The Last Saxon King by Andrew Varga

Author:Andrew Varga
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, fantasy fiction, time travel, mediaeval historical fiction
Publisher: Imbrifex Books
Published: 2023-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

The sun was a few hours past its highest point when Ceolwulf came riding along the side of the road, heading in the opposite direction from the huge convoy of riders and wagons streaming south. He slowed his horse as he neared the servant section where I was riding. We were near the tail end of the column of troops, just after the mercenaries and in front of all the wagons. With a stormy look on his face, he scanned each of my fellow riders until his eye lit on me “Boy!” he yelled. “Where is my spear?”

I hung my head as I reined in my horse next to his. “I left it at the last camp.”

“What?” Ceolwulf yelled, even louder than before. “Your job was to sharpen it, not leave it behind! What sort of fool do I have in my service? Go back and fetch it!”

“But that’s half a day’s ride,” I whined. “We took lots of other spears from the Northmen. Can’t you just use one of those?”

Ceolwulf leaned forward in his saddle and for the second time today backhanded me. “Do not dare talk back to me,” he snarled. “The issue is not the spear. The issue is your lack of memory. Now go fetch my spear so that next time maybe you will not forget it!”

Without another word, I turned my horse around and began to head back the way we had come, the laughs and jeers of the other servants ringing in my ears as I rode past.

I traveled for about five minutes until the path swerved and disappeared behind some trees ahead of me. About a hundred paces after this curve, Sam stepped out of the forest and motioned me over. I reined in next to her and leaped off my horse.

“One end of the rope is already tied to a tree.” She pointed to a coil of thick hemp rope lying on the road. “I’m going to take my position over there.” She took the reins of my horse and led it off into the forest.

I nodded and dragged the rope across the road, then covered it with a thin layer of dirt and dust to hide it as much as possible. When I was satisfied that it wouldn’t be instantly visible to anyone coming down the road, I found a tree with a branch hanging at about the height of a horse’s ears, then tossed the end of the rope over the branch and pulled it behind the trunk.

With my heart pounding in my ears, I stood behind the tree trunk, watching and waiting. Would this plan work? It hinged entirely on the rogue jumper actually hearing my phony altercation with Ceolwulf and then choosing to follow me. But what if he somehow missed our little scene? Or what if he’d noticed Sam sneak away earlier and had us figured out?

The rhythmic thump of hooves on the road interrupted my panicked thoughts. Around the bend, and through the trees, the black-haired mercenary was riding hard.

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