Chapter 2 - Ride of the Red Wolves

Egon smiles ruefully. "It's been my home for so long." He can't truly imagine living anywhere else. "But its been poisoned by..." He trails off, looking apologetically at Calix. "I know you follow this Christ-God. I don't fault you for it. But Augustine's zealotry is poisonous. It has already made friend turn against friend, brother against brother. If it should take hold of the entire island, I..." He shakes his head sadly. "It cannot come to that. It cannot be follow the Christ or die. People must be given a choice."

There had been a moment when Egon had spoken to Magan that Calix had thought perhaps Egon was like him – that he'd speak the first few words of the Lord's prayer and Egon might finish it. What hope there had been is dashed now the more Egon speaks, though with words far less damning than Magan's had been. "I know little of Augustine the man, only his mission; and that it is not only Christian zealotry that is dangerous. As you yourself have said." He pauses pointedly, gaze wandering back towards the others before returning. "Poison can have more than one source. What do you seek for Canterbury, if it were up to you? To chase us out, or offer a choice?"

He sighs, following Calix's gaze back to the group. " All  zealotry is poisonous. People should be allowed to choose for themselves what they want." He shakes his head again, this time shaking away any remnants of good humor. "I know it's foolish to think so. Any god that is so petty as to demand worship in the way that Augustine's Christ or Magan's Vidarr does is not a god worth following. But these are men, speaking the words they believe to be true. Who's to say what the gods want us to do. I just know in my heart that it cannot be worship or die."

"I cannot agree with you on Him not being worth following. I nearly lost my life tonight refusing to spit on my God. I know what He's done for me, as this Vidarr or what masquerades as him seems to have done for Magan,"  Calix replies slowly.  "But if you would not kill a man for worshipping mine, then I would consider you a friend, and we may both be in need of one. They do not seem a friendly group, and there are more like me I would see sent safely back to the mainland than forced to take an oath. I expect I will be watched, but you may have more freedom."

He shakes his head.  "I did not mean your god is not worth worship. I meant that Augustine's ultimatums do not sound like the Christ in the book. And Vidarr is one of many gods, and represents one part of a whole.  "I saw that you have power. And now I know that your Christ gives it to you. And I saw Magan rise from a fatal wound. Both your gods have given abilities I cannot comprehend." He leans against the wall, his back beginning to ache, the way it always did after battle. His brow furrows.  "But the words of men mar the best of intentions." A friend.  It seemed that all his friends were Christian now-days. He laughs. "I think we're all strapped for friendship on this isle." He extends an arm in formal greeting. You can count on me to  never raise a blade to anyone because of what gods they worship. Your countrymen will return home unharmed. I will do my best to see to it."

"Thank you. I recognize it is no small task, and I do not ask it of you lightly." Calix grasps his forearm in thanks, his expression as easy and open as it's been since he last saw Brittany. " They were not taken from the same battlefield, but I owe it to them all the same. What of you? Are there others from Canterbury?" He releases Egon, shaking his head slightly.  "For your sake and theirs I hope you have no kin cursed enough to have been brought with you here."

"No. It was just me. My capture was a... special arrangement ." He did his best not to look brooding again and thought he only half-succeeded. Attempting to steer the conversation away from any further questions about his capture, he poses one of his own instead. "You were taken from a battlefield? What happened?"

"That bastard will warn his friends for sure. But you are right " replies Eadwyn to Egon before he goes apart to talk with Calix.  "Better go back and get some rest. Overall this was a good night. We killed many slavers and free a good lot of ya" she says starting to walking back to the conquered campment and patting Egon in the arm as she passes by.  "Gods... I need a drink..." 

"Special?" Calix's eyebrow quirks, but the question distracts him from immediately inquiring further, his own expression falling into something darker as his jaw sets. He chooses to think of the sweord, rather than Fabian.  "Invasion. It did not go the way we'd planned. Not an unusual story in this encampment, I'm sure. Though I've not yet seen any others from Brittany."

Egon notes the way Calix's jaw works as he speaks of his home.  "I am sorry to hear that,"  he says.  "If they are here to be found, we will rescue them."  The conversation no longer so dire, he finds his eyes following the young red-haired woman -- Eadwyn, he thought her name was -- as she returned to the camp. His arm tingled where she had touched it. Then he caught himself and shook away the notion. Far too young, far too brash. And this was no time to indulge in that sort of thinking.  He quickly returns his gaze to Calix. "Let's just try not to start any fights. Leastwise not with Magan."

Calix's smile is crooked and wry as he indicates inward with a nod of his head to lead Egon back into the encampment. "I will do my utmost, if he does the same."

As Calix, Eadwyn, Egon and Goewyn make their way back south towards the stockade, the tell-tale orange of flame blossoms to the east - something is burning.

As the flames spark up Goewyn stops and immediate rushes to a high point, lying low and peering over the top of the ridge. She can see the outlines of the wagons burning, even from this distance. "The bastard has attacked our train. MOVE!"  She draws out her bow and immediately begins rushing towards the wagons as quickly as she can, keeping as much high ground between her and the fires...

Cursing in her own language Eadwyn takes her own bow out and rushes after Goewyn. 

Goewyn's senses are as keen as ever and, by the time they reach the wagons, the fire is running wild, consuming everything it touches. Several of the freed slaves who had been following Gann lie impaled by long arrows in pools of their own blood and a sooty-faced Isolde comes running out of the darkness. She's sobbing and obviously terrified, throwing herself into Goewyn's arms as soon as she's in reach.

Goewyn spins towards the figure running towards her, drawing her bowstring back as she does and taking aim only to immediately recognize the little girl and slowly release the tension on the bow. "Isolde!"  She takes the terrified little girl into her arms, waving Eadwyn over to her. "All of you, spread out! Look for a dark-haired woman and the warrior Gann among the fallen!" She smoothes Isolde's hair back, wiping the tears from her soot-stained face. "Tell me, little one. How many men did this? Can you show me on your fingers?"

Isolde just sobs into Goewyn's arms, her breathing jumpy and erratic.

Eadwyn runs at Goewyn's side and tries to calm Isolde too, but she doesn't interrupt her words. 

Calix takes off immediately, leaving the child with the two women as he ducks into the fray in search of the man who had given Magan his sweord or a sign of Goewyn's pale-haired woman, alive or dead.

Magan, still struggling to stand feels a sense of dread at the sight of the flames. Ordering the others on ahead of him, he picks himself up. Pushing through the pain he finds a horse and spurs it on after the others.  He let's out a howl as the sight comes into view.  "Theli! Branok?! Gawen?!"  He takes an axe, swinging it into a tree in anger.  "Gather the horses. We ride them down tonight! Those who do not have a horse must follow on foot."

The roaring flames are a veil-like curtain of heat and sparks as Calix ventures into the inferno. Between the collapsing wagons, he spots the limp form of a human woman collapsed on the grass, her bright mane of argent hair stained with soot.

Egon follows Calix, searching for Gann and the woman Goewyn had indicated. He peers through the flames, the crackling heat washing over him. 

Gann is nowhere to be seen - dead or alive. However, fighting through the thick black smoke billowing from the scorched carriage, Egon does find a rotund middle-aged man in a heavy woollen tunic slumped over a dead warrior who it looks like he was trying to save.

Egon pulls the man back, hoisting his hefty form over one shoulder. He trudges clear of the smoke and lays the man down to rest. He looks intently, a wave of relief washing over him as he spies the telltale rise and all of the man's chest.  Egon lightly slaps the man's face. "Come now, friend. This is no place for a nap."

Branok coughs and sputters at the stimulation, stirring, but barely drawing breath.

Without leaving Isolde Eadwyn starts to call for the others survivors to get close to her. Trying to organize and calm them, 

Egon helps the older man to sit up. "Get some good air in your chest," he says. "Breathe. Take it slow."

Calix stops short as he sees the woman sprawled across the grass between dueling fires, pale hair tinged in ash. Coughing, an arm over his face, he picks his way through the flames towards her, the searing heat oppressive and felt with every stinging breath. Around them weakened wood splinters and collapses, spitting embers at Calix's feet; he barely waits to roughly push a hand beneath her nose to verify she's breathing before pulling her limp form towards him. He's always been reliant on speed over strength, but the Lord has a way of providing, and he counts on it now as he lifts her from the ground. There is faint relief when, despite his oath just moments ago to Magan, she lifts easily into his arms and he knows he hasn't yet been abandoned; it's short-lived, as ash swirls about them and fire snaps at his heels. Ducking over her back through the inferno, he carries Theli back through the smoke towards the others, both of them grey with soot as they emerge from the flames. "She's alive."  

Taking her own skin, Eadwyn pours some water over the face of the woman Calix has just brought and clean her face, hoping that will help her to breathe and wake up.  She doesn't even look at Calix face, as if he doesn't exist.  When Magan arrives and he starts screaming orders she scoffs and turns to tend the wounded. 

Goewyn shushes little Isolde hugging her tightly and smoothing her wild hair. "Everything is okay now, child. Be still. I'm going to help the others, I need you to be strong for me little one. You can do that, yes?"  She kneels down to look at her eye to eye with a smile. "We must save as many as we can."  She draws her seax and places it into Isolde's little hands. "You stick that into the throat of any man who tries to take you away from here. I will be back, I promise."  She turns to rush into the flames as Magan arrives. She turns towards him. "Watch over the child. I am going to save as many as I can."

Calix feels water splash over him and looks over at the red-haired woman who seems to prefer to think he doesn't exist, feeling it run over the face of the unconscious woman in his arms and over his hands. He shakes his head impatiently, refusing to put her down.  "She breathed too much smoke,"  he insists, carrying her a few feet further from the inferno with a divinely-inspired swiftness, as much to be away from the smoke as to be out of earshot. Acutely aware of the distaste for his methods, he murmurs a prayer beneath his breath, feeling a sudden coolness surge through his otherwise overheated core. Once it washes over his extremities, he presses an unnaturally cold palm to Theli's cheek and mutters another prayer, sensing the heat return to his hand as the cold seeps into her. Who was this woman, to be sought after personally? He barely has time to contemplate it as he feels the chill spiral into her; distantly hopeful it's enough but also too recently experienced in his hope getting him nowhere, he looks back over his shoulder to yell, "Find a healer! A real one. Someone who knows herbs." 

Branok huffs and wheezes, but slowly his breathing begins to stabilise. "Thank you, young man," he replies in Kentish, taking deep gulps of the cool night air until the trembling in his chest subsides. "Would you mind helping an old man on his feet?" Isolde clutches fearfully at Goewyn's seax, still trembling as she watches the woman disappear amongst the flames. A sudden gasp of air makes Theli jerk in Calix's arms as his holy power washes the toxic smoke from her lungs. She looks up at at the man holding her in confusion at the unfamiliar face. "Who are you?" She asks softly in Cornish.

Egon eases the man to an upright position, steadying him as he shakily stands. "Did you see what happened?" Egon asks. "Where did they come from?"

"Fire arrows," Branok pants. "Hit the wagons in the side. I was in the carriage. I didn't see from where."

Egon gives a cursory glance at the arrows, but can find now discernable pattern or direction. "Did you see the Northumbrian? Gann, I think his name is."

The last of the cold leaves him and Calix watches in faint surprise as the woman surges to consciousness beneath his hand, his soot-stained fingers leaving ashen streaks across her cheek as it drops back to his side.  "Calix," he replies in his native Breton, "What happened here?" He looks beyond her to the raging inferno before back, slowly helping her sit. "Are you well? The smoke almost took you."

Branok shakes his head with a cough. "I heard him. Outside. I don't know where he's gone." "Calix," Theli echoes weakly in his arms. "Thank the Gods," she intones, her fingers clawing at his arm like an anchor. "Bolts of fire fell from the sky. I feared that Ragnarok had come for us all."

Egon pats the man on the shoulder. "You stay close." The Kentish man moves to find Magan, seeing him atop horseback looking like his injury were still ailing him. Not as much as it should have been, but still painful. "Magan, pursuing this archer at night is suicide . I know you serve a god of vengeance, but please, do not do this. There are people here that need help -- and still more that are missing. Your focus is needed here , not chasing someone through the hills." Egon's tone is calm. Not lecturing, not imploring -- simply elevated to be heard above the inferno of the wagon train and the coughs and cries of the victims. "There will be time for vengeance soon enough."

"It looks to be the wrath of men; far worse," Calix replies darkly, tightening fingers over her hand on his arm to still its frantic clawing.  "You are safe now, I swear it. They look to have inflicted their pain and departed. Did you see how many of them?" It isn't lost on him how much more natural it feels to speak Breton, after so many bitter weeks among the Saxons. As the fire crackles and roars in front of them, he looks at the others across the hill and frowns before glancing back to her.  "What is your name?   Can you walk?"

Theli shakes her head in response to the first question as Calix helps her to her feet. "Theli. Where is... I was travelling with others."

"Many are safe, I will take you to them." He guides her toward the top of the hill and pauses, saying first, "It is not a kind sight, you ought to steel yourself for it. Others are saving as many as they can."

Theli nods slowly and swallows, bracing herself against Calix until she's confident that she can stand unaided. "Show me."

Calix leads Theli up around the edge of the inferno, towards where Eadwyn, Egon, and Magan are gathered. The fire seems to have grown already from moments ago when he'd entered it, and he scans it reflexively for signs of life. If any remain in it, he can't help but think it isn't for long. Drawing near to Egon, he spares another glance at Theli before looking between the Kentish man and Magan, where tension seems to reside once more.  "What has happened?"

Magan sways atop his horse, ignoring the round as he scans the flames for signs of those he cares for. The pain strikes at his chest once more, not the piercing of the arrow, but the crushing pain of having let Theli down once more. He turns to meet Egon's eyes, cold and hard for a moment, but the effort almost has him fall. He turns back away, ignoring him, and looking into the flames. A moment later though, Theli appears with Calix, and he drops from the horse, to her. Falling upon her as he takes her in his arms.  "I thought I had lost you again." He reaches out for Isolde's hand, drawing her in two, and holds the both of them there tightly. 

Theli's hand is torn from Calix's as Magan grabs her, but as their fingertips part she softens into the Saxon's familiar embrace. Isolde offers no resistance, merely shivering silently against the two.

Satisfied that Magan had at least heard  him, Egon turns back to the flames, searching low for any movement beneath the rising smoke. 

With Gann missing and Magan blind to the suffering of those who just minutes ago agreed to follow him, Branok begins to call out to those that he can find who were freed from caravan en route to Aquae Sulis . As they rally to the wizened elder, he directs them to go about hauling the fallen away from the burning wagons. In truth, it seems that few fell to the flames. While the fire raged, most of the dead were struck by arrows from afar. By now, much of the wood has been consumed and the inferno gradually fades to embers and smoking wrecks in the night. Gawen and Gann are nowhere to be seen.

Calix watches in slight surprise as Theli and who he can only assume is their daughter are pulled into Magan, looking between the three with a faintly quizzical expression that eventually smoothes. "She needs a healer," he remarks in West Saxon as a man behind them yells orders, unsure if any of the three are even listening. "A proper one, who knows herbs. If any still remain."

Magan snaps himself back to reality.  "Yes, bring everyone together. Gather the wounded and save those we can. Someone bring me the butchers bill. Goewyn and Branok, take as many people as you need to get these men help. And you"  He turns to Calix.  "You brought us back together. I will not forget this. I will return your blade."