The Lantern Bearers (book III) by Rosemary Sutcliff, Charles Keeping Page A
Authors: Rosemary Sutcliff, Charles Keeping
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heading in straight for Rutupiae.
Wulfnoth’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as he brought the Sea-Snake round in the wake of the Storm-Wind , into the mouth of the winding waterway that cut Tanatus from the mainland. And now the smell of the marshes came to Aquila as he swung to and fro at his oar: the sourness of marsh water, the sweetness of marsh grass—a smell subtly different from the smell of the Juteland marshes, that tore at something in his breast. The sail came rattling down, and was gathered into a bundle like a great, striped lily bud; and Wulfnoth’s voice came to them at the oars: ‘Lift her! Lift her!’ as the tawny levels slipped by on either side. They ran the keels ashore at last on the white landing-beach just across the channel from Rutupiae and sprang overboard and dragged them far up the slope of fine shells, out of reach of the tide.
Aquila knew that beach; he and Felix had used to bring their birding-bows out here after wild-fowl. He knew the wriggling trail of sea-wrack on the tide-line, the dunes of drifted shell-sand where the yellow vetch and the tiny striped convolvulus sprawled. Standing with panting breast beside the Sea-Snake as she came to rest, he had the feeling that he had only to look down to see the track of his own feet and Felix’s in the slipping white sand. He caught a glance over his shoulder, and saw the tower of Rutupiae Light rising against the sunset. There was a great burst of flame above its crest, but it was only a cloud catching fire from the setting sun.
They had lifted the children out over the bulwarks. They were helping the women ashore now, and the man with the gored shoulder. Some of the men had turned already to the bellowing cattle in the hold of the Sea-Witch , anchored just off shore.
‘Sa, we come to the landing-beach! We are here, my brothers, in this land that we take for our own!’ Edric the leader said. And he scooped up a double handful of the silver sand, and raising his arms, let it trickle through his fingers in a gesture of triumph.
The stern of a big galley jutted sickle-shaped beyond the dunes round the next loop of the channel, and the gable end of a boat-shed reared stag’s antlers against the sky; and there was a faint waft of wood-smoke in the air telling of human life that had not been there when Aquila and Felix shot mallard over Tanatus marshes. It seemed that scarcely were the Storm-Wind and the Sea-Snake lying above the tide-line with their crews swarming about them, before an inquiring shout sounded from the edge of the dunes inland, and a man came crunching down over the shingle towards them: a big man with a broad, ruddy face under a thatch of barley-pale hair.
‘Who comes?’
‘Jutes from Ullasfjord, north of Sunfirth,’ Edric said. ‘I am Edric, son of the Chieftain.’
‘Welcome, Edric, Son of the Chieftain of Ullasfjord.’ The man cast an eye over the women and children. ‘Come to settle, seemingly?’
‘Aye, to settle. The times are hard in Ullasfjord. A bad harvest, a hard winter, and the sons sail to find another land to farm. Always it is so. And the word blew to us on the wind that Hengest had room for good men at his back.’
‘Umph.’ The man made a sound at the back of his throat that was half grunt, half laugh. ‘As to room—it is in my mind that if we pack much closer into this island of Tanatus we’ll be ploughing the salt sea-shores and sowing our corn below the tide-line.’
‘Maybe when we have spoken with Hengest we shall up-sail for some other part of the coast. But in any case’—Edric grinned, and jerked his chin towards the winding waterway—‘are the Sea Wolves to lair for ever, this side of Tanatus channel?’
‘That you must ask of Hengest when you speak with him.’ The man flung up his head with a gruff bark of laughter; and the laughter spread, one man catching it from another. More men had appeared behind the first, and now two young women came running down the
Wulfnoth’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as he brought the Sea-Snake round in the wake of the Storm-Wind , into the mouth of the winding waterway that cut Tanatus from the mainland. And now the smell of the marshes came to Aquila as he swung to and fro at his oar: the sourness of marsh water, the sweetness of marsh grass—a smell subtly different from the smell of the Juteland marshes, that tore at something in his breast. The sail came rattling down, and was gathered into a bundle like a great, striped lily bud; and Wulfnoth’s voice came to them at the oars: ‘Lift her! Lift her!’ as the tawny levels slipped by on either side. They ran the keels ashore at last on the white landing-beach just across the channel from Rutupiae and sprang overboard and dragged them far up the slope of fine shells, out of reach of the tide.
Aquila knew that beach; he and Felix had used to bring their birding-bows out here after wild-fowl. He knew the wriggling trail of sea-wrack on the tide-line, the dunes of drifted shell-sand where the yellow vetch and the tiny striped convolvulus sprawled. Standing with panting breast beside the Sea-Snake as she came to rest, he had the feeling that he had only to look down to see the track of his own feet and Felix’s in the slipping white sand. He caught a glance over his shoulder, and saw the tower of Rutupiae Light rising against the sunset. There was a great burst of flame above its crest, but it was only a cloud catching fire from the setting sun.
They had lifted the children out over the bulwarks. They were helping the women ashore now, and the man with the gored shoulder. Some of the men had turned already to the bellowing cattle in the hold of the Sea-Witch , anchored just off shore.
‘Sa, we come to the landing-beach! We are here, my brothers, in this land that we take for our own!’ Edric the leader said. And he scooped up a double handful of the silver sand, and raising his arms, let it trickle through his fingers in a gesture of triumph.
The stern of a big galley jutted sickle-shaped beyond the dunes round the next loop of the channel, and the gable end of a boat-shed reared stag’s antlers against the sky; and there was a faint waft of wood-smoke in the air telling of human life that had not been there when Aquila and Felix shot mallard over Tanatus marshes. It seemed that scarcely were the Storm-Wind and the Sea-Snake lying above the tide-line with their crews swarming about them, before an inquiring shout sounded from the edge of the dunes inland, and a man came crunching down over the shingle towards them: a big man with a broad, ruddy face under a thatch of barley-pale hair.
‘Who comes?’
‘Jutes from Ullasfjord, north of Sunfirth,’ Edric said. ‘I am Edric, son of the Chieftain.’
‘Welcome, Edric, Son of the Chieftain of Ullasfjord.’ The man cast an eye over the women and children. ‘Come to settle, seemingly?’
‘Aye, to settle. The times are hard in Ullasfjord. A bad harvest, a hard winter, and the sons sail to find another land to farm. Always it is so. And the word blew to us on the wind that Hengest had room for good men at his back.’
‘Umph.’ The man made a sound at the back of his throat that was half grunt, half laugh. ‘As to room—it is in my mind that if we pack much closer into this island of Tanatus we’ll be ploughing the salt sea-shores and sowing our corn below the tide-line.’
‘Maybe when we have spoken with Hengest we shall up-sail for some other part of the coast. But in any case’—Edric grinned, and jerked his chin towards the winding waterway—‘are the Sea Wolves to lair for ever, this side of Tanatus channel?’
‘That you must ask of Hengest when you speak with him.’ The man flung up his head with a gruff bark of laughter; and the laughter spread, one man catching it from another. More men had appeared behind the first, and now two young women came running down the
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