Manannan's Magic (Manannan Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  I started to run forward when I heard a cry. The rest of our men had come up and taken the villagers in the rear. Battle is a confused thing, a desperate melee of images, fear and sweat. You can never remember everything and, perhaps, that is good. I hardly realised a blow had torn a small hole in my arm until Knut thrust his axe over my shoulder. Blood spurted across my chest as he brought down my attacker.

  “Thanks,” I muttered to him and I swung around to see who else lurked behind me. For a moment no one did. A group of men had brought Eirik to his knees. I ran over and had two of them down before they realised I had arrived. Their killing blows never fell and Eirik managed the last one for himself with a backhand chop to the legs. He scrambled to his feet with his left arm hanging uselessly at his side.

  “Get yourself out of this,” I screamed at him, for a second more Celt than Norseman. “With one arm they’ll massacre you!”

  He grinned at me, his teeth white against the mask of blood and dirt. “Never! Odin is waiting for me at his feast.”

  I laughed. “Let him wait!” I put myself back to back with him, shielding him on his wounded side and we fought together. Five men came against us, but Eirik is a mighty warrior, even one handed. We had practised together many times before, so we knew exactly which way to turn and strike. Two died on our swords, two lay wounded and the last fellow fled away out of our reach. Eirik ginned at me and looked around for other opponents. Some of the huts were burning now and the smoke spread over us, stinging and making our eyes water. From the noise, the fighting had scattered across the meadowland, away to our right.

  I followed Eirik towards it. A tall dark man loomed out of the haze. He came at me so fiercely; he drove me back into the river. I defended myself as best I could but the shallows were full of small rocks that turned under my feet. I danced over them, hacking at him and well aware that, if I lost my balance just once, I would be dead. In the end it was he who slipped, not I. His blood turned the water crimson as I plunged my sword into his back. I left him floating face downward in the wavelets.

  I stumbled onto the bank, shook myself and hurried back towards the sounds of battle - Crack! Hiss! Crash! Clang! I stepped over bodies lying on the ground, some still, some twitching, one calling for water, another for his mother. I ignored them all. I was shaking with tiredness by now and my arm felt like a stone. I could hardly raise my sword. My illness had drained my strength. For the first time ever in a battle, I wondered if I would survive.

  The first thing I saw when I arrived in the meadows was my brother Dag hacking at Oshin. They were well matched, both tall and skilful fighters. For a few moments they traded blows and it was anyone’s guess which one of them would win. Then something seemed to distract Oshin and he glanced away, a fatal mistake. I was near him when he died, his head severed by a tremendous blow from Dag’s axe. Dag had seen his eyes flicker and seized his chance. The bones cracked as his neck split and his blood splashed into my face, blinding me for a moment. This nearly proved my undoing.

  “Get him!” Someone screamed, and I whirled as a man rushed towards me, his axe upraised. He never reached me. One of our people stuck out his leg and the man tripped and fell at my feet. I raised my blade to finish him off, but somebody cannoned into me from behind and shoved me aside. I staggered, trying to stay upright. I turned to come at him again, but I had no need. He lay on the ground in front of me with his chest heaving. I recognised Keir. He was stunned and unlikely to regain his wits for some considerable time.

  With Oshin’s death, the fight seemed to go out of the villagers. A knot of three still fought back to back. One fell with a spear in his leg and the others were quickly overpowered. Those who still lived were disarmed and herded into the stockade under guard.

  Dag was leaning on his axe, panting, watching everything and savouring his triumph. I went over to him, dabbing at the gouge in my arm.

  “All right, little brother?” he asked me in a voice that shook.

  “Cuts, bruises, no more. You?”

  “I’ll limp for a while. That fellow over there got me before I got him.” He nodded to another still figure lying on the grass with a chest wound rapidly turning black.

  “A great victory, Dag. Fadir will be pleased with you.”

  Dag grinned and clasped my shoulder. Then he shouted, “Leif!”

  Leif looked up and came over to us.

  “How many did we lose?”

  “Eight dead. Six who won’t fight again for a while.”

  “The others?”

  “Twelve bodies. Three who think they are dead and aren’t. Most of the rest have minor wounds.”

  “Prisoners?”

  “Sixteen so far and at least three sneaked away when they saw the fight was lost. Snorri’s gone after them with some of the others.”

  “Good.”

  The battle had been short and bloody. We outnumbered the men of the village three to one and they had never had much chance against us. By rights, these men should have run away, as their women did, but I gave them full credit for their courage. In their place, I would not have run either, whatever the odds. All men fight when their homes and families are threatened. Renny’s kin had fought bravely, but they were farmers not fighters, as we have always had to be. That’s why they never thought to fortify their village or keep a proper lookout. Their warning must have been short, only enough time for the women to get clear. At that moment I never thought about who had sent the message.

  The survivors had been lucky and most of them lived. We do not kill needlessly, only in battle or if a crime has been committed. A living man can work and has a value as a slave. As I walked among the prisoners, I recognised several of their faces. Among them was Mian. He was bleeding from the spear wound and he was trying to hold his torn flesh together with hands which were losing their strength. If the bleeding was not stopped soon, he would die. Renny had spoken kindly of this man. So I knelt, broke the head off the spear and pulled it out of his leg. Then I wound my belt tightly around his thigh and summoned one of our healers over to him.

  “I want this man to live,” I told him and he nodded.

  “I’ll do what I can but the rest is up to Odin.”

  I muttered a quick prayer. Saving this man was the least I could do to repay Renny and perhaps he might live to tell her.

  “Look what I’ve found,” Tostig came out of Oshin’s house, dragging a squirming child behind him, Renny’s young brother, Conal. It had to be, he looked just like her. Why had he been left behind?

  I strode over. “Let him go!”

  “The little imp tried to stick me with his dagger. I’m going to teach him better manners.” Tostig raised the flat of his sword and twitched the boy over his knee, but the blow never fell. I struck the weapon out of his hands and he let go with a yell, glaring at me.

  “What’s going on here?” Dag came up between us and pushed us apart.

  “I know about this boy. His father’s the one you took the head off.” I nodded over to where Oshin’s body lay spread-eagled on the ground.

  “So?”

  “He might be useful to us, but he won’t be if you beat him senseless.”

  “What use can a baby like him be?”

  “He’s the headman’s only son. He must know where the cattle are likely to be, and where his father hid his coin.”

  “So would most of these others.” Dag nodded to the rest of the prisoners, who sat under guard, roughly trussed up with ropes.

  “A boy can be made to talk easier than a grown man.” A feeble argument, but the best I could think of at that moment. I did not want Renny’s brother to be thrashed; I must be getting soft. Anyway, I had said too much to stop now. I turned to Tostig who has always been a friend of mine. I did not want to quarrel with him.

  “I’ll compensate you for the insult and, if you’ll give me the boy, I’ll double the money,” I offered him.

  “That’s fair,” said Dag, “what do you say, Tostig?”

  �
�Why do you want the little swine? I didn’t think your taste ran to boys!”

  “His sister’s the one I want.” As I said the words, I realised how true they were. “She won’t thank me if he’s harmed.”

  Tostig hesitated, and then he grinned and thrust Conal at me. “Well, if it’s like that! Take the brat, if she means so much to you. I hope he’s worth the money. He’ll probably try to spit you as he did me, especially if you try to bed his sister.”

  “Most likely.” I took a firm grip on Conal’s arm and hauled him past the others. We went a little way down the road and out of the village, away from their sight and hearing.

  “Why are you still here?” I asked him. “Only the men stayed behind fight us. Obviously, you had warning of our coming. Why didn’t you go with the rest of the women and children?”

  “What’s that to you?” He stood rigid with terror, but still defied me. He must have seen his father’s headless body, which was lying in front of the hut. I think he expected me to butcher him too.

  “Tell me!” I gave him a shake.

  “Shan’t.”

  “I’ve just saved you from a beating, you little scamp.”

  “I’m not going to show you where Father’s money is!”

  “Your father wasn’t a rich man. He wouldn’t own much coin and his cattle are easy enough to find. They’re big animals and not likely to go far away.”

  “I’m not going to tell you where the women are either!”

  “I don’t want you to say anything about them.”

  “Why should I believe someone like you? You’ve just killed my father!” Tears started to his eyes, and I suddenly remembered this boy was Oshin’s favourite child. They loved each other, obviously, judging from the boy’s despairing grief.

  “No, my brother killed him, but the fight was fair. Your father was a brave man. Dying in battle is the way he would choose to go. He is in Valhalla now, feasting with your grandsires.” Conal looked at me shocked and I remembered, belatedly, that his people did not share my beliefs.

  “Listen to me, boy, I’m going to let you go. Wherever the womenfolk are, warn them not to come back here. Tell them to make their way south. The king’s forces will protect them, even if they can’t drive us away from this place.”

  “You’ll follow me, so I can lead you to them!”

  “No. I’m going back to the village. You can watch me if you like, but don’t linger. If any of the others spot you, I can’t answer for what they’ll do.” I let go of his arm and turned around, leaving him free. Just before I reached the village, I looked back. The path was empty and he had gone. I hoped he would do as I told him.

  “What did you do with the boy?” Dag asked, when I returned alone.

  “I let him go.”

  “Why? To please his sister? Is she worth the money you’ll pay Tostig for him?”

  “I’ll tell you about her later.”

  “She’d better be worth it. The brat’ll cost you enough. Tostig won’t let you off the debt just because you’ve let him go.”

  “I don’t expect him to.”

  “You must have more money than sense then, to pay for something and throw it away.”

  As he turned to go, I noticed a tall man talking to one of the prisoners. I recognised him, although the years had aged him and his hair had become more white than red.

  “Dag, stop a minute. Is that Sétanta?”

  Dag nodded.

  “How did you find him?”

  “It wasn’t hard, Fadir knew where he was. Sétanta jumped at the chance to come with us.”

  “What’s he up to now?”

  “He’s been asking the prisoners if they would help him find his enemy. He’s offered them their freedom in exchange. The man he’s talking to said he knew where McLir was.”

  “Did he now?”

  The Celt had turned to face me and I recognised Keir. No wonder he had made the offer. He would be keen to see an end to McLir, even if he got nothing for himself, except revenge. I strolled over to them, for I wanted to listen. Sétanta looked at me quizzically, as I joined them.

  “I know you. I’ve seen you before,” he said to me, frowning as he sought after the memory.

  “I am Kari, Dag’s youngest brother.”

  “Ah, the man who sent me the message. My thanks. I’m grateful to you.”

  “What is this man saying?”

  “He’ll lead me to McLir if I set him free.”

  “And will you?”

  “Yes, if he leads me true. One captive is a small price to pay for what I want.”

  “Where does he say McLir is?”

  “In a cave up in the hills. He watched him entering the place one day, carrying a water jug. He didn’t go near or challenge him because he was afraid of his dog.”

  “He may not be there now.”

  “True, but I intend to go and see. I’ll search this island from end to end, if I can only meet up with the scoundrel at last.”

  “May I come with you?”

  “I’d be glad of your help, but why?”

  “I need to repay a debt I owe McLir.”

  “What sort of a debt do you owe him?”

  “Very similar to your own.”

  He laughed. “Come with me, then, and welcome. McLir shall pay my debt first, for mine is the older one. If he’s in any fit state afterwards, he can pay yours as well. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  27

  Renny’s Story

  We went where we had been told to go if danger threatened, up into the hills. There are hidden valleys, refuges for desperate people, known only to us. No one can stay there long for they are such bleak places. No one would want to, but they are safe for a little while.

  The road was long and hard for the old and the frail. My mother and the smallest children struggled, but fear gave all of us strength. We toiled up the steep paths, helping each other over the difficult spots. We dared not stop for a rest until we reached the top. Everyone felt sick at heart, for we could not help thinking about the men folk we had left behind. Would any of them be alive after the coming battle? We had no choice but to run; the old and the children could not fend for themselves. Also, we might distract the warriors if we stayed to help them. Yet we all found it hard to leave, without knowing what was happening behind us. We prayed, or most of us did.

  Dawn had broken when we stopped at last. A few minutes later, we discovered Conal had gone missing. Both Mummig and I thought he was with the older children. They had easily outstripped the rest of us. They sat waiting on some rocks, at the turnoff place, for us to catch them up. Conal wasn’t there and no one remembered him on the journey. Mummig immediately started to turn back to find him, but I stopped her.

  “Conal’s a fast runner and he hides like a wild animal when he wants to. He’s been told where we’re heading for, and he might even be ahead of us,” I said, trying to comfort her. “We’ve still a few miles to go.”

  “You don’t really believe he’s gone ahead, do you?” she challenged me. “Aelid and Jamys are faster and they’re here with the others. No one else is missing. Let me go, Renny. I must go back and find him. Remember how he’s always wanted to be a warrior. He might well stay to help his father and the other men. He’s no idea what a true battle’s like and no one noticed him as we left the village.”

  “He’s a far better chance of getting away than you do, Mummig. Don’t be silly. You can hardly manage to get up these hills at all. What use would you be to Conal, if you found him and collapsed? If anyone goes back for him, I will.”

  She looked at me. Although she said nothing further, the appeal in her tearful eyes was more than I could bear. So I got to my feet again, trying hard not to show my weariness and distress at having to retrace my steps.

  “Renny, I’m sorry, but you understand he’s only a baby, although he thinks he’s a man already. He’s seen fights with wooden swords and staves but he’s never seen anyone killed.”

 
I nodded. “I do understand. He’s your baby, your only son, and you love him.”

  “You love him too.”

  “Yes, and that’s why I’m going to go and bring him back to you.”

  I walked over and spoke to Fritha and Verona. “Look after her while I’m gone. I’ll return with him as quickly as I can.” I dropped a kiss on the top of Mummig’s head and called Shea to me. We started to run back the way we had come, before I thought better of my decision. I knew how foolish it really was. Conal might be anywhere at all. It would be as well to find a cotter pin inside a haystack!

  When I reached the top of a hillock, which gave me a view over the plain, I stopped and lay down. I wanted to find out what was happening, before I walked into any of our attackers. Captured or killed, I would be no use to either Conal or my mother.

  In the dawn light, the ships in the river stood out clearly, black shapes like carrion crows. They lay moored in the silver stream, their wings furled. Dust swirled in the air where men moved among the villages, far away from me. I tried to think sensibly about Conal. He might be still in our village. By now, he could already be dead or captured. I had a sudden image of his little body, all covered with his blood. I thrust the horrible thought quickly from my mind. Enough real horrors existed without me inventing more. If I did not find him anywhere else, I would creep back home and look. I doubted my courage, though, and I hoped fervently I wouldn’t need to do so.

  Two paths lead from the village into the mountains. One is long and twisting, the other is more direct and quicker. You can use either track part of the way. After that, you must branch off and walk through the undergrowth, keeping the mountain to your left. No one can follow you through the heather, because it springs back into shape behind you. We had used the shortest route and seen no sign of Conal. If he had left the village at all, he must have taken the winding path. Every child, once he is old enough to keep the secret, is told where to run when danger comes. Conal had been shown both routes two years ago, along with the other lads of his age. The winding path lay at some distance from me now. Oddly enough, it passed quite close to Edan’s cave. If Conal had been caught on the wrong side of the village, he must be on the path somewhere or nearby. I decided to start my search in that direction.