Gemini Thunder (25 page)

The group led by Bullwhip, driving their horses to the north, would double back around the far end of the Combe estate and link up with the second group led by Patch. They would then drive their combined four hundred or so horses over the solid wooden bridge that spanned the River Avon nearby at a place called Crew’s Hole.

The fourth group, led by Jack himself with Arrow by his side, would harry and ambush the chasing Viking as best they could as they made their way to the bridge. Baby Giant’s group were to join Jack’s as soon as they could. In the event of any problems, the bridge at Crew’s Hole, which Jack and his men had checked out the previous night along with the routes to be taken by the horses, was to be the rallying point. Once they were over the bridge and providing they had held up the Viking for enough time for the horses to get over as well, some swift chopping of the four main oak stanchions by everyone would soon send the bridge into the river, hopefully before any of the pursuing Viking got across. There was no other bridge or crossing point for many miles, so they would be well away by the time the incensed lowlanders found a way across. Should anything go wrong, everyone was to head for Tintagel Castle as fast as they could.

After the two sentries were taken care of by Arrow and Patch, Bullwhip and his men led their own horses quietly up to the first of the pens on the far side and cut the jute ropes holding the gates in place. Gradually the horses started to drift out through the open gates. Remounting, they began to gently herd them into a large group. At the same time Patch and his men were doing the same on the near side.

Just as Bullwhip’s herd began to break into a trot, their hoof beats muffled by the lush grass, a Viking staggered out of a tent and began to relieve himself right in the path of Patch and his herd of horses. Although it took some time to register with the Viking, he eventually realized what was happening and began to scream to his comrades. As he did so, Baby Giant opened the pens holding the Celts and they streamed out in their hundreds.

The utter confusion that Jack Cat had hoped for now took over with Viking, horses, Celts, and mercenaries all charging off in different directions. In the confusion Bullwhip and his men managed to drive their herd out through the trees at the north end of the estate as planned. Patch wasn’t so lucky and found his men and horses cut off by a line of Viking that had quickly formed to block his escape route west out of the estate. As he paused for a moment to weigh up the situation, the Viking line facing him suddenly broke into their usual screaming charge. Shouting to his men to drive the horses faster, they began to slap their flanks and shout. With everything going on around them, the herd spooked and leapt forward. Spurred on by Patch and his men, the herd surged toward the charging Viking. With close to two hundred panicked horses charging toward them, the howling berserkers didn’t once break stride.

And kept on coming.

As the lead horses neared the screaming invaders, some of them reared up with front hooves flying, only to be crashed into from behind by others. Viking and horses clashed in a catatonic eruption of flying hooves, caterwauling horses, and screaming men. The Viking left standing slashed and chopped at the thrashing horseflesh around them as they tried to clear a path to Patch and his men. Several of them succeeded, only to be cut down by the superior numbers of the mercenaries. The horses that survived the clash veered off toward the woods on their right. The anguished screams of dying men and smashed horses rent the air, with many of the Viking cutting down the released, weaponless Celts in revenge or thinking they were the attackers. Dismounting, Patch pushed his sword through the chest of a moving but badly smashed lowlander, then had to put his foot on the dead man’s chest to withdraw the blood-soaked blade. Baby Giant and his men joined them, and they began to fight their way through scattered groups of Viking emerging all over the meadows. Although Patch and his group failed to get any horses, they’d only lost a dozen or so men by the time they neared the tree line. Jack Cat and his men charged out of the woods to help them, and together the two renegade groups fought their way back to the trees largely intact.

‘Head straight for the bridge,’ shouted Jack. ‘Bullwhip will be almost there by now.’

Having a few thousand howling and very annoyed Viking after you certainly concentrates the mind, and they galloped at a breakneck speed toward the bridge at Crew’s Hole. Just before they got there, they caught up with Bullwhip and his men, who were driving their herd of horses with everything they had.

As the mercenaries and herd of charging horses drove onward, a bright, crescent-shaped moon came out from behind cloud cover and bathed the area in light. It also revealed the bridge stretching out over the deep gorge to the river below. Slowed by the herd of horses, the howls of the chasing Viking began to get closer as they gained ground.

‘Narrow the herd down to get them all on the bridge,’ shouted Jack. Patch and Arrow kicked their horses forward to obey the command.

‘Baby,’ Jack shouted. ‘Get over the bridge first with some men and start chopping the stanchions. Wait ‘til we’re all over before you collapse the thing.’

With tears streaming down his face, a situation that had prevailed since he first began this attack, Baby Giant let out a big sob, then kicked his big bay hard and signalled to four of his men to follow. In a flat-out gallop and with just a few yards to go before they reached the bridge, a strange thing happened.

The entire structure exploded in a huge orange fireball, sending pieces of wood high into the air. What was left of Crew’s Hole Bridge disappeared into the deep gorge below.

Baby Giant and his four men didn’t have time to react or pull up, and disappeared into the inferno where the shattered bridge had stood.

In disbelief Jack Cat and his men hauled desperately on their reins. It was too late to stop the galloping herd as they, too, disappeared right over the edge to the falling oblivion below, taking some of the mounted mercenaries with them.

With the deep gorge at their back and no other way out, the mercenaries turned to face the berserker horde rapidly bearing down on them.

As Jack Cat said, it was only death, nothing they hadn’t faced before.

For two weeks Freyja had been experimenting. She knew that defeating the Wessex veneficus would be difficult, if not impossible, unless she could match his ability to disguise his aura. He had a distinct and winning advantage in that he, and the animals in ligamen to him, could always locate and follow her every invisible move due to her telltale aura trail, whilst she had no idea of his whereabouts because his aura trail was invisible. She was also getting fed up with the antics of Guthrum and his chieftains, who had seemingly abandoned the fight for the winter against Alfred in favour of releasing young Celtic maidens from the pens and chasing them around the castle.

The old Viking astounder called upon every little bit of her ninety years’ experience in shape- and phenomena-shifting to solve the problem. If Merlin, Twilight’s old mentor and teacher, could solve it, so could she. In a quiet corner of the Combe Castle estate she re-ordered the physics of shape-shifting as she knew it and remodelled the scenery in her attempts to solve the problem. As a result of their ligamen attachment, her wild boar carried a smaller version of her own aura. Starting with short distances, she would send them off and see if she could change the phenomena as they moved through space between two points sufficient to hide their trail. Once she got to grips with the concept of replacing the aura trail with the clear air that was there before, it was then a matter of rearranging the space disrupted by the telltale aura to revert back to its original clarity. After losing dozens of wild boar who disappeared into the ether, never to be seen again, Freyja thought she had solved the problem.

Only a full confrontation with the hated Wessex veneficus would prove it, and it wasn’t long in coming.

Twilight watched Jack Cat and his men raid Combe Castle from high in the clouds. Going right into the heart of the Viking forces, albeit at night when they were slumbering drunk, spoke a great deal about the mercenaries’ courage and organization. What the Wessex astounder wasn’t prepared for was the thunderbolt from the sky that blew the bridge apart. He’d been constantly monitoring the surroundings and skies for Freyja’s aura and couldn’t detect it anywhere. Fully expecting her to make an appearance when the alarm was sounded as Jack Cat’s men made off, he’d been ready to counter whatever she did in order to help the renegades get away.

When the bridge went up, he immediately traced the thunderbolt trail back up to its release point in the sky. There was no aura around its original firing point, and yet in order to release the deadly missile she had to have been there. It was then he realized that the old harridan had also solved the telltale aura trail, and Twilight’s advantage had just been countered. The fight had just evened out. Somewhere up here she was hovering, as he was, preparing for more explosive chaos as the situation unfolded below, with two thousand Viking rapidly converging upon Jack Cat’s one hundred and fifty men. With their backs to a deep gorge that dropped into a fast-flowing river, the mercenaries had drawn their weapons and were preparing to die fighting.

Twilight made his decision.

‘Take the second bridge that appears behind you,’ he said loudly in Jack Cat’s ear.

With a look of utter surprise on his face, Jack looked over his shoulder as a bridge suddenly appeared where the last one had been. He howled at his men and pointed. As they spun around, this bridge exploded and another one appeared alongside it. With the Viking howling like mad dogs almost within spear-throwing range, Jack’s men spurred their mounts toward the second bridge as the skies opened up in a series of bright orange explosions. Knowing that Freyja couldn’t resist the temptation of letting off another salvo of thunderbolts at the first apparition of a bridge, Twilight put it there as a tempter. Sure enough, the old hag destroyed it with another salvo, and he instantly returned a couple of thunderbolts at her firing position. Twilight knew she would fire and move, so to keep her busy dodging around, he peppered the sky with lines of exploding thunderbolts. Meantime, Jack Cat’s men had all galloped over the bridge, and the leading Viking were also charging across the river on it. Twilight instantly withdrew the apparition of the bridge, and the berserkers disappeared into the gorge.

There was a cackle in Twilight’s ear.

Now you know the truth of it, foul rune-slayer. I am invisible as well. Non sum qualis eram. I am not what I once was. We will meet again soon and next time I will have your head. My earthshine is better than yours and, added to the Viking dedication to the death of our enemies, is a force beyond compare.

With a scabrous scream the old Jezebel’s voice was gone.

Confused and relieved, Jack Cat’s men pushed their horses to the limit until they had put a great deal of ground between themselves and Combe Castle. As the early dawn glimmered on the horizon, they finally made camp in a small forest. Slumping to the ground in exhaustion, they looked blankly at each other.

‘Where,’ said Patch, ‘did that bridge come from?’

‘Which one?’ Bullwhip scratched his chin, his cheeks running in blood where the branches had whipped across his face as they raced through the undergrowth.

‘The last one that we escaped over.’

‘It was a miracle. I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Arrow unslung a quiver of shafts from his back and dropped them to the ground, followed by his longbow.

‘I thought our time had come.’

‘Like poor old Baby Giant. The big fella never stood a chance. What was that, a lightning strike?’

‘Dunno. I thought lightning wasn’t supposed to strike the same place twice.’ Bullwhip stretched his legs. ‘You saw that second bridge first and gave the command. What d’you think, Jack?’

Jack gazed into the small fire that Patch had just lit with his flint box. He hadn’t said anything so far.

‘You’re not going to believe this,’ he said finally, ‘but I heard a loud voice.’ He pointed to his right ear. ‘Told me clearly to take the second bridge that appears behind me. That’s when I shouted to you lot to turn around.’

He shook his head in disbelief as he remembered the moment.

‘It was like a message from some sort of god or something. Then that other bridge disappeared, and the one we used to escape, the second one, appeared as if by magic.’

Sitting in a tree listening to their conversation, Twilight smiled to himself. He wouldn’t reveal himself and his role in their escape just yet, but this group of brave but rabid misfits could have an important role to play in Alfred’s resurgence. Edward de Gaini had been talking about training up a small force of good fighting soldiers as a special raiding force. A group to get in and out quickly, inflicting maximum damage on the static Viking forces. Well, training wouldn’t be required because this band of untrustworthy brothers already had all the attributes and a competent leader as well.

Two days later Jack Cat and his weary group arrived at Tintagel. Unbeknown to them, their exploits at Combe Castle were already common knowledge, and they were received well by none other than the king himself.

‘What we were trying to do,’ said Jack Cat later when sitting with Alfred, de Gaini, the baron, and Twilight, ‘was steal about four hundred horses and bring them here for sale. I figured that you could use some horseflesh as well as men. It wasn’t to be and I lost fifty of my own men. In the end we were lucky to get out of there alive.’