Drustan now very much becoming Drustina gets involved in moves to circumvent Mutas's usurption of Magab's throne whilst the Angry Mermaid proves her worth as a ship for all seasons.

The Angry Mermaid 18.

Or.

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 18

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin the twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Herenoie The twins wise and beautiful mother.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan and Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.
Dryslwyn High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab The moor who taught numbers.
Eric Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton. Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia Arton’s wife.
Isobel. Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus King of the Capetani.
Shaleen Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan. The scullery maid.
Isaar. Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega. Tyrant King to the west.
Portua. Portega’s grandson.
Jubail. Old Fisherman.
Mutas Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia King of Malta.

The signal fire had been spotted and the crew of The Angry Mermaid swept into the isolated empty bay. A brief pair of lights flickered from The Mermaid’s rail and two figures slipped silently from the African shore into the waves. The Mermaid sped towards the flickering fire and soon the saturated passengers were hauled from the water. Arina and Torvel hesitated, they recognised their comrade Drustan but the other fellow was unknown to them. As Arina and Torvel reached over to haul Drustan inboard they whispered.

“Who’s the other guy Drustan?”

“Prince Magab.”

“By the Gods of war!” Torvel Chuckled softly. “I’ll be damned if we haven’t got Aiofe tending the tiller! She refused to be denied.”

Drustan glanced aft and failed to see the face of the cloaked figure huddled over the tiller. Then she looked up and smiled as she acknowledged her brother. Drustan smiled back as he changed to dry clothes but he felt the double thrill of anticipation as he pictured the reunion between Magab and Aiofe. Savouring the forthcoming moment, he first helped to haul the frozen figure aboard.

Drustan had emerged from the waves feeling little chilled by the Middle sea. Its water to him, raised in the cold Celtic seas, seemed benign but his body was still much cooled by the exposure. Magab was another matter. Born of the hot Nubian climes and accustomed to altogether warmer conditions, he was suffering badly from exposure as Torvel, Drustan and Arina struggled to haul the almost comatose body aboard. Arina whispered.

“By the Gods, I swear another hour and this man would have been dead. We’ll have to warm him.”

“Well I know just the remedy, grinned Drustan as he nodded to the preoccupied figure at the tiller.”

Torvel and Arina grinned as Drustan stepped aft to relieve the figure at the helm.

“So what’s the news?” Aiofe begged. “Did you manage to find Magab, has he been usurped.”

Drustan smiled to himself; hardly able to contain the secret bundled up in rags by the spare sails.

“I’ll tell you later sister. Right now, there’s a figure that needs a body’s warmth and I’m too cold and wet to be of any good. Best you help Arina and Torvel warm him with your heat. Look they are preparing to cuddle him as we speak. Let me take the helm please.”

“Who is he?” Aiofe asked.

“He’s an important arbiter who will have the authority to ask for the Knights of Malta’s help. Magab will need all the help he can muster.”

Aiofe sighed and picked her way forward to apply her body heat to the suffering passenger. Drustan cast a weather eye to the night sky as he savoured the smooth hand-polished feel of his beloved companion’s tiller. Then he swung her tiller, hauled hard on the main sheets and turned The Mermaid sharp about. As she heeled violently, Aiofe staggered and fell heavily against the saturated huddle of humanity and he croaked pitifully.

“Mercy comrade I perish with the damned cold.”

“Pisht thee brother,” Aiofe scoffed, “tis but a chill. I‘ve felt it colder in hell than these climes.”

The bundle stirred and whispered both in hope and disbelief.

“Is that you Aiofe?”

Aiofe gasped and squealed with shocked delight as she finally recognised the shivering, ragged heap though she could hardly believe her senses.

“Magab! Magab! Is that truly you?”

“Yes my beloved. Warm me, please warm me.”

Aiofe needed no second bidding. She literally tore the saturated rags off her betrothed and immediately wrapped them both in her robes whilst simultaneously squeezing her own naked body flesh tight against his. As Magab sighed with pure relief to feel some genuine body heat, Aiofe snapped at Torvel and Arina.

“Well don’t just bloody stand there. He’s frozen! Get the spare leather and cotton sails and wrap us together!”

The pair couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles and they smirked discreetly as they unfolded the neatly stowed sail and parcelled the betrothed pair in several layers. Within minutes, Magab was recovering and savouring the most delightful warmth as he and his beau indulged their long denied needs. Torvel and Arina retreated tactfully to the stern where Drustan reluctantly handed the tiller to them. He had missed the companionship of The Angry Mermaid and briefly enjoyed their reunion. Now however, he was tired and needed his rest.

“I’m going to get some sleep. My feet are bloody killing me after all that walking.”

“Don’t disturb those two.” Torvel grinned.

“Don’t worry. I’m going right forward. It’s sleep I need. Can you dry and polish my sword please.”

Arina eagerly snatched the proffered weapon from Drustan and jealously started drying, polishing then oiling the famous blade. Torvel settled The Mermaid down on an easterly heading for Malta just as the northerly Mistral decided to speed them along.
On a broad reach, The Mermaid sped furiously across the wild sea as her tough Welsh oak timbers slammed and bounced upon the waves.
Despite the pounding, Drustan slept soundly - something he hadn’t done properly since first setting foot on Nubian soil. They reached Malta the following noon and The Angry Mermaid raced into Valletta harbour like a galloping horse. Many eyes stared disbelievingly at The Angry Mermaid as she demonstrated her speed and seaworthiness. With five persons to man the sheets and tiller, The Mermaid also proved a remarkably agile craft as she swept into her allotted mooring in a harbour filled with idle vessels weather bound until the spring.

Aiofe went ashore first to renew contact with the Knights and prince of Malta. She spoke several languages and they had come to respect her proven wisdom. She returned with some suitable clothes for Magab more in keeping with his true station but she left her brother to his own choice of clothes. Drustan favoured as little clothing as possible. But as his maidenly attributes manifested themselves more each month he was forced to cover his once male chest. He always wore leggings to hide the scar on his arse and previously he had worn a short leather jerkin mainly to hide his dagger under a short scabbard pressed tight between his left shoulder-blade and arm. Now he had to wear a looser garment if he was to cover his maidenly mounds. It was getting to the stage where He was looking so much like a girl he was debating going abroad as a girl. The problem was that people expected to see girls in gowns to their ankles and Drustan simply refused to compromise his freedom. He now hid his dagger across his chest under his womanly breasts but his sword however was clearly visible with the hilt and handle sticking slightly above his right shoulder while the tip stuck out at the back under his jerkin. The looseness of his new ‘feminised’ jerkin gave him one unexpected advantage. He could draw his sword even faster.

He only carried his bow when girded for battle for in truth it hampered movement when generally strolling amongst the crowded streets. He left the bow oiled and protected under the watchful eye of the guards in the harbour. When Aiofe returned with clothes for Magab, she was mildly peeved to find that her impetuous brother had already stepped ashore alone.

“Where’s he got to?” She asked Arina and Torvel.

“He said he was going to the market place to get some fresh fruit and a pitcher of decent wine,” Arina replied, “truthfully cousin, I can’t blame him. The food on board is getting pretty ripe now.”

“Yes Arina, nobody disputes that but there’s a proper meal awaiting us in the Palace. The Prince must speak with Magab immediately, but they also want an impartial assessment of the Situation.”

“Well then let’s go. You know what your brother is like. He’s probably out there right now, picking up intelligence and the general mood of the island.”

“No Arina. I meant in Carthage. The knights need to know about Carthage. The one with the most recent intelligence is Drustan.”

“Well you know what he’s like cousin. He’s the most careful plotter I’ve even known. If he’s garnering further intelligence, he’s got a reason.”

Aiofe nodded her head thoughtfully. She wondered what Drustan knew that he had not mentioned on the return passage. Her brother could be infuriatingly devious at times. Reluctantly they left Torvel to guard The Mermaid and visited the prince’s palace.
Drustan spent the whole day cruising the markets, speaking with traders, visiting taverns until he had gauged the mood on the island. His guts told him it was not a good mood. The grain ships had not come from Carthage that autumn and food was becoming scarce. People were becoming restless and blamed their king Walezia the Prince of Malta, for not accepting Mutas’s treaty when he had snatched the throne. To punish the Maltese, Mutas had stopped ships trading to Malta while he tightened his stranglehold on his brother Magab’s realm. His murder of his own father had been the last straw for many but by then it was too late to organise resistance. When Aiofe and Magab met with the Maltese king he was not well disposed to helping them.

Malta was a small island with a very small army, little more than a ceremonial guard commanded by the fore-runners of the Knights Templar. They were very accomplished soldiers but far too few; besides, they only had enough to defend the Valetta fortresses.
The King Walezia was worried about the deteriorating food situation on the island. Since Mutas had stopped trading with Malta food was getting scarce. The Maltese granaries would be empty long before the winter gales had finished. His people faced starvation.

When Drustan returned to his beloved Mermaid that night he was astonished to find her unguarded. This immediately put him on his guard for he knew his faithful companion Torvel would not have willingly abandoned her without making provision for her safe-keeping. As he took the stairs down to the Valletta harbour he noted the situation and immediately drew back into the shadows. It was not a moment too soon. As he crouched in the shadows, a troop of soldiers marched past and took station on the quay where The Mermaid lay moored.

After carefully appraising the situation, Drustan realised the soldiers were guarding The Mermaid against anybody approaching her and that might include him. The question now was why? The next question was where was Torvel? The situation warranted much further inspection so he slipped away silently and decided to approach The Mermaid by way of the water.

In the darkness, he made his way to the next creek and silently slid into the harbour to make a more stealthy approach by swimming silently along the quay wall under the shadow of its stone apron. Eventually he approached to within earshot of the guards and he settled under the coping stones to garner what information he could. It wasn’t long before the guards gossip told him all he needed to know. Torvel had been ‘detained’ and taken to King Walezia’s palace.

Drustan was now doubly cautious. Having determined what had happened, it now remained to determine the why. He slipped away from The Mermaid and went into the town. There he managed to steal some cheap women’s clothes and change his identity to that of a maid. He covered his head to hide his hair and studied his reflection in a dark puddle beneath a torch illuminating the door of an inn. Ruefully he concluded he passed for a maid just too easily. His face had a light slender jaw and his brow was smooth like a maiden’s. As he ran his finger over his jaw he felt no beard, nor even the beginnings of one.
‘Am I ever going to grow a manly face?’ He wondered. Then he thought further ’at least he would never have to shave and that might be a good thing.’ He adjusted his head cover with an unwitting ease and found a dry recess to sleep for the remainder of the night. As dawn arrived he made for the early morning market where he bought a meal and some wine at the tradesmen’s and carrier’s stand. People were gathered around in small groups guarding the wares and waiting for the market traders to complete setting up their stalls. Drustan soon determined that the mood was not good. Food, particularly grain for bread, was scarce. This mood was reflected by the appearance of a troop of soldiers who appeared unusually and took position at the four entrances to the market square. By monitoring several conversations amongst the assorted market users, Drustan soon determined that the mood had deteriorated so much in Malta that King Walezia was concerned that riots might break out as the traders traded ever higher food prices. He had sent a troop of palace guards to maintain order if things got dangerous. After finishing his expensive meal Drustan drifted slowly towards the main contingent of the guard who were posted at the main gate. They stood idly chatting by their watch fire so Drustan sidled over to appear as though she was adjudging some meat that had just been put out for sale. Already, several people had inspected the stall-holder’s wares and concluded his prices were too high. They stalked off angrily to compare prices of cheaper poorer meats purveyed on stalls at the cheaper end of the market. Drustan had already noted the same situation prevailing on the grain stalls. It seemed even the fish and vegetable stalls were affected to some degree as demand for the remaining foodstuffs climbed.

As Drustan loitered apparently checking the meat he listened attentively to the soldier’s gossip and his patience was rewarded. Two officers appeared going off duty and they joined the troop commander. They had just finished night duty in the palace and they were stopping by for a social ‘chit-chat’ with their colleagues before returning to their homes. Naturally the first topic of conversation was the increasing food prices. Drustan listened to their comments.

“Greetings Captain Fazeel, any trouble yet?”

“No, it’s quiet but the prices are already higher.”

“Aye. You’d best stock up on meat and bread brother, there’s going to be one hell of a shortage.”

“How so?” The captain of the guard asked.

“Well the King has had a letter from that usurper in Carthage explaining that grain is scarce and he has been forced to suspend exports until the situation calms down in the country. Consequently there is no grain coming in.”

“So what about grain from Italia or even Gaul.”

“It’s winter brother. You know what the storms are like. Only fools and venturers go forth upon the waters at this time of year. Besides the northerly winds prevent our ships beating against the tempests. It would take weeks and weeks to beat a path into the Gulf of Lyons or the Adriatica. The people would be starved to death by then. We can’t even get a message to Rome or Venice or Marseilles because even our fastest ships are weather bound here in Valletta. So they won’t be sending any grain south until they get a begging letter from Walezia."

“Can we afford to pay for extra grain from Gaul? We‘ve already paid for the grain that lies stored in Carthage’s granaries. It’s ours by right.”

“So how do we get it brother? We only have a small army and the weather is dangerous. Winter is not the time for starting a war. The king is worried and that makes us all worried. Oh and there’s another bit of gossip.”

“Go on,” the guard captain sighed resignedly.

“Those people who came from Iberia. Apparently the Usurper Mutas believes they have been meddling in his kingdom. Apparently that Celtic girl Affee or Afay or something, -“

“Aiofe,” the guard captain replied.

“Yes, that’s her, the one with yellow hair; well she‘s apparently to be betrothed to the other brother, the rightful heir to Carthage, what’s his name?”

“Magab.”

“Yeah; that’s it, Magab.”

“Go on,” the captain pressed his colleague.

“Well Mutas seems to have got wind that she’s been staying in Malta and he’s also sent a missive asking our king to deliver her to him so that he can marry her. The girl wasn’t very happy.”

Initially Walezia refused saying it broke the rules of hospitality for the girl was officially part of a diplomatic mission from the Celtiberians. He could not break the diplomatic conventions. That’s when Mutas tightened the screws and stopped the grain shipments altogether. Now the people advising the king are recommending that he delivers the girl to Carthage so that he can get Mutas to release our grain.”

“Well surely she won’t be in any danger,” The captain observed, “If she’s only going to be married; what’s she got to object to? She’ll still end up as queen of Carthage.”

The other officer chuckled and wagged his head.

“My God Fazeel! You don’t know much about women do you. She’s besotted with the other brother, Magab. She’s already planning to marry Magab. That’s what angers Mutas. He’s heard the woman’s a stunning beauty.”

Drustan smiled inwardly and nodded ever so imperceptibly to himself. ‘That much was true!’

“Have you seen her?” Captain Fazeel asked as a sergeant came with a report.

“Yes, and she is, - a real beauty. Men would kill for her. At the moment she’s an involuntary guest of King Walezia until he decides what to do. In fact all of that crew are being detained until the king determines what to do. Well; all that is except the boy who commands that fancy ship in the harbour. He’s disappeared; my troops are out searching for him now, so if you see any man with long yellow hair detain him and let us know. The king is undecided what to do with them yet.”

Drustan had heard enough. His sister and friends were being detained as pawns in some sort of trade war and he was a hunted man. He smiled ruefully; the operative word here was ‘man’. He adjusted his clothes to make himself appear more feminine yet and he tightened his top to reveal his upper curves. He was never more glad to appear maidenly and he stepped boldly past the lounging troopers even allowing his yellow hair to be seen under his head scarf. Greedy eyes followed his swaying hips and he felt like some beast being paraded at the market.

‘Just let them try!’ He told himself as he felt the reassuring blade under his clothes.

The captain of the guards and the two officers noticed Drustan but they simply smiled appreciatively at the tall slender woman as she swayed seductively past. They shared some lascivious remark but Drustan could not hear it even though she noticed their crude laughter. Gritting his teeth Drustan turned and smiled provocatively then glided away using every feminine wile he could muster. Their eyes followed her until she left the square by the main gate into town. Drustan had to get into the palace.

This proved relatively easy. Drustan’s subterfuge was simple; - a large basket of fruit carried by an extremely pretty girl with a convincing story about being new to the supply organisation soon got Drustan past the guards. The deteriorating food supply situation had attracted many new faces into the palace supply train. The guards didn’t even check the basket for underneath the fruit, Drustan had earlier bought a pretty dress and some ‘make-up’ to enhance his disguise. He had secreted the prettier, more stylish dress to wear inside the palace. Once in the palace, he hid the basket of fruit then took his prettier dress and slipped it on to make ‘herself’ much more presentable. Finally he ‘enhanced’ his face to complete the illusion. Drustan had now been in feminine mode since the early morning and was beginning to feel at ease. Importantly he was beginning to enjoy the support to his breasts for they no longer bounced and wobbled when he walked. It was something he had become uncomfortable with when he was dressed more usually as a man. He resolved to have a suitable, better tailored jerkin made at some time to provide a more comfortable ‘housing’ for the breasts he had been forced to come to terms with.

As lunchtime approached he recovered the basket of fruit and tidied it up to make it presentable to the royal dining hall. He needed to see if his sister and friends were still being treated as guests or prisoners. As he placed the basket on the side board he was relieved to see Aiofe at least seated at a table in the hall. It was not the high table but it showed they were at least still deemed to be guests even if they were being ‘detained’. Keeping a low profile he slipped outside found a piece of broken roofing tile and discretely scratched a short message.

‘Outside in the main corridor immediately after you’ve eaten. ‘D’

He returned to the hall, took the opportunity to separate some fruit from his basket, grab a modest palace platter and ‘serve’ his sister’ at her table. As he stood beside her he ‘accidentally’ tipped an orange out of the bowl so he bent down below the table and gently slipped the roof-tile shard onto her lap then tapped her knee to alert her. Aiofe hesitated for a moment then gasped as she recognised her brother. Drustan put a discrete finger to his lips and sidled away after returning the orange to his sister. Aiofe carefully slipped the slate shard into her dress purse and resumed eating. Nobody had seen the swap.

‘Part one completed,’ Drustan told himself as he fiddled with his basket of fruit and returned to the hall to serve out the remainder to each table.

Aiofe’s eyes followed her brother incredulously around the hall as she could not believe how convincing he looked as a woman; ‘and a bloody attractive one at that!’ she thought.

She hid her smile as she wondered what crazy reason had brought her brother right into the lion’s den. Later when they met secretly in what looked like an accidental meeting Aiofe explained.

“Magab, Arina and Torvel are in the palace gardens. We are allowed to walk around but not to leave the palace.”

She then went on to elaborate as she described the situation.

Aiofe had at first found King Walezia to be a courteous and affable host who had been very well disposed to her fiancée Magab but that very night after they had returned in The Angry Mermaid his friendship had cooled distinctly and he had explained to them somewhat apologetically.

Whilst they were away recovering Drustan and Magab, an emissary had arrived from Mutas demanding that any intercourse between Carthage and Malta must be conducted with Mutas’s government or the trade would stop. Walezia’s kingdom depended on trade but they had always previously relied upon Carthage for their grain supplies. Carthage was the closest reliable source of grain and they had never anticipated ill-will between their two kingdoms. Mutas’s coup had altered all that and King Walezia’s hands were tied, at least for the rest of the winter and into the following summer before they could find alternative sources.

King Walezia had been a good friend of the old Carthaginian king He was shocked at the news of his murder and Mutas’s coup but for now his hands were tied. Unless Walezia agreed to recognise Mutas’s kingship there would be no more grain deliveries that year. Walezia’s hands were tied for his Island kingdom only had about four weeks grain left.

“So what are you to do sister,” Drustan wondered, “and what is Magab going to do? The Carthaginian people are not happy with Mutas’s rule in Carthage.”

Aiofe pondered the question.

“Is there much dissent brother?”

“There’s much discontent but little dissent. Mutas is brutal. The country looks like an abattoir what with all the murders he has committed to despatch anybody who has any remote connection with his father’s court. Mutas is a beast!”

Aiofe fell silent as she debated an idea.

“How would we best defeat him? Where’s his weak spot?”

Drustan fell silent. The thing that had seemed to affect most people was the breakdown in law and order. The best way to exploit that was to promote more mayhem, more cause for shortages, more subsequent thefts and therefore more discontent. Aiofe agreed with him and they separated. Drustan went back into the town and Aiofe returned to her apartments where she was being detained within the palace. She had the run of the palace but she was prevented from going abroad in the Island.

The following lunchtime Aiofe was shocked to see her brother re-appear as an even prettier maid. Indeed so pretty that heads had turned. Now that she had been noticed and recognised as a source of scarce fresh fruit the Palace staff were presuming her to be a new member of staff. King Walezia had always had an eye for a pretty girl. That lunchtime as Drustan served the fruit at the tables the King noticed her and called her over.

“You’re new here my pretty young maid.”

“Yes my liege, my father owns a farm.”

“Is that where you get this fruit?”

“Partly my lord, we have had to exchange it for grain. We have not much fruit left. And the grain gets expensive. There seems to be a shortage of corn on the island.”

Walezia frowned. It was no secret that the granaries were running out and he could not think of an answer. He smiled at the pretty maid indulgently.

“And how would you solve the shortage young lady?”

“Why sir I would look for grain elsewhere. Other countries are well disposed to you and your kingdom my liege.”

The king sighed.

“Oh indeed they are you pretty thing, but how are we to get the grain to Malta. The winter storms are ferocious and we cannot send emissaries to the north or east. Ships cannot face those winds you have seen the harbour, it is full with winter bound ships.”

Drustan thought he saw an opening.

“But what of that strange ship that lies moored at the bottom of the grand staircase. The word in the town is that she can fly like a bird, even in the worst storms. Many people saw her fly when she raced into the harbour only two, or was it three days ago.”

The king wagged his head indulgently.

“I’m afraid you’ve been listening to rumours and gossip you pretty little thing. No ship can face the Mistral and make northing in these awful storms. I have spoken with my captains and they advise me this is so.”

Drustan almost snorted with derision but he managed to contain his contempt and carefully probed the king’s mind.

“Have you spoken with the captain of that strange ship?”

“No. He has disappeared and my soldiers seek him out. Rumour has it he has been to Carthage and I would speak with him.”
Drustan affected an effeminate giggle as he mimicked an empty-headed maid.

“It seems the town is full of rumours sire.”

“Well if I can find that captain it will kill a thousand rumours. His sister Aiofe says he simply disappeared into the town when they docked. He left them under the pretence of getting fresh food when there was a banquet of fresh food waiting here for his reception. I wish the fool would trust me, his sister says he is an impetuous youth.”

Drustan set a little test to determine how much danger Aiofe was in.

“So if you wish to find him, just make a declaration that his crew are to be tried for treason if he does not surrender himself.”
Walezia gasped and wagged his head.

“Good God child. I am not a butcher. I do not murder my guests. The girl Aiofe was an emissary from Iberia.”

“Well, if she is an emissary my liege, why can she not be allowed to return to Iberia?”

“It’s too dangerous the winter storms -. Your idea is sensible pretty maid. You are not as silly as you appear to be are you? Besides, once the sailing season re-opens she will probably have to return to Iberia and possibly take her embarrassing fiancée with her. I know she would receive a welcome there. I have King Appotel’s letters describing how much the whole crew of that little ship is held in high esteem. I know myself that now the Pillars of Hercules are open to all ships again the freedom to trade will benefit our kingdom enormously but for now, I am tied. This Mutas brute holds the whip hand at least until I can find alternative sources of grain for my people.”

“Is he a brute sire?”

“That’s what the rumours said before all trade ceased. I must speak with this captain of that strange ship he calls The Mermaid.”

“I thought it was The Angry Mermaid sire.”

“Well yes it is my girl but I was using shorthand.”

Drustan tickled the king’s pomposity

“They say it’s bad luck not to call a ship by her full name. The sea god Nodens may not recognise her.”

Even as he said these words the king’s eyes flashed and Drustan realised his blunder. He had revealed himself to be a follower of the old Pagan religions and he had revealed knowledge of the Celtic deities.

“What do you know of old Pagan Gods, do you not follow the one god, the god of Israel?”

Drustan swallowed and thought rapidly as his mind did back-flips.

“Why no sir, I do not follow pagan gods, I am a true believer of the one god but I have to tell you I have met this man, this captain of the strange ship.

It was early morning and he was looking for good food for his crew. I was taking my basket of fruit to market but some robbers tried to steal my wares and I screamed. He must have heard my scream and he appeared as if out of nowhere. The robbers fled when they saw his sword and he approached me. It was that first morning they arrived. It was very early and still dark. I thought he was going to rob me for my produce Good fresh fruit is becoming scarce and therefore valuable.

I offered him some fruit by way of thanking him but instead, he offered me good money for my whole basket. I sold it to him immediately and returned to my father’s farm. We made up my second basket but it was late too for the market so I tried my luck at the Palace gates. The steward was short of fresh fruit so he bought it from me and told me to serve it at the tables because time was short.”

Drustan was lying through his teeth now but the king accepted his story.

“You say you’ve met this man.”

“Why yes my lord. I did not realise it until today. That girl, his sister, she saw me serving fruit again today and she mentioned that I had hair like her and her brother. She asked me if I was a Celt or a Saxon but I told her my father had brought back a Celtic slave from Italia. I told her I was born here because my father married his slave girl after his first wife died in childbirth. I am his only child. That’s why I have to sell the goods from our farm. I have no brothers to do it and the rest of the family shun me because of my humble origins. I am the daughter of a slave girl. It was only after that Celtic guest mentioned his hair that I realised the man I sold the fruit to was her brother.”

“Could you meet him again?”

“Drustan hesitated.”

“I could try. I know where he tends to hang around. He’s very wary but he was very kind to me and gave me a fair price for my basket. I wouldn’t try and trap him. I might be able to persuade him. They say he’s a ferocious swordsman and I wouldn’t want to see blood spilled.”

“You're very wise young lady. I would be obliged if you could find him and persuade him. My soldiers have singularly failed. He obviously doesn’t trust me though I mean him no harm. What I need is information. Without information I am at a disadvantage.”

“Very well sire, I will seek him out even as I leave here but promise me you will not harm him, he was very kind to me.”

The king smiled. The maiden had been particularly bold to extract a promise from a king but he acceded to her plea.

“Very well maid. You have my sworn promise that I will not harm him. If you find him I will make you a licensed purveyor to the palace.”

“Why thank you my liege. My father will be thrilled.”

Drustan backed out displaying all the servility and fawning manner that he could muster. The king wagged his head and smiled for the maid was very attractive. So attractive indeed that he had forgotten to ask the maid her name!