Fire & Steel Read Free

back to Eofer and spoke again as the big ship master ordered the spar run up the mast and oars were fitted to tholepins. “What do you know about these Britons, lord?”
    Eofer pulled a face, “Cerdic and Cynric?” He shrugged and shot his duguth a grin. “They pay well!”
    They shared a laugh as the British warriors hopped from ship to ship, filling each in turn as the crews prepared to cast off. Eofer continued as the first of the dark haired warriors began to fill the hull of the Sæ Wulf. “Cerdic and Cynric, father and son. Cerdic strongarm is the son of the old champion of the Belgae, Elesius, who in turn was the son of one of the warlord Arthur's close companions, Osla big knife.”
    Hemming looked at him quizzically. “Osla? Unusual name for a Briton.”
    Eofer snorted. “That's because he wasn't.” He raised a brow as he repeated the nickname. “Big knife?”
    Hemming's expression softened and he nodded that he understood. “Big knife, a Seax. So he was a Saxon then?”
    Eofer nodded. Although the short, stabbing, seax was a common weapon among the armies in the North, the sword length bent-backed blade was more characteristic of the warriors who belonged to the Saxon tribes. “When Arthur died Cerdic's faction lost the power struggle and he had to flee abroad with his son. Now that he has had time to rebuild his strength he has hired us to carry his army across the sea and add a touch of steel to his homecoming.” The English thegn lowered his voice as the British leader leapt the final obstacle and landed amidships. “Let's hope that he has not underestimated the level of support waiting for him at home. Three keels is hardly what you would call an invasion fleet!”
    Eofer watched as Sæward took the draco from Cerdic's banner man and threaded it to a halyard. Within moments the golden dragon was rising to the mast top in a series of short, jerky movements. Cerdic's men let out a cheer as the golden dragon took the wind and pointed its tail to the North. Eofer painted his features with a smile and went to greet his paymaster as the last of his warriors tumbled down into the hull.
    “Welcome aboard the Sæ Wulf , lord,” he said. “I am Eofer king's bane. Are you set?”
    The Briton returned his smile and Eofer felt the charisma of the man wash over him. A head taller than the men of his guard though less stocky in build, the lighter skin tone and flaxen hair of the British leader served to reinforce the fact that his ancestry lay further north and west of the land he now called home.
    The Briton ran his eyes over the Englishman and nodded, obviously satisfied with his choice. “As set as I will ever be, Eofer,” he answered. Cerdic glanced up at the draco as it stretched out to the North, before returning his gaze. “It seems that my banner is as impatient to be home as I am.” He turned and called his companion forward and Eofer recognised the younger man for who he was before the introduction. “This is Cynric,” Cerdic beamed proudly, “my son.”
    Cynric came forward and Eofer was pleased to see that the boy had inherited his father's easy manner as well as his physical features as he welcomed him aboard. Cynric flashed him a smile in return. “King's bane,” he said. “We were introduced by a travelling bard to the tale of the fight in Swede Land in which you earned your name. We are pleased to have your sword with us on our little adventure.”
    As Eofer inclined his head in thanks, Cerdic indicated Sæward with a jerk of his head. “Your senior helmsman?” Eofer called his duguth across and the magister nodded to a thick set man who had hovered to one side as they spoke. “This is Anwyl, my own ship master.” The sailor ducked his head in acknowledgement as his master continued. “I hope that you don't mind, but I would like him to guide you through my home waters. No man knows them as well as he, and if we let the tides sweep us into the waters we call the Soluente we could