Chapter Ten: New Beginnings
Alennia sat, her arms wrapped around her bent knees, her eyes following every movement made by the two women fighting in front of her, her head automatically nodding out a rhythm to the swings of their swords.
She had reached the clan…her clan, a week ago, and smiled fondly to herself, as she remembered the sheer panic that had filled her at the thought of meeting the people she was going to lead. Alennia had never been anything more than an errand-runner for Merlin, and had never fought beside anyone but Manat. What was she doing leading a group of fierce warriors?
And yet now, watching them training, assessing their skills in combat, both as individuals and an entire fighting force, things were beginning to click in Alennia's mind. She was beginning to see how each man, woman and child fought: some with a brutal ferocity, some with a reckless savagery, some, those who had decided to take as many Saxons with them when they went, fought more carefully – each stroke aimed to keep them surviving to kill again.
And Alennia also began to see the comradeship. For all the reports that the clan fought without heed for their own lives, Alennia was starting to see how much they had to live for. How much she had to live for.
The fight before her came to an end, and Alennia was jerked abruptly back into the present. The two women were standing, looking at her expectantly. Alennia gazed back at them, considering things.
"What are your names?" she asked, resting her chin on her knees as she considered them.
"I am Armelle," the older woman said. "This is Bari." She indicated the young woman beside her, who was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed and strands of her hair escaping from her plait.
"You fight well," Alennia said, still lost in thought. She said nothing for some time, and then spoke suddenly. "Armelle. Who is in charge of the clan? Or who was before I came?"
"We had no specific leader," Armelle answered, evading the question.
"But someone must have made the decisions?"
There was a short silence, and eventually Bari spoke. "She led us," she said, looking at Armelle impatiently.
Alennia grinned at Armelle, who must have been about five years older than she was, she judged, but, like most of the people in the clan, looked much older than her years.
"Modest?"
"Something like that," Armelle answered, unable to prevent herself grinning back at her new commander.
"Gather the clan. I want to talk to them," Alennia said briskly, amazed at how easy she found it to make herself sound authoritative, as she stood, and when Armelle and Bari had left she went to find Manat.
Manat was grooming the horses. He had arrived at the clan a week before Alennia, to 'prepare the ground' as she had said. He had only been with them a fortnight, but already he loved life with the clan.
Here, no one was squeamish about the idea of spilling Saxon blood. Here he could spend all day with the horses, or test his combat skills against that of the men and women in the clan. Here, he was respected both as a swordsman and as a horseman, and was not just another orphan of the Saxon raids.
He heard the familiar step of Alennia behind him, and did not turn to greet her. "Thought you'd forgotten about me," he said with a dry smile.
"I'm sorry!" Alennia apologised, immediately dismayed. "I've just been so busy, trying to get to know everyone and…"
"It's alright!" Manat interrupted her, turning with an amused grin. "Just teasing."
Alennia let her breath out in relief, and her shoulders slumped. "I've been feeling guilty about abandoning you," she explained.
"Don't you worry about me! I'm perfectly happy…what did you want?"
Alennia leant against her mare, absently fondling her silky mane. "I need to talk to the clan."
"Tell them who you are, how you got here," Manat said bluntly, and Alennia was, not for the first time, amazed at how much older he was than his thirteen years.
"I don't want to…"
"Look like your fishing for sympathy?" Manat asked, glancing at her briefly, before turning back to the horse. "It won't be like that. They know too well the horrors of the raids. They'd prefer to be led by one who knows that too."
Alennia nodded slowly, and sighed. "I better get it over and done with then."
"You'll be fine."
Alennia stood, trembling, and trying desperately not to let it show. She was painfully aware of the eyes of the entire clan on her: judging and forming their own conclusions. Half of her wanted to turn away: to shrink up into a tiny ball until they had all forgotten about her. She was no public speaker! She avoided having to talk out in front of people at all cost. What was she, but an orphan of the Saxons raids who had somehow found her way into Merlin's esteem.
But then a strange memory flashed through her mind. A knight: tall and dark, with a mocking smile and captivating eyes. He would never be scared of giving a speech! He would face it like he did everything: with his charismatic manner and amused expression. And something in that memory gave Alennia the strength she needed to speak.
"My name is Alennia," she said, amazed that her voice was so strong. "And I am now your leader." She let her gaze rake through the crowd before her. "This clan had a reputation. They say you fight with ferocity, that you kill with pleasure, and that you die with no fear." She paused to let this sink in. "And this isn't good enough. I don't want to lead a clan of suicidal people." Alennia could feel the animosity building up against her, and yet this time there was no fear: just an overriding confidence. "I want to lead a clan of people that will live through each battle, so that they may kill even more Saxons before their time is up."
Armelle, standing in the crowd, smiled in quiet satisfaction at her new leader. She was expertly twisting the clan around her little finger, and Armelle was more than pleased to fight for such a woman. Indeed, she was proud.
"You look at me," Alennia continued. "And what do you see? A woman, younger than most of you, given this clan as a 'present' because she's Merlin's favourite?" she laughed to herself. "I didn't want to lead. I just wanted to kill Saxons. Two years ago they killed everyone in my village. I survived. Two years ago I thought there was nothing to live for. Now I realise that it was just a new beginning. A fresh start. Since then I have lived to kill Saxons. Now, looking at you, I think that perhaps there is something else. Not only can we fear them, but we can strike fear into their very souls at the sound of our name. The Clan of the Wolf." Alennia paused, staring into the distance as if she was contemplating something. "How do you want to be remembered? As the people who welcomed death, or as those who showed no fear?"
A/N - As ever guys! Thank you so much for all your reviews - they mean so much to me! Oh yeah, and I've changed some of the chapter names. The content is still the same - I've just revised the titles.
lucillaq - I'm afraid you're rightwith your guess of the plot! Am I so transparent? Just kidding! The kiss is gonna have to wait a while longer - you think Alennia would give in without a bit of a fight?