We kept low, Wihtred and I, not speaking, hardly moving as we strained our ears. The voices grew nearer. Two of them, both belonging to women. Young-sounding, I thought, although they were speaking too softly for me to make out what they were saying. Taking care not to make any sudden move that might give us away, I peered over the hollow log, trying to catch a glimpse of them.
And there they were. Two, just as I’d thought. Neither much older than you, girl. Sisters, although I didn’t know that until later and you wouldn’t have thought it to look at them. One was fair and short and the other dark and tall, and I supposed she was the elder of the two, although from where we were it was difficult to tell. What they were talking about, I don’t know, but they were laughing. The tall one had a knife sheath belted around her waist; they both wore gloves, and under their arms they were carrying holly boughs. Until I glimpsed those winter-green leaves I’d entirely forgotten that it was nearly Yule, as I think had everyone else in Cynehelm’s band.
A small part of me envied them. Even in those dark days, with everything that had happened and was still happening, they could still find cause for cheer. Still they went to gather holly to decorate their homes, just as they’d done every winter in good years and in bad. Still they were able to laugh.
‘Can you see them?’ Wihtred asked, too loudly for my liking, although anything that came out of his mouth was always too loud, in my opinion. I waved him quiet.
They were coming closer, picking their way around fallen boughs, under bare branches, trampling the dead bracken as they went, taking care over the thick layer of leaves that littered the ground, which the recent rain had made slippery. That was when I saw that they had a dog with them: not as large as one of Malger’s two great watch hounds, but a mangy grey-white thing that stood as high as the taller girl’s knee, with a shaggy coat and an ear that had been half bitten off. Hardly had I spotted it than it must have caught scent of us; its ears pricked up and it bounded towards us, barking, barking, barking.
I threw myself to the ground behind the trunk, and just in time too, as I heard one of the girls call out.
I cursed silently. Cursed the noisy beast and wished I could wring its miserable neck.
‘Did they see you?’ Wihtred asked, and all I could think was: shut up, shut up, shut up.
I told him to keep down and stay still. My heart was pounding as I lay there in the dirt. If we tried to move, the wretched thing was bound to hear us, but if we stayed where we were and didn’t make a noise then maybe, just maybe, the women would think it had smelt nothing more than some rodent or bird that it wanted to chase.
The animal was growling, and barking, and growling again, and Wihtred was whispering, asking what to do.
Nothing, I told him. We wait.
A rustling in the undergrowth. Footsteps, light upon the soft earth. Close, maybe ten paces away, I remember thinking. And then I could hear them talking. One was asking the dog what was the matter, and what had it found, while the other, the elder one, I think, was warning her to stay close in case there was danger, and that they should leave well alone, and, besides, everyone would be expecting them back soon. And then the first was asking, what sort of danger?
‘Rebels,’ the elder one said. ‘Wild men. I overheard the smith talking about some near Ascebi who were hiding out in the forest. Half-men without souls, who live up trees and eat the flesh of the people they kill.’
I know it sounds silly, but that’s what she said. We’d heard similar things before, for already those were the kinds of tales that people were telling about us, and about others like us. We reckoned the Normans were responsible for starting such rumours, to discourage folk from joining or helping us.
The younger one asked, ‘Where’s Ascebi?’
‘Not far away. Herestan said there had been a hall burning near Lucteburne, too.’
That was us, I remember thinking. We had been to Ascebi, and before coming to Stedehamm we had raided around Lucteburne, although they were all becoming one in my memory. Had those raids been last week or last month? I didn’t know any more.
‘The wild men wouldn’t hurt us, though, would they?’ the younger one asked. ‘I thought they only attacked the invaders—’