The Half-Slave Read online

  Ascha ducked down. He could hear the sounds of revelry, drunken singing, guffaws of laughter, muffled voices.

  Someone shouted, ‘Hello my pretty. Come aboard and you can stroke my oar.’ Herrad laughed good-naturedly and, when the boat faltered suddenly, he imagined her taking a hand off the oar to wave.

  ‘We’re almost there,’ she said. ‘Tell me which is your ship?’

  He lifted the sailcloth and, almost immediately, saw the SeaWulf on the far side of the inlet, her mast lowered and the prow monster rearing with snapping jaws and glaring eyes. He felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of seeing Hanno and Besso. The SeaWulf lay on the far side of the inlet with her mast lowered, the prow monster rearing with snapping jaws and glaring eyes. Not a big ship, but beautiful and his heart swelled with pride to see her.

  He touched the girl’s knee and pointed. ‘Bring us alongside to landward so we can’t be seen.

  The boat turned, he saw familiar faces at the strake and felt his stomach flutter with excitement. Herrad ran the boat smoothly between the SeaWulf and the shore. Murmurings of delight when the crew saw the girl was coming towards them, and then the boat bumped, scraped and came to a stop.

  ‘You can come out now,’ the girl said and he could hear the nervousness in her voice. He threw back the sailcloth and stood up, blinking at the astonished faces lining the SeaWulf’s side.

  ‘We be of one blood, my brothers,’ he said. ‘Can I come aboard?’

  ‘Ascha! Is it really tha?’ they said, grabbing his wrist and hauling him up. The Theodi crowded around, slapped his back and shook his hand. He felt his heart lift. He was back amongst his own.

  Besso appeared, his meaty face jowled and stubbled with beard. ‘Ascha, come here,’ he boomed.

  They embraced. Ascha pressed his face into Besso’s shoulder and breathed in the smells of woodsmoke, sweat and the sea. The smells he had known all his life.

  ‘We heard tha’d been taken by slavers,’ Besso said. ‘What happened? And how did tha get here.’

  ‘It’s a long story,’ Ascha said, looking around. ‘Are there any Cheruskkii aboard?’

  ‘Na,’ Besso grunted. ‘They leave us well alone.’

  There was a stir and the crowd parted. Hanno appeared. He looked thinner, his eyes dark-rimmed sockets and his hair dry as old rope. ‘Hello, little brother,’ he said, smiling softly.

  They hugged and held each other and, for a moment, Ascha forgot why he was there. Hanno gently pinched his cheek and ruffled his hair and turned to grin at the crew. ‘Look, who it is!’ he said. ‘Our own Ascha.’

  Hanno called for food and beer and then there was a sudden stir. Hanno said, ‘But Ascha, who is this?’

  Herrad had climbed up the side. She stood holding on to a rigging line, her hair blowing in the breeze, more nervous than he’d ever seen her.

  ‘She is with me,’ he said. ‘Her name is Herrad.’

  Hanno welcomed the girl with a broad smile. ‘It’s the first time I’ve ever heard of a girl climbing onto our ship. Usually they’re doing all they can to get off.’

  They all laughed at that, even the girl.

  Ascha asked after his mother and Budrum and was relieved to hear they were well. Theodi returning from Radhallaburh had told her that Ascha had been taken by slavers. His mother had grieved, but Besso had told her that Ascha was strong and determined and would come home, as he came home before. Ascha bit his lip. He thought of his mother alone with her grief and his eyes filled.

  ‘Now tha’s here, tha must join us,’ Hanno beamed. ‘We are engaged on a great adventure.’ His arm swept wide across the fleet. ‘With Tiw’s help, the raiding will be glorious! There will be loot and slaves and wealth for all. We’ll not go hungry this winter.’

  Ascha searched his brother’s face for a flicker of guilt or regret, but he saw nothing. Hanno seemed content to let bygones be bygones. Above them, the sea-ropes cracked against the mast and the boat rocked. The wind was stiffening, the tide turning. The girl stood watching, as if ready to flee at a moment’s notice.

  ‘I can’t come with tha, Hanno,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Tha’s sailed before. It’s no matter if tha’s unweaponed. We can use tha on the rowing benches.’

  ‘No, tha doesn’t understand. I came to tell tha. They know the fleet is coming. They’re waiting for you.’

  The smile fell from Hanno’s face. ‘What does tha mean?’

  ‘The Romans and the Franks have raised their armies. The beacons are ready and the coast is watched night and day. They’re already marching to meet you.’

  ‘I don’t believe tha,’ Hanno said. He frowned and looked away.

  ‘It’s not a game, Hanno. Tha’s sailing into a trap.’

  ‘So tha says, little brother,’ Hanno said coldly. ‘But how does tha know all this?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter how I know. All that matters is that tha knows. The Franks say they will destroy the Saxon host to the last man. They say every village in the north will be in mourning.’

  The crew muttered among themselves. They shifted from one foot to another and looked at each other anxiously. Ascha saw their long faces and sensed their disappointment, their hopes of glory and easy loot dissolving before their eyes.

  ‘What does tha want, Ascha? What does tha expect of us?’ Hanno said testily.

  ‘Turn back! Go home! Raid Pritannia if you will, but tha must avoid Gallia.’

  Hanno scratched his arm and shook his head. ‘Na!’ he said. ‘It’s not true. He got to his feet and began to pace up and down the deck, his cheeks flushed. ‘I don’t believe it. It’s a trick, a filthy Frankish trick,’ he shouted. ‘Tha’s trying to deceive us. Radhalla would never make such a mistake. He told us that we would land unopposed.’

  ‘Hanno, it’s Radhalla who has deceived tha,’ Ascha said. ‘If tha goes ahead with this, you will all die. And it will be death without honour.’

  ‘Stop!’ Hanno screamed, cupping his hands over his ears. ‘Stop this right now!’

  The SeaWulf fell silent.

  Ascha gazed at Hanno with astonishment. He saw that he had blundered. He had assumed Hanno would be grateful for the warning and had given no thought to how his words would be received. He’d put his brother on the spot before the whole crew. He wished now he’d taken Hanno aside and spoken to him alone.

  ‘Tha’s right,’ he said evenly. ‘Radhalla would not bring you here if the raid was doomed.’

  Hanno jerked his head from side to side, his eyes sparking with suppressed fury.

  ‘Tha’s changed, Ascha. Tha’s not what tha were. I don’t know who tha is anymore.’

  ‘Tha knows, Hanno. I’m Ascha. I’m thi brother.’

  ‘What did they do to tha when tha was away? Is tha working for the Franks now, or maybe the Romans? Has tha sold thi birthright to those shit-eating scum?’

  He pointed an accusing finger at Herrad. ‘Or is it her?’ he said with a snarl. ‘Has she turned thi brain to mush? Taught tha to sell thi people to those who would enslave us?’

  The girl lifted her chin and stared back at Hanno, cool and unafraid.

  ‘She has nothing to do with this, Hanno,’ Ascha shouted. ‘It’s the Cheruskkii who have enslaved you, not the Franks. The Franks gave you silver and fed you during the starving time. What have the Cheruskkii ever done for us?’

  ‘Tha’s let me down, Ascha.’ Hanno said. His shoulders suddenly slumped. He looked dejected.

  Ascha appealed to Besso, hands spread wide. ‘Besso, for Tiw’s sake, tell him!’

  Besso lifted his huge shoulders and pulled the corners of his mouth down but remained silent.

  ‘Tha’s not wanted on this boat, Ascha,’ Hanno said. ‘Tha’d better go!’

  Hanno turned his back and with arms folded looked out to sea.

  Ascha raised his hands and let them fall with a slap to his sides. There was a cool breeze on his cheek and he felt a little tug as the SeaWulf pulled at anchor. The tide was turning. He was
vaguely aware of the girl standing by the side, watching him. He let out a little sigh and moved towards her and then turned suddenly to Besso.

  ‘Does tha think I’m a traitor, Besso?’

  ‘Na, lad,’ Besso said. ‘Tha’s doing what thi father would have wanted tha to do.’

  Ascha looked at him, grateful. ‘You know the Franks and Romans are waiting for you?’

  Besso rested his hand on Ascha’s shoulder. ‘I know, lad, but I gave Hanno my oath. We must all do what we have to do.’

  ‘But what’s wrong with him?’ Ascha whispered, glancing at Hanno. ‘He was always the gentlest of men.’

  ‘He’s not himself,’ Besso said. ‘Ever since Hroc’s death, he’s changed, in here,’ and he tapped the side of his brow with a stubby finger.

  Was that it, Ascha wondered? Was Hanno’s mind bending with guilt for Hroc’s death? Tha should a thought of that before tha hanged him, Ascha thought bitterly.

  ‘When do you leave?’ he said.

  ‘When Radhalla decides,’ Besso said, ‘but it won’t be long now.’

  They both fell silent.

  Ascha was downcast. How could he fight his own clan, men he had known and loved all his life?

  ‘Do you know where Radhalla will make landfall in Gallia?’ he whispered.

  Besso shook his head, ‘Radhalla is the only one who knows, and he’s not telling anybody.’

  Hanno stood by the prowhead staring out across the Rhine mouth. Even with his back turned, Hanno seemed lost, his dreams of leading the clan to glory unravelling before his eyes. Ascha jerked his chin at the girl and the two of them swung over the side and dropped into the boat.

  He grabbed an oar, and the girl took the other. He stretched his legs and pulled hard, no longer caring who saw him. As they moved off, he looked back. Besso and a handful of Theodi were leaning over the side of the SeaWulf watching them go. Ascha lifted a hand in farewell and Besso waved back.

  There was no sign of Hanno.

  They rowed without speaking, no-one paying them any attention, a man and a woman of less interest than a girl on her own. Whatever happened, he knew now there was no going back.

  Herrad said, ‘You’re different from your brother.’

  ‘Am I?’ He gave a sharp laugh. ‘I used to worship the very ground he trod on. I wanted nothing so much as to be like him.’

  ‘No, you are very different,’ she said. She thought for a while and then said. ‘You are stronger. And you do things for a reason.’

  They rowed past a large double-stemmed warboat. He knew the boat by its prow, a black and gaping-jawed dragon with a twisting serpentine neck, Eanmund’s work. It was quiet, the crew ashore or asleep. He could see a stocky middle aged man on the prow. The man unbuckled his belt and began to piss.

  They rowed on.

  He’d done what he could, he told himself, but it had not been enough.

  A gurgle of water.

  He looked at the man pissing and saw with a jolt that it was Radhalla. At the same moment Radhalla saw him. He held the dripping oar above the water and let the boat drift while he stared at Radhalla, and Radhalla stared at him. He wondered whether he should try to hide, or at least turn his face away, but he did neither. He was aware that Herrad had also stopped rowing. Radhalla acknowledged him with the faintest tilt of his head and then was gone.

  ‘Do you know him?’ the girl said in a small voice.

  He gave her a sideways glance. The effort of rowing showed in the pink tinge to her cheeks, the rise and fall of her breast and the slight parting of her mouth.

  ‘I know him,’ he said.

  He pulled, held his oar for a beat to adjust their direction, and pulled again.

  ‘Are we in danger?’

  Her face was expressionless, a tremor at the corner of one eye the only clue as to what she was feeling. They were moving faster through the water, although the tide was against them. Almost without realizing it, they had both picked up the pace.

  He nodded. ‘Great danger.’

  Canoes and small boats passed between ships and shore but there was no sign of pursuit. Only a matter of time he thought.

  They hauled the rowboat up the riverbank and pushed it into the reeds. ‘We must be quick,’ he said. ‘We don’t have much time.’ He held out a hand and she allowed him to pull her up. Her hand felt warm and dry to the touch. He knew she must be frightened but she did not seem troubled, and he realized that he accepted her calmness now, accepted it as part of who she was.

  When they entered the house, the captain and Octha were playing dice. Several Antrustions were asleep in one corner, and Lucullus and Tchenguiz were sitting with their backs against the wall. Ascha removed his weapons and poured some beer for himself and the girl. They both gulped it down and then he told them all what had happened. The girl went to Octha and laid a hand on his shoulder and he saw Octha gently pat her hand.

  ‘Did he recognize you?’ the captain said.

  ‘I think he did.’

  The captain shrugged. ‘Why should Radhalla care? He has other things on his mind than one escaped slave?’

  There was a coarseness to the Frank’s tone that Ascha didn’t like.

  ‘He will know that I went to see my brother,’ he said.

  Octha squinted at him. ‘What of it?’

  He realized that Octha had guessed all along what he would do. ‘I told him the Franks knew they were coming,’ he said.

  The captain’s face darkened. ‘You did what?’ He got to his feet, knocking over the bench with a loud crash. Ascha tensed as the Frank’s hand dropped to the long knife at his belt. There was a pause while everybody waited to see what would happen. The Frank scowled. He raised a hand in disgust, turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  ‘Why did you tell them?’ the merchant asked when the captain had gone.

  ‘They are my kinfolk. What was I supposed to do?’

  ‘They’ll track you down,’ Octha said quietly. ‘Herrad is well known in the village, and the Cheruskkii will link her to me. People will remember having seen Frankish troopers here. They’ll find you soon enough.’

  Ascha swore. He didn’t regret warning Hanno, but he’d been foolish to allow himself to be seen. Now he’d put the girl’s life in danger.

  ‘We have to leave,’ he said, getting to his feet.

  The Antrustions gathered their kit and left. Tchenguiz and Gydda went to the door. Lucullus moved cat-like to Ascha’s side.

  ‘You’re going?’ Lucullus said.

  Ascha nodded.

  ‘Just you and the Franks?’

  Ascha turned with a sudden spark of anger. ‘They won’t spare you, Lucullus. You’ve been seen with me and you could never pass for a Frisian. You’re coming with us.’

  ‘Worth a try,’ Lucullus said with a grin, and made for the door.

  Ascha picked up his cloak and threw it over one shoulder. He looked expectantly at Octha.

  The merchant shook his head.

  ‘I’m staying,’ he said with a twisted smile. ‘I’m too old to run away. You go.’

  Ascha sighed. ‘It’s not safe, old man.’

  ‘I’ll tell them I bought you from the widow, and the Franks came and freed you. I will tell them you forced Herrad to take you out to your brother. I’ve traded with these people. They know me.’

  ‘They also know you served in the legions.’

  Octha laughed. ‘Tiw’s breath! Half of Frisia served Rome. Along this frontier, we were the Roman army.’

  ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘What’s not to like. It’s you they’re after, not me.’

  ‘And Herrad?’

  Octha breathed in deep and let it out slow. ‘She stays,’ he said.

  The room fell silent. Ascha felt his colour rise. The girl looked at him and then at the merchant.

  ‘This is stupid,’ Ascha shouted.

  ‘Probably,’ Octha said, ‘all the same, she’s staying.’

  Ascha shook his
head. ‘You can endanger your own life, old man, but you’re not risking hers. If the Cheruskkii discover you and I are linked, Radhalla will not spare either of you.’

  The merchant gave him a long hard look. The girl moved across the room to the merchant’s side and laid a hand on his arm.

  ‘Go, Ascha,’ she said. ‘I will stay with Octha.’

  ‘You’re staying?’ he said harshly.

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘You go. I’ll be fine.’

  He saw the determination in her chin. So be it. He’d not been able to hide his feelings for her and the merchant, sly old dog, had seen what he had seen. She had made her choice. He jammed his seaxe and franciska into his belt and then turned and headed for the door.

  ‘Where will you go,’ Octha called after him.

  ‘South,’ Ascha said without looking back. ‘We’ll ride to Tornacum and wait for the Saxons there.’

  And he stormed out, slamming the door.

  24

  They rode out of the gates and took the trackway south, the Franks riding in file behind the captain and Ascha, Tchenguiz on a horse that belonged to one of the Franks killed by the Alani. Gydda and Lucullus followed on foot. Ascha looked back once and saw the girl watching them from the doorway.

  They rode in silence, Ascha lost in his own thoughts. The merchant had made it clear the girl belonged to him. Ascha was furious with the old man but even angrier with himself, he was to blame. He forced himself to think calmly. He had a job to do and was letting his feelings get in the way. He looked to the east where storm clouds stood high over the wetlands and then back to the west where the fleet lay. He pulled up and waited for the captain to draw abreast.

  ‘Captain, we can’t leave. We have to watch for when the fleet sails. And we still don’t know where the Saxons will make landfall.’

  The captain chewed it over and then nodded. Without another word, they turned their horses and rode back. Just short of the castellum they found a dirt track, light coloured against the grass, leading up a grassy rise. Ascha made a clicking noise and pulled the horse off the road, the captain and the Franks following. They came to a small stream and walked the horses across. On the hillside the trees were thick and leafy and hung low over the path. The Franks bent over their horses’ necks, cursing and muttering as the boughs scratched their faces and snagged their clothes.