Pagan Death (Tribes of Britain Book 1) by Sam Taw

Author:Sam Taw [Taw, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Carantoc Publishing
Published: 2019-06-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was my only chance to rest. Tallack pulled in the oars and allowed the current to wash us down the Exe to the sea. The warmth of the sun thawed the chill in my spine and soaked into my face, but I could not rid myself of the feeling that something terrible would result from the old priest’s chant. I whispered to Jago to keep his wits about him, while I lay back on my fur bundle and closed my eyes.

The swish of the waters lapping against the boat, the call of the gulls flapping and stealing fish from the nets near the shore, all drowned by the noise of Eseld bickering with her daughter. There was nothing restful about being downwind of the widows of Aebba. Their constant need for drama was exhausting. How poor Brea tolerates their nonsense I will never know.

The sun was well past its peak when we drew close to the mouth of the great river. Tallack called to his men in the other boats, issuing instructions to steer into the deepest channels as the tide rolled out, sweeping in a giant bend through the delta and past the jutting headland. There before us were the great lengths of sandy shores, stretching all the way to the rocky outcrop, where the land turned a sharp corner. It gladdens my heart to see the light glinting on the waves. There’s something truly magical about the ocean. I can see why my nephew loves it so.

Tallack was all for putting in at the first beach, but I managed to convince him that I needed a particular plant from the grassy cliffs above Red Point. He grinned at me, recalling his fondness for the caves there, and shouted to his men to run the boats up to shore. I reined in my curiosity as to what he may have experienced in those caverns. He tends to save those tall tales for the evening suppers over the campfire.

When we reached the beach, the expertise of the sailors came into play, gauging the swell of the waves as they took the vessels up the sandy beach between the rocky patches to safety. Tallack's kindness, it seems, only extended to me, since he swooped to pick me up and carry me over the edge of the boat into the waiting arms of his crewman. As they set me down on the dry sand, I turned to see poor Jago struggling with his crutch and bandaged foot. He fell into the shallows and crawled for some distance on all fours to dry land.

With the boat ropes staked into the ground above the high-water mark, Tallack ordered his men to make camp, while he returned to the second boat for his mother. Cryda’s exit from her craft was significantly more elegant than mine. Her flowing gown dipped into the sea giving her all the appearance of a goddess. Tallack’s men were less kind towards Eseld, leaving her and little Derwa to wade to shore, carrying their own bundles of belongings with them.

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