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

“Don’t be ridiculous. Tallack is a superb warrior. He’ll beat any man in the tribe. Just you wait and see.”

When I suggested that she and the child leave to visit her relations on Cantii ground, she laughed in my face. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my home and my place is with my children. Honestly, Meliora. You were never this cowardly before. What has got into you?”

I didn’t answer her, there was no point. At least my conscience would be clear if the worst happened. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Treeve moving outside. Loitering in Cryda’s doorway, I squinted in the sunlight, watching him duck into Tallack’s stores behind the guard’s back. Sometimes I wonder why my nephew even bothers to put a watch over that place. His men are hardly on their mettle. Within moments, the young crewman flitted back out the way he came with a small jug in his arms.

Cryda was still mocking me when I left to follow him. I have never trusted that lad, especially after hearing him threaten Kerensa when she admitted that her end game was to become Ruvane and wife of Blydh before his injury. Treeve was fleet of foot, making it difficult for me to keep pace with him. Several times he glanced back to see if he was being observed. The first couple of times, I dipped behind a warrior tent or the empty grain store. When he hurried across the brown grass, there was nowhere for me to hide.

Straining my eyes to their fullest capabilities, I saw him approach Endelyn’s place. Here, he slipped behind the carved icons of the gods. For a moment or two, I was unable to see what he was doing, until he reappeared without the jug and wandered away. What is that boy up to? I should warn Endelyn. Treeve may not have killed Kerensa, but I had no doubt that murder was on his mind.

CHAPTER NINE

I ambled back to my hut filled with worry. Endelyn was nowhere to be seen. Even a cursory glance at the jug gave me no clues as to what he could have laced it with. For most of the day, I watched and waited for her to return, completing as many of my chores outside next to the shelter.

Vina was in one of her cooperative moods. “The priestess took your jar of valerian and some other bits she said she needed. Shall I go out and look for more to replace what she took?”

“Yes, that’s a great idea, Vina. Thanks.” The sooner she was out of my hair the better. She took Tallack’s dagger and a hemp bag and headed for the meadows through the western gate. It left Kewri and I to fall into our old routines. He fixed, mended and chopped while I stripped leaves, pulverized and mixed various ointments and tinctures. All the while we worked, thoughts of my nephew’s demise encircled my mind.

By late afternoon, Kewri came back from the wooded area at the western fringes near the pony enclosure fastening his belt around his leggings. “Fur Benyn, have you seen any of the new folk loitering about here?”

I walked towards his shelter drying my hands. “No, why?”

“Another one of your goats has gone.”

“For the love of Cernonnus. This is getting tiresome. There’ll be none left at this rate.” I fumed. “It’s no use. You’ll have to move your bunk back into the hut and take the goats into the shelter. It’s the only way we can keep them safe.” He grumbled and moaned, but even he had to see that he couldn’t watch them all the time. Those homesteader children were faster than lightning and experts in hiding from view. My poor goats would be sliced up and in a pot before sundown.

A little later, I saw Endelyn and Senara folding a long length of fabric outside their hut. Dropping everything, I hobbled down the boards to warn them of what I’d witnessed. They saw me coming and smiled.

“Isn’t this just the finest weave you’ve ever seen, Meliora?” Endelyn smoothed her hand along the material. “You can almost see right through it.”

“It’s lovely. I came to speak to you about…”

“Yes, I’m glad you’re here. You were telling me about the dyes, in particular the colour of that tiny banner on Tallack’s ship. I want that for my binding ceremony gown.” She handed the bundle of fabric to Senara who went inside their hut.

“What? No, as I said before. It’s not possible to achieve that colour without a particular sea snail.”

“Well, where can I get those? I want the ceremony to be special.”

I sighed. She was not going to let the matter drop. “A Phoenician Prince once told me that the snails live on the other side of the world. There is no such colour like it anywhere. You can have pale purple, but only when the elder or bramble fruits ripen in the autumn, or you can have red if you’re prepared to dig up enough bedstraw root to crush, but then Tallack won’t be too pleased if you do. His warriors rely on that. Your best bet is a nice bright ochre, as vivid as the sunset.”

She pouted. “And what would I need for that?”

“Alder bark, lots and lots of the stuff. It’s the inner part you need, so be prepared to get your hands well stained. There are plenty of those trees upstream along the river bank.” She had thrown me off my purpose. I almost walked away without telling her about the jug. Stepping closer to her, I lowered my voice. “I spotted Treeve here earlier today acting suspiciously. He left a jug behind the carved gods over there. Make sure whatever it is, you throw it away. I don’t trust that lad.”

Endelyn flitted to the carved trunks and