Hosker, G [Wolf Brethren 06] Saxon Slaughter Read online

  Saxon Slaughter

  Book 6 in the

  Wolf Brethren Series

  By

  Griff Hosker

  Published by Sword Books Ltd 2014

  Copyright © Griff Hosker First Edition

  Smashwords edition

  The author has asserted their moral right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

  Chapter 1

  Wyddfa 617

  Myrddyn and I visited the secret cave beneath Wyddfa’s peak each Midsummer solstice. It had been an annual event since we came to the land of Cymri from the last British Kingdom of Rheged. We both dreamed in its dark halls with our torch’s lights reflecting and dancing like fairies on the water which lay within. Sometimes the spirit of my mother came to speak with me and to advise me although lately it had been the spirit of my sword, Saxon Slayer, which had done so. Myrddyn had told me that the sword had more time to talk since we had had peace. Myrddyn was closer to the spirit world than I was. I was a warrior.

  There had been major war for the past four years since King Iago Ap Beli had been killed in battle and his son, Cadfan Ap Iago had ascended the throne. The young king had sought sanctuary with me and had served with my warriors for some years. He was now a fine warrior and the best king his people had had for many years. The Saxons had been given a bloody nose but they now squatted at the Roman fort called Deva which they had now renamed Caestre. And it was true we had had peace. My warriors kept that peace with their shields and swords. My mounted men rode in plain sight and armed to warn the Saxons of Mercia and Northumbria that we would tolerate neither invasion nor attack. It was not cheap to maintain such men and weapons but the price was worth the peace as the land around the Holy Island of Mona prospered. We had a healthy trade with other parts of the world and the dispossessed of Rheged still came, in dribs and drabs to settle and farm on the lands I controlled.

  Myrddyn had told me that Wyddfa smiled upon us for we kept the mountain safe and that was why the crops were so successful and why we had so many fine children born. It was true that we had never had such bounty before and I had never had four years of peace in the last forty years of my life. Yet lately I had been worried and I had looked forward to my visit to the cave even more than usual. We had, in the past, brought my former squire, Lann Aelle and my son Hogan. Both had been touched by the magic in the cave but this year I wanted the power of the mountain to work just for the two of us. I needed to know if the peace would last and I hoped for a glimpse of my future. Was I to be granted a peaceful old age?

  We had, as usual, eaten and watched the firelight dancing on the ceiling of the cave. The followers of the White Christ liked, I am told, to build churches with high ceilings to show the majesty of their God. I had seen one such church when I had visited Constantinopolis. For me, this cave was more magnificent. This was a natural church carved from the earth and it had more beauty than any man made edifice. After we had eaten we lay in companionable silence watching the flames flicker from the water to the ceiling and off the sparkling walls. It felt as though the very rocks themselves were talking with us. I felt a real peace. And then we slept.

  The waters sparkled and then began to bubble. A grey figure slid from beneath the waters and began to swirl like morning mist in the valley bottoms. It began to wrap around me and lift me. I felt safe and comfortable as I was lifted up. The night sky was clear and filled with a myriad of stars. Beneath me the land seemed, suddenly, further away. A voice spoke in my head and it was the voice of my mother. “This is the land that was Britannia and it is your land. Your work is not yet done. There are people who pray for your coming. There are people who need your coming. There are people who are dying while they wait. You must go back. The future is in the past. The past will have no future without you. Watch for a sign from the north. It will come and you must act. Trust your son. He is the future. He is Britannia.” And then I fell; I found I was spinning and turning. I was dropping to the earth and I tried to scream but no sound came. I saw the waters of the cave beneath me and as they swallowed me up all went black.

  “Wake Warlord. It is over.”

  Myrddyn stood over me. Myrddyn was a wizard and my adviser. He had walked the length of the land to serve me many years ago and was the only man, save my son, that I truly trusted. He held out his hand and I took it to rise. The light of the morning spilled like melted butter across the cave and made it somehow, warmer. The cave in daylight seemed like a sleeping giant as though it worked its magic while we slept.

  “She came again.”

  “I know and she visited me.” Myrddyn usually dreamed my dream. He always knew what was in my thoughts.

  “She is becoming more like you on each visit Myrddyn. She talks in riddles.”

  He nodded, “And that is how it should be. You are now older and wiser than when she first visited you. You know how to use your mind as well as your sword. You will know what to do when the time comes.”

  “But she said nothing of peace.”

  “Perhaps that is because the time for peace is not yet here.”

  We exited the cave and found our horses waiting where we had left them. Even though we were far from any settlement we had not feared attack. We had brought no guards. Here, in the heart of the land I ruled I was safe and Wyddfa would watch over me.

  We mounted and began to make our way down the mountain to my fortress at is foot. “She told you what she told me?”

  “I do not know Lord Lann.”

  I flashed him an angry glance. I hated lies and I hated being made a fool of. Myrddyn knew what I had dreamed. “Do not toy with me wizard. Speak plainly. I grow tired of your riddles.”

  He smiled benignly. He never let my words get beneath his skin. His skin seemed like armour and protected him. He knew many things. Some of the things he knew were impossible and yet he knew them. It was said he could read minds but he maintained he merely used his mind as a weapon.

  He shrugged, “I dream some of the things that you do Lord Lann but it is your mother who comes to us. I know that she wishes you to carry on the fight against the Saxons. I know that she wishes you to go back to Rheged but,” he spread his arms, “I cannot see how we would do that yet. Perhaps there is something we do not know. I am intrigued by this messenger. The messenger may reveal the future.”

  “Perhaps.” I had just had it confirmed that my wizard knew all that I knew.

  We left the forest and saw the sea and the jewel that was Mona glistening ahead of us. We had lived at Caer Gybi for the first years of our time in this land but the raids of the Hibernians which had nearly ended the life of my wife and young children had made me move them here, to the most protected part of my land. Here Prince Pasgen, the last son of the king of Rheged had built a fort and, across the Narrows, I had built another. We had moved to the mainland as I could protect my land and my family better than on the edge of Britain where pirates and Saxons could raid.

  The present King of Gwynedd was Cadfan. He had come to me as a young man when his father turned against him. I had trained him along with my son and we had helped him to defeat his father and gain his throne. He now ruled all the lands to the east
of us as far as Mercia. He and the other kings of Cymri, Ceredigion and Dyfed acknowledged me as Warlord. Many of my people had wished me to take the title of king but that I would never do. I had been given my title by King Urien, the last king of Rheged and by the Byzantine Emperor. I needed no other, Warlord of Rheged sufficed.

  “So wizard, what do you advise?”

  He looked surprised at the question. He enjoyed being enigmatic. It made others fear him but I knew him better than any living man. “Advise? Do nothing. We have had no sign yet either from the north or any other direction. When the spirits speak they speak from another world not bound by our concept of time and place. The messenger may come today or next year. We just have to watch and wait.”

  I laughed, “You are becoming like Brother Oswald.” Brother Oswald was a priest of the White Christ but he saw to the administration of my land and organised my armies. He was always speaking of mystical events. “You use these words to baffle the foolish. I am not weak minded. I asked for advice, now give it to me.”

  Sometimes Myrddyn was alike a naughty child; he needed a good shaking.

  He sighed, “In that case I will give it to you. The Saxons to the east can be contained by King Cadfan; in fact it will do him good to fight them without you as a crutch.” I flashed another angry look at him. I did not like being called a crutch. He gave a half apologetic smile and continued, “To the north… well we have heard little for the last four years although our ships say that they have begun to colonise the island of Manau to the north.” He shrugged, “Perhaps that is the sign but I do not think it is. My advice to you is to prepare to return to Rheged.” He saw my face becoming angry and he held a hand up. “That is not as simplistic as you take it to mean. If you are not weak minded, as you say, then you will know that you cannot leave your home and your people undefended. You will have to take a smaller army but one which can defeat the Saxons when they are found. Do you have such an army?”

  I was silent for a moment. I was annoyed for he was right. Infuriatingly, he was nearly always right. We had warriors who could defend my forts and castles and keep my people safe but if we took them all north then the Saxons would flood in like a spring tide. “That is good, Myrddyn. You have advised me. I will judge if it is good advice later.”

  As we descended the lower slopes to the coastal road I had had constructed I began to mentally plan what I would need to do. Despite my words with Myrddyn I was looking forward to action again. After the last battle when I had lost some of my old friends and many comrades I was tired of fighting and the action which accompanied it. I yearned for peace and time with my family. I had had that peace for four years and seen Nanna, my daughter, grow into a precocious young woman who was forever sulky and Gawan, my younger son, become an active and boisterous boy who was close to manhood. Many his age and younger served me as despatch riders and slingers. I had spent the last three years listening to my wife, Myfanwy complain about the home we had and the size of the rooms. Now I yearned for a different kind of peace; a peace in the world of men. And, to be truthful, I craved action again.

  I was a warrior. I had been a warrior since before I could shave. I had been killing Saxons for almost forty years and it was too late to stop now. I knew that my dream of a Britannia without Saxons was just that, a dream, but I clung on to it. I had never been defeated by the Saxons and that kept me believing that one day the island would be free of the invidious Saxons.

  I heard the sea to my left and that helped my thought process; it was a reassuring sound. It always calmed me. I had grown up far from the sea and it was one of the attractions of the land in which I now lived. The protection of the waters was mirrored by the protection of the mountain and the high passes. This was as safe a place to bring up a family as anywhere.

  I was lucky in that I had great warriors and leaders close to me. My son Hogan and my former squire, Pol, had both studied military strategy in the court of the Byzantine Emperor. Their men were dressed and armed like the Cataphractoi of the Emperor’s army. The Emperor had, in fact, supplied many of the shirts the men now wore. The equites or knights as they were sometimes called were few in number but had an effect on the battlefield way beyond their numbers. Lann Aelle, my nephew had also been my squire and he, too, had grown into a great leader. They were family. Prince Pasgen who was the last son of King Urien also commanded mounted and armoured horsemen but they merely had mail, swords and shields. Captain Tuanthal had been with me a long time and had been a young scout with me in Rheged. He led the rest of my horsemen. The Saxons deigned to use horses and we used that to our advantage. Aedh was the leader of my scouts and, although there were less than twenty of them, they were amongst the most valuable men in my army for they were our eyes and ears. I have lost count of the times they had saved me by their efforts. Finally there was Daffydd ap Miach who led my archers. The Saxons were using more of them but none could compare with the bowmen of Daffydd.

  We also had great warriors who could fight in a shield wall and behind wooden walls but I would not be taking them on my journey north. They would slow us down and weaken our defences at home. I glanced again at the sea and the island of Mona beyond. We had four ships and we could take an army north but we would be overcrowded. It was too risky and, besides, they brought great trade to us and therein lay our fortune. We were rich because we traded with other nations and we kept what we traded for our traders were also ships of war. The Hibernian pirates no long preyed on the ships of the Wolf Warrior. They had learned that we bit back!

  We had improved my fort over the years. The wooden towers were now protected by cow hides and we had strengthened our walls with earthen walls protecting the bottom. The gatehouses were complex affairs and could not be negotiated easily but our greatest strength lay in the weapons of the Romans which we used. The Saxons still called us Romans and used the term as an insult. We took it as a compliment. We had machines which fired bolts and machines which hurled stones or fire, whatever we chose. Brother Oswald and Myrddyn studied the old Roman books for the designs and had improved upon them. Much of our trade with Byzantium was to acquire those pieces of machinery which we could not manufacture ourselves. We even had the secret of Greek Fire and that weapon frightened all who had to suffer its devastating effect.

  I saw the signals from the towers and smiled to myself. The guards would be preparing Hogan Lann, my son; they would warn him of my imminent arrival. Perhaps I was a little strict with them all but it had kept us safe since I had fled Castle Perilous following the death of King Urien. The spirit of my mother was right; the job was not done and I would finish that job. That would be my legacy for the generations of Britons who followed me.

  They saluted us as we rode through the gate and twisted right to reach the second. “So, Warlord, have you decided upon your plan yet?”

  I laughed; I could see why people thought that Myrddyn could read minds. I knew his trick now; he knew people and could read people. Since I had spotted that trick I had begun to use it myself. I watched the way people looked and how they spoke. My people thought that I was becoming a wizard too. I did not put them straight. The mystery helped my reputation and I had learned that my reputation could be worth a hundred men on a battlefield.

  We had enlarged of the fortress by building the wall to reach from mountain to sea. It provided a barrier which would have to be reduced by war and it created a huge living space within. We had built barracks, halls and stables. We were very comfortable. They were not the halls we had used in the north or on Mona but had been built like the palaces of Rome with many different rooms in them. They all shared the same roof. In this way my son and Prince Pasgen could have their own families separate from the men they commanded and yet still be close enough to participate in the training and exercises. The result was we never stopped working at being warriors. Even though we had not had a major battle for four years we had not lost that edge we once had used so effectively on the battlefield. Men were sent to the frontier f
orts to garrison them and to raid Saxon lands. We went, not as they did, for slaves. We went to keep them under control and to take their weapons. Our blacksmiths could turn their crudely made weapons into magnificent tools of war. It strengthened us and weakened them.

  There were a large number of men gathered in the main yard and I saw a warrior with a halter around his neck. I frowned. This was not the way we did things in my fortress. I rode up and they all bowed. “What is going on here?”

  “My lord, we have captured a deserter. Prince Pasgen has ordered him thrown into the cellar until he decides what to do with him.”

  I did not like the sound of that. “In my fortress I make those decisions. Did this man serve here?” The guard began to answer and I snapped at him. “He can speak for himself can he not?”

  The guard quailed. I was not a man to be crossed, “Yes Warlord.”

  He took the halter from the man who fell to his knees. “My lord, my name is Kay and I served as a horseman in Rheged. I followed Prince Pasgen here and I became an equite. I fought for you on many occasions. I was a loyal and happy warrior but a trader who came to Caer Gybi last year told me that my brother and his family still lived in Rheged. I begged Prince Pasgen for permission to return home and find the truth but he refused. He said Rheged was now Saxon. It ate me up inside, Lord Lann, and I did desert but I have returned and I bring a message from the north.”

  My mouth almost fell open and I looked at Myrddyn who, true to his character, did not look at all surprised. He held his arms open and smiled knowingly at me. Had he known the messenger was already here as we travelled back from the mountain? He would never tell me. He enjoyed his secrets and his power.

  “Give this man his clothes back and bring him to my hall.” I glared at the two guards, “And treat him with respect. He is still a warrior of Rheged.”

  As they took him away I saw my son and Pol approaching. They had their bows with them and looked to have been hunting. They had heard the latter part of the conversation. “Trouble Warlord?”