PAGAN SIEGE
Sam Taw
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organisations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2021 Sam Nash writing as Sam Taw. All rights reserved.
No part of this book, or any portion thereof, may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher or author.
Cover art supplied by Carantoc Publishing Ltd
First edition, 2021
ISBN 978-1-9163059-5-3
Carantoc Publishing Ltd.
www.carantocpublishing.com
Please note that this novel was created by a British author. Except for Cornish words, slang and dialogue, spelling and grammar are corrected to BritishEnglish. There are also scenes which may offend more sensitive readers. It is not deemed suitable for children.
CHAPTER ONE
I hated that crossing point. Every time I went near to the bridge over the River Sid marking the edge of our lands, I came away scared out of my wits or grieved beyond words. This time looked set to be no different. The new leader of the Durotriges sat high on his horse, wearing a frown that would give no quarter. I couldn’t tell if he was about to double- cross us or keep his promise.
For a little more than a moon, he’d kept my friend Renowden and his fellow Sea Warrior captive. They secured the Chief’s claim over a vast quantity of tin my nephew had pledged to pay. No matter how I twisted my neck to see past the long line of men on the opposite river bank, I couldn’t spot my friend.
A dozen fears erupted in a tangled mess inside my mind. What if Ren and Massen had been tortured for details about our mines or starved to death? What if they were killed without honour and the whole deal was just a ruse to leave my nephew vulnerable to attack on the bridge? These and many other possibilities crowded my senses until I could hardly breathe.
Tallack had insisted that all our men turned out in force, in case things turned sour. His Sea Warriors were well ordered and prepared to fight, but the Head Hunter Clan lounged near to their horses smoking hemp and teasing one another. It took three sharp barks at those idle layabouts from our Chief to garner their attention. This is what happens when they are left without a leader for too long. They grow bold and rebellious.
Even with my old eyes, I could see the Duros smirking. They were keen to lay their hands on our rare metal ingots. It was a handsome sum indeed and now that my nephew had seen justice done, when the Duros overthrew Brea and handed her over to us, he seemed reluctant to pay up.
It gladdened my heart that Tallack had not exchanged me in return for Brea that day, but I couldn’t help thinking that my nephew might choose to lose his two best warriors instead of passing over the tin due. That would surely undo the peaceful negotiations and set us back on the same troublesome path as before.
I held my breath as Tallack and two of his largest men led their horses onto the bridge. The Duro leader did the same, until they were facing one another, just as before. Tallack looked tense, but I was glad he was on his mettle. There was no way of knowing whether we could trust this new leader. He was just as likely to attack as consolidate the truce.
The two Chieftains locked eyes. I crept closer, weaving between my nephew’s men until I could hear them.
“I was beginning to think you’d never make contact.” Fane held his composure, before a broad grin spread across his face. He needed the tin. Despite the fact that we could ill afford his extortionate terms, I would have given double the ingots to get Ren back. Not that the original deal included him or his shipmate, Massen. The tin was in payment for the traitor, Brea, we just didn’t have the metal ready at the time of transfer.
“We had a few issues to deal with, otherwise we’d have been here sooner.”
So far so good. They were not snapping nor sniping. It all sounded perfectly amicable. Maybe the peace treaty would hold.
Fane looked at his men and then back at Tallack. “Did Brea die well?”
I couldn’t figure out why the man who took over her position would care how she ended her days, until I recognised an evil streak; that glint in the eye showing how they revel in brutality and vengeance. Brea was not liked during her short reign. She too bore all the markings of a vindictive leader.
“Let’s just say that there are a number of wolves who won’t need to hunt for a while.” Tallack’s face cracked into a smile and the pair of them snorted in shared amusement. It made me wonder whether Fane had fallen for her allure in the same way Tallack had.
When their mirth had passed, my nephew frowned. “We have the tin. I need to see that my men were treated well.”
Fane twisted on his horse’s back and nodded to the line of warriors, each holding a shield and spear. They parted, allowing two women in cloaks to walk forward. From their spry steps, I guessed them to be young, no more than fifteen summers, perhaps a little more.
Tallack squinted into the midday sun, shielding his eyes with his hand. “What’s this? Where are my men?” His raised voice unsettled the horses. They jostled and whickered, taking a firm hand on the reins to stop them from bolting.
Fane raised his hand. “It’s fine, your men are back there and unharmed. I simply wish to extend the deal.”
Tallack pursed his lips, but held his temper well. He must be well accustomed to slippery negotiations after all his summers trading our tin with foreigners and other tribes.
Fane gestured for the women to move closer to the
