In this chapter Drustina resumes Queenship and diplomatic activities as well as taking Dalcimon's only son Andrar under her martial wing. The first glimmers of a defence pact amongst the countries of the North European plains start to ignite.

The Angry mermaid 63.

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 63.

Mabina. ... The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan .... Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin.... The twins grandfather.
Giana.... The twins grandmother
Caderyn.... The twins father.
Herenoie.... The twins wise and beautiful mother.
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.
Dryslwyn.... High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn.... Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab.... The moor who taught numbers.
Eric.... Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl.... Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel.... Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton.... Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia.... Arton’s wife.
Isobel.... Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel ... King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana.... Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus.... King of the Capetani.
Shaleen.... Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro.... Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar.... Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan.... The scullery maid.
Isaar.... Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie.... Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular.... Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala.... Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa.... Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega.... Tyrant King to the west.
Portua.... Portega’s grandson.
Jubail.... Old Fisherman.
Mutas.... Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia .... King of Malta.
Alviar.... Megalomaniacal bishop of Carthage. (Hates Drustina.)
Ethelia... Female healer who treats Drustina during her pregnancy.
Seripatese.... Drustina’s faithful horse.
Astos & Amitor.... Minor royalty who govern Alexandria. King and Twin Queen.
Meronee.... Nubian Queen of Nobatia The northern Kingdom of the Nubians.
Horam.... The Egyptian master Boat builder.
Muraa.... King Astos’s male partner.
Tuk.... Makurian general.
Fantu.... Makurian Captain.
Irene.... Emperor Leon’s only child.
Leon.... Byzantine Emperor.
Zano.... Byzantine general who defeats the Bulgars with Drustina’s help.
Urthos.... The Gaul elected captain of the 4th ship. Ex Barbary galley slave.
Horus... . Horam the boat-builder’s son.
Sister Catherine.... Leader of the pirate nuns.
Guthrun.... Jarl of Bornholm.
Etheline.... Guthruns’ wife the countess of Bornholm.
Seripatese.... Drustinas’ mare
Capenda.... Taras’ mare.
Athun... . Gay king of Dark Age Denmark.
Queen Elthorn.... King Athuns’ Consort.
Iselda.... Athun and Brendigan, younger (middle) sister.
Heingist.... Drustina’s loyal Danish navigator and pilot.
Brendigan.... Athun’s older sister and queen of Svenland.
Bjorn.... The captain of the Palace Guard. King Athun’s partner.
Morgan and Amethyst... Drustina’s twin children.
Dalcimon. ... Queen of West Friesia.
Andrar .... Prince of West Friesia (Dalcimon’s son.)

The Angry Mermaid 63 

After lying off for a second night, Drustina’s men and ships were well rested. Sister Catherine and the other ex nuns were crewing their own ship, which served amongst the Danish trading fleet as the auxiliary supply ship to Drustina’s fighting ships. The saved slave women were left with Sister Catherine who worked closely with the Danish traders to harmonise the combined fighting fleet and merchant convoy functions. As dawn broke the slow trading vessels started inwards to the mouth of the estuary while Drustina’s ships worked in pairs sweeping the inlets and islands to ensure there were no more nasty Viking surprises.

By noon they had arrived at the abandoned village where Dalcimon and the women had been captured. For want of anywhere better amidst the vast marshes, the mound resumed its defensive function and the whole fleet set to repairing the defences and abandoned houses. Fortunately the Viking raiders had not razed the site and Drustina concluded they had probably intended returning or indeed settling permanently.

As her men and the Danish traders busied themselves with repairs, Drustina interrogated the Frankish and Friesian women about the surrounding lands. Queen Dalcimon drew maps as best she could from memory whilst Andrar described as many places as he could remember when out hunting or visiting other places with his father. Finally, the village of Hoek was back to its original circumstance and apart from the butchered menfolk, a normality of sorts had returned to the island. The several hundred Danish traders remained at the village while Drustina sent out her men to search the surrounding islands and inlets to try and establish some sort of normality. It was fully three days before Urthos and Eric returned with news of the first settlement that had not suffered from the Viking predations.

“It’s some fifty miles upriver Dru. Those bloody raiders have spread mayhem and murder for hundreds of square miles throughout the region.”

“But why? I wonder.” Drustina mused. “D’you think they’re softening up the region to create a new colony of their own?”

“They’d be hard put,” Carl opined. “Once the Saxons and Friesians get wind of the extent of the invasion they’d mount a full scale defence. Believe me Dru, there are a hell of a lot of Saxons and Friesians living on the northern plains stretching from the sea to the great Alps. They’ll be swarming all over this place once they know the Vikings are raiding these shores.”

The following morning it was decided to hold a full moot with everybody attending. Queen Dalcimon was surprised when she learned that everybody was expected to attend it. She mentioned her concerns to Drustina.

“Your Majesty I am surprised; you have the common women attend these councils.”

Drustina shook her head in resigned anger.

“Dammit! Dalcimon; am I not ‘a common woman? I was born to a family of common boat-builders. Not for me the proud title or duchess or lady; not for me the easy ascent into the ranks of nobility or even royalty. Every one of these scars counts as coin that bear’s witness to my costs whilst climbing the hill to fortune. And heavy payment I might add; for the scars are many and the price was high! I have known little but war and death since I was driven from my homeland at an age younger than your precious son Andrar. Do you think my titles and fame were not hard won? Do not speak low of ‘common people’ for it is common people who toil that you should live at ease. And speak not so contemptuously of women either.

Am I not a woman? Is Sister Catherine not a woman? Is Tara my sister not a woman? Speak to them of their stories; indeed speak to the nuns who became wives to my men. We warriors and all the wives alike have endured the same hardships. Each of our band has a right to speak and many a good idea has come from the ranks of the women. Besides; what of homes and fields and food and water? What of rearing our children?

The women know about these things every bit as much as men. Our fleet depends upon its stomach and that means finding unplundered towns where we can trade for food. To this end, Carl and Eric are tomorrow morning setting forth to take the news of our arrival and the Viking defeat as far inland to the Saxon tribes as they can.

Urthos, being a Gaul would have trouble amongst the Friesians and Saxons but he will fare better amongst the Franks so he is spreading the word to the south and west. Meanwhile, I and the bulk of my men will remain here with the Danish traders to rebuild this foetid swampy mound into a trading town of some substance. We have a monumentous task but we have experience of this work, our first task is to make shelter for everybody. Just look about you and what do you see. Men and women working to make shelter for all before the night. You might be better thought of if you stopped poncing about and got your bloody hands dirty.”

Dalcimon released a shocked gasp at such forthright comment and twp pink spots of anger betrayed her anger.

“If my husband were alive you would be punished for such impudence.”

“If your husband were alive it would mean this village would still be alive. Even your own son is working; look down there!”

Dalcimon’s eyes followed Drustina’s finger to see her son slaving waste deep in water and mud as he struggled alongside Carl and Urthos to build a pier in the river. For a moment she was shocked to think of her son doing filthy manual work but a closer look told her that Andrar was actually enjoying himself. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed with remorse as she realised her son, no less, was working amongst men. At that moment she saw Urthos say something to her son and her son burst out laughing while Carl smiled benignly. It was obvious that her son was finding solace and happiness in the hard dirty work. Then she looked up to see that Eric had catamaraned two of the fat trading ships to fashion a simple dredger that was spooning mud from the river to the land. Further downstream, Sister Catherine’s auxiliary ship was returning from the storm beach with a load of precious stone to add durability to the jetty. The nuns had been gathering stones to build enduring walls. That would withstand the damp rot of the river.
She turned to speak to Drustina only to find that the Warrior queen was already attending another matter as she seemed to be flitting from place to place organising work. Dalcimon realised that only Drustina carried the charisma and authority enough to supervise and give the few orders necessary as well versed gangs went about their specific tasks. The imagery served only to create more remorse in Dalcimon and she rushed over to the kitchen to assist in cooking the huge communal meal. One of the few tasks she knew she could do well. Within minutes she found herself so engrossed in work she had forgotten the seeming insult served up by Drustina.
At noon the sonorous bell boomed out the commencement of the moot and people appeared in all states of dishevelment as they plonked themselves down after grabbing some of the stew the cooks had prepared. Drustina was standing with one foot on a log as she wolfed down the welcome food and discussed an agenda with Sister Catherine who had been elected scribe.

As calm settled on the meeting, everybody ate, Drustina tapped the bell gently with her sword to capture everybody’s attention.

“I’ve a list here of tasks with priorities. As I read them out I want suggestions and additions for I might have missed something important.”

A murmur of agreement rumbled through the moot and Drustina’s voice started to spell out the items. Dalcimon watched as hands went up and suggestions were added as Sister Catherine and two of her acolytes scribbled furiously. The Frankish queen was impressed by the speed and simplicity with which decisions were reached by a common consensus. As a young girl she often sat in on council meetings in the Frankish kingdom and seen the constant strife and bickering between the king and the nobles as each individual sought to curry favour with her uncle and push forward his own agenda. Drustina’s moot had proven to be a quick, efficient tool and all completed during the lunch hour when men and women were eating and resting. Virtually no work time had been lost. During the afternoon, Dalcimon could not find Drustina until the stone ship returned from the storm beach loaded with another load of precious stones. Drustina’s fingers were cut and her nails broken from the work of breaking the stones out of the sand and rubble. Dalcimon then realised that the Lioness of Carthage was not ‘all talk’! She led by example.

That night Dalcimon was surprised to find she slept the night through only to be roused by Drustina’s sister, Tara shouting at the children to get up. She spoke to Tara.

“You have two beautiful twins there.”

Tara grinned.

“They’re not mine, they’re Dru’s. I’m their aunt. Dru’s my sister.”

Dalcimon stared stupefied.

“What she’s had children!!?”

“She has six and twenty years my lady; I would be more surprised had she not.”

“But the father, what of him?”

“I know nothing of the father that was before my time, before she won me back my freedom.”

“What, you were a slave also?”

Tara just wagged her head and turned to attend the children but Dalcimon pressed her questions.

“Please; I want to know. This woman, this Lioness, who amongst you knows the full story?”

Tara frowned. She knew full well of her one-time brother now sister’s duality but she knew nothing of the times in the middle sea when Drustan’s maidenhood appeared. Those questions were best answered by Carl and Eric and Urthos, the loyal and grateful lieutenants who had stuck by her through thick and thin, fire and blood, ice and hunger, war and peace. Only those three could tell most of the story and their lips were shut tighter than the limpets on the shore. Tara sighed as the children joined her for breakfast. Over the breakfast circle Tara elaborated.

“Listen Dalcimon, just heed this. Most of the so called myths you have heard, most of the stories you hear men and women tell of her, have got large elements of truth. She doesn’t talk about it much. Real heroes rarely do. Just be thankful she is not a covetous woman. Of all the riches she could have had bestowed upon her by grateful sovereigns, of all the lands she could have ruled by right of conquest or liberation; she seeks only to return in peace and freedom to our beloved homeland of Lleyn. A small peninsular where we as children grew up, a land that I also would love to see again. That is my sister’s only motivation but woe betide anybody who tries to deflect from that objective by detention or force. Now enough of chit-chat. I have work, like everybody else. Carl and Eric depart for Saxony today while Urthos seeks to treaty with your people, the Franks. Perhaps if you were to compile some letter to present to the Frankish chieftains or even your uncle the Frankish king, it might ease Urthos’s transit through his realms, for Urthos is after all a Gaul, and I know not of how Franks and Gauls lie. We all here know that the Saxons and the Friesians are almost one people; it is hard these days to slide a sword blade between them they are in such tight allegiance.”

Tara’s words struck a note with Dalcimon, if she wrote such a letter, it might endear her to Drustina; perhaps even enter her into the Lionesses’ confidence. She nodded to Tara and slipped away to seek pen and parchment.
There was much bustle in the camp when Dalcimon appeared at Drustina’s side for Eric and Carl were about to depart. Last minute notes were being written and finally, an hour late, the two Saxons set off for Saxony. It was only then that Drustina could spare a moment for Dalcimon.

“Yes my lady, what is it you want?”

“I have compiled a letter to my uncle the king; it is visa for Urthos to cross all Frankish baronies betwixt my lands and my Uncle’s castle, thence onward to the border with Gaul.”

To Dalcimon’s surprise, Drustina studied the Latin script and nodded appreciatively.

“Thank-you my lady, this will ease his journey, I must confess I had reservations about sending Urthos through the Frankish kingdom but needs must if your peoples are to defeat the Viking threat.”

Dalcimon frowned, it was the first time she had seen Drustina actually read a script. On each previous occasion she had seen The Lioness leave the scribing to Sister Catherine.

“I did not realise you could read. You never cease to amaze me, are you sure you were born a commoner?”

Drustina sighed and wagged her head at Dalcimon’s unintended insult.

“Listen my lady, apart from speaking many languages including Cymraeg, Breton, Iberian, Moorish, Latin, Greek, Egyptian, Goth, Russ, Polski, Saxon and Norse; I also read and write Latin, Greek, Hebrew and some Hieroglyphs. I also understand many runic symbols. D’you think for one moment I could treat with kings if I had no letters?”

Dalcimon’s jaw sagged as she bit her lip. It seemed that every time she opened her mouth she caused offence to ‘The Lioness’.

“I’m sorry your majesty. I should have realised. I am so sorry.”

Drustina sensed the despondency in Dalcimon’s demeanour and she softened her mood. She been tense and busy organising Carl and Eric’s mission then she had yet to get Urthos on the road. She settled on a log and invited Dalcimon to join her.

“Listen Dalcimon, may I call you by your given name?”

“Yes, yes, please do. I fear the formality gets in the way.”

“It does my lady, believe me it does. You can readily see how free-talking my lieutenants are with me. It means we get quickly to the nub of any problem. We discovered long ago that formality gets in the way of function, especially when blood is flowing”

Dalcimon bit her lip again.

“Yes. I could readily see that but ... but I felt it would have been presumptuous of me to treat with you with the same familiarity. If there is one thing you have taught me it is that respect must be earned. I had not earned the right to speak to you in such a familiar manner.”

Drustina wagged her head and smiled.

“Am I really that fearsome? Truly Dalcimon, I am but a woman after all.”

Dalcimon snorted involuntarily as she squawked.

“Bloody hell Drustina! You just put a Viking war fleet to a total rout. Nobody hereabouts has ever managed to do that before.”

Drustina glanced down and chuckled as she raised her eyelashes and fluttered them in a mock gesture of modesty.

“It was only six long-ships my lady; hardly a war fleet. You flatter me.”

Dalcimon was not to be dissuaded though.

“No! I do not flatter you. It was a force of nearly five hundred Norsemen all armed to the teeth. They laid waste to my lands and others to a total of fifty or more miles in all directions. That is a war in my parlance! My God Drustina, do you not realise what this means to your reputation. The Franks, Friesians and Saxons will tell sagas of this battle for generations to come.”

“Battle!?” Drustina squeaked. “It was hardly a battle, six Viking longships, six of my ships and a dozen lumbering Danish merchant-men who fought well I might add. To me that was nought but a raiding party, albeit a very violent and unnecessarily cruel one. We had to kill them all, that way their end remains a mystery to the Norse king. Their slaughtering all your menfolk only tells me they had plans to return to colonise the estuary.

When Harald Coldblood eventually realises that his expedition will not return, he will think twice about attacking this coast in the future. If he does, you Franks and the Friesians had better be ready. That is what my emissaries are all about ... organisation.”

“That is what my uncle and father were about when I was married to the West Friesian king; it was nothing but a political pact. We all understand the importance of this estuary and the river that makes it.”

“Good, I understand that, but now your peoples will understand the urgency.

“What happens if this ... this Norse king attacks before we are ready.”

“That is not an option; that is why I am posting emissaries to all who are affected. The Friesians, the Franks, the Saxons and even the Gauls.

“Will they listen, will they act?”

Drustina shrugged

“I don’t know Dalcimon. I can only try to help them. If they don’t want to be helped then I can do no more. I resume my own course, my own ambitions.”

“Which are?”

Drustina felt tired. Talking to Dalcimon had clarified some of the issues she faced. It seemed that the Vikings would forever be her nemesis, her bane. She sighed.

“Oooohh it doesn’t matter what my aspirations are Dalcimon. Let’s just try and sort this mess out shall we. Is there anybody else to whom you can write; you know beyond your uncle’s realm, someone among the Gauls?”

Dalcimon wagged her head. As a niece and the only female relative of the Frankish king she had grown up knowing she would never be anything but a bargaining chip. A bride to barter for political ends. Until she had encountered the Lioness, Dalcimon had never even dreamt that a woman could have a free will, have control of her own life. Since meeting the Lionesses’ band and talking to the ex nuns who had bravely chosen to renounce their heavenly vows and freely enter into marriages with men of their mutual choosing, Dalcimon had had her eyes opened. So much so that now, here she was talking freely and without reservations to a legend whose fame was known in every nursery in every castle in Europe. Now she was discussing major issues, destinies of nations. She almost had to pinch herself to convince herself she was not dreaming.

As if to reinforce her sense of fantasy, Urthos appeared to join Drustina in bidding the Saxon’s farewell and then Dalcimon had an insight into the mundane pressures of leadership. No sooner had Eric and Carl disappeared around the first bend than Drustina and Urthos were bent over the crude maps that Dalcimon had drawn from memory, while she discussed a possible route with her lieutenant. Drustina glanced over her shoulder and called casually to Dalcimon.

“What’s the best and fastest route to your Uncle’s castle?”

Dalcimon felt a surge of pride as she took a pen and inscribed the map with route-markers and pointers as she described salient features to be used as land-marks.

The following morning the departure scenes were repeated as Urthos took his leave of Drustina and set out to meet Dalcimon’s uncle, the Frankish king.

While the lieutenants were on their missions Dalcimon received a practical education in rebuilding a town. Amongst the Danish traders were some émigré’ families of stonemasons who quickly set about building first a stone jetty and then a small but secure fortification around the original mound of Hoek. Within four weeks, Dalcimon could hardly believe the degree of progress as she slaved away driving one of the crude wagons that had been quickly fashioned to ferry the beach stone from the new jetty to the town walls. At the end of the month, her delicate royal hands had been roughened to resemble a builder’s fists as she lifted, hauled and discharged stones as and where required. It was a clear demonstration to her that in Drustina’s band, nobody but nobody shirked!
Fully six weeks after their departure, Dalcimon was rudely woken by the signal horn that declared Eric and Carl’s return. As she erupted from her warm but lowly bed she rushed eager for news to the South gate where Eric and Carl were marvelling at the new town wall and teasing Drustina.

“Bloody hell Dru, where’s your whip? Eric hooted. “You must have worked like the Trojans to achieve this.”

“We did!” Dalcimon interrupted ruefully as she held up her cracked and bloodied fingers.

“Oh well done girl!” Eric grinned. “A girl who knows how to work is a girl I could get to like!”

Drustina caught the predatory glint in Eric’s eye and she grinned to herself.

‘Now there’s a match and she’s not a bad looker either.’ Drustina mused.

She then turned to Carl.

“So gentlemen, what news have you?”

“The east Friesian king and the Saxon king both wish to meet you.”

“That can be easily arranged. We can invite them here to meet the Frankish king ... and possibly the king of Gaul as well though that would take some time.” Drustina replied.

“There’s other news as well.” Eric added. “Both kings think you should become queen of this region, they have sent their epistles stating they would accept your claim to the country of the estuary.”

He dipped into his messenger bag and presented the pertinent letters. Drustina scanned them and frowned.

“I can’t accept these offers, besides, this land is not theirs to give.”

“It says in the third letter that they recognise your right of title through victory in battle.”

Drustina snorted with disgust.

“That’s rubbish. I didn’t stuff a few Vikings simply to carpet-bag a whole bloody country. This land belongs to the rightful monarch Dalcimon.”

Carl intervened.

“Firstly the Saxon king told us the Franks won’t normally recognise a queen and secondly, they feel the area needs a strong king, experienced in battle to stave off any Viking threats.”

Drustina snorted again.

“Don’t they realise it was a queen that sent the Vikings packing on this occasion?”

Eric and Carl chuckled knowingly.

“Dru, you’re something special and every King in Europe knows it. That’s why they feel you’d be best suited.”

“Well I won’t oblige them. You two most of all have known my single aim ever since we met. Lleyn, Lleyn, Lleyn. That was always my target, always my ambition.”

The two lieutenants nodded sagely, Drustina’s words were true.

“So what now then dear queen?” Carl grinned.

Drustina flushed and smiled. It wasn’t often that Carl used the title 'queen'.

“Dalcimon resumes her throne, Andrar will have to learn of kingship and fast. He’s fifteen and a prince, he should already have some idea. By the gods, did not you two have swordsmanship skills by that age?”

Both lieutenants nodded.

“Well I’m sure he has as well. Go and fetch him.”

A runner was despatched and Drustina settled on what had become her stump. The remains of a tree felled during the reconstruction of the town. She spoke again.

“But that still doesn’t solve the main problem. Dalcimon has virtually no men at arms to defend against a Viking attack. The four kingdoms will have to rally around and pretty quickly."

“That’ll be a first!” Eric observed.

“Yeah, well needs must. Urthos will be back soon and then we can thrash some ideas out. The Danish traders wish to get on as well. They’ve already missed nearly two months of spring and summer for trading in Dane ‘law.”

“Yeah, but they’ve now got a further option. Hoek will become an excellent trading port and the river provides a vast trading route far inland.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Eric added, “The traders who accompanied us said there were some splendid opportunities and their ships can travel many, many miles inland.”

“They’ve earned that right to trade freely because of their support in the battle. Those rights are more than adequate compensation for the loss of a couple of months trading. I’ll have a word with their trading masters. Perhaps six ships can resume passage to Britannia and six can remain here and develop links up the river. It’s also in their interest to have a safe, deep port where they can maintain their ships. Hoek will be ideally situated.”

“That makes sense,” Carl agreed as he turned to Dalcimon who had remained silent throughout the talking. “What are your feelings my lady?”

Dalcimon was still recovering from the surprise that she was being allowed to keep her queendom. She had fully expected to lose everything to Sallic Law. Once again the Legendary Lioness had surprised her and also educated her. Since hearing of Drustina’s disinterest in grabbing a whole country she had to admire the woman. She was almost in tears as she replied.

“If I get to keep my country, I would certainly let the Danes trade freely. Drustina is right, they have truly earned that privilege. I might also add, they would be a welcome force for the continued construction of the harbour and the town not to mention expansion of trade. This much I do know, trade brings wealth.”

Drustina nodded knowingly.

“Amen to that. So for now we continue building apace until Urthos returns. I’ll call a moot tomorrow morning. Business needs to be thrashed out with the Danes. I’m tired of all this dealing and wheeling. Now where’s that boy. I need to test his mettle. If he’s to become a king he can test his swordsmanship against my hand.”

Dalcimon paled.

“Go easy on him please, he’s my only son.”

Drustina chuckled.

“I don’t intend to kill the poor lad Dalcimon. But his sword arm is far too weak to take on Eric or Carl. While he’s young and not yet filled out, he will have to do as I do, move quickly and have a fast, accurate sword. He could be facing Vikings before this sailing season is out, let alone next year.”

As she finished, Andrar appeared.

“Who could be facing Vikings?” He asked.

As one, Eric Carl and Drustina turned to face him with a one word answer.

“You!”

Andrar paled and looked to his mother.

“Am I allowed to Mummy? You’ve always frowned upon my training.”

Dalcimon turned red with embarrassment and rushed to explain to Drustina.

“I’ve always felt that education was more important. His father agreed not to have him train until he was sixteen.”

“Well reality changes things,” Drustina replied, “He’ll have to learn and learn fast.”

She turned to Andrar and pointed to a spare sword that hung on the post supporting her tent.

“Use that and come at me.”

Eric and Carl stepped back to make space and the boy eagerly grasped the spare ‘lady sword’ that was Drustina’s signature weapon.

He struck a pose then lunged only to find there had been no clash of swords but Drustina’s blade was already pricking his throat. His eyes widened as he croaked.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“Practice lad, practice. Try again. As I said, you need agility and good footwork.”

Andrar now approached warily and Drustina had to parry his strike before disarming him with a deft flick. His sword fell on the ground behind him and he stared stupidly at his unharmed, empty hand. After ten minutes more of fencing Drustina called a halt and explained.

“That’s enough for tonight. I’ve still got letters to read. Tomorrow, after work, we’ll have a good hour’s practice. Go and eat.”

Andrar thanked her, smiled at his mother Dalcimon then scurried off to the food tent. As the only male aged fifteen in the camp, Andrar was having to grow up quickly amongst men. Only that day he had been loading the stones from the storm beach to the ship then unloading them onto the new pier. After eating, he was quickly asleep and his mother turned to Drustina with a relieved grin when she came upon his comatose form.

“Well at least he isn’t pestering the girls. He’s too tired.”

“Harrumph”, Eric growled. “The work’ll do him good!”

“Come on, it’s our turn to eat.” Drustina added.

~~ooo000ooo~~