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

Ren passed the reins to Kewri and ducked back inside the hut. He returned moments later, strapping his weapons to Senara’s horse. “I’ve sent her along the cliff top path to scout the far end of the gorge. I shall ride alongside Tallack and make sure that he comes to no harm.”  As he mounted the bay mare, he addressed Kewri. “Stay here. Make sure Fur Benyn is protected at all times. Got that?”

The giant nodded, grinning with pride. His mission restored; he was happy to be useful once again.

I was less than pleased with this turn of events. While everyone galloped off to battle the miners, I was to stay behind as a prisoner. “But if there are injuries, I won’t be able to treat them. You can’t carry more than a couple of men down the valley at once.” I was almost smug with my quick thinking. Ren sucked in his lips. He knew that I was right. I needed to be there too.

Kitto was bellowing at the warriors. He praised their courage and fortitude, inciting a cheer that drowned out all other noises. If the Alchemists didn’t know they were coming, they did now. I shook my head in disbelief, but on Kitto went.

“We will show them which is the mightier clan within our tribe, those who are loyal to our people.” He took a breath while the hollering and whooping grew louder. “We’ll show them what happens to kyjyan traitors. We’ll ride hard and fast up that valley and show them what courage looks like. When we’ve finished with them, they’ll be grateful of the open arms of Cernonnus to carry them into the Underworld. They love hiding so much, let’s see how they like spending eternity with the shameful dead.” The roaring made the ponies skittish. They jostled and whinnied, adding to the general clamour.

Kitto unsheathed the dagger bestowed upon him as leader of the Head Hunters and held it aloft. “Ride now and take as many heads as you can carry. Let’s make them wish they’d never been born.” He yanked the reins of the stallion until it reared up and squealed. The beast’s mane swished across the warrior’s chest, its front legs kicking out in fury. Kitto held on tightly, drinking in the glory of his men’s admiration.

Lowering the oath blade, Kitto used it to point up the gorge, before jabbing his heels into the horse’s flanks and riding away. The Head Hunter’s followed the galloping stallion into battle.

“Where’s Tallack?” I said, snapping my head about in search of my nephew.

“We’ll find him. Come on, old girl.” Ren linked his arm about mine and pulled me up onto the back of Senara’s horse behind him. I pulled my healing kit strap until the bag rested on my hip and then clung to Ren’s middle as we set off at a canter. Glancing back over my shoulder, I saw poor Kewri break into a slow run after us. We should have told him to stay in the camp, but I knew he’d do all in his power to keep his word.

When we’d passed the first small incline in the track, we hit a thicket of dense shrubs. The warriors ahead of us fell in line, riding in single file and making it impossible to see whether Tallack was among them.

Undeterred, we rode on, passing some of the heavier men on struggling horses. I knew the tracks well, but Ren held the reins. Senara’s bay mare was sure footed and bright. As the trail hit a steep stretch, we cantered on while others fell back. Mists hung between the trees, being shaded from the rising sun. It made it harder to see to the head of the clan.

“The trail splits up ahead.” I warned Ren, unsure whether he was familiar with the area. As far as I knew, he’d spent much of his time on Tallack’s ship during the early winter, or on their trip over to Iwerdon. He pulled on the reins to slow our horse. Clambering up to the large patch of gravel where the path diverged, I spotted Tallack just ahead of us.

Kitto halted, taking the opportunity to turn his horse around to speak with the men. He seemed to have some sort of hierarchy set out among them, as though some were raised in status above others. He barked out his orders and half of the men branched off to take the low path alongside the river. The hooves rumbled on the hard baked earth, their ponies taking the brunt of twig and branch lashings as they powered through the overhanging shrubs.

Sweeping his arm over his head as though he was about to launch a rock, he signalled the remaining men to follow him. Ren waited, pulling back on the reins until we could see which direction our Chief would take. To my shock and surprise, Tallack chose to follow Kitto along the high track carved into the side of the valley.

On we pushed, through narrow and steep embankments and over wider and flatter areas until we were spread out among mature trees. The leaf litter and scree slowed our progression, forcing the ponies to pick through the undergrowth to avoid a misstep. Kitto drove on relentlessly, determined to have possession of the mines before the sun was high.

When we reached a flat area of woodland, a rockfall ahead of us narrowed the track substantially. It looked only wide enough to accommodate two horses to pass at a time. The broken rocks looked fresh, as if someone had deliberately caused the fall to halt our progress. Everyone could see that it was an ideal spot for an ambush. Kitto held his arm aloft, slowing all those behind him to a trot.

Drenched in sweat and spitting out gnats and dust, we lingered behind the