The Impossible Journey

By James T Brown

From the dying lips of an old Druid, a prophecy was given to Masada. It was a look into the future of his yet unborn child. “One day your son will become a great leader even someday a king”. The child was a son and now nineteen years later he was a man. It was a time of change; the Romans had long gone and the vacuum left behind created chaos. The year was 450AD, the year Britannia became a magnet for those who wished to abandon a war-ravaged Europe. Saxons took over the south, Angles settled in the north east, the Celtic tribes ruled the western hills and the Britons became strangers in their own land. Against this turbulent background, one man took upon himself an impossible journey. One that began with a marriage to a beautiful princess and ended with the saving of a nation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728353654

James T Brown

James Brown, a retired electrician living at home in Warrington Cheshire with Ann, his wife. Served in the British Royal Navy for eight years fulfilling a dream to see the world and experiencing many unforgettable moments. First book entitled ‘A Reason to Live’ was written after a near fatal accident and writing it helped to enable a full recovery.

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2020 James T. Brown. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/11/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-5366-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-5365-4 (e)

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

SYNOPSIS

F rom the dying lips of an old Druid a prophecy was given to Masada. It was a look into the future of his yet unborn child. one day your son will become a great leader even someday a king. The child was a son and now nineteen years later he was a man. It was a time of change; the Romans had long gone and the vacuum left behind created chaos. The year was 450AD, the year Britannia became a magnet for those who wished to abandon a war-ravaged Europe. Saxons took over the south, Angles settled in the north east, the Celtic tribes ruled the western hills and the Britons became strangers in their own land. Against this turbulent background one man took upon himself an impossible journey. One that began with a marriage to a beautiful princess and ended with the saving of a nation.

Start by doing what is necessary, then do what is possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible

St Francis of Assisi

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 First Command

Chapter 2 The King’s Word

Chapter 3 The Painted Warriors

Chapter 4 Duty To Be Honoured

Chapter 5 The Allure That Was Julia

Chapter 6 A Strange Visitor

Chapter 7 The Delegates Mission

Chapter 8 The Celtic Code

Chapter 9 The Dual

Chapter 10 Fanon The Scot

Chapter 11 Repentance

Chapter 12 A Girl Called Puttie

Chapter 13 A Welcome Visitor

Chapter 14 A Celtic Wedding

Chapter 15 The Lord Protector

Chapter 16 The Judgement

Chapter 17 The Resurgence

Chapter 18 Craig Moor

Chapter 19 Treachery

Chapter 20 The Grandfather’s Name Lives On

Chapter 21 The Man With The Wooden Cross

Chapter 22 Revenge

Chapter 23 A Druid’s Sacrifice

Chapter 24 Sorrow Follows Ecstasy

Chapter 25 A Favour Returned

Chapter 26 Aelfnod’s Choice

Chapter 27 The Peacemaker

Chapter 28 Banishment

Chapter 29 The Making Of A Kingdom

Chapter 30 A Warning

Chapter 31 The Heartfelt Plea

Chapter 32 The Saviour Returns

Chapter 33 An Unlikely Offer

Chapter 34 The Truth Is Told

Chapter 35 False Promises

Chapter 36 The Saxons Treachery

Chapter 37 From Despair To Elation

Chapter 38 Circind Beckons

Chapter 39 A Strange Christening

Chapter 40 Gabriel’s Drama

Chapter 41 A Strange Plea

Chapter 42 The Land Of Ce

Chapter 43 Cedric The Saviour

Chapter 44 The Devils From The Sea

Chapter 45 Faith Is Needed

Chapter 46 Paradise Awaits

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CHAPTER 1

FIRST COMMAND

T he haunting sound of horses and the clinking sound of armour rattling with menace drew near. A sound so familiar to those that had faced the devil’s disciples; The Hun. The last remnants of the Angle tribe awaited their fate. All that remained were old men, women and children, all able-bodied warriors long gone. Over a hundred fully armed Hun warriors surrounded the beleaguered Angles, led by the notorious General Balimber. He had blazed a trail of bloodshed, a man bereft of mercy. A dark bushy beard hid his evil smile, his eyes a deep penetrating black, a blackness as dark as his empty soul. With the carefree attitude of a man who held the lives of many in his hands he dismounted and called for his son Roué to join him. His son was not the image of his father, far from it. Long flowing golden locks flowed serenely down to his shoulders. He was twenty years old, handsome and only a scar above his right eye marred him from the perfect example of the master race. Balimber held his son’s hand, his eyes filled with hatred bear witness my son, now you will see how we treat these worthless animals. Balimber, a general in the mighty Attila’s army had been given the task of pursuing the Angle tribes, to crush, to subdue, to deliver complete annihilation.

It had been a long tiresome year that the general had endured, eager to join the fight against the Romans he had been frustrated by the Angle’s resistance, now at last his mission was at an end. Roué was a man who had seen sights no man twice his age could ever imagine. He could see what his father’s intentions were, but before him all he could see was a pitiful sight, women, children, old men, shivering, hungry and desolate, each knew their fate The Huns fury was well known, wherever they trod, terror followed. Roué however saw something, that touched him deeply, from each of the Angle’s eyes, a look of defiance shone, no cry for mercy, no sign of submission, just an acceptance of their fate. Having witnessed his father’s actions many times, ruthlessly destroying all before him, he knew the true meaning of his father’s words, but this was no army they faced, no honour would be attained here. Roué felt a burning desire, he needed to change his father’s plan, he had to speak, whatever the outcome, his mind was set. Looking around him, he could see the lustful look on the Hun warrior’s eyes, to them the spoils of war where there for the taking, no matter what or how small. Taking a deep breath, courage this day must be his, the time to speak his mind was at hand, father, have we not killed enough? Have we not raped and pillaged enough? Does the great Atilla only demand total annihilation? Have we forsaken honour forever?. Balimber was left stunned to hear his son’s words, he felt a deep shame, to hear his son plead for mercy in front of his men, it was a sign of weakness, to him Angles were mere animals, to be treated as such. Trying as best as he could to remain calm, he answered Roué my beloved son, do not let pity sway your heart, we have a task to perform, what would you have me do? Leave them to starve in this wasteland, surely it is better to kill the old men, the women would prove great sport for our warriors, and the children would be grateful for a life under the guidance of the Huns. Every eye focused on the young man, had he crossed the line? to defy the general could easily bring forth an early death. Roué now knew he was gambling with his life, for what? He asked himself silently, but he had made his choice, the dice was cast, let it roll, Father, isn’t it obvious what has happened here, the Angle warriors have crossed the sea to Britannia, to establish a new settlement, they fear the Hun, you my lord are victorious. Let these people join them it will rid this land of the Angles, your mission will be complete, the land will be ours. Balimber laughed out loud, as did the rest of the Hun warriors, Balimber looked at his son, his mind a little confused, was his son a dreamer, had he sired a madman? what world do you live in my son? who will row the boats? Old men, women? Perhaps the children will navigate, let things be as they are, we are the masters, we will decide their fate Balimber replied, his men agreed. Roué had proved himself many times in battle, he was as fearless as any man, his fellow warriors respected him, he was popular, friendly and jovial to each man, up until this moment his father was proud of him, now he was unsure.

Roué took a deep breath before he spoke, it could be the defining moment of his short life, father, I honour you above all men, your wisdom and your knowledge, I have always embraced, but if you recall you once told me, to become a man, one must follow his convictions. With your permission, I will accompany these people to Britannia, they are old men, women and children, let them join their clansmen, your mission is achieved, for me it would be a chance to finally prove myself. I cannot complete this task alone, I will need at least ten volunteers, men with the heart of a lion, the stealth of a tiger, and the belief of a seer, that is my wish father, however I will abide by your judgement

Balimber was stunned, this was the first time he had be questioned, but he could see a new resurgence in his son, let him prove himself as a leader, or perish in the quest. Balimber came close to his son before he gave his consent my son you may have the wisdom of a fool, or the wisdom of the greatest mind that ever lived, however I will sanction your foolhardy venture, but pray tell me how you can find ten foolhardy souls to follow you, if you can then they are yours. This was the moment, to recruit ten volunteers, land dwelling people on a mission that had no monetary purpose, it would be unsurmountable. Roué now felt alone, he was in the hands of his fellow comrades. It became a moment when the soldiers would search into their soul, a soul their never knew they had.

Roué, prayed for a sign, something that could sway the warriors. But the gods can be merciful and an answer to his prayer would be given. Soaring above in the blue sky, a falcon flew, eagerly searching for its prey. The warrior’s eyes followed the falcon’s path, totally absorbed. With the grace of an angel, it swooped low, its prey targeted. Fiercely it grabbed its prey, a small furry animal, it’s life at the mercy of the mighty falcon, just a tasty snack. The victim, however had its own idea, not ready to accept defeat, it valiantly tried to defend itself. With great determination, agility, and a strong will, it managed to eradicate itself from the falcon’s vice like grip, and quickly ran under a nearby rock. A disappointed falcon rose to the sky once more, another victim to pursue, the scales of destiny had tipped towards the oppressed. The mood now became sombre, perhaps the young man could be right, was this a sign? was that the reason the warriors felt this way, or was it just the adventure they sought, or was it the love and respect they had for Roué. Whatever the reason twenty warriors stepped forward, each man willingly offering their services. Balimber was totally confused, but he inwardly felt admiration for his son, he now knew he had not sired a madman, but a visionary, his hand had been forced and his pronouncement was clear choose your men wisely, my son, I wish you well, may the god’s guide your path and I will eagerly await your return, I am sure it will be a great adventure, but always remember who you are

Roué bowed his head in homage to his father, now he must deliver a speech to his brave volunteers I am truly grateful for your trust in me, you are all worthy, the cream of our army, therefore I accept you all, but I must warn you, we have to cross an unpredictable sea, we may face an hostile reception, we may all die, so I tell you now, do not feel ashamed if you wish to withdraw. The moment had arrived, he had told the painful truth, they must decide. It was then the warriors decided, the twenty warriors unsheathed their swords and banged them against their shields, it sounded like thunder, but this was a statement of intent, it was a sign, they were with him.

Roué was filled with pride, at last he had his own command, albeit a small band, but he was no longer under the shadow of his father, and he had the belief that his cause was just. A just cause it maybe, but a sudden realisation struck Roué, although valiant warriors, who would face the devil himself, they had never sailed the seas before nor had they steered any vessel. These were men of the Steppes, they could navigate by the stars, vast areas of barren land could be easily explored, but the sea was different, to them it was plagued by monsters, a mass of water, it’s wrath unknown. The journey it seemed was over before it began. Beguine, a young ambitious warrior could see the anguish in his leader’s face, it was an adventure he was eagerly anticipating, he stepped forward and whispered in Roué’s ear lord forgive my intervention, but I feel I must speak, you fear the sea, or I should say the lack of experience our men have, may I suggest we call upon the people we are about to save to guide us. A smile appeared on Roué’s face, no one had ever dared to approach his father in this manner, now this young man felt confident to offer advice to his superior, he felt a deep affinity with his men, from the mouth of youth, could it be the solution that he needed.

The words spoken by the young warrior caused Roué to rethink his plans, he looked at the Angles, old men, women, children, he was at a loss, but maybe they could help, after all it was their lives at stake, the Huns were just going for the ride. With the optimism of a soul bargaining with the devil, he approached the people of the angle tribe we set sail soon, we need men with knowledge of the sea, my lord Balimber gives his consent, stay if you wish, or help me to guide you to your kin. It was then an old man stepped forward, he stooped low, hardly able to stand, the years foretold of the pain of his age. I bless you young man, with your strength and our experience we will achieve our aim. Roué thanked the old man, could it work? Old men in the twilight of their years, women, children, it had disaster all over it, but he was willing to gamble, however it was in the hands of his volunteers. He turned to his men they must decide I have heard from the Angle, they offer to guide us, I say in truth they are old men, perhaps they will die on this voyage, then we are left alone, on an unforgiving sea, what say you, do we take this risk, do we save these people? or do we rescind our humanity. It was a moment in time, no warrior stirred, killing had been their life’s work, they had cared little for their victim’s, but now they saw their victims differently, the old men could have been their father, the women their mother, the children their siblings. Once again, the scabbards were unsheathed, the sound of swords against shields, yet again the answer was given, bring forth the demons of the sea.

Preparations were quickly made, food and drink taken on board, the Angles divided in the three boats, the old men took up position equally divided between the three craft. Roué and his men took to the oars to await instructions from the old men. Balimber, watched the boats depart, he feared for his son, but he knew it was something his son had to do. It was a struggle at first, to keep in unison was far harder than first envisaged, but with the guidance of the old men, soon they were out of sight of land, to the Huns a fond farewell to the comfort and security of terra firma.

Roué’s eyes seemed at first to deceive him, a trick of the light, an apparition, a miracle, but it really happened. The first old man, stood up straight, stripped away his ragged cloak, tore of his grey hair, his grey beard was no more, by magic his appearance changed, a strong fearless warrior was revealed, a weapon clasped by his side. The other men followed, discarding their disguise, the women too revealed hidden weapons. It had been an elaborate ruse; its purpose was a plot to kill the general. At once the Hun warriors reached for their swords, ready to confront the Angle imposters, Roué was quick to respond, now was not the time, a little diplomacy was required, he ordered his men to stand down. Turning to the first man that unmasked himself he addressed him sternly well my noble warrior, I see a wolf in sheep’s clothing, I should have known, warriors would not leave their kin at the mercy of my father, what now? Are we hostages to your whims? But remember many will die if you pursue vengeance on our tribe. The man just smiled, before he answered do not fear, my noble friend, your father was our goal, I have always perceived the Hun as godless people, but you have shown me a new side to your people, one I greatly admire, it was by your actions, that our plan was abandoned, we realised it was doomed, it was an act of desperation. Now may I offer a little advice, your men maybe conquerors of the world, but at sea they perform pitifully, and I feel we will never reach our destination, stand aside let my men and women take to the oars. The Hun warriors were relieved of their duties, more experienced sailors took over. Roué, felt deeply shocked by the turn of events, he had to make a decision, submit to the Angles or regain control. A time for true leadership was at hand, facing the warrior who had bid to take control, he sternly answered tell me your name, so that I can mark your grave, one word from me and blood will be shed, I gave my word that you would be reunited with your brethren, yet you have betrayed me. The former old man, now his disguise removed stepped forward a glisten in his eye replied calm down, I mean you no harm, there is a land beyond the Steppes, beyond the Roman dynasty, beyond Attila’s ambitions, on my oath your passage will be assured, embrace this new land, I will have need of your services. Roué felt a little assured by the warrior’s words, yet confused what did he mean, I have need of your services? For now, he must wait, be patient, but always be ready.

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CHAPTER 2

THE KING’S WORD

T he full moon lit up the dark gloomy skies, the wind was moderate, but fiercely cold, a cold that seeped into every bone and sinew. The tension between the two sworn enemies was miraculously eased, the Hun warriors shared the burden on the oars, and they became as one with the Angles. Roué learned the name of his adversary, and the planned murder of his father. King Offa was the man’s name, his outrages plan, was that once Balimber was dead, amongst the confusion that arose, escape would become possible, highly unlikely, but if only the General was dead, they would feel they had succeeded. Roué now knew the blind hatred people had for Attila, and his generals, to sacrifice, one’s life and that of his kinfolk just to end the life of general Balimber, was indeed pure hatred. It caused Roué to re-examine his own past life, murder, plunder and utter carnage was his only creed. All eyes, suddenly observed the two men, their fate in their hands tell me King Offa, with all the hatred you bear upon my people, yet you say I can be of help? I believe in the lord Attila, I am the son of Balimber surely that alone seals my fate, is Britannia my last resting home? Roué anxiously asked. Offa calmly looked the young Hun in the eye, before he replied Your father in our eyes is the devil himself, you are the son of a devil, yet you showed compassion, you showed true leadership, you even had the courage to defy your father. I am the King of our tribe; I need your help. Roué digested these words, what exactly did he mean? That was a question for a later day, for now he was content in the knowledge that he was on a mission of mercy, and his actions would see many more sons born.

The equation of life or death, was no longer one that favoured the Hun, Roué had no answer, but if the sins of the father had to be paid in blood, so be it.

The flotilla of the three ships sailed on, the night had been long, the dawn was breaking. A mist rose from the sea, sunlight cast away the cloak of darkness, it revealed the people aboard, cold, wet dishevelled and hungry. Suddenly from deep despair to utter joy filled the travellers, at last land was seen, whatever fate had in store, Britannia loomed. At once the Angle sailors took to their stations, orders bellowed out, and with the ease of an artisan the three ships safely glided alongside their moorings. The women and children were safely helped ashore, greeted joyfully by a group of Angle warriors, a miracle had happened, even the most fearless of the warriors shed a tear of joy. King Offa led his men ashore, leaving Roué and his men alone, each man had known the risks, death would surely come, but each man was ready to die, they had done something they had never done before, they had shown mercy, they had done the right thing, and they were content’

The Angle warriors lined up in their hundreds if not more, each eye was filled with hatred, vengeance would be like Ambrosia, the drink of the gods, before them stood the devils disciples. Angored a tall muscular warrior, his face marked with the scars of battle, his hair blond and his eyes blue, stepped forward, he bowed before his lord and King before he spoke, a gleam in his eye. What a prize you have delivered my King, shall we roast them for dinner, or perhaps adorn our lodges with their skins. Roués men immediately began to unsheathe their swords, a certain death wish, forty arrows pointing in their direction, Roué at once saw the danger and ordered his men to delay, he had little choice, he had to have faith in the King’s word, he was at the mercy of the King. Offa, raised his hand, silence followed, the King was to speak, his word was law Angored this is no prize I offer, lower your weapons, these men before you saved our lives, their leader is a man of great wisdom, he is like no other Hun. It is true our task was to slay Balimber, but this man gave me a choice, sacrifice our future mothers, sacrifice our future warriors, or survive, I choose the later. If I chose wrongly, then you Angored may challenge me, if you are successful, then you may do what you feel you must do but rest assured if I am victorious you will be the one who will roast tonight". The whole assembly were stunned, the King was risking his all for these murderers. Fierce debate raged on, their kinfolk safe and well, the dreaded Hun still in their sights. It was a moment when time stood still, would Angored accept the challenge? He was not as wise as their King, he had secured a fragile peace with the Britons offering them protection, but still the Picts invaded the British settlements.

Roué and his men stood helpless; their fate hovered between the ambition of one man against the word of another. It was always the destiny of a warrior, a life no matter how short or long, it would always end in death. Angored still brandishing his weapon slowly edged forward, a cold shrill came over the people their fate was in the hands of the two warriors. As the sky blackened so did the mood, just how far was Angored’s ambitions? The once almighty warrior suddenly became humble, he knelt before his King and prostrated himself before him. The crowd gasped in relief; their prayers answered. The King was heartened by this show of devotion, and immediately gestured for the man to rise, hugging him tightly, welcoming him back to the fold. Roué and his fellow warriors, were invited ashore, the word of the great King had been honoured. The Huns were warmly welcomed, but suspicion still haunted them, one wrong word, one wrong gesture, could bring forth an horrific death. Food drink and warm accommodation was given to the Huns, but this night they would sleep with their mistress, the sword, by their side.

Roué and his men, looked enviously at the beds, their bones ached, blisters covered their hands, a good night’s rest was eagerly awaited. The peace and quiet they had longed for was abruptly interrupted, when a messenger from the King, invited Roué to attend to him at once. The messenger led the way, a suspicious Roué closely behind. The King’s lodgings loomed large, a true symbol of power. A loud knock at the door by the messenger, and the large doors slowly opened, Roué entered. In front of Roué sat the king seated on a strong sturdy chair, alongside at his right hand sat Angored, on the left sat two warriors. Roué felt helpless, was the King demanding far more than was expected. The King’s expression revealed nothing, just a long leering look welcome young Roué, my noble lord Angored has established peace with the Britons, in return for protecting them against the Picts, we have been able to create a settlement. The land they granted us was constantly plagued by the Picts, they raid our land no more, however they still raid our neighbours, and we have a duty to protect their land, but so far we have failed, I need you to help find a solution the King spoke with a sincere heart. Roué, was at a loss, his mind in utter confusion. The King of the Angles, in command of thousands of warriors, yet sought the help of himself and a mere twenty warriors, was the man playing us for a fool? It took a few moments before Roué answered your majesty, you flatter me, I am a mere warrior, I follow orders that is all, the man at your right hand is more capable, I believe you misjudge me. Roué now waited on the King’s response. It came in a simple yet menacing reply it is true Angored is a great warrior, his men would follow him always, we protect our lands with great success, but as yet we have failed to destroy our enemies, and therefore we have failed to protect our neighbours the Britons. Angored was pleased by the King’s words, but he knew his limitations, and he humbly replied we can kill all before us, but we do not have the guile to entrap and destroy these Pict raiders. A great sadness descended upon Roué, had his life become thus? A killing machine, a bringer of terror and destruction. His words must be chosen carefully my lord, I will need to know my enemy, and the people we are to defend, then with your help we will find a solution. Once our task is done, may I remind you, that safe passage for my men will be given. King Offa flung his sword onto the ground, he could see the sincerity in the young Huns eyes deliver me what I ask then whatever you wish will be granted. Roué bowed before the King, he then left the lodge, his mind awash with doubts. Outside the cool breeze offered comfort, now he gazed at this new land, the grass was as green as the steppes, yet trees and flowers paraded in abundance, it was a land that needed to be explored. Tomorrow he would speak to the Britons, survey the landscape, then he would plan the destruction of the Picts.

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CHAPTER 3

THE PAINTED WARRIORS

A beautiful fragrance filled the senses of Roué as he stepped out of his lodgings. The smell of bread baking on an open oven and the aroma of freshly harvested hay, filled his heart with pure joy. In truth any smell was far more welcome that what he had endured, surrounded by twenty men whose aroma was repugnant at best. It was now time to explore, he walked freely through the settlement, his eyes took in the sights, women cooking, men heading to tend their crops, children happily playing, all at peace with the world. Is this what they call civilisation? Roué pondered, not the cowardly people he had been told about. Contentment and happiness filled the air. Without any prompting, a woman offered breakfast, a gesture Roué eagerly accepted. It was a plate full of a mixture of oats and barley together with freshly baked bread. At first, he forced the food down,