Replaced by rapid hoofbeats.Was thatworse?Cai half-fell back out onto the track.A violent four-timepercussion… He didn’t think he could live with that.With relief herealised the sounds were coming from the hillside above him.One ofBroc’s wild little warhorses was being driven down over the turf.They’d have made a Roman soldier laugh, Cai suspected, but in theirown right they were grand beasts, crossbred down with native poniesthrough the centuries and still showing some of their imperialblood.An eye for horseflesh was one of the things Cai had beenmeant to leave behind him in the outer world, but still he watchedappreciatively as the horse and cart approached.
No, not a cart.Cai wiped his eyesagain, in disbelief this time.Jouncing behind the pony, catchingdull flashes of sun on its ancient bronze fittings, was one ofBroc’s chariots.He had three of them, his legacy from his ownfather’s grandfather.Broc swore they were original and had seenaction up near Hadrian’s great wall, but Cai reckoned that, likethe horse, they were inventive copies.The wheels were broad andtough, better fitted to hillsides than old Roman pavements.Theirframes were gaudy with low-relief bronze plates of goddesseswalloping nine shades of hell out of a more recent enemy—wide-eyedfigures who looked like the very Saxons who had since settledpeacefully here, established monasteries and sent their beautifulsons to lighten the lives of men like Cai.“Leof,” he whispered,wondering if the name would ever be out of his mind, off histongue.
Maybe the loss of him had finallyunseated Cai’s reason.Broc valued these chariots more than hiscows and his women put together.They seldom saw the light of day,and were never sent out on errands.Still unsteady, he steppedforwards to meet the driver, a skinny lad struggling for control.“Whoa!Pull her up, pull her up.What’s all this?”
“Broccus sent me after you.He says…” The boy hauled back hard on the snorting pony’s reins,and Cai took hold of the harness.“He says you’re to have theweapons you asked for.He also said…” Frowning, the boy repeatedhis script.“There’s little point, because you and yourskirt-wearing friends will probably just chop your feet off, butyou’re welcome.”
Cai looked into the willow containersstrapped to the chariot’s frame.About twenty broadswords had beenroughly packed inside, together with a selection of rusted shields.“He said I was to have all these?”
“Yes.The horse and chariottoo.He also said you could have me.”
Cai had no doubt in what capacity.“That’s nice.How old are you?”The boy looked blank, and heclarified, “How many summers?Since you graced this world with yourbeing?”
“Oh.Fourteen or so, Ithink.”
“Well, go back and haveabout ten more.”
“What?You’ll be an old manby then!”
Cai shook his head.He reached up andlifted the boy from his perch.Springing onto the board in hisplace, he took up the reins.They were soft and worn and came moresweetly to his hands than befitted a humble follower of Christ.Hecouldn’t help but think how much faster he would cover the groundbetween here and the monastery now.He smelled fresh bread andnoticed the satchel of provisions his unpredictable father had alsopacked in among the swords.Some of his sickness and grief hadreceded.His imagination pounced forwards to how it would feel tobring a Briton’s broadsword slicing down onto a Viking’s hairyskull.
“Tell Broccus I’mgrateful,” he said.“Very.”It struck him that Broc had picked outfor him a lad with fair hair and eyes as close to blue as the stockof the inland strongholds ever showed.He shivered.“Be sure andtell him I wasn’t dissatisfied with you.I can’t take anyone backwith me, and…I’m done with that kind of thing.That’sall.”
He shook the reins.The pony dancedaround, making the harness jingle.Cai had only driven a handful oftimes, Broc cursing him and bawling out instructions, but he foundhis balance easily, measuring tension on the reins where they ranthrough the loops.The boy stepped out of the way, and he drove thechariot sharply forwards, lifting his face to meet thewind.
A mile north of Fara, Oslaf appeared,blue around the lips from desperate running.As soon as Cai sawhim, he set the warhorse to a gallop.He’d instructed Benedict aswell as he could in the care of the injured men, but knew heshouldn’t have left them.Nothing—not even life—had seemed soimportant as getting to Broc and acquiring the instruments ofdeath.He drove the chariot on to meet Oslaf, reining in hard whenhe approached the panting monk.“Here,” he called, reaching down.“Get in.Tell me as we drive.”
“No.”Oslaf lurched at themovement of the unfamiliar vehicle, grabbed the rail and hung on.“At least… Slow down.I saw you coming home, and Ben said I shouldget to you and warn you…”
“Is Cedric worse?John?”
“No.They’re healing.Takethis side track, Cai.Stay out of sight of Fara fornow.”
“Why?”
“Follow round so you’ll come inat the foot of the cliff.Whatisthis devil’s contraption?”
“It’s my father’s, whichamounts to the same thing.What’s wrong?”
“We have a newabbot.”
Cai steadied the pony, who’d enjoyedher wild dash over the moors and was skittering impatiently in theconfines of the lane.He calculated the time it took for a messageto reach even the nearest of the brother monasteries.“How?No onecan have heard about Theo yet.”
“They haven’t.This man wasdispatched from the south weeks ago to replace him.His name isAelfric.He’s…” Oslaf relinquished his grip to gesture with onehand, clearly lost for words.“Just don’t let him see you come in,not with this rig.And…” He glanced incredulously into the baskets.“And an arsenal.Caius…”
“We have to defendourselves.”
“He won’t let you.He saysthe raid was a punishment from God.”
Cai almost dropped the reins.“He sayswhat?”
“Because we don’t obeyRule.Because Theo was wicked and heretical.He wants his bodytaken out of the crypt and—”
The lane was very narrow.Broc’schariots had been designed for close combat, though, and his horsescould turn on a sestertius.The mare swung obediently at Cai’sshout and tug on her left rein.The chariot lumbered round, almosttipping Oslaf off the side.“Cai, what are you doing?”
“Going home.The fast way.Where is this idiot from?”
“Canterbury.He has othermen with him, senior clerics.Please turn round again.You can’tjust…”
