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

“Doesn’t matter. As far as the Hunters are concerned, all priests are the same.”

I sat on the bunk beside him and rested my weary head in my hands. We stayed like that for some time, lost in deep thought with no need to speak. For what could we say? We both knew that our family faced tough challenges ahead, and neither of us wanted to admit that Tallack was too inexperienced to meet them. He was not a cruel leader like his grandfather, nor a disciplined one like his brother. Instead, he’d embraced clemency before earning his reputation as a fierce warrior in battle like his father, Aebba. Without the respect of all the clans, he would have a short reign and a short life to match. What then would become of Cryda, little Delen and me? A shiver passed down my spine.

Ren saw me close my eyes and shudder. He lifted his arm around my shoulder and tipped his head against mine. “We’ll think of something, Mel. Don’t give in just yet.”

I wish I could say that I shared his optimism. With all the mismanagement over the last quarter moon, I didn’t think things could get any worse. He stayed until the meat and roots were cooked and for once, all four of us sat around a table to eat together. This was my own little family of misfits. How many moons had I left to enjoy them?

For most of the day, I had queues of incomers lined up at my door for healing remedies. The one benefit of having such warm weather was that many of the plants surviving the drought had seeded early, including angelica. I couldn’t trust Vina to pick the right plants, since they look so similar to some that are potent poisons. Instead, Kewri walked out to the edges of the marshlands to pick the seed heads ready to crush.

Many of those at my door were the mothers of lice ridden children. With a quick dunk in the stream and some soapwort rubbed into their hair, Ren set about shaving their heads before passing them along to me. I sprinkled the crushed angelica seeds on their skin and moved them along to Vina, who grumbled while she smeared any cuts and scrapes with plantain paste. By the time we’d finished, there was a whole collection of shiny pink scalped youngsters sitting on the grass squabbling over food scraps.

One or two of the mothers asked us to treat them too, until eventually, we’d shaved entire families. Whether or not the lice had spread, the whole procedure made us all itch. It was hot and tiring work. When all the seed was gone, and we’d sent the visitors on their way, Ren and I went down to the stream and dangled our feet in the cool water. It tingled and revived me, but I still felt grubby. Ren must have felt the same because he slipped off the bank and sat half-submerged in the tributary fully clothed.

I had to laugh. He cared not what other people thought. While I was distracted, he yanked me by my ankle until I too was laying on the stream bed. Spluttering, giggling and soaking wet. The moment of silliness cheered my old heart no end. Ren flicked and splashed water at me until others from the camp saw us. I thought they might jeer at us old folk having a bit of fun, but they saw it as permission to do the same. Before we knew it, Kewri, Vina, the elders, mothers, children and the camp dogs had all jumped in with us.

We frolicked about as though we were all half-addled by the heat until the stream was a giant muddy mess. That did not please those who needed fresh water for washing clothes or making their stews, but it did us all the power of good.

When the fiercest heat of the day had passed, Ren helped me out of the stream and together we walked up to my hut to let our clothes dry on our bodies. Kewri had built a fire outside the shelter rather than indoors. It kept the leftover food from our last meal bubbling gently. I find it odd that when you have no grain, you hanker for bread and porridge, and when meat is scarce, that’s all you want to eat. We had food in our bellies and that was more than some. There was a lot for which to be thankful, despite the bleak uncertainty ahead.

As the sun lowered behind the palisade walls to the west, Kewri went in search of his friends from the recruits’ tent, and Vina left us alone to talk.  I found that Ren and I had kept pace in terms of thinking about our worries and fears. The issue of Kitto and the Head Hunter’s couldn’t be put off any longer. When the warriors left their building work outside the compound and returned to their families, Ren decided that it was time to speak with Tallack.

The plan was simple. Ren had some ale stashed away. His intention was to invite Tallack back to his hut for a drink, where he would list the most pressing issues for our Chief to consider. Just before he left to find him, Ren asked if I would join in the discussion. My initial reaction was that my presence might make matters worse. The relationship between my nephew and I was less than amicable and any interference on my part might well be met with prejudice.

“Don’t say that, Mel. He loves you more than anyone in the tribe. He probably snapped at you because he knows you’ll forgive him. It must be a terrible strain to be a Chieftain at such a young age. He doesn’t realise it but he needs you.”

It was all I needed to hear. We walked to the centre of the compound and parted