The Dark of a New Moon
It is the dying days of Thrimilchmonath. A man stands within hail of Ercongotastead. He has the demeanour of a man spun a hard wyrd but determined to weave its threads into stronger cloth. His name is Aculf, called the Bowman, and he demands a reckoning with the man who slew his boy.
Despite his wrath, though, his son’s slaying and the manner of it, he seems prepared to accept a settlement if it be also a way to return to the fellowship of good folk. It seems that Aculf was once one of Raedmund’s outlaw band. Repelled by his cruelties and Pukelfolk allies, he had fled his company with his son. If the folk of Ercongotastead would agree a settlement with him, lift his outlawry and pay him wergild for his son, he was able to tell much that would be of value to those who oppose Raedmund.
Ercongota herself takes charge of the negotiations. Aculf accepts a goodly portion of silver from Eawulf, his son’s slayer; the replenishment of his depleted stock of arrows; lifting of the sentence of outlawry; and formal forgiveness of any crimes committed as a member of Raedmund’s band. In return Aculf swears to keep the peace with his neighbours and more specifically Eawulf. He also agrees to offer up every aid he can against his erstwhile leader.
He reveals what he knows about how matters stand in the wooded hills of Brihtwoldscir’s south-west. There is little of comfort for the folk of Ercongotastead in his words. He believes that most, if not all, of the folk in the hills to the south have been burnt out of their steadings by Raedmund and his wightish allies. He has taken the steading of the reeve, Frithi, as his base. It seems he pays tithes to the Pukel-folk for their aid. This includes a mighty Thurse that does his bidding, and has broken down the doors of many a hall at his word. Aculf does not know how Raedmund has come to this accord with the Pukel-folk but he knows that live human flesh is part of the bargain. He takes prisoners wherever he can and keeps them at Frithistead, hoarding them like a miser’s silver.
Aculf has been watching Frithistead and it seems Raedmund has but lately set off for the hold of the Pukel-folk for the new moon to deliver his tribute to the Pukel-wife. He has taken with him a goodly number of his men and some captives. He believes it to be a round trip of perhaps a sennight to reach the Pukel hold and return. He would be expected to return with a host of wights, perhaps sufficient for an attack on Ercongotastead itself.
Ercongota and her advisors determine that the best and wisest course is to use the chance afforded by Raedmund’s absence to raid Frithistead and free the captives. This was the not only Erongota’s duty to her folk. If successful it would strike a double blow by both swelling the ranks of the defenders at Ercongotastead and reducing Raedmund’s ability to play a blood-due to the wights.
It was agreed that the force to go should be swift and lightly armed – and in any case there were few well-armed deguth available at Ercongotastead. So it was that a band of geoguth comprising Lyttleman, Eawulf, Wulf the Lucky, Nothgyth the Ugly and Aculf the Bowman set forth. Relations between Aculf and the rest of his band, especially Eawulf, the slayer of his son were cool, but no oaths were broken.
For the first day they followed the course of the brook that runs into Ercongotastead from the south. At the end of the day they found the cave that until lately Aculf and his son had used as their base, and stayed there that night. In the morning the struck away from the stream, following the lead of Aculf who knew the quietest ways into the Vale in which Frithistead lay. They surprised a hunting party of Pukelings and after a sharp fight slew all but one. The thought that one might have escaped with tidings of their approach, leant urgency to their progress and towards the end of the marching day they approached a small turf bothy at the head of a broad valley, with a large steading visible below.
Aculf explained that the cabin was used as a watch point to guard the northern approaches to the vale. Indeed, as they watched, three geoguth – one a walcyrige – arrived from the south and relieved three warriors already in the bothy. As they waited for the second group to disappear down the path to Frithistead, they made a plan together. Two guards had gone inside the bothy, leaving the door open, while the walcyrige stood outside on watch but clearly conversing with those inside. Aculf crept close and drew bead on the woman who knew nothing of her doom until a goose-feathered arrow sprouted from her gut. She cried out and fell to the ground writhing in agony. Her comrades came forth to be met by the sight of four warriors, weapons in hand, sprinting towards them. They had a split-second to make a decision to flee or stand. Another arrow struck home – though to less effect – and seemed to cause them to make their choice. They dragged their screaming comrade back into the windowless bothy. There they had little answer to make as Lyttleman’s axe began to bite into the door, the desperate windings of their warning horn muffled by the thick turf walls.
Eventually, they saw that they had no choice but to treat with those outside. The two warriors agreed to throw down their weapons in return for their lives. There was little to be done for the walcyrige with an arrow deep in her vitals – she was sent to meet the Gods as a mercy. The two warriors were questioned, then gagged and bound and left in the bothy.
In the dark of the new moon party crept towards Frithistead and easily found an unguarded spot behind the tithe barn where they believed the captured warriors to be held. An inquisitive guard came to investigate a slight sound and was met by Lyttleman’s axe. A watcher on the raised guard-platform at the front of the great hall was felled by an arrow from Aculf. A third guard, realising that something was afoot, ran for the safety of the hall with Eawulf in hot pursuit. As Eawulf neared the hall the doors opened and two armed warriors rushed out. Now the boot was on the other foot as Eawulf fled from the newcomers. Aculf shot from cover but either his aim was off or his heart confused his aim. None of his shots found either mark.
Meanwhile Lyttleman and Wulf freed the prisoners in the tithe barn, where some hard decisions were made around the fate of some of the more grievously wounded. Nothgyth ran to free the women in another outhouse. Some of the fitter prisoners freed some pack animals held in the stables; others loosed the dogs; yet others set about firing the tithe barn, full of tar, honey, timber and furs. The rest prepared themselves to leave. As the erstwhile prisoners fanned out across the compound, Eawulf’s pursuers decided that time had come retreat to the safety of the great hall. There was little to be done by the defenders but lob a few slingshots while their captives organised themselves for their escape.
It was a weary and wounded band that left Frithistead just before dawn and crept over the hills into the broad vale that led northwards to Ercongotastead. Many of the prisoners had been wounded in their capture or hard-used since. Some had had to be left behind – the tithe barn their funeral pyre. The worst injured of those remaining were on pack-beasts. Despite their weariness, they pushed on, for the word from their two captives, who they gathered from the bothy, was that Raedmund was expected to return later that day. Despite a broken arm it is Teothic, Frithi’s brother and hearthguard, who takes the lead, pushing the weary war band on through the long hours of daylight to the safety of Ercongotastead.
There they receive a warm welcome. The rescued are given shelter and succour; their rescuers praise and reward. Talk soon falls to what will come next and what is to be done ere Raedmund comes to Ercongotastead. For come, he surely will and soon.