Amber Treasure, The Read Online Free Page B

his body.
    I had admired it often before: it
was a great blade of shining steel, which my father polished every evening. It
had a bronze guard and a patterned pommel. He swung it swiftly round in an arc,
so it cut the air with a faint whooshing sound. Sunlight reflected off the
blade and for a few moments, I imagined my father in the role of the heroic
warrior in one of Lilla’s tales. His voice brought me back from my dreams.
    “This,” he said, with a proud
voice, “belonged to Cynric, my brother and your grandfather’s eldest son.
Before you were born, there was some fighting in the North. King Aelle was
always trying to find a way to defend us against the superior strength of the Welsh
kingdoms and make us stronger than they. One day, the chance came. The kings of
Eoforwic were not afraid of us, but they saw a threat in Bernicia, Firebrand’s
lands  around the River Tweed in the North. They marched there, but were slain
in the battle of Caer Greu,” he paused and looked at us, perhaps trying to see
if were following all of this. We had heard it all before, of course, but
listened attentively. He told it well, but not as well as Lilla.
    “Anyway,” he went on, “Aelle now
saw an opportunity to expand our holdings and secure our grasp on these lands
and he summoned the warriors. Your uncle Cynric went away to war and he fought
in several battles. In the last one, he was leading a small force of local men
from this area. He was sent away from the main army to prevent a relieving
force of Eboracii and Elmetae reaching the city. It was a hard battle and all
the men including him were slain, save one. However, they had died for a cause,
for the enemy army was defeated and ran away to Elmet. So, Eoforwic was finally
captured. Aelle won the war and our people have been safe ever since.”
    I glanced at Cuthbert. I knew his
grandfather was one of the men my uncle had been leading that day. The tale was
often told on feast days: it was the campaign that finally secured Deira as a
nation and had given us peace during my lifetime, just as the recent victory at
Lindisfarne had apparently assured the safety of Bernicia, our brethren in the North.
Cuthbert looked proud. Eduard, meanwhile, was staring at the sword with
longing.
    “Now, the main weapon used in
wars is the spear, but you will find that some men do own a sword too −
particularly men of rank and wealth, for blades are more costly to make,” my
father was saying, as he put the sword away.
    From the Villa came the sound of
a wooden spoon being clattered against an iron cooking pot and from the kitchen
door drifted the smell of herbs and cooked meat. The midday meal was ready. The
workers were making their way to the great barn where they sat down to broth,
bread and a goblet of ale. My father glanced that way and gestured with a finger.
    “Right then, off you go for food
now, but tonight after the evening meal, come to the east paddock and we will
begin,” he ordered.
    The afternoon seemed to last
forever but finally, after a meal that held little interest for us, Eduard,
Cuthbert and I rushed to the east paddock. We were the first there, but shortly
afterwards my father arrived and with him came Grettir. He was one of the older
men from the village and owned some land to the north, granted him by my
grandfather. My father turned to us and spoke.
    “Grettir here was with my brother
in the wars. He brought his body back for burial. He is the most experienced
fighting man in the village. I have asked him to teach you about weapons and
fighting, in the time he can spare.”
    We turned to look at Grettir. He
was a broad-shouldered man in his late forties with black hair and a beard,
both of which had wisps of grey and silver. He had not said much to me when we
had met before around the village, but had usually nodded and given a grunt of
acknowledgment. He was carrying a pair of wicker shields and some wooden mock
swords.
    My father went over to the gate
and