Amber Treasure, The (12 page)

Samlen was glaring at Peredur.

“Did you not take their weapons?”

“Yes, Sire, but he must have
concealed this one, forgive me,” Peredur said, showing his own fear of the one-eyed
chieftain, but now Samlen had turned his fury back to Wallace. He kicked him in
the stomach and then slammed his foot down on Wallace’s broken arm, so that he
screamed again in renewed agony.

“So, that is Aelle’s plan: to
assassinate me and maybe stop our army marching. He knows we have armies
gathering does he? Much good it will do him: I will burn his little country and
make him pay.”

Wallace was back on his knees and
spoke in a weak voice.

“It was not Aelle’s doing. It was
my idea. I tried and I failed so, if you must burn someone, make it me.”

Samlen smiled at that.

“I may do that. Burning an
English lord, eh? Yes, my warriors would like that. Take them away, Peredur,
and lock them up while I decide their fate.”

We were abruptly herded out of
the door. Peredur snapped out an order and his men pushed and shoved at us with
spears and shields. The Welsh chieftain was angry at us now, perhaps thinking
that we had tricked him and also feeling aggrieved that the botched
assassination of Samlen was being blamed on him.

Around the side of Samlen’s hall
there were a few large buildings that may once have been workshops. One of
these had large double doors. We were pushed through and the doors were slammed
and barred shut behind us. The rest of the company was already here.

Sigmund examined Wallace’s arm,
then looking round the room he found a small length of broken pole −
perhaps a table leg or a spear once − and taking strips of cloth from the
bindings around his legs, strapped Wallace’s arm to it, having first had Eduard
pull hard on the lord’s hand to straighten the bones as best as he could.
Wallace grimaced and gave a slight groan at this, but stood the pain well.

Sweating and his face pale,
Wallace now quickly told everyone about what had transpired in the other
building.

“Well done, my Lord, for trying
to kill him,” Eduard grunted and everyone nodded their agreement.

“Now what do we do?” Cuthbert
asked loudly. Grettir growled at him to hold his tongue and wait to be told and
so my friend went off in a sulk to the far side of the room and sat down alone.

“Cerdic?” Eduard said, just
visible in the dark room to my side.

“Yes, Ed, what is it?”

“While you were in that room,
some Welsh villagers came in bringing food for the garrison here.”

“Well, what of it?”

“I recognised one of them.”

I felt my heart miss a beat, my
hands bunching into fists.

“Do you mean ...”

“Yes, it was your slave: here in
the fort.”

“Um ... well, if we can escape, I
look forward to breaking the little runt’s traitorous neck,” I hissed.

With a scraping and juddering
noise, the door swung open and a dozen armed guards moved into the room
followed by Samlen. He too was armed and I gasped as I realised that he was
carrying my uncle’s sword. Standing in front of us now, he glanced around the
room and then at Wallace.

“You were fools to come here
hoping to attack this place and rescue your people. Nevertheless, there can be
courage in foolishness and your act,” now he pointed at Wallace, “showed me you
have guts, so I offer you a choice.” He opened his arms to include us all. “In
fact, I offer you all a choice.”

He pointed his sword, my uncle’s
sword, at us.

“Your people − the Angles
are doomed. You came to this land like a tidal wave and swept away all in your
path. But the tides are turning. The seas are now going east and it is you who
will be swept away. My people will reclaim what once belonged to us. What will
become of you then? Will you be destroyed? You need not be: there is an
alternative. You are warriors. Join me and you will write your names in glory
in our songs and our stories. Our children will grow up knowing your names.
That is the offer I give: be a warrior in my army. Forget your past and seize a
new future.”

He stood, waiting for a response
but none of us answered him. Eduard spat to show his feelings. Finally, Lilla
came forward and everyone looked at him and I was not the only one holding my
breath.

“You said that our names will be
written in stories and poems and those songs will be known to your children. I
agree.” Samlen looked with interest at the bard but Lilla shook his head. “You
are right, but for the wrong reasons. These men will not betray their homes and
their king for such a promise of false glory. If their names are written in
song and poetry, it will be because I wrote them and it won’t be about Welsh
victories over the English, but our revenge over you, Samlen.”

Samlen stared at him coldly and
around at the rest of us. Then, he moved another piece on the table of our game
with him. This move had me stunned.

“There is yet more to my offer that
you have not heard. All of you can save your lives and those of any family I
hold here, if you will just join me. Your families will be freed and if you
serve me you will be given land to farm.”

So there it was. If I just
stepped forward and knelt and swore loyalty to him, I would be a warrior in his
army. I would have land and Mildrith would be safe. But, I thought I could now
hear Loki laughing and I knew then that Samlen could not be trusted.

No one moved.

“There, you have your answer. Do
with us what you will, but we will not join you,” Wallace said.

“You fools ...” Samlen started to
reply, but then I just lunged at him with my bare hands, face snarling like a
madman, fists flying and feet kicking. Samlen did not move but just smashed the
hilt of the sword into my face, knocking me down. Then he swung the sword up
and it looked like he would kill me.

“Fight me!” I shouted. The sword
hesitated and Samlen looked down at me.

“Who are you, then?”

“That sword is mine, it belongs
to my family. I will fight you for it.”

The one-eyed chieftain examined
the blade for a moment. Then he laughed.

“I don’t think so. I killed the
man who owned this sword and took it from him. Took his sister as well and brought
her back, here.”

“It was my brother, it was his
sword. She is my sister, Mildrith: fight me!”

“You are nothing. You refused my
offer. You are no longer free: in fact you are a slave. I do not fight slaves.
The sword is mine and I may take more from you − I may take your sister
to my bed,” he grinned his ghastly smile, the knotted purple scar wrinkling the
empty eye socket. I felt a brief gleam of satisfaction knowing that my uncle
had done that to this man’s face with that very sword. It was on the tip of my
tongue to tell him so, but then he laughed and started to walk away.

“You should have taken my offer,
fool!”

I was angry now and desperate to
kill him. “Coward! You’re just a coward!”

He spun round and thrust the
sword point at my throat.

“No, you do not get to call me a
coward. You seem to think that I will want to defend my honour and meet you in
single combat and that to refuse that challenge would be cowardly. Indeed it
would, coming from a warrior of my race, coming from a man of rank, but you
...”

“He is Cerdic, son of Cenred of
the Villa, warrior of Deira and heir to his father’s estates, he ...” Wallace
started to say but was interrupted by Samlen who slapped Wallace with the back
of his hand, splitting his lip which now started to bleed heavily. Wallace was
knocked back against some of his men and was stunned into silence.

Samlen looked down at him in
disgust and then turned and spat at me.

“Nothing, you are nothing,” he
roared, his face red with fury. “None of you are anything. You take our land
and enslave our people and think you are so mighty. Well, you are wrong. Here,
you are filth. Here, you are slaves. Slaves have no rights. A free man and a
prince cannot lose face to such as you.”

He stomped away towards the door
and then turned and looked at the company.

“Your lives mean nothing. I may
hang you all; I may sell you as slaves. I don’t care. When I come back, I will
decide.”

He pointed at me and shouted some
words to his men, who came forward and pushed Lilla, Wallace and myself out of
the door. He then turned back to the rest of the company.

“Enjoy the next day or so in your
fine residence,” he said gesturing with his hands at the decaying Roman
workshop, “it may be your last!”

Then, the door was shut and
barred behind us. Samlen and his men marched us out onto the parade ground and
over to a gallows large enough to hang ten men. I thought we were going to
hang, but Samlen had a longer ordeal planned for us, it seemed. They struck off
Wallace’s makeshift splint, lashed our hands together and then passed a loop of
rope under the knot. The other end of the rope was thrown over the crossbeam of
the gallows and was heaved up until we each hung suspended from our wrists, our
toes barely touching the ground. Finally it was tied off, around the crossbeam.
Wallace by this time had passed out; the pain from his broken arm must have
been intolerable.

Samlen now stepped back and
addressed us. “I will be back in the fort soon. My men and I will lay bets on
which of you are still alive by then.” He squinted up at the skies where
gathering storm clouds indicated the warm spring days we had just enjoyed were
over, for a while. “Looks like you are going to get wet,” he added then
laughing, he walked away.

The rope dug into my wrists,
cutting the skin so that blood was dripping down my arms, which were already
going numb. The tension on my shoulders was unbearable and I was finding it
hard to breath. Next to me, Wallace was groaning; I could not begin to imagine
his agony. On my other side, Lilla had closed his eyes: perhaps to try and blot
out the pain. I shivered. The sun was already low in the sky and soon it
started raining.

I groaned in despair. We were
fifteen miles from home and inside hostile territory, bound and strung up with
no weapons, at the dubious mercy of a madman who might kill us all on a whim,
at any moment... and I had absolutely no idea how to escape.

Chapter Ten

The Rescue

It was quite late
now and the wind was blowing up a gale so that the rain, having started
lightly, was now pelting down. Around us, the Welsh warriors took shelter and
waited for the storm to pass. We could not avoid the rain and within minutes
were soaked to the skin and it soon felt as if my limbs were frozen solid.
Wallace was still groaning as he dangled next to me, but was getting weaker
with the passing hours. The weight of his body pulling on his broken arm was
obviously causing him agony.

The rain started to lighten after
half an hour or so of torrential downpour. Soon afterwards, I noticed that
there were groups of the Welsh warriors gathering on the parade ground nearby.
Some were observing us with vague interest, but I was sure that it was not only
the spectacle of us three Angle warriors that drew them here. More emerged,
until at least two hundred of them were standing around in the gathering gloom.
All were armed, well equipped and looked ready for the march.

One of them, with a grey cloak
wrapped tightly round him, came towards us. He peered at us from a short
distance away and then came even closer. As he did, I looked up and now I saw
the man’s face. For a moment I stared at him, not understanding what I was
seeing. For it was not the man I was half expecting to see at any moment: it
was not Aedann the traitor, coming over to gloat at us, but to my great
surprise the face belonged to the missing red-haired lad, Hussa.

Well, I might not get on with
him, but I did not really care who rescued us. I wondered how he had escaped,
but then thought I did not care about that, either. All that mattered now was
that he was here, disguised as a Welsh warrior, and coming to free us. He
stepped closer and our eyes made contact. As they did, my heart sank in despair,
for all I could see in them was triumph, contempt and hate. He wasn’t going to
free us. He had come to gloat.

“So then, you have been caught
and will die here,” he sneered, “and your father will mourn another son.”

“Hussa, try and get a knife and
cut us down. Although maybe it’s best to wait till the Welsh go away,” Lilla
said.

Hussa frowned.

“Now, why would I do that, when I
can watch you suffer?”

“Hussa, what are you saying?” I
asked.

“Dear me, Cerdic, but you are
rather dim. Don’t you realise I have joined Samlen? Who do you think it was
told him about your mother’s jewellery and where to find the Villa?”

“You? I thought it was Aedann.”

He blinked at that and did not
immediately reply. Then he snorted.

“Did it not occur to you that we
might be working together?”

Wallace groaned and Hussa glanced
over at him, impassively, then back to me.

“Why, Hussa, why?”

“Well, revenge upon you and your
family, obviously, but there is more than that. Since my mother died I have
nothing in Wicstun, so I have spent less and less time there. I have been
travelling a lot and one day, soon after she died, Samlen captured me. I had
been out in those woods, beyond the Villa, where we hunted boar. I must have
been going further and further west and eventually, I reached the ford on the
river and realised I had gone clean through the woods. I was turning to head
back, when I was attacked by about a dozen warriors. They took me across the
river and brought me in front of Samlen. He was at a camp in that bit of land
between the rivers.

“Gods, but he is a monster. I was
terrified and tried to get them to let me go, but he just laughed and hit me.
He said he wanted to know about Wicstun − how many men were there; what
loot there was and so on. He seemed to be planning a raid. I refused to tell
them but ...”

Hussa shuddered now and seemed to
be reliving something horrific. He did not speak for a couple minutes. Next to
me, Wallace was wheezing and then suddenly his chest was wracked by a coughing
fit. Finally, Hussa spoke again.

“I don’t think I am very brave to
be honest. That’s another thing your family seem to have over me,” he added
with a glance in my direction.

Lilla now spoke.

“So, they tortured you and you
betrayed us.”

Hussa nodded.

“At first I told them tales about
there being five hundred warriors at Wicstun and how fierce they were, but they
did not believe me. They laughed and then hurt me some more.

“In the end, I told them anything
I thought would interest them. Samlen wanted to know about treasure, so I told
him about anyone I knew of who had money or precious items. He then let me go.
He said he wanted to know more. He said he was coming one day and if I did not
keep returning to him with more information, he would kill me. Then, he gave me
some money. Not much ... just a little. But I had none myself and what he did
give me would feed me for a week. Then, the week was up and I needed more
money, so I went and told him about the Fyrd training and who Lord Wallace was
and anything I could find. He paid me again and ... I kept on doing it.”

He looked me up and down.

“I have good reason to hate you
and your family, that’s true. So, when I won that tournament on the day of the
muster, I was ecstatic. I had triumphed over you, in full view of the people I
hated. Not just in full view either, but actually on their land and I had
bested their son, as well.”

“So that is why you betrayed us?”

“Quiet, Cerdic, let us hear him
out,” Lilla murmured, wearily.

“In my pride, I thought I could
conquer something else. I thought Aidith might succumb to my charms,” Hussa
went on, with a laugh. I tensed at that and glared at him.

“Did she?” I asked. He shook his
head.

“No. Oh, she was happy to spend
an hour or two with me, but when I started telling her what I thought about you
and your family, she grew angry and in the end went off and left me. I spent a
lonely night with just that sword for company.”

“Poor chap, my heart bleeds for
you,” Lilla said, his tongue dripping with sarcasm.

“Quite. Still, I did have the
sword and the next day I took every opportunity to brag about it and told
everyone how famous a warrior I would be. In the end they got fed up with me
and told me if I was so good, why not catch a boar on my own. I said ‘I will’
and off I went.”

“Yes, I know that bit, what
then?” I asked.

“Well, I just went and found
Samlen and told him about the amber jewellery. Any fool could see it was
priceless and I knew that he would be interested. He told me to hide for a
while, in order that the company would be delayed returning home, then he could
sneak past us. He said that once the raid had begun, to come and find him and I
could join his warband and share in its riches.”

Lilla hissed.

“You betrayed your country!”

Hussa spat.

“My country! Don’t give me that.
I've never felt Deira was my country. There I had no past − thanks to
Cerdic’s family, and certainly no future. Here I can make a new life.”

At that point one of the Welshmen
called out something and Hussa answered in Welsh.

“Did Aedann teach you that?” I
asked him.

He smirked at that question and
shook his head.

“Oh, I’ve picked up a bit of the
language these last few months, certainly. One more thing, Cerdic − just
to show it has been worthwhile me coming here,” and he pulled out a silvery
object and twisted it. It caught the moonlight and reflected an amber glow.

“That’s part of my mother’s
earring!”

Hussa nodded.

“There should be enough here to
buy a nice house somewhere: slaves and whatever else I want. I would ask you to
say thanks to your mother, but you will never see her again, will you?”

“Bastard!”

“Yes, and we know whose, don’t
we?” He snarled and then turned and walked away over to the other warriors.
Samlen One Eye was now amongst them and mounted on a horse. He glanced towards
us then he rode across the parade ground and past us, followed by his
companies, which now included Hussa. They were marching across the parade
ground, not exiting via the southern gate − which we were facing −
but going past us towards the west or north gate; I could not tell which.

After they had gone wherever they
were going, the warriors who were left behind to hold the fort set a watch on
the walls and then most of them retired to their barracks. So, it was the case
that after half an hour we were completely alone: three miserable prisoners
left out to die in the wind and the rain. I twisted round and looked at my two
companions. Wallace was starting to shiver and he seemed to have drifted into
an uneasy sleep, disturbed by twitching and sudden moans. He was pale, sweaty
and looked truly terrible and I was certain he would not live to see the
morning. So, I turned to Lilla.

“We have to escape now: there are
not many guards. If we can get free from these bonds, we might stand a chance.”

“Not sure I’m going to be much
use,” the bard mumbled.

“Come on man! We have to try.”

Then, I heard the scuffle of feet
on the stony ground behind us, felt a cold blade touch the skin of my throat
and then someone spoke.

“Evening, Master, what are you
hanging about there for?”

I twisted around on the rope,
trying to see who it was, although I already recognised the voice. It was the
man I had come here to find and to kill. The man who had betrayed us ... or so
I had thought. Yet, now it turned out that Hussa was the traitor, but was
Aedann his partner as Hussa claimed? If what Hussa had said was true, was
Aedann coming to kill me now? Maybe ... or maybe Hussa had betrayed us to
Samlen, but Aedann had still taken his chance to escape and join his people. In
that case, Aedann might not be in league with him ... or there could be yet another
explanation. I needed to know.

“Aedann, that is you, isn’t it? I
whispered.

“Yes, Master.”

“If I’m your master, why is your
blade at my throat?”

The blade twitched, the point
moving upwards so I could now see it more clearly.

“Let’s just say I wanted a little
security before we spoke. I saw the look on your face when you were running towards
me in that village yesterday − yes I did spot you. You were going to kill
me, until that big oaf caught up with you, weren’t you?”

I twisted round further, so I
could just see the Welshman’s eyes and I glared at him. “Damn right, I was
− and I tell you what. You promise me right now that you did not betray
us, or I will come and kill you after all.”

Aedann laughed.

“You're hardly in a state to make
such threats and even if you were,” Aedann moved nearer and stretched up to
whisper close by my ear, “I would like to see you try!”

He raised the blade and I tensed
in anticipation of having my throat cut, but it moved away from me and upwards.
Aedann had stepped across to stand to my left and was reaching above me,
pulling himself up on my shoulder and then sawing at the rope. Suddenly, it
gave way and I found that my legs − numb and cold as they were −
simply folded away beneath me and I collapsed. With a cry of alarm, Aedann
overbalanced and ended up on top of me.

“Get off me!” I hissed and tried
to push him away with my hands, but they were as weak as my legs and had no
feeling, so it was a feeble effort. Aedann pushed himself up and then suddenly
crouched back down.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Hush − guards!” he
whispered.

By now it was full dark and the
clouds above us blocked the moonlight, so that the visibility was poor. I
peered at where Aedann was looking, but at first saw nothing. Then, appearing
abruptly out of the gloom, I could see two guards idling towards us, spears
rested over their shoulders and shields slung. They were talking to each other
and neither looked our way until, when they reached twenty paces away, one of
them glanced at us and cried out in alarm. By then, Aedann had leapt like a cat
at them and already had buried his blade in the throat of one. The first
warrior went down, blood gurgling from his mouth. The other man had a few
moments to react and swung his spear off his shoulder to lunge at Aedann.
Aedann deftly stepped to the side, let the point pass him and was now inside
it, closing in and then stabbing the dagger into the belly of the second man.
He gave a scream of agony and then collapsed to the ground, blood spurting out
of the wound. Aedann was on top of him now, one hand over the man’s mouth to
stifle his cries and with the other ... he cut his throat.

My slave, panting hard, wiped the
knife on the dead man’s cloak and then pulled himself to his feet and scanned
the nearby buildings for more enemy warriors. I held my breath, until it was
obvious that none were coming and then breathed out, slowly. It had taken
barely half a dozen half beats and two men now lay dead, whilst the fort around
us slept on: silent and dark.

Aedann turned to me and cocked
his head as he looked down at me on the ground.

“Bet you’re glad you let me practice
with you, now!” he said, then bent down and held out a hand to pull me to my
feet. The blood was flowing in my limbs now and I found that with a slight
stagger I could walk again. Aedann went to pull his hand away, but I held it
fast and asked him the question that was foremost on my mind.

“Aedann, what is going on?”

I had been convinced the slave was
the traitor who had told One Eye of the amber treasure. Yet, would a traitor
kill his own kind? Then, there was also Hussa’s confession. But, if Aedann was
not a traitor why had he run away? I opened my mouth to ask again, but Aedann
shook his head.

“Not now, we need to get into
shelter and hide. Help me cut the others down,” he added in a whisper and moved
first to Wallace.

As soon as Wallace’s hands were
released he slumped down with a moan and Aedann had to support him to prevent
him falling to the ground. I stumbled over, legs still weak and helped him as
best as I could manage. I could only just feel my arms, but as life returned to
them I was able to take over holding the still unconscious Wallace, whilst
Aedann went to release Lilla.