In The Grip Of Old Winter Read online

  The trees below cast dark shadows that deepened as the forest thickened. Peter stared long and hard, but nothing stirred. “They might be anywhere. Perhaps they went past the manor.”

  The outlaw shook his head. “The land is empty from here to the sea. A few farmsteads, that is all.” He glanced to his left. “We go back to where we climbed. There is a way through the forest that will take us around this high ground. It is longer, but the trees will keep us hidden.” He pushed away from the edge and slithered down the slope. “Come, we can walk.”

  Peter wriggled his way through the snow. “We could move really fast if we had skis.”

  Wulfwyn frowned. “This is - what?”

  Peter stood up and brushed the snow off his anorak. “Oh - it doesn’t matter.”

  The outlaw strode into the bracken and Peter ran to catch up. “Do you - do you know the charred branch at - Eorl Oswald’s manor? It’s in the trees.”

  “No.”

  Peter’s legs felt wet where the snow melted through his trousers. “It’s the way I came here. My dad hurt himself and had to be taken to hospital - I really want to know that he’s all right - but there’s so many knights.” He stopped walking. “I don’t know what to do.”

  Wulfwyn faced him. “You wish to run away?”

  “Well - no.” His cheeks burned. Why did he feel embarrassed? It must be right that he cared about his dad. “I should have told you before, but I didn’t want to be left alone again.” He rubbed the seal-amulet between his finger and thumb. “It’s just that - I want to help Leonor too - but can we try and get back to Oswald’s manor as well?”

  Wulfwyn gazed at him long and hard and Peter feared that he might be angry, but when he spoke, his words flowed with gentle and measured consideration. “You speak of strange affairs whose meanings I do not know. I see fear and sadness in your eyes and understand that it is from your heart that I hear.” He crouched so that his face came level with Peter’s. “I cannot guide your actions, yet - consider that you are here. This is a time of need, when much of what the peoples of this land once knew and understood is broken. We are subject to a sudden and violent change that will wither many spirits.” His brow furrowed. “I have not told you that Leonor and I are to be blessed in union. It is both our wishes and Eorl Oswald’s desire. Together we will keep the old ways that our fathers and forefathers held dear, though we mouth our allegiance to the Norman King.” He glanced away and sighed. “Without Leonor, that hope is lost and Eorl Oswald’s treason will mean his death.” He gazed back at Peter. “It is strange that you are here. I do not understand its meaning, yet my heart beats faster that all that I thought blown away like dust in the wind, might yet be saved.”

  Peter sniffed. “You are going to marry Leonor?”

  Wulfwyn gave a slow nod. “Blessed in union, yes.”

  “Then the flame,” Peter remembered. “The flame that I saw in the trees when I looked out of my bedroom window during the night - that was you?”

  Wulfwyn’s frown deepened and his eyes glinted, hard as steel and then he said, “I have come to Eorl Oswald’s every night to reassure them both that their lands are true and their people loyal and to prove to Leonor that my heart is strong.”

  He doesn’t know that I saw him in my time and, of course. he doesn’t understand. “But...” Peter began. Leonor’s a ghost - she jumped from the tower because she didn’t want to marry Eorl Bosa - that means that in my time Wulfwyn’s ghost haunts the woods too, because he was killed or died or perhaps his heart broke because he couldn’t be with Leonor? In this time - the old time, Leonor lives and so Wulfwyn still has hope.

  Everything came back to the seal-amulet and his and its ability to change events so that what happened centuries ago might never have existed and Time weaved a new and different history.

  It made his head spin and to attempt to explain that to Wulfwyn turned his brain to mush. He swallowed. “I didn’t know.” He turned the seal-amulet round and round so that the chain twisted and tightened around his neck. “Of course I want to help you. But - if we rescue Leonor, can we try and get back to Oswald’s afterwards?”

  Wulfwyn nodded. “I pledge that help to you.” He patted Peter’s shoulder. “I did not expect to find a friend in one so - different. Maybe the gods sent you. I had no hope and now I have a little. If this is a sleep-dream, then it is a balm from which I never wish to wake. For it gives me courage.”

  Peter smiled. “I don’t think it’s a dream. I feel better now. I just needed to tell you about dad. And anyway, the time moves at different speeds between here and granddad’s, so Farmer Brunt and his tractor might still be outside the house... though I slept through the night in this time, so I don’t know.”

  Wulfwyn’s eyes narrowed and Peter knew that his words didn’t make any sense. He held the chain up and released the seal-amulet and the disc spun as the chain unwound. “It doesn’t matter.”

  The outlaw stood and glanced around. “Come. We are easy to see when we stop beyond the trees.” He set off through the bracken and Peter ran after until the oaks and the forest shadows dimmed the daylight and Wulfwyn slowed their pace.

  They walked in silence for a long time. The curtains of moss that looped from tree to tree, drifted in the breeze when they passed. Brown leaves, dried by age and frost, crunched underfoot. Roots coiled and looped where they burst from the ground and stretched across their way before they burrowed out of sight again. Some grew so thick that Peter needed to jump over them. At night, without a light, such roots might tangle and trip unwary feet.

  He didn’t know their direction, for no shaft of sunlight shone to show if they walked east, west, north or south and they followed no sure path. After a while, all the trees and all the moss curtains looked the same. “We’re not going round in circles are we?” he asked.

  Wulfwyn’s mouth twitched into what might have been a smile. “We are making a wide arc to clear the ridge. Then our approach to Eorl Bosa’s will be from the front. There is a track where the forest is cleared for his knights to ride to another common way that lies beyond the trees.”

  “I saw that from the ridge, but won’t it be watched?”

  Wulfwyn glanced down at him. “Not so much, for it is well used. It is into the trees at the sides and the back of his manor that his guards peer, for a careful thief might creep through their shadows and never be seen.”

  Like the spae-wife, Peter thought. Where is she? The seal-amulet stayed dull and without any sign of the silver marks. He worried about the barghest and the carrier more, for they might be anywhere, hiding, watching, waiting to strike. He stared left and right, fearful that he might spot some sudden movement or hear a growl as deep as thunder.

  Wulfwyn halted and Peter gasped as they almost collided.

  “We must tread with care.” The outlaw spoke just above a whisper. “Keep low and stay as still as death if you hear or see anything. Before us lies the cleared way to Bosa’s manor.”

  Ahead, the daylight brightened, still grey, though a lighter shade. Wulfwyn drew his knife and stepped behind the nearest tree. Peter stayed close and waited until the outlaw reached the next tree before he crept across. The cleared way came into view; a wide avenue swept clear of snow. The hard-packed soil might be as smooth as the surface of a road in his time.

  When they reached the edge of the tree line, Wulfwyn pointed to the right and they darted and crept from tree to tree with the cleared way to their left. Peter guessed they were headed towards the manor, though he saw no sign of it.

  A sudden horn blast rang out sharp and bright and it echoed backwards and forwards through the forest. Wulfwyn and Peter dropped to the ground at the same time. The outlaw’s eyes widened and Peter held his breath.

  ***

  The horn sounded for a second time. Wulfwyn rose onto his haunches and glanced left and right.

  Up ahead, where the manor must be, Peter heard men shout. Their urgent tone might be fear or brusque commands. The seal-amulet glowed d
eep red and the silver marks shone bright.

  The horn blew again. Three short blasts and the sharp notes echoed far away.

  Wulfwyn dropped to his knees. “A call to arms. The manor is attacked. I do not see the foes. Stay down.”

  The seal-amulet trembled in Peter’s fingers and burned crimson. The silver marks revolved and each one revealed its shape with a clear definition. The trembling sensation increased. Why? It spread into his hands and up through his arms and even into the ground. He gripped the chain, ready to tear the seal-amulet from his neck and fling it far out of reach. If it exploded, then he and Wulfwyn didn’t stand a chance.

  The outlaw gripped his shoulder and pushed him down. Peter’s cheek scraped the earth.

  Wulfwyn’s breathing came in quick gasps. “Stay low and make no sound.”

  The earth shook and Peter wriggled free. “I think the seal-amulet’s going to...”

  The outlaw’s hand slammed into his back and Peter’s head reeled as all the air burst out of his lungs. His head thundered and as his senses returned, the thundering increased, even the air, when he opened his eyes, shimmered.

  Wulfwyn whispered. “Knights.”

  Peter closed his fingers around the seal-amulet and its heat warmed his hand.

  Hoof beats hammered closer and he heard the jangle of harness and the clink of armour and the snort of horses as they gulped for air. The ground might be made of floorboards it bounced so hard.

  Wulfwyn’s voice rasped in his ear. “Knights called to assist the Eorl and his manor.”

  Against us? Had a guard spotted their approach through the trees? They’d die if they made a run for it, but if they stayed here they’d soon be found. He slid the seal-amulet from under his body. The red burned bright as fire and the silver marks flared. He shifted onto his side to face the cleared way.

  His view, impaired by the brown twigs of leafless bushes and the trees thick trunks, gave him just a glimpse of the knights as they galloped past. At least a dozen, with spears levelled and shields held close to their chests. They stared straight ahead, unaware that he and Wulfwyn hid so close.

  The knights galloped out of sight and an image of a wall, its top smashed by a thunderbolt of fire, flashed into Peter’s mind. He snatched up the seal-amulet. A silver mark, identical to the one he’d imagined, hovered in the seal-amulet’s centre. He didn’t move or clench his hand or even think about what he saw, but a retort, like cannon fire, blasted out loud and clear from the direction of the manor.

  Men screamed and horses too and he heard the crunch and crash as armoured men hit the ground.

  Wulfwyn grabbed his shoulder and hoisted him onto his feet. “Run.” The outlaw sprinted away from the cleared way and Peter stumbled after as fast as possible. He held the seal-amulet with one hand and when he had a chance, he glanced down. The mark in the seal-amulet’s centre faded. The others revolved across the crimson surface.

  What just happened? I didn’t do anything. I saw the mark, but I didn’t command it to work. I didn’t make a sign.

  His chest hurt as he ran. How far to safety? He let go of the seal-amulet and it bounced against his anorak. He needed all his concentration to run.

  Wulfwyn cried out and skidded to a halt, his knife drawn. Peter swerved to avoid him as a man leapt out from behind a bush, his sword raised, ready to strike. Peter whirled to the left, lost his balance and hit the ground with a crash that knocked all the breath out of his body. He tried to stand, to roll onto his side, to hide. Danger threatened, he must escape, but winded and unable to draw breath, he flopped onto his stomach. His limbs turned weak as jelly and he imagined that when he moved, they wobbled.

  Voices boomed above his head and he curled into a ball. He tried hard not to think of the sword’s sharp edge as it flashed through the air and sliced through his neck. He curled tighter and whimpered and a black cloud descended over his mind and he heard nothing but silence and all thoughts diminished and blurred and then the cloud broke and cleared.

  Wulfwyn’s voice. “I am not his prey. He is no more than a boy. Put up your sword, Godwine.”

  A second, deeper voice that Peter thought familiar, though the more he tried to remember where he had heard it before, the more his memory failed.

  “I wonder at his apparel, for he is strange to look upon and bears no features that mark him out as either friend or foe.”

  Wulfwyn spoke again. “It is curious, my Eorl and to be wondered at, yet he bears a token that makes iron useless as river mud and can dismiss an enemy with no more care than a fly flicked away with a finger and thumb.”

  My Eorl? Peter’s stomach clenched. Eorl Bosa? He felt sick. Had Wulfwyn tricked him, pretended to help, but all the while lured him to Bosa’s manor and... what, to imprison him? Force him to use the seal-amulet against his will? Like Almina wanted? Doubt gnawed at these thoughts. If Wulfwyn meant to betray him, why did they hide from the knights on the cleared way? He wished his head didn’t fill up with fuzz-like cotton wool that made it difficult to think. He didn’t want to believe that Wulfwyn’s honesty might be in doubt.

  Wulfwyn’s voice came closer. “I will have him show you when he awakes.”

  The deep voice said, “Is he hurt? He breathes, yet does not stir.”

  “He fell at the sight of Godwine,” Wulfwyn said. “His face might kill a rabbit at twenty paces.”

  Peter didn’t know if the grunt that greeted Wulfwyn’s comment might be in agreement or outrage. His chest stopped hurting and his breathing eased. When he opened his eyes, the green and weathered bark of an old tree loomed so close that he picked out the individual lines which separated one piece of bark from another. Scared of who he might see, he didn’t dare look up, but that just delayed the moment until he had to move and so he rolled onto his back.

  “Ah! You are right. ‘Twas Godwine’s face that frighted’ his wits. He wakes.” Eorl Oswald stared down at him. The man’s round cheeks gleamed red like two ripe apples and his black brows bristled.

  “Come.” Wulfwyn gripped Peter’s arm and pulled him upright.

  Peter’s head whirled with dizziness and he gripped the outlaw’s arm to keep his balance. His stomach lurched and he thought he might be sick. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, the ground steadied and the trees stayed upright and they didn’t spin.

  The man who had leapt out of the bush also stared, his expression one of utter disbelief. A huge ginger beard covered his face. He sniffed as if uncertain of what to make of Peter and then he guided his sword back into its scabbard.

  Peter leaned against the tree for support.

  “Well met,” said Oswald.

  “Hello.” Peter’s voice squeaked and he took a deep breath. His legs trembled so much that his whole body shook.

  Eorl Oswald still wore his fur cloak. Blotches of mud spattered it all over and two long slashes down the right-hand side exposed the brown robe underneath. A strip of light coloured cloth, wound tight around the fingers of his left hand, showed a dark stain that seeped towards the cloth’s edges.

  Oswald stared at the seal-amulet and his eyes widened. “Is it this of which you speak?”

  Wulfwyn nodded. “The meaning of its being is clouded. It cannot be trusted.”

  Oswald stared. “I have never seen its’ like.” He leaned down for a closer look. “What moves these symbols? The boy does not shape his hands like a ritual-maker. Is it some spirit that lives within?”

  Wulfwyn stepped between Peter and Oswald. “He will tell all that he knows. Bosa’s manor is close and I fear the gaze of unfriendly eyes. You say there is a hidden cave where we may rest? Take us and we will speak there.”

  Eorl Oswald wrapped his cloak around him. He gazed beyond them, as if he searched for something or someone just out of sight, his mouth drawn down in worry. Then he rubbed his forehead as if to wipe away his doubts and strode deeper into the trees. “Wise words. Follow.”

  ***

  The ground sloped in a gentle decline unti
l it flattened out into a path. Not a path, Peter thought, but perhaps the bed of a dried up stream or even a river, for opposite, the ground rose in a steep bank and a deep cut, about three feet high, sliced through the earth just above where they walked. In places, the cut disappeared behind the remains of a landslide or a fallen tree.

  Oswald led the way and Godwine followed with Wulfwyn. Peter’s head thumped, but the dizziness eased and he stopped wanting to be sick.

  A fallen oak blocked their way. Up on the steep bank, the exposed base, with roots that stuck straight up into the air, leaned at an angle. The trunk, snapped off near the base, stood as high as a wall and the remains of many of the branches lay in a shattered tangle across a wide area of the forest floor.

  Eorl Oswald scrambled over the nearest branches and climbed the bank towards the tree’s roots. He beckoned them to follow. Between the trunk and the roots, where the cut in the bank reached its highest level, an opening appeared, wide enough, if they bent double, for a man to enter. Oswald grunted as he climbed through. Peter followed and dry earth pattered onto his head and shoulders. He didn’t need to bend, but the sudden dark made him falter and he put his hands out and shuffled forwards.

  “Follow my voice,” said Oswald. “I dare not light a brand until we are all within. The earth is uneven and the roots will brush against your head. There is a twist, first to the left and then to right and after that we shall be safe. We have little food, I fear, but we may light a fire to keep us warm.”

  Peter’s hand brushed against the tunnel’s earth wall as the way ahead curved.

  Oswald said, “It gives me hope that I found you, for I am in terrible fear. Bosa has taken Leonor into his manor and I cannot dare to think of what might be her fate. Godwine saved me when Bosa’s men attacked the camp, but they snatched Leonor from my sight. I cried and tried to reach her side, yet Godwine pulled me away. It was wise that he did, though I raged with fury. It is better that I live, for that gives some hope to Leonor.”