Chapter 2 - Ride of the Red Wolves

Goewyn frowns at the man's words. 'What would they want with the children?' She allows the glowing ember of anger to burn away the confusion, those answers would come, but now other answers were needed. "How often do these men come? Where are the children kept? How much coin does it take to buy back one of these children?"

"There's a stockade on the river," the slaver quickly volunteers, "that's where the ship comes in. There must be two or three score there - groups come and go all the time. Buyers don't come often though," he continues, looking to Goewyn. "Just for special orders and them kids are kept well! Away from the rest in their own group. Probably cost more silver than I've ever held."

Goewyn looks to Magan before turning back to the slaver. "Who is the leader of your group? What is his name? Does he live in the stockade or in the town nearby? What does he look like."

The slaver breaks eye contact and something shifts in his demeanour. It's fear, but no longer simply of Goewyn and his current situation. "They call him Chad. The stockade is his base of operations. He quarters there, or on the ship. He's tall. Curly brown hair. He'll be the one carrying a sweord."

Goewyn catches the fear in the man's voice. "You are fearful of this Chad? What of the others? If we kill him, will the others continue to fight? Or will they flee?"

"Some might," the slaver admits. "Chad has three  Gedriht and they would each love to take his place if they can."

"Do you know their names? And do you think they would fight among themselves should he die? Or would they simply follow one of the three?"

The slaver shakes his head. "Cuthbert, Edgar and Godwin. They all want a piece of the pie. Always competing to bring in the best haul."

She relaxes the pressure on his crotch. "Good. I will not kill you." She looks back to Magan. "Anything else you want to know?"

Magan shrugs. "Defences? What are the walls? Any other things they might employ?" 

The slaver lets out a breath of relief as Goewyn's blade is withdrawn. "It's a palisade. Towers by the gate. I'm just a runner, not a guard. I take the poor sods to market is all."

"You are doing well. How many slaves were there when last you saw" There is a sympathetic tone to Magan's voice. The man was doing his job, and Magan knew full well that he had done worse things in his time working for Bletius. But he had never lost, he rationalised, and when you lose, you should die in glorious battle, and this man had not. He had run and so been captured, just as those he used to transport. So now he suffered their fate.

"Um, maybe three score," the slaver explains, a glimmer of hope now showing in his voice. "The pens can hold about four score when full."

"Thank you. That will be all." Magan looks for confirmation from those around that they need no more information, but he knows further captives can be found if needed.  He pats the man comfortingly on the shoulder. "It is said, that those who die well and show no fear can still be called to the halls of Valhalla. Even from the bonds of defeat. I hope that gives you comfort." He gives the man a sad smile and a final squeeze of the shoulder before standing to his full height. "Now, we will march north. I will save your kindred from captivity with your aid. Then together, we will march against the Christians in Kent. What say you all?" He gives Gloyn a fiery smile. "And then there will be no more talk of splitting. You and those we free will march?" He waits for murmers of appreciation and agreement, building to cheers to pass around before he continues. "And now, as I promised, the man is yours."   At the back of the group, the tall Gaelic man has picked up the spare shield, gives a nod of acknowledgement in Magan's direction, and heads for the trees with some companions.

"What? Wait, no! I told you everything you asked!" The slaver exclaims, trying desperately to push himself to his feet as several of the former slaves close in on him, their eyes burning with hate. He struggles and pulls at his bonds, but to no avail.

Goewyn tenses as she realizes the man is about flee. As he lurches to his feet and Kara attempts to grab the slaver, he slips through her arms and onto Goewyn’s waiting dagger. He gasps as they blade pierced deep into his chest and he falls back to the ground, bleeding into the grass. “Everything is a cycle.” She looks to the newly released with an apologetic look. “Do with him what you will. We could not let him escape.”  She steps aside away from the dying man.

As Guthric and Gann follow the fervent noses of the hounds, the Irishman couldn't help but feel awkward at the strange distance between them, "You fight well. I am glad you are with us. Where did you learn?"

Magan looks at Goewyn with a bit of surprise. "I had meant for them, he whispers to her. Are you ok?" He guides her away slightly. "I am sorry he wasn't here, I will go with you to the camp, but if he is not there, we must not wait longer, do you understand?"

The scent of unease still carries with Gann as he puts his mind to the search although it calms him. He follows the dogs through thick bush with ease, taking moments to catch his breath with open mouth. He is still easy to tire though he had plenty of time to rest after the fight. Maybe his age is already taxing him though he tries his best to not let it show. As he and Guthric find the first of the horses and keep the search for the rest, he eases up and gets more talkative. "Ei has been taught by swordmaster Oldwald Gurric, the Lion of Alnwick. I was let in his mercenary school for four summers and five winters." Gann tells the large man, nodding appreciatively. "Though I never had to make much of me, until now. My lord deemed me worthy to be sworn to protect his kin and chose my calling. I did my best." Seems like that hits another nerve because there's a glint of guilt in his voice but it doesn't linger. "You think Magan will take all the slaves with him? Some of them are frail and not fit for that life so he would be wise to let them go," he adds a moment later, still focused on the search.

When they hear Magan's promise, several of the freed slaves gather around the prisoner. They encroach upon the slaver like ravenous wolves, hungrily watching and waiting as he is interrogated, their eyes twinkling with a thirst for vengeance long unstilled. Finally, Goewyn's blade flashes and they leap forwards in unison, grabbing the man and pinning him down as they pummel and stab with their own weapons. A brief and blood-curdling scream peals out from beneath the pile and is rapidly silenced. Only the squelch of bloodshed, torn flesh and blunt impacts remains. A full minute passes before the frenzy peters out.

The interrogation of the slaver doesn't sit comfortably with Gawen, but he forces himself to watch Gloyn's questioning anyway. He understands the necessity, and turning his back on the actions of those who are helping him achieve his ends would be base hypocrisy, though he flinches as Gloyn's blade slips between the man's ribs, and turns away as the crowd of freed slaves close in to finish him off.

"Ugly, but necessary." Magan takes note of Gawen's discomfort but seeks to comfort his friend. "Our mission cannot be achieved alone. The gods demand war, and vengeance. This is an emotion well known to these people now." He looks at the scene over their shoulder grimly. "Speaking of what is to come, we must talk of your time with the spirit folk, and how we might return Felix to us. He has been away too long and I fear for him, and for the part he is to play in our future."

Goewyn shrugs and nods, allowing herself to be guided away. "I know. I intended to let them do have their fully revenge on him, but he was going to run... and I cannot let him get away. Not with what he knows of us and our intent." She looks sadly at Magan and shakes her head. "No, I will not be okay until I have found Gruffyd." She pauses as the rest of his word reach her thoughts. "Magan... I- thank you. I am not silly enough to think it is solely out of pity for me. I thank you, nonetheless. If you help me rescue my brother, I shall pledge myself to your cause. Gruffyd might be good company for Isolde." She chuckles softly, sounding suddenly very much like a simple maiden and not the dirty, blood covered warrior. She locks eyes with Magan. "I do not know much about the Aesir, but what I have seen with you all. There can be no doubt they are with you. If the Gods demand this, I am with you."

Kara watches the events unfold, keeping her peace until it is over and the man lay dead, the dishonor he brought on his family was clear in how he cowardly tried to run. She felt very little emotion towards it, as to her he had gotten the punishment befitting a coward. Kara does try to find out where Gann went next, but as she makes her way over to where he was last seen, she doesn't see him. Perhaps he was hunting something? Either way, she turns back towards the group, thinking about their path now. She approaches Magan and ask him " I believe you understand my need to go to the places the leader spoke of, but are any near our new direction?"

Convinced by the promise of vengeance on those who had enslaved them, three more of the former slaves are swayed to join Magan in his cause and join the others in dismantling the cages and arming themselves.

"I am glad to have you with us then." Magan takes Gloyn's arm. "Now, we should try to bring in more of the horses and those last few men. Can you help?" Magan nods to Kara. "Much closer in truth. This road would not have taken us in the right direction. Our new destination lies not far from our originally intended path and will take us past two of the places you wish to visit."

Guthric shrugs to the question. He hadn't given the condition of slaves much mind, "I can't say. We should take any willing. If they want to help, they can find a way. Such is how things are in packs."  The sound of crackling brush sends the hounds slinking quickly through the brush. Behind a hill just ahead, a runaway horse finally comes into view. "You ride, I need to tell Fang and Claw what comes next. We should bring them back as we find, so we don't waste time and they think we're lost."

Gann nods and holds the reins driving the two calmed animals along with him, "Ei will. Take your time. Spirits guided us to victory today." He smiles weakly, almost a foreign gesture across his bearded face, and turns to walk out of the woods. Upon arrival back on the fight site, he stops by the treeline to take a good look at the slaves that gather and loudly discuss their promises among themselves. He does not hurry and his eyes pierce through the crowd making sure a certain person is no longer among them. For the better, he is not and Gann sighs with relief and approaches where Magan and Gloyn stand but not interfere with their conversation, and stops by Kara and Gawen instead.  "We found there. Guthric wanted you to know he is still on the hunt for others." He tells Kara, then he looks across the road on the other side, well remembering his fight with the guards and how some ran off there. "I could go north and search for horses there. If we have the time to remain here." He doesn't take initiative until Magan is done with his talk. He looks across the road towards their own cart, and to make sure that Branok is well.

Goewyn clasps Magan's forearm in return. "I can. Which would you prefer me to hunt? Man or beast?" She spots Gann and Guthric return from searching for the horses. She gives Gann a worried look, but a reassuring smile as she waits for Magan's answer.

He shrugs "Both. Be careful though. No unnecessary risks."

Guthric pops into the clearing a few minutes behind Gann. Fang and Claw were given direction, as best as they could understand, to find more horses, try to lead them back, or come back barking if they couldn't. "This will take all day if only two of us. Maybe some of them could show thanks and help?" Some should also look for food."

Magan sees Guthric's logic, but he also worries about leaving the group alone. He will have to trust them eventually though.  He nods. "Three of you, go with Guthric and search for the horses and remaining slavers. Two more to go with Gann and Gloyn. The rest, continue here to make the wagons ready and set up a camp." He says quietly to Guthric and Kara. "I will be searching for food nearby, I do not want them to think me gone though. Kara, keep an eye on what goes on here." He heads back to his own wagon, checking briefly on Theli and Isolde,   "Perhaps I should bring the girl, it would be good for her to learn of foraging and hunting."  he slips quietly into the woods to bring back some food.

Gann catches Glöyn's glance. There's dim, worn out look across his face. Though he livens up when he hears Gurthric approaching. " Ei will go gather them. Think it will do us good if we all get to know them by name and calling." He looks north and gestures at the woods across the road. "We will go check north. Ei won't take long." He approaches the men gathered around who still distribute the last of their captor's belongings. He stops by few men, one of them bald and tattoed across his arm, and makes an honest and humble greeting. They do respond but only snap out and follow orders when Magan's voice reaches them and they nod back to him first then wait for Gann to lead them. He checks where the pict's hounds race towards and pick a different direction, telling others what he remembers of the escapees. If we find any, these men will taste the blood they yearn for, he thinks. It must be for the better. 

As Gann and Guthric ride off to find the horses, Goewyn looks around at the remaining freed folk with the thoughts of tracking down the slavers. She immediately seeks out the women Winflaed and Beornwyn. “I am going after one of the men who escaped here on foot. Would you wish to accompany me? We will not be taking anyone back with us.” She gives them a knowing look and a nod. She glances to the third woman, the one who remained behind after learning of the intent on vengeance. “Shall we bring this one with us?”

Winflaed nods and makes to see that she is equipped for the job, donning one of the looted woolen tunics and strapping a seax to her belt. Beornwyn, on the other hand, grimaces at the selection of light blades with disdain. "Do you have anything... bigger?" The remaining woman is slight and waify-looking, with tangled waves of long blonde that have clearly seen better days. She sees Winflaed nod in response to Goewyn's question and stands from where she's sat on the end of one of the wagons. "I am Eadwyn,"  she introduces herself, respectfully inclining her head towards her rescuer.  "What do you need?"

“Eadwyn, I am called Goewyn. This is Winflaed and Beornwyn.”  She gestures towards the other two women. “We are going after one of the slavers who escaped on foot. Do you wish to come with us? If so, get a weapon and some armor and follow me.” As the women don weapons and armor, Magan comes over with a massive axe. “Beornwyn, I believe your name was? This was claimed from the body of a vile man who once sought to claim the life or my woman in a cowardly tactic. I overheard you speaking about a larger weapon. If you seek to join our cause, this weapon could be yours. I think the Gods would be glad to see you use to reclaim its honor.”

"Yes," Eadwyn replies resolutely, "I will follow." She heads for the pile of recovered equipment and fetches herself a bow, checking the tension in the string. Meanwhile, Beornwyn hefts the broad axe, giving it an experimental swing as she tests its weight. "Thank you. This will do." She replies with a satisfied smirk, also taking a bow and a quiver of arrows.

Kara stays back as Magan goes to search for food for such a large group. She then checks on everyone as best she can, imparting a bit of knowledge of how Freya was proud of them and that if they wished to know more about Freya, just come and ask her. This gave her a chance to learn a little about each one, and advance the glory of Freya.

Guthric points out two freemen sitting by a wagon wheel, breathing in the air of freedom. The burly man was an immediate surprise to see staring at them. The Pict stares at them with a total disregard for subtlety or social etiquette. He finally spits out a few strings of things that sounds like questions. In return, he gets only nervous, confused stares. His heavy hands press into his eyes as he sputters over a few words before settling on, "Horses.....find them..."  And waves to follow toward the woods.  Several hours later, the two freemen return riding horses and Guthric leads a third back. When Magan is available, Guthric pulls him aside a momeny, "Not good hunters."

Goewyn nods. "Good, then we hunt. Come." She nods to Magan and immediately finds the trail of the fleeing slaver as the other women arm themselves. She points into the woods. "This way, the trail is easy to follow. He makes no attempt to hide, just flee. Fool." As the four women quickly follow the trail, Goewyn uses this time to attempt to point out the telltale signs of his passage to the others in hopes they could learn. Roughly half an hour later they are moving quickly and Goewyn stumbles over an unseen branch while watching the trail ahead instead of at her feet. The loud crash that accompanies it causes two of the women to call out... and alert their quarry. Goewyn spots him rushing forward in a dead sprint away from the four hunters, a wild and terrified look in his eyes. "Bows! Now!" Goewyn doesn't wait for the others and immediately draws the fletching back to her cheek, sights down the fleeing man, and looses! She watches with grim satisfaction as her arrow, plus three others find their marks as they all piercing his minimal armor in his torso and legs. He cries out in pain and tries to stumble away, blood pumping from his wounds. "Go on. He is yours." She takes another arrow out and watches the surrounding forest for any signs of trouble as the three women rush forward with seax and axe in hand. The slaver cries for mercy as he stumbles away, but the grim visage of the three women foretold his death as they descended upon him... They return with blood spray and stain upon their arms and clothing. "It is done then. Keep whatever you find on him. They are your spoils now. Then leave him for the worms. We must get back."

By dusk Guthric and Gann have returned with the remainder of the slavers' horses. Eight in total. The wagons have been stripped of their cages and the slaves have begun constructing themselves sleeping spots for the night. Several gather around a small campfire, talking quietly amongst themselves. Others swing their looted seax experimentally as the idea of putting it to use takes form in their mind. There has been vague talk of watch patterns, but so far nothing tangible. Most look to their liberators for guidance and instructions.

Gann learned the name of the warrior with the tattooed hand to be Hrothgar and they passed few words of their homeplaces before entering the spirit of the hunt and silently stalking ahead. Though the men had hoped to find at least one bleeding out bastard of a guard and submit him to the fate he deserved, one of Gann's companions spotted a grazing horse that was spooked at first of their approach. On the way back Gann was mostly silent and unable to answer their questions with more than repeating what he knew from Magan already. Back at the camp, he was struck by the crowd, movement, and voices everywhere. For the months he had spent in the wilderness and the fear he had developed for places littered with men on every street, it felt overwhelming at once. He squeezed his weary eyelids to keep upright and ready and then spotted Guthric. Gann approached and after greeting and asking how the search had faired, he pointed at the men who tested their weapons. "My friend, we has to see the weapons passed equally, and get to know them by name and skill. Would you come with me? I could use your wisdom afterward."

Goewyn watches the women closely as they begin the trek back to camp and notices each of them struggling now with the consequences of taking a life. Beornwyn seemed to be dealing with it better than the other two, with Winflaed and Eadwyn both looking pale and eyes staring at nothing. She recognized that stare, she too struggled with the same thoughts after she had taken her first life. The quiet in the wooded shelter had been filled with tears and cries from both her and Gruffyd as she replayed the scene of the spear point ripping the man's throat open. The shocked look in the man's eyes as his hands groped futilely all the while his blood gushed and sprayed in the tight confines of their home... "It is no easy task to take a life, especially the first time. You will likely always remember this, sometimes seeing it in your dreams. Do not let it consume you, this man chose his path."

Magan returns a while later, Isolde's face is smothered in berries, evidence of the lessons on the wild that Magan has been teaching her. They have a sack full of edible nuts, berries and roots and some game kills - rabbits, squirrels and birds strung over his shoulder. It will probably not be enough for everyone, but certainly enough for the majority, and will make the captured rations go much further, especially once Branok works his magic.  Guthric catches Magan's attention. He nods at the Pict's words. "I know. They will learn though. Now, we all cook and eat. Tomorrow we march for the slavers!"

"Aye..." Hears Magan's explanation muffled against his scanning of freed men and women. "They must be strong. Broken do not help us now." He returns to walking among the small crowd with Fang and Claw at his sides. Although he and his were given wide berth to walk, he felt as though he was om display like a show. Such was the way of things since he left home. The customs of his people were not observed past the borders of his homeland, let along this far south. In the fee cities he'd seen, dogs were kept on chains and away from people, and wolves were hunted and feared. This way made his heart sink that people would forsake such loyal and noble allies. Luckily, Gann roused him from the growing trepidation. The Pict shook himself and smiled, "Yes, yes. All must help and be ready. We have so little, but people are greedy and afraid. No one should have more than others. For now, they rest. Tomorrow we give them teeth to fight."

Many of the former slaves are up late into the night, some celebrating their freedom, while others simply cannot rest. However, eventually quiet falls over the make-shift camp. Many huddle in furs around the fire. Some pace about the perimeter watching for threats in the night. Hours pass and the sun rises to the dawn chorus, shedding light on the lucky few who can't quite believe they are waking up free.

Magan gathers the group early, organising a quick meal before getting the wagons rolling. He had spent the evening resuming Isoldes training and enjoying an evening with Theli but rest had not fallen easy for him and now he was eager to be moving forwards once again. He takes the first shift scouting ahead. "Gawen, ride with me." He waits until they are ahead of the group before raising the main reason he asked him to ride out with him. "Have you thought more on what I said of bringing Felix back? Can it be done?" 

"I don't know," answers Gawen frankly, who had been pondering the question to himself for some time. "After the ritual, I found myself lost in y gwrych for some time, until we met up again on the road. I might be there still were it not for Pen. So it could be that Felix could be found there, in the brambles between this world and Annwn . But I have neither the knowledge nor the power to find him if so. We shall have to find both of those along our path."