Hosker, G [Wolf Brethren 01] Saxon Dawn Page 9

  “In that then we have agreement. I confess that I have been lucky in my combats up to now.”

  “You call it luck but I call it divine intervention.” I had noticed that Urien and his Christian warriors set great store by this god of theirs who seemed to be able to intervene at suspiciously crucial times. With our gods you made an offering and hoped they would intervene. Sometimes they did and at others, as when my parents were killed, you were ignored. “My son watched you at the battle. You commanded easily and men followed you. When your arrows were spent you and your brother joined the line and helped to destroy the Saxons. Did you know that you and your brother killed more Saxons than the rest of those on foot?”

  “How do you know?”

  “We found your arrows in their bodies and my son watched you and your sword. You have yet to learn how to use your weapon but when you do then you will become a warrior to fear. You will become the warrior that the Saxons will dread to meet and you and I will drive them back from whence they came.”

  I was doubtful about his interpretation of the events at the Roman fort for they seemed confused, even to me, but they set me thinking. My brothers and I had been lucky when the Saxons had first come for, had we been in the stronghold, we would have perished along with my family and we would not have sought the sword. Then the thought struck me that I had not gone to the house seeking the sword; we had gone seeking shelter. It was Wyrd which had drawn me to the sword; perhaps the king was correct but I was too close to see it.

  His voice lowered as he almost whispered in my ear. “You will become the champion of my people but first I need you and your brother to train up many archers. It was their success which won the battle. Then he can lead the archers whilst you and my son lead the foot. My horse warriors are feared by the Saxons but they know that if they use the shield wall then they are safe. The only way to break the shield wall is to use men such as you to smash into it and then my warriors can do what you cannot, we can run down the Saxons. Enjoy the feast and we will talk more in the morning but we will begin to train you with the sword.”

  Raibeart and Aelle had been politely talking to the others whilst keeping a sharp ear open for any of the conversation I had with the king. “Well?”

  “Well what brother?”

  “What was all that about? I heard the word sword a couple of times but what was the king saying to you?”

  I was acutely aware of the steely, hateful stares Bladud was giving me and I now had a better idea why; he coveted the sword and saw himself as the champion who wielded it. “We will talk when we are returned to the barracks. I promise I will tell all.”

  Now that I was no longer the focus of the king’s conversation others came to speak with us. We were strangers and yet we had helped bring victory. Ywain, Gildas, even the Queen, Niamh, all wanted to know more about us. I was deliberately circumspect when talking of the sword for I was mindful of the king’s words. It would not do to make too many enemies here.

  When the king and queen retired it was the signal for us all to return to our beds. As I was leaving Brother Osric, who appeared to have consumed much of the ale, took me to one side. “As you have been so successful at gathering booty I have taken the liberty of commissioning some yew for you to make bows as well as the ash for the arrows.”

  “Thank you Brother Osric. That was kind of you.” The Brother was obviously a man of influence and I intended to have as many allies as I could.

  He waved away the compliment as though it was irrelevant. “I would, when you have the time, speak with you and view the sword.” He cocked his head to one side and suddenly reminded me of a scrawny chicken we once had who had the same habit. “I am writing a history of the times and this would make a useful footnote.”

  I gave a slight bow. “I will make the time Brother Osric.”

  As we headed across the courtyard I gave my brothers the gist of the king’s words. Raibeart looked at me in amazement. “You, brother, a champion?”

  “I know. We all know that I am no champion but it means the king thinks highly of us.”

  “Yes and Bladud does not. Do not worry, Lann, we will watch your back. It will take more than Bladud to best the sons of Hogan.”

  The next morning we wasted no time in taking out our archers and slingers to the north field where they could practise. Raibeart and I had adapted the way father had taught us. It was basically repetitive work; I wanted them to have arms like iron bars and the ability to send arrow after arrow at an enemy. Our skill on the battlefield meant that we had ready and eager learners. Aelle, for his part merely had to give discipline to his brood although he too practised as often as he could with his bow. I gave my bow to Raibeart until his could be made when the yew arrived. He, in turn, gave his bow to the best archer we saw at the practice. I did not need the exercise although as I write this down I can see that it might sound arrogant but I was now taller than my father had been and I could send an arrow further than he. I also suspected, from my conversation with the king, that my days as an archer might be numbered.

  We saw an improvement by the afternoon and Ywain and Gildas joined us with their men. A trickle of new warriors was arriving daily meaning we never knew who we would have to train. Ywain strode over to me. “Can Raibeart handle the archers alone?”

  “Of course.” I wondered if this was to allow me to have the conversation with the king.

  “Good. My father has asked me to give you the chance to work on your sword skills with me. These are from the Roman times. They are heavy wooden swords. We found them buried beneath the fort when we took it over.” I said nothing but it struck me as wryd. “They make using swords seem easier after their heavy weight.” He handed one to me. I did not say anything to the prince for fear of offending him but to me it felt as light as a feather. “Here, try one of the oval shields we use. They cover more of the body.”

  As I hefted the shield I noticed how flimsy it was compared with mine. It covered more of the body but I wondered if it would stop an arrow as my own shield did. He looked apologetically at me as he said, “I have seen you wield a sword and know you know how to use one but the king insisted that you learn the correct posture and style.” He adjusted his own stance and I copied him. It was little different from the one I had used although I saw that his feet were further apart. I felt better balanced when I emulated him. He grinned, “Now just try to kill me and don’t hold back.” He put his helmet on and I copied him even though I did not know why. As soon as we started I discovered the reason. I had barely fastened my helm when he swung the wooden sword at my head and clattered a blow which made my ears ring and head sing. Had I not had the helmet I would have been unconscious. He laughed, “Always be prepared for any trick.”

  “Thank you for the lesson.” He advanced towards me and I punched with the shield and then smacked the side of the sword into his unprotected knee. He fell to the floor and I had the tip of the wooden sword at his throat in an instant. “Like that?”

  He stood, ruefully rubbing his injured knee. “Exactly like that.” He was warier now and circled me. I now knew that I had more strength than he did and as he hit my shield I had it confirmed. He had brought the wooden sword from a long way back and I hardly felt any impact. I swung my sword and hit across his shield. Once again he recoiled and barely kept his feet. I did not falter and I pushed with my shield as I hit his shield again. He had no control over the direction of the bout and was busy fending me off. As his shield dipped I swung at his head and, although he ducked, I caught the top of his helmet, which had a crest and it flew off.

  “Either my son is a good teacher or you, Lann son of Hogan are a natural swordsman.”

  Ywain came and clasped me around the shoulders. “I have taught him nothing father. I am just glad that we were using wooden swords or my little brother would have been your heir.”

  I heard a snort and turned to see Bladud’s sour face. “With respect my lord your son is a novice himself. Now if he had faced a
real warrior.” He pointedly emphasised the next words and stared hard at me, hate in every pore of his body, “Like me, then the outcome would have been different.”

  I knew that I would have to face him, one day, with a real sword but I was willing to try him with wooden ones. “If you would like to teach me then I am willing to learn.”

  Grinning he took the wooden sword and shield from Ywain who gave me a warning shake of the head. He had no need to worry; I would not underestimate this huge warrior. If he carried the standard into battle then he was both brave and skilled. I would have to use more skill and less brute force for he looked to be as strong as I was. I decided to let him attack and react to his blows. When he came at me I was surprised at the speed of his blows. Unlike Ywain he did not try to hit my shield but swung at my head and sword. He used his shield offensively as I did. I kept my feet moving as I parried blow after blow.

  “Getting tired village boy?” He pushed his face close to mine. “Just slink back to your hole now and leave the sword to a real warrior.”

  He was trying to make me angry but, as I watched my brothers and my archers drift over to watch, I decided not give him the satisfaction. I had observed that his blows came in flurries of five or six at a time and then he paused as though to recover. I used that to good effect. After the next flurry I did not wait for his attack but instead swung a blow, as I had with Ywain at his knee. He grunted in pain and his shield dipped a little. It was only a slight gap but I thrust the end of the wooden sword and it struck his nose full on. The blood spurted and he was partly blinded, I punched my shield onto his body and, already overbalanced, he fell. All of my archers cheered as did my brothers and Ywain. I turned to face the king who was smiling at me. I heard, “Lann watch out!” And all went black.

  I was dreaming and I had lost my sword. I was searching for it and scrabbling around in dirt. The dirt gradually turned into water and I was under the water. I could not breathe; I was drowning. Then I heard a voice, it was my mother’s voice and I saw her long flowing red hair before me. “Reach for the blade and it will come. You and the sword are one; you were meant to wield the sword from the water.” I suddenly felt calmer and I saw a sparkle in the black water. I reached out and touched the pommel. Then I heard another voice calling, as from afar, “Lann! Lann!”

  I opened my eyes and I was in a room which was painted white. Above me I saw the prune like face of Brother Osric. I tried to speak but he put his bony fingers on my lips. “Rest and let me heal you. Master Raibeart, your brother is awake.”

  The concerned faces of Raibeart and Aelle loomed above me. “We thought you had died. You have been out for most of the afternoon.” I tried to speak but the words would not come.

  Aelle held my hand. “It was Bladud, he hit you on the back of the neck when you turned to speak with the king. King Urien was very angry with him even though he said he was just doing as a warrior would do on a battlefield.”

  “Aye and Ywain said that was a lie because if it was a battle you would have killed him while he lay like a fish out of water on the ground. Bladud was sent away in disgrace and we brought you to the infirmary and Brother Osric.”

  I heard the priest’s voice. “You can rest here tonight and I will watch over you. He will survive. He has a head harder than wood believe me. Say your goodbyes and he will come to you on the morrow.”

  As Raibeart and Aelle came closer to me I found my voice. “Mother came to me in a dream and she gave me the sword again but this time it was under water. I think the sword can be commanded.”

  Raibeart looked confused. “What? Is this the blow to the head speaking?”

  “No and I do not understand it yet but when I am recovered I need to try something with the sword. Do not worry; he has not taken my wits. Now go and watch your brother. I will see you in the morning but guard my sword.”

  “We will.”

  Chapter 7

  When I was released by the Brother I went immediately to the barracks. The priest rose early to say prayers to his White Christ and I was able to wake up my brothers. “What time of day do you call this?”

  I kept my voice low. “The perfect time to test something about my sword.”

  Raibeart knew me well enough not to question me and he handed me the sword which I suddenly saw, as though for the first time. The king’s words, Bladud’s envy and the dream of my mother all made me curious. My brothers dressed and we left the barracks without disturbing anyone. We headed for the south gate and I could feel the unspoken questions from both of my brothers. We reached the gate just as it was being opened for the day. The guards looked at us curiously but said nothing.

  Between the fort and the river was a small lake, or a large pond. It was not perfect but it would have to do for the words of the dream came to me and the image of a weapon in the water. I took the sword off as well as my boots and I laid the wolf cloak on the ground. I just had the thin undershirt and leggings I wore beneath my armour. My brothers looked at me as though I was mad. I withdrew the sword and, without warning, threw it into the lake over my shoulder.

  “Lann! Are you insane?”

  I turned around three times and stepped into the water. If I could not find it quickly then the sword was not meant for me and my mother had been wrong. I knew that she was not wrong. When the water was up to my waist I stood and closed my eyes. I could see the pommel of the sword in my head. I lowered myself below the waters and I could still see the sword with my eyes closed; I knew precisely where it was. I reached out and felt the pommel and I lifted it and myself from the water. Later, when we talked of it Raibeart and Aelle said that I disappeared for the briefest of times and then the sword seemed to erupt from the water drawing me with it. Raibeart wrapped the wolf cloak around me as Aelle helped me with my boots. Strangely I felt no cold; I felt elated. The power of the sword had been demonstrated.

  As we entered the fort again, me dripping along the ground, the two guards looked at me with jaws dropping. “Did you just recover the sword from the lake?”

  Pragmatic Raibeart just said, “Of course he did. It is a magical sword and returns to its owner.” I nudged him in the ribs but the legend that became my blade was born in that moment for the tale grew in the telling. “You must name it.”

  Aelle ventured, “If it is a magic sword will it not have a name already?”

  We walked across the courtyard and I left a series of wet marks where the water dripped from me. “Aye, but as the line is broken between father’s grandfather and us we cannot know it.”

  “Saxon Slayer. That is its name for you slew Saxons with it.”

  “Let us just wait a while; the name may come, much as the sword came.”

  The name stuck and it remained Saxon Slayer for a long time and I did not mind the name for it spoke that which was in my heart and a sword is better when it is named. I had heard that, in the old days, warriors would have their blood forged in the steel with the sword and I could understand that. As I had held the sword and emerged from the water I felt such a rush of energy and power that I believe I could have fought a whole Saxon army. Perhaps that is folly for a Dane I met many years later told me of warriors who, when the rush of battle was upon them, would discard clothes and armour and fight naked until slain. It was battle madness. I hoped that the spirit of my mother would not allow that to happen to me.

  The barracks was alive with the sound of warriors preparing for the day. I was greeted with cheers for the men we shared our hall with had fought alongside us and we were more than comrades. They also had an aversion to the king’s bodyguard who looked down on the rest of the army as an irrelevance. My defeat of Bladud and his treachery had enhanced my status amongst the men.

  After we had eaten our early meal we donned our armour. However, before we could organise the men two wagons entered the gate and Brother Osric waved us over. “Your wood for your bows and your arrows are here.”

  Raibeart and I had discussed at length the making of the weapons. H
e believed, as I did and our father had before us that when a man made a weapon it became part of him and a better weapon because of it. The archers would make their own bows, under our tutelage, and then their arrows. The arrows were less urgent as we had neither tips nor feathers ready yet. The bow was the crucial element and would take many days to fashion. “Aelle, take your slingers out for some practice.” I saw the disappointment on his face. “But before you do, take the first choice of stave for yourself.”

  The disappointment was replaced by joy. Not every yew stave is perfect; in addition it should be the same height as the archer. As I waited for the archers to arrive he sifted through them, discarding the ones which were the wrong height and then eliminating those he thought were not perfect. Eventually he had one he liked and it coincided with the arrival of Raibeart and our archers.

  “My brother here has just chosen his bow stave. Notice that it is the same height as he is; see how the grain runs. He will make his own bow for he has been taught by us. We will give you your bow stave and, over the next two days, you will make, under our guidance, the weapon which will make you feared by the Saxons.”

  They were like children as they took their staves. I saw that Brother Osric had ordered plenty. When we had more recruits we would be in a good position to make them. “Raibeart, you start the construction. I will tell the king what we intend.” I beckoned him closer, “Besides he told me, the other night, that he wished to speak with me.”

  My brother, whose confidence had grown in leaps and bounds, said, cheerily, “Leave it with me brother.”

  The king’s chambers were in the same building as Brother Osric’s. Before I went to find the king I entered his office which was bare and functional. “Thank you for the staves and the arrow blanks.”

  He looked up in surprise. “I am merely doing my job.”

  “I know but I am letting you know that I appreciate the speed with which you did it.” He seemed, unusually for him, a little lost for words. “I seek the king he said he would have words with me.”