Chapter 27 Cenric
Cenric
Cenric bolted out of bed at the first screams. In an instant he had his trousers on and a sword in his hand.
“Brynn!” He could have sworn he heard her call his name. He’d had another foretelling, one that was eerily the same—discovering Brynn’s drowned corpse on an abandoned stretch of beach.
Her puppy and Snapper were both gone. Where was Brynn? Why hadn’t she awakened him first?
Snapper? He sent out the thought to be meant with emptiness. It must mean his dog was too far away. Thorn? Ash?
Silence.
A touch of fear whispered along his spine. Cenric reached the door of the longhouse, tearing out to a view of the village below.
Some hundred auroch yearlings barreled through everything in their path, ploughing through Hróarr’s camp and the village. The yearlings were not fully grown, but they were each a block of pure muscle, easily the height of a man with massive, arched horns.
They left a swath of destruction in their wake, screams and cries rising in the early morning.
The cattle galloped into the forest on the other side, following the curve of the river. Some of the animals tripped only to be trampled by their fellows.
They trailed past the village and into the forest, loping into the trees. It would be a nightmare to get them out and rounded back into the pens, assuming the pens were still intact.
The distant barking of dogs rang out from the village. At least he knew where the dyrehunds had gone.
“Brynn!” Cenric searched left and right. She couldn’t be down there, could she? She’d brought her pup outside, that was all. He was sure he’d heard her call for him…
“Lord!” Kalen came rushing out of the house. He looked down on the destruction below and his face went white. “What happened?”
“I don’t know yet.” Cenric’s heart raced as he cast left and right. “Find Lady Brynn at once. If you see her, tell her I’ve gone down to the village, and we need her.” People would be hurt. Edric and Gaitha’s house was in the village as were many of Cenric’s thanes.
That was probably where Brynn had gone.
“Yes, lord.” Kalen sprinted back into the house.
Cenric sheathed his sword, buckling it on as he ran down the path toward the field.
He had posted guards over the cattle, like they always did. What had happened? Was this some foul play from men sent by Olfirth? Had the old man decided that he didn’t want to be neighborly after all?
“Hróarr!” Cenric reached the first of the Valdari tents.
Something moved under the torn canvas and the bent tent poles. Cenric pulled aside the flotsam, revealing a Valdari man on the ground, leg crushed beneath the pole that had smashed down on him, along with three others who seemed more confused than hurt.
Cenric saw them upright before running to the next tent.
Figures stirred from beneath the flattened tents. Though poles had been knocked over and, in some cases, trampled, most people had not been struck directly by the animals.
Cenric found Hróarr and Vana’s tent at the center. It looked like an auroch had smashed into the side and gotten tangled in the ropes. The outside stakes had been ripped up, making the tent collapse.
“Hróarr!” Cenric dove into the partially collapsed tent to find his cousin on the ground, head bleeding.
Vana knelt beside him, disheveled with a gash on her shoulder. It looked like she’d been cut by a falling tent beam.
“Vana.” Cenric dropped into a crouch beside his cousin, nearly weeping when he saw Hróarr’s chest rising and falling.
“I’m fine,” Hróarr grunted in Valdari, one hand to the cut on his forehead. “But I’m going to skin the damned cow that made my woman bleed.”
Vana rolled her eyes, though she favored her injured shoulder. “What happened?”
“I don’t know yet,” Cenric answered, looking back outside.
Hróarr made to sit up, then groaned. “I might need a moment.”
“Brynn will be able to help.” Cenric didn’t doubt his wife could heal this. He’d seen her mend broken ribs, after all.
“Where is your wife?” Vana looked up as if expecting to see Brynn.
“I’m trying to find her.”
Vana’s brows rose, worry creasing her entire face. “You don’t know?”
Cenric tried not to let those words incite fear. He needed to stay calm and find her. His people needed him. Surely Brynn was alright. Surely—
“I will find her,” Cenric said. Alive, he vowed silently to himself. “I’m going into the village. See that one doesn’t push himself too hard.”
“I will,” Vana promised.
Hróarr cursed. “She’s my frilla , not my wet nurse.”
Vana ignored him, holding a wad of cloth to his cut. “Lie still a little longer.”
Cenric helped Hróarr outside the fallen tent and left him in the care of Vana before racing down to the village. The people in the village had been more protected, solid buildings more resilient than canvas tents.
But aurochs had smashed through garden fences and in a few cases, through solid walls. A clothesline had been snapped, probably by one of the animals’ horns. Children’s tunics and stockings lay scattered on the ground, stomped into the earth.
A goose shed had been demolished, scattering feathers and the crushed bodies of geese in all directions. The gardens had been mostly harvested already, but those that hadn’t had been trampled into oblivion, hoofprints leaving deep gouges in the earth and whatever else had been on the ground.
One of the aurochs had gotten inside a house, knocking over a broom into the fireplace and goring the thane who lived there before smashing out the opposite wall. The thane now lay bleeding while his wife and children scrambled to put out the fire.
Cenric joined in with several others throwing buckets of water onto the flames. They had been able to catch it early, so they saved most of the house, but the man still needed Brynn’s attention.
Cows! Snapper leapt up at Cenric’s side, seeming to appear from nowhere. Bad cows! Bad!
A knot of fear relaxed in Cenric’s chest as he patted the head of his old friend. Brynn?
Brynn? Snapper dropped onto all fours. With puppy. That meant Snapper had seen her, at least.
Find puppy, Cenric ordered.
Snapper woofed and took off running back up the hill.
Ash, Thorn, and the other dogs trotted around, inspecting the damage. They barked or woofed, sending errant thoughts. Cenric tried calling to them, but they were too distracted to pay attention at the moment. Thorn especially was upset that so many people had been hurt.
“Cenric!” Edric rushed up to meet him, covered in dirt and soot, but looking fine. “Most the damage is closest to the longhouse.”
“The house itself is fine,” Cenric answered shortly. He looked past his friend. “Your wife?”
“A little angry, but well. A cow took out one of our doors.”
That was bad and would need to be fixed before winter, but not what some people had suffered.
“What happened?” Edric glanced at the destruction surrounding them.
“Get your sword. See if you can find men who can fight.” Cenric looked up the hill to the cattle pens where he had left four thanes to guard the animals last night. “We’re going to find out.”
Edric nodded, jaw tight.
Cenric paced through the village, assessing damage. No more houses had caught fire, and no one was dead yet, but his wounded thane would be in danger of infection. They needed Brynn. Where was she?
He looked toward the house at the top of the hill. No sign of Snapper, Brynn, or Kalen. Where was that boy?
Cenric kept searching for Brynn in the village. Perhaps Snapper had missed her, and she had already come down to help with the injured people. That would be like her.
Cenric searched house by house, asking after injuries and damages and if they’d seen Brynn. None of them had, but there were a few broken bones, bruised ribs, and smashed fences.
Cenric paused at a familiar house. He knew all the houses in his village, but this one better than most. He didn’t want to see her right now, but Brynn might have come here. Cenric knocked on the door of Rowan’s family home, hoping for her brother, younger sister, father, or mother. Anyone but her.
It swung open, revealing Rowan. Shit.
Cenric suddenly remembered he hadn’t bothered with a tunic before running down from the longhouse. “Rowan.”
“Cenric.” Rowan’s face had gone hard, impassive. She held eye contact with a rigid determination, not looking below his nose.
He asked the same question he had asked at each house. “Are you and your family well?”
“Fine,” Rowan answered. “Our goat pen was broken, but nothing else. We will be heading into the village to help the others as soon as we catch the last of the animals.”
“Good.” Cenric looked back toward the harder-hit portions of the village. “Have you seen Brynn?”
Rowan swallowed, just the slightest tick of emotion. “No.”
Cenric tried not to show anything at that, though recollections of his foretelling flashed before his eyes. “Thank you. You and your family’s help would be most appreciated at the house of Deidrei. Her wall was broken down and I’d like that to be fixed by nightfall.” Deidrei was an elderly woman currently raising three of her grandsons, ranging in age from four to eleven.
Cenric stepped away from the door, ready to head to the next house.
“Is Lady Brynn missing?” Rowan took a step after him.
Cenric wasn’t sure why he felt like he shouldn’t answer. “I’m not sure.” He inclined his head once before marching away and back outside the fence. He shut the gate after himself out of habit, though it wouldn’t do much good with the smashed fence.
Edric and three other thanes met him back on the path between houses. “Lord!”
All four men carried swords and spears, like Cenric had instructed. They appeared unhurt, if a bit disheveled. They’d probably been helping to put out the fire and move broken slabs of wood from smashed buildings.
“Let’s go see what happened.” Cenric led the way through the village and up to the cattle pens.