In this chapter the Gangani trio and Arina meet the Dumnonii and find thermselves in the middle of a battle after surviving storms and tide races.

The Bitches. A Tide rip near the Demetea lands

Angry Mermaid 6

Or.

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 6

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin the twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan and Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.

Drustan and the youngest Dumnonii warrior named Udris sped off up the Val towards the settlement of Merth to find suitable lookout posts. Both had been issued with Celtic hunting horns with simple instructions of how to signal the Viking’s progress. The only weapons Drustan had was his bow and the long dagger that Penderol the Celtic clan leader had lent him. He realise that as a lookout, his main protection was stealth and speed. At a narrow part of the river Udris waded across the Val and the two agreed to stake out either shore as they crept northwards along the densely wooded banks of the Val. Nobody was sure of Blueface’s route.
Eventually Drustan heard the faint clatter of armed men making their way south. After identifying them as Norse raiders, he blew his horn hard and Udris answered with the correct signal from the other bank. It reassured the young boy to know his newfound comrade in arms was still there. Immediately he fell back to a high point further down the Val and secreted himself as prearranged to monitor the Viking’s progress. He was relieved to receive Udris’s reply but even more relieved to hear a response from the main party led by Penderol. The long mournful groan of the stolen Viking-horn wailed eerily up the valley.

Drustan smiled to himself. ‘The Vikings would think it was some of the other raiding party coming to meet their comrades. They were in for a shock.’

Now everybody knew where the Vikings were and Penderol could lay his ambush with care.

Drustan had counted the Vikings and silently thanked the wise moor for having taught him the new numbers, ‘it was just so much easier to remember and mark down.’ He cautiously followed the pirate gang down the valley and was surprised to realise how bold they were. They left no pickets or lookouts but simply trampled forward supremely confident in their ability to defeat just about anything in their path.

At a third pre-arranged location Drustan gave the third locational signal to let everybody know exactly where the Vikings were. This time there was no reply from the Viking —horn but Udris responded just to reassure the nervous Drustan. The battle would soon be joined.

Drustan was no further use as a lookout, for the main Celtic party were now set to ambush the invading Norsemen. He clambered up to a high point overlooking the Val and set about monitoring the progress of the battle. Firstly he was relieved to see Udris wave to him from across the Val and he realised he was too exposed. ‘If Udris could spot him so easily then the pirates could.’ He retreated away from the ledge back into some bushes that would protect his back then he settled down to watch. Further down the Val he spotted the Angry Mermaid with what must have been a third load or possibly even a fourth load of five and twenty Celts frantically making every effort to reinforce their comrades. Drustan hoped that it was a fourth load for that would make more than a hundred warriors. He wrote 100 in the new numbers in the dust and then deducted the 70 Viking men he had counted and sighed with relief. There were more than 30 extra Celts. Despite the Norsemen’s superior weapons, the Celts now had the superior numbers and the element of surprise. It remained for The Angry mermaid to arrive in time; and arrive she did.
The progress of the battle was a series of happy accidents. As the Vikings emerged from the trees they saw what they thought was a single boatload of ill equipped Celts hoping to land on the bank of the Val to confront them. Drustan could see the scorn that spread as laughter amongst the Vikings as they watched the stupid suicidal Celts approaching. They were hopelessly outnumbered.

From his high point, Drustan could see where the ambush was laid out so he fired a flame arrow towards the Angry Mermaid. It was simply a signal to draw attention to himself and as Aiofe looked up she spotted her brother waving frantically to land the mermaid some several hundred paces further down the Val where Penderol had laid his trap. He did not know that Aiofe had already pr-arranged this move without Drustan’s or Udris’s knowledge. If Drustan did not know, he could not be tortured into revealing the plan.

Drustan breathed a huge sigh of relief as he watched Mabina swing the new-fangled tiller and seemingly point The Angry Mermaid back whence it had come. To the Vikings it looked as though the Celts had refused to give battle and they jeered abuse as they trotted down the wooded bank to keep pace with the cowardly Celts. In their arrogance, the Norsemen had not noticed the speed of the Angry Mermaid as she repeated her convolutions several times. Up and down the Val, the mermaid sped with the Vikings following her until they ran out of breath.

At first Drustan became impatient as he watched his sister’s antics but then he noticed the Vikings were separating as some sat down to rest whilst others carried on following the boat up and down the Val until the main body of the Vikings was lessened by scattered stragglers. Finally, Mabina put into a prearranged spot in a narrow inlet between two rocky outcrops where the Vikings would only be able to attack in strength from the front. To attack any landings from the sides, the heavily armed Vikings would have to clamber over some steep sharp rocks.

The Celtic leader of the men in the boat had shown Mabina the predetermined spot that they had agreed with Penderol and her own ship-handling skills had enabled a rapid turn and approach to catch the Vikings off guard.

When Blueface realised the Celts were actually going to land he let out a snarl of frustration and cursed his resting men to action. The Celts would be ashore with a defensible beach-head if he did not reorganise his scattered raiding party quickly.
As the Celts landed between the high rocks and prepared for the onslaught the Vikings arrived in broken groups to attack in a haphazard frenzy as their anger at being so easily tricked, overcame their caution.

Even with all the advantages that the Angry Mermaid had gained for the Celts by fatiguing the invading Norsemen and then landing at an advantageous spot, the Celts were still in great danger of being overwhelmed. They were in the main fishermen and farmers whilst the Vikings were battle hardened warriors. Desperately they had to hold their thin line until Penderol had all the Vikings in the rocky enclave with their backs to the landward ambush as they fought the sea-born, newly landed Celts.
Finally, Penderol had the invaders where he wanted them and he gave a silent signal to his men. They emerged from the forest silently so as not to warn the preoccupied Norsemen and they struck before the invaders even realised they were there. The Vikings had formed a seaward facing shield wall to drive the Celts back into the sea but they presented unprotected backs to the forest. Twenty Norsemen were dead before they fully realised they were being attacked from the rear.

With a deafening roar, Blueface realised his blunder but he now had to divide his forces. Some facing the shore-side Celts whilst others turned to face the forest attack.

Despite the Celt’s overwhelming positional and numerical advantage it was still a hard-fought battle. Not for nothing were the Vikings held in dread and awe and their rapidly reversed shield wall served to allow Blueface and his cadre of jarls to fight their way out of trouble. As the remaining Viking ranks were whittled away by man-sword and maiden's-arrow, eventually the small coterie of battle hardened veterans stood defiantly behind their shield wall challenging all-comers to kill them. It was something of a stalemate for much blood had been spilt. Penderol had four score men left of his original five whilst nearly three score Vikings lay dead or dying on the beach.
He did not want any more of his scarce Celts dead for the villages and settlements on the upper Val could not function without men folk enough to till the fields and fish the boats. Blueface had only a handful of men around him, Drustan counted ten as he sped down from his high place to confront the butcher who had murdered his beloved grandmother Giana.

“That’s the man Penderol, that’s the butcher who murdered my family.” He screamed.

Penderol lunged forward to stop the boy but Drustan was too quick and nimble. With an insane fury born of the dreadful loss of his beloved family, Drustan dived at the feet of the Vikings and scrambled under the shield wall with only his long dagger. The Vikings had never encountered such a suicidal frenzy before. Their shield walls were designed to face outwards with the swords facing out at body and head height to confront an upright attacker. No account had ever been taken of a small suicidal child diving low under the wall where the great land-battle-shields tapered to allow foot-room. The Vikings found it difficult to reach out over their long wall shields and strike down low at the lightning fast child. Before Blueface could reverse his sword and bring it inside the ring of shields to stab downwards at the invading fury, Drustan had already slashed and stabbed several times at the giant’s feet and legs. His whirlwind action set up such a commotion inside the crowded shield wall that the organisation of the circle started to fail. A gap appeared between the shields where Blueface’s mighty sword had been withdrawn inwards to address the stabbing danger below.
The shields parted as Blueface struggled to make room to swing or even just stab his sword downwards at the furious screaming child.

With one hand locked into the straps of his shield, Blueface could not get leverage and direction enough to accurately pin the writhing catlike fury at his feet.

He could hardly even see the boy hidden beneath the skirt of his heavy leather battle tunic; nor could he even turn or twist around without releasing his hand from his shield and that would break the shield wall. He stamped his bleeding feet furiously and several times caught the boy some mighty kicks while the boy hung desperately to the giant’s thighs and screamed from rage and agony. But with Blueface’s every effort to kick and stamp, Drustan's long hunting knife found another mark until at last the boy crawled up under Blueface’s chainmail skirt found a vital point in the giant’s unprotected groin. The mighty Viking released a scream of anger and pain, drove his sword downwards in one violent desperate slash then collapsed amongst his comrades as blood poured copiously from under his tunic. Seeing their leader killed, the remaining warriors broke from their shield-wall and flung themselves upon the surrounding Celts to ensure their entrance into Valhalla. It was short and deadly. With the battle tested shield wall dismantled it was but seconds before all the Norsemen lay dead and a deathly silence descended as the shocked Celts surveyed the awful scene. To a man, the Celts were too stunned to comprehend their victory and they sat gasping as they tried to come to terms with the carnage.

Aiofe and Mabina flung their bows into the bilges and immediately landed their boat and dashed to Penderol for news.

“My brother! Where’s my brother?”

With tears in his eyes the shocked Penderol silently pointed his sword at the bloodied heap at the centre of the Viking’s last stand.

“He’s under there. He’s dead. Blueface’s last sword stroke.”

Mabina let out a shriek of despair and flung herself at the heap of bloodied flesh. As she struggled move the dead mountain of flesh that had once been the dreaded Blueface it was only then that she recognised her twin brother’s terrified, barely audible whimper. She let out a squeal of rejoicing and screamed to Aiofe.

“He’s alive; he’s not dead!”

In one bound both Aiofe and Penderol reached the crumpled heap and quickly dragged the giant clear of the boy’s crushed body.

Drustan let out a raucous grunt as he desperately sucked in air and reached feebly to touch Mabina’s tearful face. Finally he found a reedy, frightened voice.

“I’m not dead sis, but by Cnab’s blood it bloody hurts.”

“Oh brother, brother, brother! Thank Airmid that you are with us. Where does it hurt?”

“Every-bloody-where! Ouch! Dammit sister! Easy now. The cheek of my arse and my balls hurt most! I am split like a kipper.”

Aiofe and Mabina carefully turned their brother over, found the huge slash still bleeding copiously and looked up at Penderol who grinned.

“By the God Cnab, he got that as he squirmed under Blueface’s last sword strike, when he squirmed up between Blueface’s legs! I saw the sword strike him. Well he’ll have a fine scar, but only those who saw the fight will know it was an honourable scar. Most will think he was running away! You’d better weave a fine saga and fast young ladies if you don’t want detractors to say he was a coward.”

So saying, he reached down and tenderly ran a warrior’s hands over the boy to check for any broken bones. Drustan winced when Penderol gently felt his ribs and found some broken ones.

“Aye lad, you’re a brave one and no mistake, but a crazy one. Your sisters are going to have to nurse you my lad. I think Blueface broke some ribs when that pile of butchery collapsed upon you.”

“And the cut on his arse?” Asked Mabina barely concealing her smile, partly through amusement but mainly from relief that her twin was alive.

“Oh it’s quite deep and it runs right under to his manhood." Penderol obsereved as he also hid his smile. Look he’s split like a kipper. The bleeding’s eased so lots of herbs and sympathy should do the trick.”

Penderol studied the ferocious wound more closely then gave his warriors opinion.

“You can’t put stitches all the way down there, you’ll block his arsehole. You’d best stitch down as far as his arsehole where the sword skidded sideways and slashed deep into his arse then leave the other bit to heal itself. They say you’re good with herbs as well as ships my girl, is that right?”

Mabina smiled as Penderol examined Drustan’s bloodied crotch.

“I’m a bit worried about where the sword tip nicked his manhood but it’s at the back of his balls and at least he’s still a man. That’s a cruel cut though. Best bring your herbs here girl.”

“They’re in the boat. I’ll get them.”

As Mabina hurried back to the beached Mermaid, Penderol turned to Aiofe and remarked.

“Herbs and ships. She’s one clever kid.”

“Aye. That she is,” Aiofe confirmed, “and she has letters, - and numbers.”

“By Matra’s holy womb! You children would be an asset to any tribe. Would you consider staying with us of the Dumnonii?”
Mabina wagged her head sadly.

“Would we be safe from the Norsemen?”

“If you all fight like your brother you’d be safe from Cnab himself! We’d love for you to stay my child.”

Mabina was fearful of causing offence by refusing so she let the remark go unanswered. Penderol recognised the girl’s tact and pressed the invitation no further. After all there was no certainty yet that the town of Bohor was still in Celtic hands. This thought brought Penderol back to reality as he remembered the other raid on the town..

“Dammit! The task is not yet finished. I wonder how the town of Bohor fares?”

He arranged for the ten least able warriors to attend to the wounded and dead then invited Mabina and Aiofe to ferry his remaining warriors to seek news or even assist if the fighting still prevailed.

Wearily the men agreed; it would do no good to have defeated the Norsemen up in the Val if the main seaport trading town of Bohor was lost to their tribe. They were however, grateful for the Angry Mermaid’s services once again.
The men searched the Viking corpses and took what weapons were better than their own; mainly swords for the Norsemen had plentiful supplies of high grade iron far to the north in the Fiord of Narv.

Reluctantly Penderol handed Blueface’s mighty sword to Drustan with a rueful smile.

“You’ve more than earned it lad, but it’ll be some years before your big enough to wield it. It’s the finest sword I’ve ever seen. I envy you.”

Drustan looked at the fine detailed Rhunic craftsmanship and sighed reluctantly as he lay in the boat while Mabina tended his sensitive and embarrassing wound. Drustan struggled to hold the sword upright and conceded defeat as he returned the huge weapon to Penderol.

“A sword must not sleep even when lying in wait for a new owner. You take it; use it until or unless I return for it when I am older, and bigger.”

Tears of appreciation filled Penderol’s eyes. ‘Here was a boy of honour!’ He thought; ‘a fine credit to his father Caderyn and his grandfather Erin, a boy he would gladly call as his own.’

With his brave and better armed Men, Penderol left the wounded to be tended as he returned to the battle. Mabina however demanded that Drustan be returned to the village.

On the speedy passage down the Val Penderol chatted with the two girls Mabina and Aiofe. They stopped briefly at the village jetty to land the wounded Drustan and spread the news of their victory and report the dead. The news left many women in tears, then they sped as fast as fast as the overloaded Mermaid could go.

To their relief the found the battle still ongoing. The town was just about holding its own and the sudden arrival of thirty extra, well armed allies from far up the Val gave them the final edge. It was a relieved citizenry who finally welcomed Penderol and his troop as they harried the Invaders from the sea and pinned the Norsemen once again between two ranks of Celts. As the last Norseman was taken down, the council leader met with the bloodied Penderol.

"By Cnab’s whiskers Penderol! What kept you?”

“Blueface and his butchers.”

“Blueface! Oh shit, then we are done for!”

“Blueface is dead brother! Look! This is his sword!”

“By the Gods! Are you saying you’ve beaten him?”

“Not I brother, a slip of a boy no less; Drustan ap Caderyn ap Erin and younger brother to this beautiful maid and twin to this brave little girl. This wonderful sword is his by rights and only mine to hold in trust until he is of age and body to wield it. I hope I have done the boy and the sword honour in this fight.”

“You’ve won haven’t you?” The council leader observed. “We’ve all won! So both you and the sword are not disgraced.” The council leader replied. Come let us assess the damage. Where is this remarkable boy?”

“He’s resting back at our village. He was wounded by Blueface before he killed the giant. His wounds are amusing; you will laugh when you learn where he has them, but they are truly honourable; doubly so for a boy of just thirteen summers. Now what’s left of my men would eat and rest first,” Penderol begged. “It’s been a hard and bloody day, two battles and much travelling. The girls as well if you please. I saw their bows add to the Viking dead. They are truly warrior queens. It was Aiofe the maid’s plan of ambush and lure that led to Blueface’s defeat, she is full of guile and cunning, we would never have defeated Blueface without her plan.

As for that boat, the Angry Mermaid, well; I hope I never fall foul of her anger; the girl child Mabina is a master of seamanship and quite amazing for one so young. We would never have mustered enough men to trap Blueface without her seamanship skills. Four boatloads of twenty plus she ferried and all in less than two hours. The boat is like a running horse. I would beg her secrets when we are yet rested and recovered."

As evening fell the Dumnonii breathed easy. Despite part of the town of Bohor being torched by the Norsemen, there was food and shelter enough to give the townsfolk and the visitors succour.

Mabina had made yet one more voyage back to pick up her brother and the other warriors as well as Udris who had cursed impotently on the opposite bank as he watched his older brothers gain all the glory. His tune soon changed when he learned of the carnage. Of his three brothers, but one survived unharmed, one other was wounded and the third dead. Despite the Celtic victory there was much pain and regret up and down the lengths of the Val and all her tributaries. Nevertheless it still irked Udris that Drustan, the slip of a boy, had gained huge battle honours. Udris little knew that Penderol had deliberately sent the boys out of danger because he had truly felt that his glorious few would not have seen the next dawn. The victory was truly down to Aiofe’s wit and guile.

There was little time for celebration for the damage had to be repaired and the dead sent to the gods. The only real gain to the Celts had been the acquisition of six fine long-ships plus whatever ships were still awaiting their leader Blueface’s return on the north shore of the Dumnonii Peninsular. After a few days rest, scouting parties were sent out but the northern ships had left. Somehow, news of the Viking’s defeat had filtered back to the Norsemen left to mind the ships. They had returned north with their tails between their legs to where disgrace awaited them.

In the town a skilled old white witch looked to Drustan’s wounds and fell silent when she treated his bloodied nethers. The blood puzzled her for it was not the fresh red blood of a new wound and it smelt bad. At first she thought the boy was gangrened but that could not be on the day the wound was suffered. She had trouble convincing herself that the blood was more like that which all women knew when the Goddess Samara paid her lunar calls but that was the conclusion she was forced to reach. She was puzzled though for the boy’s form seemed normal. He was well formed where men were different but there was some uncertainty
behind his balls. There was an additional opening that belied his proven masculinity and yet did not fully resemble a maid. The cruel cut of Blueface’s sword had left mutilation and uncertainty. However, to save the boy embarrassment after his proven courage, she told no-one. Not even the boy’s sisters.

The success of the Celtic victory meant it would be another fifty years before the Norsemen successfully arrived off the Dumnonii shores again and it was more an affiliation through honest trade than as conquering invaders. This however, was unbeknownst to the four and they wearily made further preparations for their next hoped for sanctuary. However, the four indulged their welcome and savoured a summer moon in the town of Bohor while Drustan mended his body. Later that same month, Drustan’s ‘Blueface wound’ revisited his crotch and bled inexplicably, although the cut was not painful. His stomach however was sore for a few days.

Finally the four adventurers expressed their wishes to be gone before the winter storms made trading all but impossible. Aiofe wanted desperately to meet with her moor again and possibly even wed him for that had been their mutual intention. They left Bohor having shared the secrets of The Angry Mermaid and that alone had made the Dumnonii grateful.

Finally, after many tearful farewells the four travellers took their leave of their Dumnonii cousins and the Angry Mermaid set sail south, south east for Brithony the mother country to all Celts and from whence they had first become seafarers after thousands of years wandering the northern plains of Europe. Brithony was a rich land and a land that enjoyed much intercourse with the Dumnonii. Wheat and oats for tin and copper were the main trades and it had served the Celtic tribes well.

There was still a Celto-Christian priest residing with the Dumnonii so with Latin letters of introduction from Penderol, the four used a fair wind to carry them further south and yet further away from their beloved Lleyn. Arina had been too afraid of being adopted by unknown adults of the Dumnonii tribe and she had elected to remain under Aiofe’s guardianship and tutelage. The three Acaman children, (for children they still were, though growing quickly,) were pleased and thankful for Arina’s choice. Eight eyes were always better than six to be shared around the sea watches.

On the passage, Arina learned much of open, sea journeying and by arrival in Brithony she was adept at seamanship and some coastal navigation. Aiofe had also continued teaching her the wonderful new numbers that the moor had so kindly taught the Acaman clan and also Latin letters.

Being a humble fisherman’s daughter, Arina had never been taught letters. It was only the happy trading accident and the previous onset of an early winter that had detained the moor long enough to teach the Acaman clan. They had much to thank the dark handsome man from far-off lands and Aiofe was desperately hoping to meet up with him again. She knew even before the Viking raid that her father and grandparents had given their blessings to the union so it was with a clear conscience that she sought her hoped for husband in either Brithony or Gaul.

‘But what of her younger siblings,’ she wondered, ‘would they also have to move the many days’ journeys to the moor’s home lands? And what of Arina?’

Aiofe had many worries as they finally sighted the rocky shores of Brithony.

Fortunately the weather was mild and an easy ‘lands’-man’s wind took them into a deep inlet sheltered where their Celtic tongue made them welcome at a small fishing village. The Brithons already knew of Blueface’s demise so the news of his killer’s arrival was particularly welcome and they willingly gave them supplies as a thank-you for the service Drustan had paid them. Such information and ensuing peace enabled the remote villages to lower their guard and devote more time to harvesting and fishing. Blueface’s death had a tangible material worth throughout the whole of the Celtic kingdoms.

After only two days stop, the villagers pointed them to the main city where the Brithon chiefs and council resided. It was here they would present their Latin letters of introduction to the high council. The villagers also provided a guide to take them through the infamous shoal waters that had brought disaster to many a fine ship. Mabina and Drustan paid particular attention to the local pilot’s navigation and instruction for such information was priceless in times of peril and pursuit.

Soon they came upon the wide Bae y Fron of which the Dumnonii had spoken. The descriptions of the city matched the advice that Penderol had given them and they stepped ashore to a huge crowd. News of Blueface’s death had raised huge interest and the high king was there in person no less to receive the letters of introduction and marque. The Gangani children did not know who to send ashore first so they stepped ashore as best they could together. Only Arina hesitated till last.