cautious hope.

“Once seen never forgotten,”
Murdoc’s words came to him again, and
he knew he had to be careful, so he covered his head with the hood of his tunic and rode into the town’s open square.

Like before, the market was in full sway, and, once again, the Icini pork seller stood behind his rough, wooden stall. Augustus knew from their previous meeting that the man hated the Saxons. He also knew that the man didn’t miss a trick.

As Augustus approached him, the pork seller anticipated a sale. ‘Ah … a traveler by the look of you and by-your-leave an enormous fellow to boot.’ He had already begun to slice of a huge hunk of meat from the haunch that lay before him. Augustus fished in his purse and took out a silver coin. He threw it on the table where it spun a moment before settling with a woody rattle.

The pork seller nodded his appreciation, then slid the coin off the table and straight into his apron pocket. ‘Thank you it will make a lovely ornament, which I will—‘

‘—have made into an amulet for the price of half a pig, then sell on the finished item for a full pig,’ finished Augustus for the pork seller.

The pork sellers head shot back as he smiled his curiosity at Augustus. ‘Do I know you?’ he asked.

Briefly, Augustus removed his hood.

The pork seller recognized him at once. ‘Whoa, you’re a brave fellow to come back here,’ he said. ‘Lucky for you that Griff is out of town after what you and your friends did that night.’

Augustus put his hood back up and took hold of the huge piece of pork before him. He took a bite, ravenous after his day on the trail.

‘It’s
Griff
I want to find,’ he said, through a mouthful of pork. ‘I think he may have something he shouldn’t have.’

The pork seller nodded knowingly. ‘I’ll not ask you your business; sometimes it’s best if you don’t know a man’s business ...’ He paused a moment, then sighed resignedly and continued. ‘Look … I don’t know why I’m telling you this and your business is your own, but here I go anyway.’ After a quick look around to ensure nobody was in earshot, he gave Augustus a serious look. ‘I know what you and your companions did the last time you were here. I also know that one of the children—a girl—was recaptured and brought back to the town.’ Now enthralled, Augustus stopped chewing as he listened to the little man before him. ‘So if you want to find her, you’re right to look for Griff. She’ll probably be with him at his villa.’

‘No more boat’s sailed, then,’ said Augustus. ‘I feared she may have been taken over the sea somehow, even though Griff told us that no more trading boats were to sail this year.’

‘Only fishing vessels have left this port in the last three months,’ said the pork seller.

‘How can you be sure that Griff has her at his villa?’

‘Because he needs to protect her purity and so her worth … and he can best do that back in the security of his villa.’

And Griff himself? Would
he
not be tempted to defile the girl?

The fish seller tilted his head back and gave Augustus a little smile, which asked,
You’ve met Griff and you don’t know?
‘Tempted to defile a boy, maybe, but not a girl, if you get my meaning,’ said the vendor as his smile broadened into a grin. ‘Even his bodyguard’s had his balls chopped off, so you’ve no need to worry on that score either.  Listen … if you want to find Griff, then that’s easy; he’ll be at his villa, ten miles along yonder road.’ He furtively jabbed his crooked finger towards a track that ran northwards from the town, ‘… lives there with his slaves … and his dogs.’ He emphasised the mentioning of the dogs with a meaningful look and little nod of the head.

Augustus had already briefly met the mastiffs on his previous visit and was aware of their ferocity, but had not really thought too much about them until now. Now, he realised he may have to deal with them should he go to the villa.
Would
have to deal with them
when
he went to the villa, he reminded himself.

The pork seller offered Augustus a cloth. After wiping his hands and mouth with it, he thanked the man for his information and took the northern track.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Twelve days after Augustus’ departure from Brythonfort, William and John had approached Dominic for help. Having witnessed Modlen’s anguish over their brother’s disappearance, they had made the decision to set out to find him. This, they realised, would be easier if they had Dominic with them, as they knew he could get them rapidly eastwards through the forest.

Unknown to them, though, Dominic had already taken the decision to look for Augustus, and two days after Ranulf and his raiders had become corpses, Augustus’s brothers were surprised to find that Dominic was already preparing to leave. After a brief discussion, they agreed to leave together.

Dominic stood beside his pony, equipping it for the journey. ‘If all‘s gone well for him he should have reached Norwic by now,’ he said. ‘Possibly even be on his way back.’

‘He will be if he’s found the girl and somehow managed to rescue her,’ said William, who was a younger version of Augustus himself.

In fact, as Dominic looked at the identical twins before him, he saw
two
young Augustus’ and this filled him with confidence for the upcoming journey.

‘We can only guess at how it’s gone for him,’ said Dominic. ‘If we assume he’s had a smooth run of it, he’ll travel by night and hide by day. He’ll also return through the forest, if I know your brother. He’s not stupid; he knows that’s the best way to shake off any chasers.’

‘Is that the way we’ll go then?’ asked William as he hauled his brawny bulk up onto his pony.

‘Yes certainly,’ said Dominic. ‘Five days will get us to Aebbeduna on the edge of the forest and near to your old village. With any luck, Gus will be well into the forest by then. If he keeps to the main track, we should meet him in there. Then we can ride back with him; raise his spirits and take the burden from him.’

‘And fix him if he’s taken injury,’ said John, concerned. ‘He was still not right after being hurt before. Only a man of his strength could set off on such a journey alone when still recovering from such pain.’

‘That’s Gus for you,’ said Dominic as he swung onto his own pony. ‘A heart as big as the forest, and fists as big as turnips.’

Modlen came to them then, with Art and Ula by her side. William and John bent forward in their saddles and hugged their farewells to her. William then offered his arm to Art. John did the same to Ula. Effortlessly, they pulled both boys up and sat them on their ponies. Beaming, the lads looked down to Modlen and over to Dominic, more than happy in the company of their new uncles.

Modlen went over to Dominic and fondly put her hand on his arm. ‘Thank you for doing this,’ she said. ‘I’ve hardly slept since he left.’

‘It’s no burden to try and help a man I love dearly,’ said Dominic. He nodded towards the boys. ‘Look at that,’ he smiled. ‘Two sets of twins … one pair missing a brother, the other pair missing a sister.’

‘Then on your way so that all may be united soon,’ said Modlen.