London - Edward Rutherfurd [21]
Thus prepared, the fisherman took his son to one side and spoke to him gravely. “If anything happens to me, Segovax,” he said quietly, “you will be the man of the family. You must look after your mother and your sister and brother. Do you understand?”
A few moments later, he called little Branwen over and started to tell her to be good, but the absurdity of the idea made him laugh, and he contented himself with giving her a hug and a kiss instead.
And now all was ready. By the end of the spit, the party was waiting to leave. Four large dugouts contained the women and children of the hamlet. There were also two rafts carrying provisions and their movable belongings. The men of the hamlet stood by, awaiting final orders from the noble in charge, who was coming down the river now, from the palisade.
Minutes later the dark-bearded captain was there. His hard, shrewd eyes glanced around, taking them all in. Cartimandua, standing in the boat with her three children, caught his eye. He nodded imperceptibly.
“Seems in order,” he remarked gruffly. Surveying the men, he quickly picked out three. “You will go with the boats as guards.” He paused. “All the hamlets will assemble five days upriver. There’s a fort there. You’ll be told what to do next.” Then he glanced at her husband. “You go too. You’re in charge. Post a watch each night.” And he turned to go.
It had worked. She felt a flood of relief. Thank the gods. For the moment, at least, they were all safe. She started to sit down in the boat. And so, for an instant, she hardly realized that her husband had failed to move.
She looked at the other women in the boat with their children. She smiled, then noticed that her husband was speaking and began to listen.
“I cannot.”
The captain was frowning. He was used to being obeyed. But Segovax’s father was shaking his head.
What was he saying? Suddenly she became aware. How could he be refusing to go?
“It’s an order,” the noble said sharply.
“But I swore an oath. Only days ago,” the fisherman was explaining. “To Cassivelaunus himself. I swore to fight with him at Londinos.”
They all heard him. Cartimandua heard herself gasp, felt herself go very cold. He had not mentioned an oath. But then, she realized, she had scarcely seen him since his return.
“An oath?” The captain looked perplexed.
“Look, he gave me a brooch,” the fisherman went on. “He told me to wear it in battle so that he would know me.” And he produced the brooch from the pouch on his belt.
There was silence. The captain gazed at the brooch. The fellow might be only a simple villager, but an oath was a sacred thing. As for an oath to a chief . . . The brooch, he could see, was Cassivelaunus’. He looked at Cartimandua. She had gone an ashen colour. He looked at the girl. A pretty little thing. But there was nothing to be done about that now. The bargain was off.
He grunted irritably, then pointed to another man. “You. You’re in charge instead. Get going.” Then he was gone.
As the fisherman watched the boat with his wife and children go off, he felt a sense of melancholy, and yet also of satisfaction. He knew his little son could see that he was not as strong as other men. He was glad that he should have heard, in front of everyone, about his oath to the great British chief.
The boats went slowly. As they rounded the bend, Segovax gazed at the forces gathering there. They had been coming fast. Already there was line upon line of chariots; behind the palisades were scores of little fires around which groups of men gathered. “They’re saying that when Cassivelaunus arrives tomorrow,” his father had told him, “there may be as many as four thousand chariots.” How proud he was to think of his father as part of that great array.
They left the ford and the druid’s island behind, went southwards for another half-mile and then the river curved again, to the right, so that the boy could no longer see the battle lines. On each side were mud flats and islands, green and heavy with willow trees.
Branwen,