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

Before I could express my grief, Nectan pointed ahead. “Don’t give up just yet, Fur Benyn. There she is.” His smile reappeared. “Can you see her on the rock face above the defences?”

In the shadows, shielded from the moonlight, I could just make out a slender figure clinging to an outcrop of rocks. “How in the name of the gods did she get there?”

My amazement triggered a little chuckle from my giant friend. It came as no surprise to him. She must have climbed right up over the side of the gorge, edged along the top and clambered down sheer cliffs and scree slopes to position herself above the mine. Was there anything this girl couldn’t do?

My breath came in short gasps as I watched her lunge between two overhangs separated by a sizable gap, until she was holding on with just her fingertips above the entrance to the tunnels. The guards were straining to see over the fences and paling walls a short distance from the mouth of the mine. They hadn’t heard her approach from behind.

“But how can she get to both of the men before she’s discovered?” I hadn’t realised that I was speaking aloud. Nectan shrugged, Kewri stood up and paced along the ridge for a better view.

It didn’t stop my loud musings. “Even if she could throw two blades at once, they would surely cry out. That would spell disaster.”

Nectan joined Kewri and me further along the peak of the gorge. The humidity was cloying, rattling my wits further still. Senara edged along the overhang by her fingertips, her entire body swinging freely in mid-air. When she was level with the massive rocks bolstering their defences, she kicked one leg up and hooked an ankle over the ledge.

“What’s she doing?” I couldn’t keep silent. Every anxious thought I had just tumbled from my lips.

“She’ll have planned all this out, Fur Benyn. You can be sure of that.” It was the first thing Kewri had uttered for half a day. I had to be content that he was right. Clamping my hand over my mouth, I sucked in air and held it while we watched the young woman hoist herself up onto the ledge and crawl to the top of the massive boulder.

From there, she slid down silently to the space behind the watchmen, slipping the blade between her teeth and unwinding the long leather straps of her sling shot.

“She’ll never fire that off without them noticing,” I stammered, leaning against Kewri for support. “It’ll make too much noise…” I barely finished my thought before Senara had loaded the ball of stone into the sling, whirled it about her head and let go with a snap of the wrist. One of the straps skittered free, launching the stone with such momentum, it caved in the skull of the guard.

He fell against the hurdles and posts, startling his companion. The young lad was too slow to react or yell for help. Senara was already poised with dagger in hand. The man opened his mouth to scream, but she was quick. Her blade slashed across his windpipe in an instant, spilling foaming blood down his chest as he fell.

The defences shielded her victims from view, but I knew that she would not have let them linger in their dying throes. She took a moment to check that they could no longer raise the alarm, before clambering up the walls and returning the way she had come.

In no time at all, she reached a high trail above the mines. Stopping low in the moonlight, she ignited a bundle of kindling attached to the head of an arrow with her flint.

The glow brightened to a full flame as she nocked it in her bow, and with her stance wide and proud, she pulled back the string and sent it high into the night sky. It seemed to hang suspended for a while, slowing its course before falling to the ground. If there were any stray Alchemists abroad, they too would have seen the signal, but none would respond to their cries. The five guards in the gorge were making their way to the Underworld.

Even if they could find a way to warn Kenver, we were too far into the plan to abandon it now. I clasped my hands together as Tallack, Massen and our remaining warriors crept along the river bank carrying the boards and planking to lay over the sand and rushes. There was no way we would fall for Kenver’s tricks twice. Picking their way through the dense undergrowth, they heaved the ladder-like contraptions over the gullies and thickets, ever higher into the narrow gorge, until they were just shy of the clearing. Hunkering down in the bushes, they waited.

I started to worry that Ren had missed the signal way up stream. Although I’d not seen the preparations myself, he’d described the huge pile of tree trunks, rocks and gravel that the men had amassed above the tightest bend in the river. The massive load was held back by two large stakes driven into the sandy soil.

All was silent and still once more barring the gush of the white water below. Kewri and I exchanged glances, baffled at the delay. Nectan returned to his rock and scraped out the bowl of his pipe.

“Should one of us ride along the ridge to see if Ren’s in trouble?” I said, directing my gaze to the idle Nectan. He pretended not to hear me, blowing out the charred weed until it whistled clean. My liking for that man plummeted in that moment. I grabbed my bag and slung the strap over my head. “Neither use nor ornament, the pair of you.” I muttered, but loud enough for them both to hear me.

As I tensed my muscles to slow my descent down towards my pony, a distant rumbling noise stopped me in my tracks.