The Harrowing

I was only half-listening, because at the same time I could hear sniffing, growling and the padding of paws upon wet leaves on the other side of the trunk from where we lay. Wihtred glanced at me but I had no more ideas. Another bark; this one rang in my ears and made my blood freeze. I’ve never liked dogs, ever since I was nearly killed as a child by the steward’s deerhound.

It was a fearsome beast, the kind that would tear other dogs apart if given the chance, and word was going around that it had gone mad and that somehow it had got loose in the sheepfold. I didn’t know what was happening, except that there was bleating and there was snarling, and the sheep, those that still lived, were running in every direction, their fleeces spattered with red, and the dead ones’ necks had been savaged and their legs broken. All us youngsters rushed to watch while the men ran in with sticks and knives to try to kill it, but it was too quick for them, and too strong, and the next thing I remember was my father shouting at me from afar to run. I just stood there as it rushed at me, baring its teeth, which had strings of flesh and wool hanging from them, its muzzle slick and red-glistening. That was the first time I was ever truly afraid for my life. And the last.

I know, I know. I’m getting there, if you’ll let me.

I could hear the girls’ footsteps, so close now. The younger one was talking again to the dog, asking what had got him so excited. They were going to find us sooner or later, I realised, and it might as well be sooner.

I stood up. Wihtred hissed at me, asking what I was doing. But it was too late to have second thoughts.

The fair-haired girl was the first to see me. ‘Ymme!’ she shouted. ‘Look out!’

I wonder what I must have looked like to them. I hadn’t bathed in weeks; all my clothes had holes in them just as you can see now, and my face and arms were a mess of scratches and bruises.

Ymme didn’t scream. Neither of them did. She opened her mouth as if she was about to, but then froze, not knowing whether or not to run, or what she should do.

I said, It’s all right. We’re not going to hurt you.

They could tell that I wasn’t one of the foreigners, but at the same time they must have realised from my manner of speech that I wasn’t from those parts, and so she was suspicious.

‘Who’s “we”?’ Ymme asked, although I could hardly hear her above all the barking.

I glanced down at Wihtred, still crouching behind the log, looking at me as if I had lost my mind. Show yourself, I told him, or else I’ll drag you to your feet myself, and he did so grudgingly, as sullen as ever.

‘Two of you?’ she asked. ‘Or are there any more of you hiding there?’

Just two, I said. And you can call off your dog. We’re not going to hurt you.

The animal was running back and forth, circling me like a wolf might approach its prey, growling and snarling, but not in a crazed way like the hound that almost killed me when I was young; rather it was anxious and excited, eager to please. At the sound of her voice it stopped and lay down quietly on the ground, but it didn’t take its eyes off me. It wasn’t until she called a second time that it padded reluctantly back to her side. She crouched down, placing a hand on it to keep it still, while the younger one huddled close to her.

‘Who are you?’ Ymme asked us. ‘What are you doing here?’

And I told them. I started with our names and said that there were others elsewhere, a good twelve of us in all, and that we were warriors who had been with the ?theling’s army in the north and had been fleeing the king’s men ever since. I told her just what I’ve told you, about how we were carrying on the fight against the foreigners, how we had spent the past month in raids and ambushes, travelling from place to place, and that was how we came to be hiding in the woods.

‘Wild men,’ said the younger one under her breath, her eyes filled at the same time with apprehension and delight.

Ymme, though, had gone pale. ‘You have to go,’ she said. ‘All of you. You can’t stay here. Whatever it is you’re planning, you’re putting us all in danger just by being here.’

I assured her that we weren’t going anywhere.

‘Why here? Of all the places you could have chosen, why Stedehamm?’

‘Because of Malger,’ Wihtred blurted before I could stop him. ‘We’ve come to kill him.’

‘To kill him?’ asked the younger one. ‘You mean it?’

‘No,’ her sister said quickly. ‘No, you can’t. You mustn’t.’

Wihtred was frowning. ‘Why not?’

‘Because you can’t!’

Listen, I said, while silently cursing Wihtred. You mustn’t tell anyone we’re here. You have to promise us that. If word gets out—’

‘Do you know what will happen if you kill him?’ she asked. ‘None of us will be safe, and things will only get worse afterwards.’

I said, Worse than they are already? We’ve seen what he’s doing. He treats your folk like they’re his slaves. He deserves only death.

‘But don’t you see? Killing him won’t change anything. After him there’ll be another one just like him, except the next lord will be crueller than the last and will punish us all the more harshly, and so it will go on.’

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