Read Online The Red And Savage Tongue (Historical Fiction Action Adventure Book, set in Dark Age post Roman Britain) by F J Atkinson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: F J Atkinson
Ads: Link
eventually.’
The ir route beside the stream was overgrown, and in some places the vegetation was thick enough to force them to walk knee-high in the brown swirling water. By mid afternoon both of them had had enough and they sat down on a grassy bank by the streamside. They rested a while and drank from a clear brook that ran into the murky flow.
After their rest, they continued in the same manner until they came to a natural clearing in the trees where the ground fell away and the stream took a tumbling route down the incline before them. It provided them with a panoramic view of the forest, and for the first time Martha was aware of its enormity. Away to her right was the direction they had come from, and she could see a definite end to the line of trees where the cleared, arable land lay. She judged that they were now three or four miles into the forest’s interior. The trees entirely covered the rest of the land before them.
Turning to Simon, she was barely able to raise her voice above a whisper. ‘ How are we supposed to get through that? There seems to be no end to it.’
Simon pointed to a linear slash that ran through the trees. ‘See that line there—that’s how we’ll get through. It has to be the track we’ve been looking for. What we can see down there proves we were right to follow the water course.’
They continued down the grassy hillside alongside the stream, grateful of the brief respite from the claustrophobic gloom of the forest. Suddenly, Martha clutched Simon’s forearm. Looking towards her, he saw that she stared into the distance. Ahead of them, the resuming tree line indicated that their easy going was about to end, but something else had alarmed Martha. Through a rare gap in the trees, half a mile away, the bright sunshine was reflecting off what could only be metal, and this meant only one thing: the helmets or chainmail of unknown men.
Simon was confident that the group ahead could not see them, but signalled for Martha to kneel low to the ground after his example. ‘It seems we’ve company in this vastness girl—looks like a group of riders to me. We must really have maddened them if so many chase us.’ He considered this for a moment then shook his head. ‘No, they’re here for a something else, not for us. They’re probably looking for more land and people to raid.’
‘Then all the more urgent is our need to get before them,’ said Martha. ‘Our people need to be warned so they can prepare, even if it means risking our own lives.’
‘No haste today though,’ said Simon. ‘We need to let whoever is ahead put some miles between us; once we get into the trees again we must rest for the night.’
They spent the night absent of rest, cold and hungry in a makeshift shelter, and at first light the next day they followed the descending stream to enter the forest.
Their discomfort of the previous night had done little to help their cause and they tired quickly whilst still early into their trek—their progress becoming more hesitant and weary with every mile.
It was just after mid-day when they found the apple tree. It was not the native crab apple, but a different variety that owed its existence to a legionnaires discarded apple core many decades before. Its fruit were plump and ripening, and the tree swayed gently in the breeze as they approached it. It provided them with their first food for two days, and they sat in a shaft of warm sunlight and ate their fill of the welcomed crop.
‘If ever a treat came from heaven at a better time then it must indeed have been welcomed by those who received it,’ said Simon as he threw a core into the pile before them. ‘The track must be near now; I reckon this tree is an accident created by a hungry Roman. Maybe he left the track to relieve himself after eating his apple. Looks like he then fertilized
The ir route beside the stream was overgrown, and in some places the vegetation was thick enough to force them to walk knee-high in the brown swirling water. By mid afternoon both of them had had enough and they sat down on a grassy bank by the streamside. They rested a while and drank from a clear brook that ran into the murky flow.
After their rest, they continued in the same manner until they came to a natural clearing in the trees where the ground fell away and the stream took a tumbling route down the incline before them. It provided them with a panoramic view of the forest, and for the first time Martha was aware of its enormity. Away to her right was the direction they had come from, and she could see a definite end to the line of trees where the cleared, arable land lay. She judged that they were now three or four miles into the forest’s interior. The trees entirely covered the rest of the land before them.
Turning to Simon, she was barely able to raise her voice above a whisper. ‘ How are we supposed to get through that? There seems to be no end to it.’
Simon pointed to a linear slash that ran through the trees. ‘See that line there—that’s how we’ll get through. It has to be the track we’ve been looking for. What we can see down there proves we were right to follow the water course.’
They continued down the grassy hillside alongside the stream, grateful of the brief respite from the claustrophobic gloom of the forest. Suddenly, Martha clutched Simon’s forearm. Looking towards her, he saw that she stared into the distance. Ahead of them, the resuming tree line indicated that their easy going was about to end, but something else had alarmed Martha. Through a rare gap in the trees, half a mile away, the bright sunshine was reflecting off what could only be metal, and this meant only one thing: the helmets or chainmail of unknown men.
Simon was confident that the group ahead could not see them, but signalled for Martha to kneel low to the ground after his example. ‘It seems we’ve company in this vastness girl—looks like a group of riders to me. We must really have maddened them if so many chase us.’ He considered this for a moment then shook his head. ‘No, they’re here for a something else, not for us. They’re probably looking for more land and people to raid.’
‘Then all the more urgent is our need to get before them,’ said Martha. ‘Our people need to be warned so they can prepare, even if it means risking our own lives.’
‘No haste today though,’ said Simon. ‘We need to let whoever is ahead put some miles between us; once we get into the trees again we must rest for the night.’
They spent the night absent of rest, cold and hungry in a makeshift shelter, and at first light the next day they followed the descending stream to enter the forest.
Their discomfort of the previous night had done little to help their cause and they tired quickly whilst still early into their trek—their progress becoming more hesitant and weary with every mile.
It was just after mid-day when they found the apple tree. It was not the native crab apple, but a different variety that owed its existence to a legionnaires discarded apple core many decades before. Its fruit were plump and ripening, and the tree swayed gently in the breeze as they approached it. It provided them with their first food for two days, and they sat in a shaft of warm sunlight and ate their fill of the welcomed crop.
‘If ever a treat came from heaven at a better time then it must indeed have been welcomed by those who received it,’ said Simon as he threw a core into the pile before them. ‘The track must be near now; I reckon this tree is an accident created by a hungry Roman. Maybe he left the track to relieve himself after eating his apple. Looks like he then fertilized
Similar Books
