Pagan Siege (Tribes of Britain Book 5) by Sam Taw (10 best novels of all time TXT) 📕

There was no harm in him staying outside, it was preferable to being indoors with the stifling heat making sleep so hard to achieve. I left him there, snorting and puffing with indignation. It suited me that he’d solved the bickering, but I did feel a little guilty that he’d been ousted from his home by Vina. If I could find a way for the two of them to get along, they could both assist me.

As we approached my hut, chatting about the process of extracting the pith from the willow bark for pain relief, she looked up into the sky and took a long sniff at the air. Her features fell into a contorted frown.

“What is it?” I asked, curious as to what her keen young senses had detected.

“Can you smell burning, I mean, more than the camp fires?”

I sniffed the air and moved to where it was the strongest. Further away from the hut, I could detect the unmistakable aroma of burning plants. It was not the sweet, mellow smell of seasoned logs, but that acrid stench when leaves, moss or heather catch fire. I looked to the north and saw a great plume of dark brown smoke rising up to the clouds and drifting out towards the sea.

CHAPTER FOUR

Vina came and stood beside me, head tipped back, mouth drooping open. “Is that some sort of signal you Dumnos use?”

“It’s too big for a signal. That’s wildfire.” With no idea how close the blaze was to camp, I thought it prudent to raise the alarm. Leaving Vina to deal with the supper, I walked to Tallack’s hut, making plenty of coughing and stamping noises to forewarn him of my arrival. “Ho there! It’s me.”

His response was quicker than I thought it would be. Virtually every time I appear at his hut, he tends to be otherwise engaged with Treeve. “Come in, Aunt Mel.” He croaked. I ducked under the drapes and found him laying across his bunk with just a small cloth to cover his bits. “You haven’t got any willow tucked in your pocket, have you. My head is splitting.” He rested his forearm across his eyes as though the late sunlight pained him.

One glance at him told me that his suffering was the result of his gluttony with ale the night before. “Water would put you straight, boy. Go and lay in the river like my pony. You smell like him too.”

Treeve tittered from across the hut. He was slicing up cold meat left over from the feast and splitting it between two bowls. I flicked Tallack’s ankle, encouraging him to move his leg for me to sit on the edge. As I lowered my creaking bones onto the bunk, I thought about which of my news was the most pressing, the idle Hunters relaxing in the forest or the billowing smoke from the north.

“There’s a wildfire not far away, I think it would be wise to see how close it is to our camp. The wind is blowing the smoke in this direction.” I waited a moment for him to react. When he said nothing, I jogged his leg.

“Yes, Aunt Mel, I’ll send someone. Now leave me in peace.”

I wanted to tell him that our tribe’s folk looked to him to keep our people safe, to provide a reliable source of grain and solid trade links. He seemed to be failing on all counts. The elders would give him a few days to grieve his brother, but that amnesty would not last forever. “I’ll send Vina over with some willow tea in a while. If you were sensible, Nephew, you would consider Chief Fane’s request to wed his daughter before midsummer. We worked too hard to achieve that alliance for it all to fall apart now.”

He lifted his head up from his bedding and glowered at me. “I know you mean well, Aunt, but don’t meddle in affairs you don’t understand.” His expression was fierce, his tone of voice sharp and hurtful. It shocked me. I hurried away from his hut, holding back the tears. He seldom spoke to me in such a terse manner. Why was this such a raw topic to discuss?

Every tribal Chieftain was expected to take a bride to secure relations with our allies. Tallack’s binding should be no different. His father’s wedding with Cryda, brought a long-lasting peace between us and the Cantii at the far end of the channel. Why should he be spared from doing his duty? My own past came back momentarily to check my judgement. Had I not done the very same thing when presented with a forced marriage during Cador’s reign?

I tried to avoid Vina on my return to our house. I didn’t want her to see the emotions welling up inside me. As it happened, she was fending off an emotional situation herself. While she stood outside the Long Hut in the middle of the island watching the fire smoke, some of the compound children gathered around her, jeering and spitting at her feet.

In response, she’d chased them away but I could tell that she was upset. Everyone knew that spitting at the feet of enemies was a Duro custom. To have it targeted back at her must have been the highest insult. Our tribe would take a long time to forgive the Duros for their killing sprees and attacks on our compound over the many generations. She folded her arms across her chest, hugging herself for comfort while she dashed into my hut.

I should have gone after her, given her the benefit of my wisdom, tended to her homesick heart, but I too was wounded. My chest was crushed by Tallack’s words. Instead of going home, I went back to see Ren. He was up and about, tidying his hut and sharpening his blades. It was good to see him with colour in his cheeks. He saw me through the open door and began pouring me a cup of ale before