Saxon Fall (13 page)

He suddenly looked interested. “You wish to buy horses?” I nodded, “There are none left in Britannia?”

“The horse breeding lands are in Saxon hands and they do not ride horses. Our stock needs rejuvenating.”

“In that case we can help you.  We trade for our horses with the lands of the Al-Andalus.” I frowned.  I had not heard of it. “They are the Arabs who have conquered the land to the south. We fight the same enemies, the Franks.  I think they believe that the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” He shrugged.  “It suits us for we have the fine Berber horses.  It helps us to defeat the Franks.”

“And would you sell us some?”

“We might but I would get to know you first. Will you and your bodyguards stay here for a couple of days?  It will take that long to repair your ship.  I was amazed that it made it into port.”

“So are we, it was
wyrd
.”

He laughed, “And that is something else which we have lost. The church says that there is no
wyrd
, it is all the will of God.”

“And is that not
wyrd
?”

He clapped me about the shoulders.  “I like you, Warlord, the next few days should be interesting.”

We were given the freedom to wander around town but I noticed there was always one of Caradog’s guards on hand to explain what we were looking at.  I did not blame him.  He was a careful ruler. I made sure that we visited the ship to make sure that we were being treated fairly.  Daffydd had a wry smile on his face when I asked him.  “Let us say the canvas and the wood we have purchased must be of the highest quality for we paid a pretty price for it.”

“Needs must, Daffydd. We have the gold and silver to pay for it. I think we might have raised our prices in the same situation.”

“Perhaps, although I like to think not.” I left my captain knowing that he would do all that he could to ensure the ship was seaworthy before we left.

Many of the nobles came to visit with us although the priests assiduously avoided us.  It was as though they would be contaminated through conversation and contact. We discovered many links in our histories.  The stories we told of our pasts were the same. That evening they threw a feast for us.  I suspected we had either paid for it by our repairs or we would be paying for it when we bought horses. However Caradog had us over a barrel.  Where else could we go?  We each took it in turns that day to tell the tales of our battles and our losses.  They became quite fascinated by the sword and its origins. The idea of a sword being dug up and then cast into the water hearkened back to a shared past.  Had the priests been there they might have cast doubts on the stories but the warriors knew the bond between a warrior and his sword was a strong one. We heard their stories too.  It seems that they had two revered fathers.  One had been the Warlord, Flavius Atius, who brought them from Britannia when the Romans left and the other was Caradog Strong-arm who seemed to have brought others over not long before my father was born.  It seemed we were closely related.

Caradog drew me to one side. “Tomorrow we will travel inland and visit our horse farms.  I should tell you, Warlord, that our horses will not be cheap.”

I nodded, “If I had wanted cheap then I would have stolen them from the Saxons.  I want good horses.  I want horses that can wear some armour.”

“I have heard of armoured horses but they are in the east at Byzantium and Persia.”

“I have visited there and seen them. That is what gave me the idea. Our horses are good but they cannot bear the weight of an armoured rider and their own mail.”

“You have brought your mail with you?”

“We have.”

“Then wear it tomorrow.  It will give you a truer picture of what our horses can do.”

We returned early in the morning to retrieve and don our armour and helmets.  Caradog was impressed with the quality. “We have nought as fine as this.”

“We modelled it on the armour of the east.  Our smiths are now skilled at making it.  We also have fine maces and long spears too.”

“You did not bring them?”

I shook my head, “They are only of use when mounted.”

“We would be interested in trading for them from you.  The Kings of Frankia do not like to trade with us. They prefer to war with us.  We have their captured weapons but yours are better.”

We were taken to the stables.  They only had spare horses there for three of us.  I took Pelas and Pol. Caradog apologised, “We do not keep many horses here in our stronghold for we like our horses to have the freedom to exercise.”

We travelled north for half a day.  Caradog had provided an escort of his own men. “We do not fear the men of Austrasia but sometimes they raid deep inland.  It is as well to be prepared.”

“Do you not have forts along your borders?”

“Aye we do but they are cunning and sometimes trick the border commanders.  They only manage that once for we are quick learners.”

In many ways they were in a similar situation to us.  We could block an enemy in the passes along the Clwyd but we were vulnerable to an attack from the sea.  I envied Caradog. If Aella had not made the mistake of landing so close to our fort then he might have succeeded in hurting us.  I would have to spend some time with Pol and Lann Aelle. We needed better defences.

The land through which we passed reminded me of the land around Stanwyck.  If we could only recapture that land then we would have the right conditions to raise fine horses. We rode up a gentle slope and when we reached the top we saw a huge field filled with a huge herd of horses.  There were fences around to keep them penned.  Caradog swept his arm around them.  “These are the young horses. We break them in as we need them.”

They were muscular and powerful looking animals.  They appeared to stand about fifteen hands high although some were a little bigger. “They are just what we require.”

“We will visit with the horse master. He lives in a hall just along the valley.”

We found stables and a small hall. The horse master was a sour looking individual who proved that looks sometime belie what lies within.  He was the friendliest of men. He saw my look of surprise when he laughed at something Caradog said, “I am sorry for my looks, Warlord.  They are the result of a kick in the face when I was young.  I have learned to avoid hooves since then.” He led me to the stable block.  “We have the best horses here.  I have my stallions.  These are the best five that we possess.”

There were three chestnut horses, one jet black and one grey stallion.  They were all kept separate. Macliau, for that was his name, spoke to them as though they were humans and he seemed inordinately fond of them. When he had shown them to us he asked, “Well, Warlord, what do you think to my beauties?”

“I think they are magnificent.”

He nodded proudly, “I always like it when the master brings visitors to see them.”

Caradog said, “The difference this time, Macliau, is that the Warlord wishes to buy one and some of your mares.”

He looked shocked, “I don’t mind trading the mares but I cannot lose one of my stallions.”

“Macliau, you are the guardian of these beasts.  They belong to me.”

I actually thought that he would weep but he merely hung his head. “Yes, master.  Which one would you like, Warlord?”

To me they all looked superb beasts. I could understand the horse master’s dilemma. “Macliau, you choose one for me.” He and Caradog showed equal surprise. “You are obviously closer to them than any man and you will know which the best is for me.  I would like you to choose.”

“You are being cruel now, Warlord.  I cannot choose.”

“Imagine then that you are buying one.  Which one would you choose to buy if you could have but one?”

“That is easy.” He went to the white one, “Snowflake here is the best.”

“So I should have him?”

He did not answer at first but he stroked its mane and its nose. “What do you want them bred for?”

“War horses.”

“Then Snowflake is not the stallion for you.”

He went to a chestnut. “Wolf here has broad shoulders. He is powerful.  He is not as fast as Snowflake but he can keep going with heavier loads.  Wolf would be my choice.”

I smiled, “Had you just told me his name I would have chosen him.”

The two men looked at each other and then at me.  “Why, Warlord?”

“Had you seen my shield you would have seen the symbol of the wolf.  My father was called the wolf warrior. I bear the wolf shield and lead the wolf brethren.  It is
wyrd
. We do not need speed we need endurance. We will buy him.”

“But I have not yet told you my price.”

“Caradog, I will pay the price you ask.”

“You are a poor trader then.  Why do you not haggle?”

“Because I believe in the gods. If you cheat me then I believe that
wyrd
will ensure that you pay in the future.” I shrugged, “Of course you do not believe in such things so name your price.”

“You are most interesting, Warlord.  I will not cheat you. Come we will let Macliau pick out your six breeding mares and we will speak of gold.”

When we returned to the fort we were all satisfied. I had seven fine horses.  It had cost me a small chest of gold but it had been worth it. I also gave both Caradog and Macliau a pendant each to hang around their necks.  I had had them made before we left.  They were a wolf with a blue stone for the eye. “But you have paid us Warlord, why give us the gift?”

“The gift is to seal our friendship.  We are one people separated by a stormy sea of Saxons and Franks.  This will remind you that there are others such as you. We believe that such a gift binds us closer than gold.” I shrugged, “You do not need to believe so long as we do.”

They nodded and I saw that they valued the gift.  Perhaps they stirred distant memories. I was pleased that Myrddyn had asked me to take some of my pendants with me.
Wyrd
.

That night the feast was even finer. A young warrior approached Caradog and spoke quietly.  Caradog nodded and said, “Warlord, this is my nephew, Llenlleog.  He has just finished his training to be a warrior.  He begs leave to visit with you and to learn of Myrddyn and the dragon beneath the mountain.”

“Is he not Christian?”

“Let us just say that my nephew has an open mind and has butted heads with our bishop before now.  I would consider it a favour and if you would grant it I will send another four mares next year.”

“You need not for I am happy to do the favour.  We always need equites who can fight.”

“Then consider them a gift from me to you to remind you of our kinship.”

The bond was made and, when we sailed three days later, there was sadness all around.  All that is save for the Bishop who was more than happy to see the pagans depart. I watched as he cursed us from the harbour wall as we left.

It had taken us two days to construct the stalls in the hold to ensure the safety of the valuable horses. We had prepared two but had not known how many we would be able to buy. Llenlleog was young but he knew his horses and he made sure that the animals would not be distressed on the journey north.  His own horse, Eliane, had been brought too.  Llenlleog chose to sleep in the hold with the horses. He had shaken his head and smiled when we suggested he might share the cabin with the other equites. “I will rest easier if I am close.  If they become upset I shall sing to them.”

That was how we knew when the animals were fretting; we heard the voice of Llenlleog drifting up from the hold.  He had a fine voice but more than that it was soothing. It proved effective each time it was heard.

Pol was happier about the new alliance rather than the horses. “It is good to know that we are not alone.”

“They cannot come to aid us Pol.  They, too, have their own war to fight.”

“It does not matter, Warlord.  Before we met them we thought that the world was Saxon and was closing in like the walls of a tomb.  We now know it is not.  Gawan and Myrddyn will make much of this.”

He was right, of course.  However, the negative side of me, the side which sometimes saw things half empty, also saw that both peoples had somewhere to flee to if they were overrun. I suspected it would be we who would be flying to the land the Romans had called Armorica.

The autumn weather proved to be precocious and unpredictable. Sometimes the wind was on our beam and we almost flew across the waves. The next day would see it constantly in our face and we would have to tack, endlessly, back and forth. When we reached the Scillonia Insula the winds were so bad that Daffydd was forced to take shelter between two of the larger islands. We anchored with two strong sea anchors. He turned to his first mate, “Go ashore and see if there is any water.”

I shook my head, “The equites and I will do that.  You and your crew have slaved for days.  Let them rest and we will do something useful for a change.” In truth we were all grateful to be off the pitching and tossing ship. 

Llenlleog came with us.  “I will see if I can get some grass for them to eat.  Even a handful each would be better than nothing.”

We jumped into the sea.  The sheltered anchorage and the ship itself afforded some protection from the waves but we were all well soaked before we reached the beach. There was a hill in the middle of the island and a few scrubby and stunted trees struggled to rise above the skyline. I pointed, “If there is fresh water then it will be there.”

As we headed up the hill I noticed that there were tracks on the beach.  The wind and the rain had made it hard to see if they were animal or human but both required caution. I drew my sword. When we reached the top Llenlleog found the grass he wanted.  He took off his cloak and used it as a container for the grass.  The rest of us searched for water.

“Here, Warlord,” Pelas voice drifted over from a cairn of rocks. 

We joined him and saw a small spring bubbling up.  Pol put his hand down to taste it. “It is good.”

“The problem we have is how to fill the barrel.”

Osgar smiled, “I would think, Warlord, that we use our hands.” He took the bung from the barrel and, after picking up a handful of water from the spring he poured it into the hole.

One of the other equites, Belas, said, “But that will take hours!”

Pol laughed, “And you have somewhere important to go have you, Belas?”

We took it in turns to collect the water.  The wild wind whipped the occasional flurries of rain into our faces.  Occasionally it would stop and on one of those occasions I caught a whiff of smoke.  I looked to the ship to see if it came from there but that was in the wrong direction. “I smelled smoke.”

“Are you certain, Warlord?  There is nothing on this bleak little rock.”

“Yes Osgar. My nose does not deceive me.” The barrel was almost full. “Pelas and Pol come with me.  The rest of you continue to fill the barrel.” Llenlleog had collected his grass and we saw him in the rocks collecting shellfish. He was a resourceful youth.

The island was about one mile in length and half a mile wide.  It was hard to see where any fire would be. We searched the island from one end to the other.  Even my old friend Pol was beginning to doubt my sanity. “Perhaps you wished for a fire to dry out your clothes.”

I heard the trace of mockery in his voice, “Perhaps. The next time this rain stops we will stop and sniff the air.” Almost as though I had commanded it the rain stopped and my two companions dutifully sniffed like a pair of hunting dogs.

Suddenly Pelas shouted, “The Warlord is right! I can smell smoke too.”

“Spread out and look down rather than up.”

We made our way down the slope. The equites filling the barrel were just thirty paces from us. I could see their curious looks. It was Pol who found it.  He waved his arm to attract my attention.  When we reached him he pointed to a jumble of rocks. There looked to be a hole there. I nodded and, with Saxon Slayer held before me I walked towards it. The closer I came the more I could see that it was a cave. That was where the smoke was coming from. It appeared to be pitch black inside; I had expected the glow from a fire.  I held my left hand out to find the walls. As the cave became lower, so that I had to crouch, so it also turned right and I saw a glow.  There was a fire and the smell of smoke was stronger.

A thin voice crackled in the dark, “You can sheath your sword, Warlord, unless you are afraid of one woman.”

I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.  Who was here and speaking my name? I edged forward and I heard the voice cackle, “Still afraid? If I were Edwin or another Saxon then you would be attacked already. Your brother would not be afraid of the dark or the cave.  Come we will not harm you.”

I felt Pol’s hand on my back.  I must have stopped. This was ridiculous.  I was the Warlord.  Was I truly afraid of a hole in the ground and a woman’s voice? I stepped forward ready to skewer anyone who tried to strike me.

As I stepped into the open space I saw the fire and the back of a woman. I remembered the cave we had found with the stone witches.  Was this place the same?  Then I remembered that Gawan and Myrddyn had survived a night there. The thought of my two mystics gave me the courage to step into the light. The woman turned around and smiled. It could have been Aileen’s sister!

She smiled. “Sheathe your sword.  You are safe. Tell your companions that I will not eat them either… yet.” She laughed and her laughter seemed to fill the cave.

I did as she had said. “You said we; where are your companions?”

“They are all around. This is the world of the spirits.” She smiled at me, “Your father’s spirit and your grandmother’s are both here. If you were Myrddyn or your brother then you would hear them.” She shook her head, sadly, “I am sorry you have not the gift.  If you had then it would give you comfort. Now sit.  Your clothes are wet and the barrel is not yet full.”

Pol and Pelas both had weapons drawn. “Put away your weapons my friends. It seems we are expected.”

There was a pot on the fire and the woman took a ladle and filled three bowls. She handed one to me and a wooden spoon.  “Eat.” She hand Pol and Pelas the other two.  I hesitated and she laughed. “You wonder if it is poisoned?” She reached over and took the spoon from me. She sipped some. “A little hot but you can always blow upon it.  Now eat.”

I took the spoon and ate some of the shellfish stew.  It was good. While we ate I studied her. I had said woman but she was barely that.  I took her to be seventeen or eighteen summers.  Had I not known that Aileen lay in the infirmary with a partly shaven head I would have sworn that she sat before me. She smiled at me as I ate. I put down the empty bowl.

“Thank you….?”

“You need not know my name. You were sent here to speak with me.”

“Who sent me here?  The storm drove us to shelter here.”

She nodded enigmatically, “Just as the other storm drove you to find your kinsmen and the horses.  Do not be so arrogant Warlord.  You do not decide your actions.  The spirits work in their own mysterious way and you are tools only.”

“Then why am I here?”

“So that I can speak with you and guide you. Your world is about to change.” She looked sad. “You are going to lose. The Saxon sea will engulf you. You have held them back long enough but there will come a time when you will be defeated. It will not be for some time but defeat is coming.”

My head slumped forward and Pol shouted, “Do not listen to her, Warlord, she is a witch and she is sent to trap you with her words.”

The woman stood and she seemed to fill the cave.  Her voice echoed around its walls, “Of course I am a witch! Just as Myrddyn is a wizard and I am on the side of the Warlord and our people!”

She subsided and smiled at me. It encouraged speech. “If we are to lose then why fight on?  Should we flee to our kinsmen?”

“No, for they will lose too, but there is hope and the hope is within you; it is in your blood.  Your father’s sacrifice was to buy time. You must use that time well. There will come another warlord long after you are dead and gone and he will recover your homeland.  Your blood will save Britannia.”

“But you say my blood; you mean Gawan and his children?”

“No, I mean your children. The spirits do not talk to you but they will to your children if you choose well.”

I was confused, “Choose?  Who?”

She did not answer me but, instead, closed her eyes. She began to speak, almost to chant and the words were not directed at me. “You are right. His heart is pure but his mind and his eyes are closed.” A silence filled the cave and I felt a chill creep up my spine. A voice from inside me said, ‘
Close your eyes
.’ I did not recognise the voice but it seemed familiar.  I did as I was told.  I saw, when I closed my eyes, a woman and she played with a child.  I saw the child leave her and grow until he became my father. He disappeared and then I saw Aileen. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and saw Pol and Pelas looking terrified.

“We thought you had gone! You went still and began to murmur.” Pol suddenly whirled around. “Where is the witch? Pelas take a brand and search for her!”

“No, Pol.  I can see now.  I understand. Let us go, our men will be worried.”

“But where is the witch?”

I shrugged, “I know not.  But I have had a glimpse into the world of Gawan and Myrddyn. We have much to do.”

As we made our way back to the ship I thought of all the questions I should have asked. She had said we would lose.  When? She had said my blood would save Britannia. How?  I would have to ask Myrddyn to dream again under Wyddfa. I now knew who the voice was.  That was my grandmother.  I also knew who would be the mother of my children: Aileen. I just had to turn the hate into something else.

Miraculously, as soon as we boarded the ‘
Gwynfor
’ with the water, grass and the shellfish the storm abated and we were able to sail north. Pelas could not remain silent and he told the others of what he had seen. Fortunately he did not speak her prophesy.  I would swear the two of them to secrecy.  If my men thought there was no hope then they would not fight.

“We saw no one leave the cave, Warlord.”

I shrugged, “Perhaps she was a messenger from the spirit world.  We will ask Myrddyn when we return. Osgar see to the water with the other men. Llenlleog, see to the horses.” When they had gone I drew Pol and Pelas with me to the bows of the ship. “You must swear never to reveal what was spoken in the cave.  It remains with us.” They both nodded. I took out Saxon Slayer and held the hilt towards them.

They both grasped it and said, “I swear.”

I sheathed it and Pelas asked, “But are we to lose?”

“Remember what Myrddyn said, the spirits do not speak of now but the future. We keep fighting and you two must watch over my children for they are the future too.”

“What children, Warlord?”

“The children I shall have, Pelas. And that is how I know that the end is not imminent for there are, as yet, no children.  But there will be.”

We tacked our way up towards Mona and we wore our armour. There were Hibernian pirates in these waters and we would not take any chances. I was relieved when the island of Mona loomed up in the early hours of one of the late autumn mornings. I would not have liked to take that voyage later in the year for the seas were, even now, becoming more violent.

Llenlleog took a great deal of time to ensure the safety of the horses when they were off loaded. I was pleased for it showed that he thought of them as valuable as we did. They looked the worse for wear when they stepped ashore.  Their legs shook and their coats were dull. It would take some time for them to regain their condition.  When the mares came into season then we would begin to breed. Although we intended to use the horses we had bought for the bulk of our herd I intended to use Wolf with the mares we already had. The line would not be as good but his blood would make them all that much better.  I would find horse masters just to watch over my most valuable of stallions.

We led the horses towards my fortress and the stables. We would base them here until they had foaled and then I would think about moving them close to the Narrows.  The land there was better for horses.