Bernard Cornwell - Stonehenge

The famous settlement lay on the river's northern bank. Fields spread downstream, hacked out of the forests that had once grown in the fertile valley, and a score of boats were hauled up on the bank, beyond which Saban could see smoke rising from thatched roofs. The hills were close on either side, steep hills, but looking lush and green after Sarmennyn's wind-scoured slopes.

The folk at Sul had heard the boats were coming upriver and a group of dancers waited at the landing to welcome Kereval and his men. Scathel was first ashore. The priest was naked and carried a great curved bone, a sea-monster's rib, and he crouched in the mud and smelt the air for danger, then turned three times before declaring the place safe.

Stakis, a scarred young warrior who was Drewenna's new chief, welcomed the Outfolk and Saban found himself translating the flowery words. Stakis embraced Saban, saying he was pleased to meet the brother of the mighty Lengar, though Saban sensed that the pleasure was feigned. Indeed, it was rumoured that Stakis had only won the chieftainship of Drewenna because he was reckoned strong enough to resist Ratharryn's insistent demands, while Melak's son, who had expected to succeed his father, had been thought too feeble. Lengar had not yet arrived, though a plume of smoke showing in the clear sky above the eastern hills was a signal that his party had been sighted.

Dancers escorted the visitors from Sarmennyn to some new huts specially raised for the meeting of the tribes and beyond the huts, on the grassland to the north of the settlement, there was a throng of shelters for the folk who had come to witness the meeting. There were jugglers in the crowd and men who had tame wild beasts: wolves, pine martens and a young bear. A larger bear, a great old male with a scarred pelt and claws the colour of scorched wood, was imprisoned in a wooden pen and Stakis promised that when Lengar's men arrived he would arrange a fight between the bear and his best dogs. A score of female slaves waited in the huts. 'They are yours,' Stakis said, 'yours to enjoy.'

Lengar arrived that evening. Drums announced his coming and the whole crowd walked eastwards to greet his procession. Six women dancers came first, all naked to the waist and sweeping the ground with ash branches, while behind them came a dozen naked priests, their skin whitened by chalk and their heads crowned with antlers. Neel, whom Saban remembered as the youngest of Ratharryn's priests, now wore the large antlers denoting he was the high priest.

Behind the priests came a score of warriors and it was those men who caused the crowd to gasp for, despite the day's heat, they wore cloaks made from fox pelts and high-crowned fox fur hats plumed with swan's feathers. They had bronze-headed spears and bronze swords and all looked alike, which made them oddly formidable.

And in their midst were Ratharryn's warlords, their battle captains, led by their renowned chief. Lengar was heavier and full-bearded now, so that he looked like his father, but his horned eyes were as sharp and cunning as ever. He wore his leather tunic on which the bronze plates gleamed, while on his head was a bronze helm like none Saban had ever seen before. He smiled slyly when he saw Saban, then walked on to greet Stakis. Drewenna's dancers circled the newcomers, kicking up a fine dust with their feet. Behind the warriors came a score of slaves, some bearing heavy sacks that Saban guessed must contain gifts for Stakis.

Lengar crossed to Saban when the greetings were done. 'My little brother,' he said, 'no longer a slave.'

'No thanks to you,' Saban said. He had neither embraced nor kissed his brother; he had not even offered his hand, but Lengar did not seem to expect a fond greeting.

'It is thanks to me, Saban, that you live at all,' Lengar said. Then he shrugged: 'But we can be friends now. Your wife is here?'

'She could not travel.'

Lengar's yellow eyes narrowed. 'Why not?'

'She is pregnant,' Saban lied.

'So? She loses a pup and you have the pleasure of whelping another on her.' Lengar scowled. 'I hear she is beautiful.'

'So men say.'

'You should have brought her. I ordered you too, didn't I? Have you forgotten I am your chief?' His anger was rising, but he shook his head as though forcing it down. 'Your woman can wait for another time,' he said, then tapped the blue tattoo on Saban's bare chest. 'Only one killing scar, little brother? And only one son, I hear? I have seven that I acknowledge, but there are plenty of others.' He plucked Saban's tunic, guiding him towards the huts set aside for Ratharryn's people. 'This temple,' he asked in a low voice, 'is it really a war temple?'

'It is Sarmennyn's great war temple,' Saban said. 'Their secret temple.'

Lengar seemed impressed. 'And it will bring us victory?'

'It will make you the greatest warlord of all time,' Saban said.

Lengar looked pleased. 'And what will Sarmennyn's folk do if I take their temple and keep their gold?'

'They might do nothing,' Saban said, 'but Slaol will doubtless punish you.'

'Punish me!' Lengar bridled, stepping away. 'You sound like Camaban! Where is he?'

'Gone to look at the goddess's shrine.' Saban nodded towards the high wooden palisade that surrounded the settlement and the goddess's spring, and when he turned back he saw that Jegar was approaching.

Saban was astonished at the upwelling of hatred he felt at the sight of Jegar and for an instant all the ancient misery about Derrewyn swamped him. It must have shown on his face, for Lengar looked pleased at his reaction. 'You do remember Jegar, little brother?' he asked.

'I remember him,' Saban said, staring into the eyes of his enemy. Jegar was wealthy now, for he was swathed in a cloak of fine otter fur and had a gold chain about his neck and a dozen gold rings on his fingers, but the fingers of his right hand, Saban saw, were still curled uselessly. His hair was streaked with red ochre and his beard was plaited.

'Only one killing scar, Saban?' Jegar said scornfully.

'I could have another if I chose,' Saban said defiantly.

'One more!' Jegar pretended to be impressed, then shrugged off the otter cloak to reveal a chest smothered in tattoos. Each blue scar was a row of dots hammered into the skin with a bone comb. 'Every scar is a man's spirit,' Jegar boasted, 'and every dot of every scar is a woman on her back.' He placed a finger against one blue mark. 'And I remember that woman well. She fought! She screamed!' He looked slyly at Saban. 'Do you remember her?' Saban said nothing and Jegar smiled. 'And as she wept afterwards, she promised me that you would have your revenge.'

'I keep promises made on my behalf,' Saban said stiffly.

Jegar whooped with laughter and Lengar punched Saban softly in the chest. 'You will leave Jegar alone,' he said, 'for tomorrow he will speak for me.' He gestured towards the big cleared space, marked by a ring of slender wooden poles, where the negotiations between the three tribes would take place.

'You won't speak for yourself?' Saban asked, shocked.

'They tell me there is a bull aurochs in the forest north of here,' Lengar said carelessly, 'and I have a mind to hunt it. Jegar knows what to tell Stakis.'

'Stakis will be insulted,' Saban protested.

'Good. He is Drewenna, and I am Ratharryn. He deserves insult.' Lengar began to walk away, then turned back. 'I am sorry you did not bring your woman, Saban. I would have liked to discover if she is as beautiful as everyone says.'

'I am sure she is,' Jegar said, challenging Saban. 'Your last one was beautiful. Did you know she is now a sorceress in Cathallo? She makes spells against us, but you see that we both still live. And both live well.' He paused. 'I look forward to meeting your woman, Saban.' He smiled, then walked after Lengar, both men laughing.