Ekethorp
Wistan Wulfinga’s telling.
At Ossby
If anyone had been following Wistan Wulfinga, slayer of the Eoland Witch-Queen, in the early afternoon after battle of the Gap and the return to Ossby they would have seen him seek out a quiet corner of the burgh and wrap his distinctive spearhead in sacking, then lay himself down and pull a blanket across his head to shield his closed eyes from the day’s light and his peace from those seeking favours or giving out tasks, so to catch up on some hour or two’s sleep after a busy day and night and day and night and day.
It would be clear to the hypothetical watcher that the sleep was not easy. The sounds, twitches and kicks under the blanket speak of one reliving battle, but these eventually die down and the blanket-headed one lies mostly peacefully, though mumbling incomprehensibly into his safety blanket until in later afternoon when he sat bolt upright, disentangled himself from the warm safety of the blanket and strode purposefully into the summer day’s mid-afternoon.
He then sought out various of his comrades of the Gefndene faction of the Geat army, apparently concerned after his battle-dreams to confirm his memories of the actual outcomes for he checks each out out and, finding them as intact as can be after a battle, gives each a congratulatory brotherly hug.
Only the closest of observers would note that during the close, brothers-in-arms hug Wistan says in a low conversational tone he perhaps hopes will not carry nor incite remark, “I’m trusting you with my life. Meet me in a couple of hours at the scrub oaks over the rise from the boats. Fighting Kit. Rune weapons if you can. Tell no-one,” before he pulls away and claps them on the shoulder, adding “but of course, I’ll see you at supper…” in a more normal tone for the busy noise of the camp, then goes on his way.
There were special words for some. For one he turns back back after a couple of steps, “the lads,” he nods towards a companion, “will be there? For supper? Good.” Another shoulder slap, and he’s away again.
To that one, who holds him back to ask how else to enarm themself, the aetheling gives a low, sensual, throaty chuckle and whispers breathily into their ear: “This is war, baby…”
In the scrub oaks
Wistan is waiting for you, trying to look nonchalant, though the first arrivals may notice he’s breathing deeply… He greets people with a nod but is obviously watchful of the countryside and the sky while waiting for more to arrive.
“I expect you are wondering why I asked you here tonight.
“We all know that gods and spirits greater or lesser can speak to us in our dreams. I have had such a dream this very afternoon.
“I dreamed that I met… partisans, concerned for the future of this land. They spoke of a split amongst the coven’s rulers in Ekethorp.
“One, Anya, loathes the invaders with such a passion she would bring down the skies on the whole land to destroy us if she could but lacking that reach seeks to summon up cauldron-born and staenbogan of immense power, the summoning of which would dry and wither the island.
“She is one who would make a desert of her own land and call it victory.
“The other of the coven, so we are told, is the witch Mira we had dealings with at Forchafn. She likely hates us near as much, I surmise, but is more pragmatic and less extreme in her solutions. She offered to make a deal with us at Forchafn, to see us quit her land. She may be persuaded to renew that approach, if unopposed.
“I am promised entry to Ekethorpe with a few companions, on condition we seek to slay Anya-the-mad and we may rescue any surviving prisoners not yet submerged in the cauldron. But with only a few companions so the settlement might defend itself should we in turn run mad.
“Could this be a trap? Yes, of course it could. I can think of no better story that would snare us. But I have reasons to believe the partisans motives were truly spoken. And reason seems against it: a trap for only twelve of the the army of the Geats and their allies of the Freed, when hundreds more remain? The damage we would do would not be easy on Ekethorp’s defenders even if we were betrayed and overwhelmed.
“Why you? I have spoken only to those I have known long enough to trust personally, without hesitance. We are watched over, of course. We have been throughout this whole campaign. But I am warned we may also be watched from the inside by those suborned or compelled by this Anya. It would be bad if she knew we are coming for her.
“So we likely face a hard fight against the cauldron-born and staenbogan and their witch. If you are short of a rune weapon then borrow from these with my blessing: Foebiter was the witch queen’s, the langesaex and the franca are from unknown origin, but rune-marked. Use whatever you might best wield, though the runeless must come first.
“Are there any questions? Be quick, for we have an assignation near Ekethorp just after dusk.”
There was: Thegn Osgar, Lytelman to his friends, with those of his gesiths fit for a fight, being Hrothgar, Svipdag, Saefrith, Grimcytel and all with rune weapons of their own or from the thegn’s armoury. Then Herefrith with his beruned walrus tusk, Herewulf and his rune-arrows, Beornfrith the Bowman borrowed a rune-franca from Wistan, Leofric of Gefndene is a swordsman worthy to wield Wistan’s battle-spoil from the Witch-Queen, the named sword Foebiter, Ruric the Dane, whom Wistan quietly holds to be gods-guided for putting the Gefndeners on the path to Sikvarp and thence Ossby, has a langesaex from Wistan’s stock. Tohrwulf, Wistan’s companion since before they joined forces with Lytelman, has a chance-found rune-saex picked up up from the debris of the battle of the Gap, which he takes as a sign from the gods to join the venture he would follow anyway.
The assembled band walked to close by Ekethorp and there met Wistan’s dream contacts in flesh: The Corn King and Queen. The boy and girl of a single birth, Eawig and Aenflaed, first met at the Eolander attempt to push the Gefndene Geats back into the sea at Forchafn and when they fell prisoners of the Geats under Wistan, while Lytelman lay stricken by witch-shot.
They described the task they wished the Geats to undertake for them: mostly to eliminate the Coven witch Anya who blocked resolution of the conflict and threatened to overreach wisdom in orders to destroy the Geats and also her ally, a hedge witch, Litha, assisting her.
They also made clear that they wanted witness borne to important people amongst the Geats to know that Ekethorp was protected by much more than mere human bodies; that the Gefndeners were guests in their domain and would not be harmed while with their two hosts, but that the powers used for Geats here-and-now would be against the Geats should they chose to continue the war by storming Ekethorp, rather than end it by negotiation. The aetheling and the thegn looked about their companions, and there being no demur, so agreed.
The Corn King and Queen led them to a secret way into Ekethorp. A long narrow rift in the hillside choked with thorny bushes which pulled aside at Eawig-the-King’s asking, then into a cave guarded by staenbogen, which also stood aside at Eawig’s asking. Aenflaed-the-Queen was the closer behind, speaking to the bushes and the stones which moved like men, to thank them for their forbearance and asking them to resume their duties to hide and guard the secret way. The cave became a tunnel and the tunnel eventually stairs winding upwards to emerge within a chamber in a god-hall of Nerthus, the dual natured male/female god of the island Aneflaed and her brother represent, a god also represented in the main hall by an astonishing large carved statue, to which Wistan carefully paid his respects in passing, a guest in the god’s own hall.
In the hall Eawig met with Nerthus partisans to activate arrangements for distractions to cover the Geats departure after the deed, then led them through the dark densely packed stone-built settlement of winding and cross connecting streets so narrow that even single file was a tight squeeze for fully armed Geat warriors. Residents were mostly long abed Eawig expected and none were encountered despite a couple of dashes across wider open spaces.
The Hall of Anya was near one of Ekethorp’s gates, though it was not clear to the Geats which, having turned this way and that, with no clear view of the sky, since leaving Nerthus’ hall. Eawig commanded the door of Anya’s hall to open — they proved powered by staenbogen , which offered no threat, as part of Eawig’s command presumably. The point of Eawig’s control of the staenbogen and the use of such as mere door openers is not lost on some amongst the Geats.
Though the staenbogen of the door were no threat, the main space of the hall was occupied by cauldron-born, formerly Geats by the look of their equipment. These were dispatched in difficult fighting in the shadow-filled dark — for what need of light do the cauldron-born dead have? The only light source in the whole inner hall was the Saetur torch, carried by Svipdag and no steady source of illumination that as he uses it and his rune-franca to stave off the dead.
The dead are stilled once more, having taken a lead in the disposal of the cauldron-born, thegn Osgar the Lytelman, kept the initiative and smashed through the only door seen ahead in the gloom opposite the main doors.
There were doors and stairs down, whence Wistan could hear the shrieks of galdor being worked, and cries of terror and pain. Lytelman did not hesitate but charged on down the stairs to the
Down the stairs the under-hall occupied near as much space as the hall above. At one end were prisoners in a barred-off gaol. At the other was a great cauldron being served by two witches. There were servants dragging victims towards the cauldron and a host of naked and clearly recently dead people standing about.
In the lead Lytelman was stuck blind by a witch’s curse. Wistan and Herewulf pushed past him to engage the unarmed dead. Spears did not prove to be a great weapon to engage a crowd that did not concern themselves about injury and death, being dead already, but simply mobbed their victims, marching up the length of impaling spears to clutch and to bite and to tear. While others of Lytelman’s gesiths cover him with their shields while he rubbed at his eyes Svipdag pushed downstairs and found the clutching dead to shy away from the Saetur torch much like the cauldron born had and used it tactically in conjunction with his rune-franca to reasonable success in clearing a space about himself, and starts to whittle down the number of foes
The tide was turned by the timely arrival of reinforcements into the space freed by Svipdag. At first a group led by Tohrwulf, though himself part-blinded, deployed into a small shieldwall, with locked shields and flickering, stabbing blades against the clutching dead. Then the return of Lytelman upon the recovery of his sight and mere progress suddenly becomes a rout as his giant-wrought axe-blade meets newly-dead flesh.
As the last of the dead were put down one of the witches disappeared and the other hid behind the cauldron blubbering her surrender. The servants begged for mercy. The missing witch’s clothes remained. Wistan’s sharp nose smelt a rat and quick inspection suggested the cellar had any number of rat holes. On interrogation the other witch confirmed that her companion could take the form of a rat. Wistan became suspicious as the captured witch refused to identify herself, suspicions confirmed by Eawig’s arrival and his cry of “That’s Anya! Kill her!”
Which Wistan did, to the discomfiture of many in the cellar as the death-shriek scathed the hearers; strong men winced, staggered and some even fell senseless at the keen. Closest to the fell cry, and bloody to the wrist with the witch’s life nonetheless Wistan merely blinked. His wearing of the golden circlet from the witch-queen’s body was remarked upon.
Though not completely successful, with the escape of the rat-witch, nonetheless Eawig-the-King declared the job done and graciously permitted the traditional looting of the hall and freeing of the prisoners. The gaol space then being used to prison the servants and their clothes to clothe the enlarged prisoners, though inadequately, but some of the prisoners, being hardened Geat warriors, strip their fallen former comrades the cauldron reborn for clothing, boots, weapons, armour and the servitors clothes cover a woman — no warrior, but clearly held in respect.
Eawig left briefly, a tense few minutes where some pondered the possibility of betrayal now the wet work was done, but he returned and lead the party back the way it came. There was some fortuitous disturbance at the nearby gate that was drawing attention away from the hall and back alleys, then to the temple and thence through the secret ways to the countryside where the Geats of Gefndene and the rescued parted from the Corn King and Queen and made their way back to Ossby.