Amber Treasure, The by Richard Denning Read Free Book Online Page B

Welsh lands like nearby Elmet
and more distant Manau Goddodin, up towards the land of the Picts.
    “For, all these are in fact one
race and one people. Owain would unite them all and lead them against his
enemies,” Lilla said, standing in front of the fire, so that he again cast
disturbing shadows on the walls of the barn.
    “I cannot say in truth who their
intended enemy is,” he went on, “but my heart tells me it is we Angles he aims
to attack.”
    By ‘we Angles’ he meant slowly
recovering Bernicia, weakened and broken by civil war or Deira, the land of
farms and market towns, which had not fought a war in my lifetime: both
vulnerable kingdoms. Both might struggle to raise enough spears to oppose such
a horde; both were ripe for invasion.
    War was coming: my heart told me
that this was the last winter of my youth. Fool that I was then, I felt joy and
a desperate yearning for the glory of battle. Had I known what would happen
soon, I should instead have felt dread.

Chapter Five
    Hussa’s Grudge
    War was coming
and King Aelle had sent word that all areas should arm and train the Fyrd and
be prepared for battle, when and if it should come. In our area of southwest
Deira, the responsibility lay with Lord Wallace of Wicstun and he took to the
task with vigour. As well as the town itself, there were a dozen or so villages
like ours under his lordship. Each of these would be called upon to provide him
with a handful of warriors. The Villa and Cerdham contributed the largest
single contingent outside the town, with twelve men and boys old enough and fit
enough for duty.
    Wallace kept the local warriors
training while he gathered arms and equipment. He also sent word that there
would be a gathering of the entire Wicstun Company in a few weeks. My father
had agreed to hold this at the Villa where there was space for us to learn to
fight as one company. Prince Aethelric, the son of the King, was coming to
inspect us.
    This time of year was not a
popular one to be taking men away from the land as it was spring and a time to
be ploughing, sowing and planting. Wallace told my father that he had some
resistance to his call to gather at the Villa, but this summons had the
authority of the King behind it and come they would.
    Father and Grettir were
determined that Cuthwine, myself and the others would put on a good display and
so kept us practising late into the spring evenings, after the work on the
fields was done for the day.
    So, one evening in April −
the first month of spring when the rains came and the weeds grew fast −
Grettir had again gathered together the men and boys from the Villa. Some from
Wicstun had also been sent over to learn from the veteran. We were being taught
about spears and stood in an arc round him in a clearing in the woods, west of
the Villa. The day had been particularly hot and so we took shelter under the
outspread branches of an ancient oak tree, which Caerfydd had once told me
dated back to the years when the Romans lived in the Villa.
    “Whilst the sword is often the
mark of rank and wealth, it is the spear that defines a warrior. Slaves cannot
bear arms. If a man owns a spear he must be a free man,” Grettir was saying
looking at me, making me wonder how much he knew − or thought he knew
− about us and Aedann. He was holding a spear, made of ash and topped
with an iron head shaped like a leaf. The opposite end of the spear was capped
with an iron ferule.
    “There are two ways to use a
spear,” Grettir went on. He put the spear down against the gate and picked up a
mock version. He also picked up a shield and indicated that I should do
likewise. I assumed the normal warrior's pose and braced the shield.
    “I can hold the spear over arm
gripped about halfway down its length.”
    He raised his right arm straight
up and angled the spear end slightly downwards.
    “Thus, I can attack over the
foe’s shield against his face and upper body, or,” he said, dropping his right
arm down