Fateful Voyage; A Tale of Albion - V

V


Caddan sat next to Red Donald and Sheymus, watching Sir Ward Wallace, standing next to the bonfire, speak with the one they called the Avalonian.

They were in the center of a village, up the coast from Fort Deliverance. The Griffons had sailed there to meet the enemy, under a flag of truce. The village itself was of a modest size, but filled with fierce warriors with wicker shields and spears. The Griffons were in full armor, weapons at their sides.

The Avalonian was a tall, otherworldly figure, dressed in a simple dark robe; he had long white hair tied into a braid. Caddan had seen few Avalonians before- the man's appearance was very striking. How he came to be in this land, he couldn't begin to guess. He was speaking in a deep voice.

"You are the interlopers here. Albion shall not have this land. Go back from whence you came, and tell your masters so. And take this one with you."

The Avalonian raised his hand, and two warriors entered a nearby hut. They returned, a familiar figure in between them.

"Lady Ulrika!" said Sir Ward. "What in the name of-"

"She was sent to persuade me to see Albion's side," the Avalonian smiled. "She wastes her time and efforts with me."

The Ice Witch said nothing, her face neutral. She was dressed in a richly-hued blue woolen dress with a matching cloak. Caddan stared at her, wondering where Her Pet was, wondering-

Sir Ward spoke up. "Caddan, Sheymus, escort Lady Ulrika back to the 'Victory' ."

Caddan and Sheymus moved to her side; Sheymus said softly, "follow us, Milady"; the Ice Witch ignored Caddan, nodded her head slightly to Sheymus. They walked off towards the ship.

As soon as they were away from the village, she spoke:
"There is a boat hidden in the cove, not far from where your ship is anchored. Take me there."

"Milady, Sir Ward said-"

"I know what Sir ward said," she almost spat the words. "There are two men waiting there who are in peril if they do not know that I am returning."

Caddan thought this over; he nodded curtly, and set out in that direction.

They ended up on the further side of the cove; a boat was pulled up in the brush just off of the beach. Caddan cursed and drew his broadsword when he saw the bodies sprawled, bloody and lifeless, next to it.

From the other side of the cove, horns sounded. Men yelled.

"Quickly!" Caddan said, running back the way he came. Sheymus drew his sword on the run. Caddan forgot the Ice Witch, forgot everything with the impending feeling of dread washing over him. As they ran along the shore, a Highlander in armor, bleeding from a cut upon his arm, crashed out of the trees near them.

"Carfryd!" Sheymus yelled. Carfryd looked around wildly, saw them, and ran to them, wincing in pain, gripping his injured arm.

"Bloody assassination! Someone fired a crossbow bolt into the Avalonian during the truce!"

Caddan's mind reeled. He thought immediately of Blackhand. Her Pet. Lady Ulrika was not to be seen.

"When he was struck, his guards attacked in a fury. Sir Ward went down in the first rush," Carfryd continued. "Red Donald tried to rally the men, but before we could form a shieldwall, they were too many. Griffons scattered, running for the ship-"

Along the beach, groups of warriors had emerged, running out of the forest.

"Back the way we came!" said Sheymus. "Let's find Lady Ulrika and take the boat out to the ship! We'll never make it along the shore!"

The three Highlanders ran through the sand along the beach, back towards the boat. They saw nothing of the Ice Witch, however. As they pulled the boat down towards the water, Sheymus called out.

"The 'Phantom!' "

It was the war-galley indeed, turning into the cove from the open sea. As they readied the boat, Caddan kept an eye upon the 'Lyonesse Victory' . He saw Griffons run out into the water, casting their armor aside, trying to make it to the ship. Others had jumped in the boats along the shore and were rowing; many others fought hand-to-hand with a growing swarm of warriors who surged onto the beach. Caddan cursed, burning with rage that he was not fighting beside the other Griffons.

As the war-galley sped swiftly into the cove, a gold and red banner was hoisted upon its mast- the flag of the Golden Lions. "What in the name of..." Caddan trailed off.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' had taken on some of the Griffons and was setting sail out towards the ocean. The ship's boats fished men out of the water.

What they all saw next caused them to stop what they were doing and gape in disbelief.

The 'Phantom' , rowing swiftly and under full sail, rammed the 'Lyonesse Victory' amidships with its long iron ram.

Men fell screaming out of the 'Victory's rigging. Men milled around the deck in panic as a volley of crossbow bolts was fired from the 'Phantom' into their midst.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' heeled sharply to starboard as it took on water. The 'Phantom' backed oars, raking the decks with more crossbow fire; its catapult and scorpion fired deadly projectiles that cut men down upon the deck.

"Bastards!" Sheymus yelled, and shook his fist. "The Golden Lions!"

A group of warriors burst out of the woods, and ran at them. The three Griffons turned to fight them.

Carfryd went down first, cursing; the wound on his arm had slowed him. He buried his sword in a warriors chest as he was struck down.

Caddan and Sheymus fought back to back; they had slain three warriors when still more figures poured out of the woods. Thirty men surrounded them. One man gave orders, gesturing, and the warriors reversed their spears, using the butt-ends of their shafts to beat the two men to the ground, through force of sheer numbers. They were disarmed roughly, arms tied behind their backs, and marched back towards the village.

As Caddan was marched off the beach, blood pouring from a scalp wound forced him to close one eye; with the other, he gazed upon a terrible scene.

The 'Lyonesse Victory' was sinking; bodies floated upon the water. The 'Phantom' could be seen in the distance, rowing out to sea. Upon the beach, dead Griffons were strewn upon the bloody sand. They had taken many warriors with them, Caddan noticed with a savage pride. There lay Red Donald, with six of the bastards ripped open around his body. Caddan laughed bitterly.

One of the warriors guarding him smashed his spear-shaft across Caddan's mouth, busting a lip and cracking a tooth; Caddan spat blood as he eyed the man evilly. He was prodded at spearpoint onto the path towards the village.

Caddan and Sheymus were brought before the Avalonian, who sat upon the ground beneath a tree; a woman dressed his chest wound with some kind of herbal broth and was bandaging him up. Before him on the ground lay Blackhand, a battered bloody mess. A moan came from his lips.

The Avalonian looked up at them, smiling grimly. "The Saracen fired true, but the Elder Gods protected me. I am their messenger, and Albion shall be cleansed from these lands." the fire of fanaticism was in his eyes.

"Tie him to a post; we shall see how long it takes a truce-breaker to die under the knives of the warbands." He gestured at Blackhand, and two warriors dragged him off. "Ulrika," the Saracen croaked in a pain-filled voice, a statement, or perhaps a question.

"She made it, lad," Caddan heard himself say, as if from a distance. He was beaten to his knees with spear-butts for his words.

"These two shall face the Gauntlet. Make preparations."

Caddan and Sheymus were marched to the edge of the village. Women and boys surrounded them, taunting them as they were stripped of armor and clothing; warriors argued over who would get what piece of loot. Caddan looked impassively straight ahead; his mind was far away. He thought of Trema, how her smile had always warmed him, how they had made love that last night in Cotswold, the look upon her face as-

"Hope Livia made it," Sheymus said, smiling at Caddan. His face was a mass of bruises from when he had fought his subduers with his fists and teeth.

Caddan smiled back at his oldest friend. "If anyone could, it would be her and her Wolf."

They both watched a double line of men forming, every one of them carrying a club. They understood what was to happen as they were shoved, clad only in loincloths, towards the gauntlet.

Caddan looked at his friend the last time and took his hand in his, squeezing.

"Sheymus, let's show em how a Highlander lives and dies, shall we?"

His closest friend, the man who had saved his life twice in battle, who had been there for him through thick and thin, always with a smile on his face, squeezed his hand in return, and laughed.

They both took off running fast, barefoot over the grass. The warriors were caught off-guard; the captives were running the gauntlet before they were told!

Caddan yelled, "Run like ye ran from that wench on the docks at Gothwaite, ye old horndog!" Sheymus laughed wildly as he picked up speed, outdistancing Caddan, his large body flying between the lines of men.

That is how Caddan remembered his friend; laughing in the face of death, so full of mirth that the bastards who beat him down with their clubs could not take away the man's spirit, even though they took his life.

Sheymus had ran ahead on purpose; most of the warriors rained their blows down upon the big man, as Caddan took less blows. Caddan was slammed with blows upon his back, his thighs, his shoulders; Sheymus, ahead of him, was beaten to the ground. As he lay face-down, the warriors continued to beat him.

"You call yourselves men!" Caddan screamed, shrugging off the blows, and crouched over his friend, shielding the body with his; pain exploded inside him as he was smashed across the head. He felt a bone break in his arm, and he fell forward upon Sheymus; but the big Highlander was already gone.

He couldn't tell how much longer he was beaten; he heard a voice say something in a language he could not understand, and suddenly, he was picked up and thrown down upon the grass at the edge of the village. He was battered bloody, every nerve in his body screaming; broken bones grated upon each other. He could not move.

He faded in and out of consciousness.

It was morning suddenly. Caddan lay where he had been left; a warrior stood over him, looking at him. When the man saw his eyes move, the man nodded at him, and said awkwardly; 'Brave, you.' He held a waterskin to Caddans lips. Caddan drank greedily, but coughed most of it up. He became aware of a terrible screaming in the distance; he remembered Blackhand, and then he passed out once more from the pain.