Robin Herne is an educator, poet, storyteller, poet, artist, dog-owner and Druid. He has written numerous articles for Pagan magazines and has appeared in television documentaries. He lives in Ipswich, UK.

A Dangerous Place Reprint Edition

By Robin Herne

John Hunt Publishing Ltd.

Copyright © 2009 Robin Herne
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-78279-211-6

Contents

Introduction………………………………………………………1A Contention of Druids……………………………………………..4First Story Notes………………………………………………….13The Fourth Tail……………………………………………………15Second Story Notes…………………………………………………27The Mark of Cain…………………………………………………..29Third Story Notes………………………………………………….47The Fricwebba……………………………………………………..50Fourth Story Notes…………………………………………………72The Golem of Ipswich……………………………………………….74Fifth Story Notes………………………………………………….95Suffer a Witch…………………………………………………….97Sixth Story Notes………………………………………………….131Angel’s Blood……………………………………………………..136Seventh Story Notes………………………………………………..166A Doctor Calls…………………………………………………….168Eighth Story Notes…………………………………………………202The Black Dog……………………………………………………..205Ninth Story Notes………………………………………………….236No Way to Treat a Goddess…………………………………………..239Tenth Story Notes………………………………………………….268

CHAPTER 1

A Contention of Druids

Senorix ran the string of amber beads through his fingers, agesture that his handsome bodyguard Luccus recognised assignifying deep thought. The old Druid’s eyes took in thedesecrated grove where flies gathered on the carcass of the frailold man whose blood splattered the wooden altar. They haddelicately searched the diminutive body, the investigator lookingat the three small items found in a leather pouch – a knucklebone,a Greek coin, and a wooden talisman.

Riomandus had been his tutor, many decades earlier, and theyhad remained close after Senorix had attained the Druid’s mantleand been sent out into the world to serve the Iceni. That such anoble life should end in such violence sickened him, inured as hewas to the sight of sudden death.

“I don’t like this place,” commented the tactless young warrioras he shooed away a crow that hovered hungrily nearby. “Hemust have been hated with a passion. The first blow must havekilled him, but to go on and on hacking at the body in thatmanner—”

“Suggests a mind unhinged by rage or fear. See those threewounds to Riomandus’ throat? They have nearly severed hishead. I wonder if the murderer was especially incensed bysomething that my old teacher said?”

“According to the Uerdruis, old Riomandus only arrived herea week ago. What on earth could somebody say in the space of aweek to produce such a reaction? Did he have an especiallypoisonous tongue?” Luccus ran a hand through his long hair.

“Never in all the years I knew him; Riomandus was a man ofpeace. Even when dealing with idiots he was uncommonly kindand gentle. I had so looked forward to hearing him speak again.His insights into the ways of the Gods were profound, and I havenever met anyone who knew more about medicine than he.Come, Luccus, let us consult with the revered Uerdruis.”

“We cannot go ahead with the convocation until the spirit of mydear friend has been satisfied.” The senior Druid’s voicetrembled with emotion.

Senorix already understood the importance of the gathering,and the necessity of resolving the vexed issue of rightful sacrificethat threatened to pull the Druid world apart. “Tell me,honoured Dubnos, how did this terrible waste of life come to bediscovered?” the sun-browned sage asked, as they stood on oneof the few dry patches along the marshy banks of the river andwatched the passage of the birds across the grey waters.

“Trenus, guardian of this sacred grove, and his assistantCatus came to prepare the area for the morning prayers – andwere nearly knocked down by Riomandus’ own nephew, thewarrior Atto, fleeing the scene. That was about an hour afterdawn, as Trenus was late waking. I had kept the poor mantalking nearly all night, discussing his somewhat eccentricreligious views. I was summoned immediately. Riomandus wasquite cold and I will swear that he had been dead since no laterthan midnight, maybe a couple of hours earlier. The last anyoneadmits to seeing him alive was at the evening meditation.”

The tall, cadaverous Trenus made a comical contrast to the short,rotund Catus as they led the procession carrying the bier with apale woollen shroud covering the corpse. They wound their wayawkwardly down the path that spiralled from the grove atop thehill. Senorix and Luccus waited patiently at the base of the hilluntil the tubby man sonorously finished chanting the prayers forthe dead. The two investigators approached, making the gesturesof greeting, and Senorix noticed the thick cataracts that musthave rendered Trenus all but blind. The sombre Druid gesturedfor them to follow him back up to the sacred glade, where hisassistant began gathering some articles left upon the woodenaltar slab.

“I commend you on the beauty of the holy nemeton that youguard, honoured Trenus. I see that you have recently installed anintriguingly carved pillar behind the altar.”

A smile twitched the sombre features of the guardian, as heindicated his assistant and introduced him as not only the tribe’sgutuator but also an accomplished wood carver.

The short man positively bloomed under the dry praise,gazing puppy-eyed at his superior. “Not only a great singer butan artisan too? I wonder that you are not a devotee of Lugus ofthe Many Skills, yet I do not recall seeing any of the symbols ofthe blessed God in the nemeton. Though I am sure I had heardthat this glade was dedicated to Belinos – is there not a healingspring near here? But I have not seen the Radiant One’s signshere … nor do I recognise the curious swirling symbols on the newpillar.”

“No,” Trenus cut across Catus’s flustering, “our tribe did oncepay homage to Lugus and Belinos amongst others, but we havebeen blessed with many visions of recent years which have led usto dedicate ourselves almost exclusively to Croucacrumbas. Wehave always been an impoverished community, this land beinglittle suited to farming. Yet since the Great One called to me, wehave had excellent harvests.”

It was something of a running joke that the tiny clan thatdwelt in the small village on the banks of the River Ura neverknew if they were Iceni or Trinovantes, until the royalmessengers passed through. The interminable petty disputesbetween the two kingdoms meant that the marshy hinterland wasoften traded back and forth.

“Then I must learn more of this God, for I confess his name isunknown to me. Tell me, had you spoken much to poorRiomandus since his arrival at your community?” Senorix asked,running a hand over his hairless sun-browned pate.

“Very little,” the lips pressed tightly together in disapproval,”our humble nemeton is honoured to have been chosen by thenoble Uerdruis for this gathering of the learned. Yet I could wishthat some would confine their minds to the needs of their owntribes and not dictate what others should do.”

Catus’s chins wobbled in vigorous agreement, and hesuddenly burst into a voluble description of the murderousmannerisms of the warrior Atto who had that very dawn fled thescene of his unspeakable crime of kin slaying. Senorix and hisassistant had considerable difficulty tearing themselves awayfrom the singer’s repeated demands for advice on how best topurify a holy place violated by such a deed.

The wretched nephew stared up at his interrogators with grief-swolleneyes. Alcohol had robbed much of his memory of theprevious twenty-four hours, and he repeatedly cursed himselffor having over-imbibed with his fellow swordsmen. Luccus,who had been one of his drinking companions showed littlesympathy and demanded to know the nature of his last meetingwith the revered Riomandus.

“It is true that I was unkind to him, may Brigantia forgive mefor such churlishness. I was keen to get to the feasting hall for thedrinking and … other distractions, and Uncle kept asking me sillyquestions. I became impatient and snapped at him, but that is all.There was no bad blood between us.”

“What questions did he ask?” Senorix leaned forward, hispiercing blue eyes fixing the young man.

“He kept asking me if I’d heard tell of battle captives held forransom by the local tribe, and then started on about the pawbones I gave him. He always wore a bracelet of dog bones, beingespecially devoted to the god Noudens, but it broke on thejourney and most of the bones were lost in a river crossing. Ifound a couple of new ones for him, auspicious ones too becausethey must have been left over from a sacrifice made in thenemeton.”

“And did you know of any captives?”

“No, the Ura clan are peaceful to the point of monotony. Theynever go to war. I went to the nemeton to tell him as much, but hewas dead when I got there.”

They sat on a fallen tree gazing out over the slowly undulatingriver, Luccus describing a strange dream that had come to him ina grove of Noudens many years earlier and Senorix admiring thepassing swans. A tall woman approached them from the directionof the temporary druids’ encampment, and Venerable Senorixrecognised her bleached ash staff before he recognised her linedface. He stood and greeted Illica in the traditional manner.

“Why have I not been questioned in the matter of Riomandus’death?” she thrust her jaw out pugnaciously and glared at him,ignoring Luccus, “I am a natural suspect given the manyarguments I had with the dead man.”

“I was not aware that any of these arguments were other thanphilosophical disputes, Illica, or did you take them as somepersonal insult?”

“Of course not!” she sounded genuinely shocked, running herhand so vigorously through her iron-grey hair that the tight knotcame loose. “I am not some silly maid given to tears andtantrums when her ideas are challenged.”

Luccus looked away, even he was aware of Illica’s reputationfor temperamental mood swings since leaving her fertile yearsbehind. He had noted that she was also quite a powerfully builtwoman, and looked as if she might be easily capable of deliveringthe fatal wounds.

“I last saw him,” she continued as if Senorix had actuallyasked the question, “just before dawn. I awoke early, unable tosleep properly in that uncomfortable bed and fed up listening tosome idiot playing an improperly tuned lyre. I had gone out insearch of something to drink. Riomandus was walking towardsthe hill where the grove stands. I greeted him but got noresponse. He was getting a trifle deaf, so I took no offence.Nobody followed him, though I admit I was not really payingmuch attention.”

“I am quite familiar with Riomandus’ insistence that only awilling sacrifice can carry messages across to the Divine Realms.However, I have never heard your views directly, only secondhand.”

“Oh, right, well …” she seemed slightly taken aback by thechange of tack in the gentle old man’s questioning, “in my tribethere are certain crimes for which no éraic can be paid. Oh, Iknow you Iceni demand an honour price for every crime, shortof kin-slaying, but that is not our way. Last year an eight-year-oldgirl was raped in our tribe, and I determined that her own fatherwas guilty of the deed. A depraved creature, I recommended thathe be disposed of and the chieftain agreed. He was sacrificed andit wasn’t quick, I can tell you that, but it was a chance for him toredeem an otherwise worthless life by doing some small good forthe people he should have cared for in life.”

“That is certainly one view,” Senorix murmured, “the lasttime I encountered a similar case the man was beaten to death bythe father of the child he had abused before any judgement couldbe passed.”

“People like that are better left as wolf-meat than sent to beamongst the Gods!” Luccus snarled, raising an irate glare fromthe druidess.

“Do you know what this is?” Senorix asked before his fellowphilosopher could launch into a tirade.

“Of course,” she glanced at the old man’s open palm, “it’s afinger bone.”

“I know, which is all the stranger when we are amongst apeople who never go to war and abide peacefully by the law oféraic. Were we up amongst you Coritani, I might be lessperturbed!”

The silver-haired Uerdruis sat on the raised wooden benchplaced in the sacred grove and surveyed the fifty-odd men andwomen gathered on benches beneath the trees. For the first timein living memory Esico, the headsman of the Clan Ura, had beenallowed to bring two warriors into the nemeton, ready to enforcethe law. Luccus himself had insisted on also attending to protecthis patron and enforce justice on those who might seek to escapeit.

The Uerdruis stood and called for the Sword of Nodens to bedrawn. Luccus came forward, and held aloft his own blade – undernormal protocol the local chieftain would have used hisown weapon, but the headsman possessed only an ill-kemptrusty antique. With due reverence, the bodyguard unsheathedthe sword and lay both scabbard and blade alongside each otheron the altar.

Only when the god of justice was invoked was a weaponpermitted in a holy nemeton. Once all prayers and blessings weresaid, the Uerdruis turned to face the seated sages and banged hisapple wood staff causing the bells on it to jangle melodically.

“We gather before the eyes of our Gods to discuss the heatedmatter of whether sacrifice of a human life must always be of onewilling given, as the late Riomandus and his students contend, orif the lives of unwilling criminals and prisoners of battle may alsoserve as acceptable offerings to the Old Ones, as Illica and hercompanions claim. Yet first, before we may come to a conclusionon such matters, we must resolve the brutal destruction of one ofour own. The Gods have equipped us with the presence ofSenorix, whose skill at untangling such mysteries is well known.”He made the gesture of approval towards the thin, hazel-skinnedman who sat to his left, hood pulled down. Senorix rose andstepped forward.

“Thank you, learned Dubnos. When searching the body of therevered Riomandus we found a single bone in his pouch, last ofseveral which Atto says he gave his uncle to replace some dogbones lost en route. I conclude from this that Atto did not inherithis uncle’s love of medicine, for this is no canine bone. It is achild’s finger bone, which Atto found in this very glade. My oldtutor asked his nephew if any battle captives have been taken bythis tribe, perhaps following the logic that Trenus, as a followerof Illica’s school of thought, might have sacrificed someunwilling captive. Yet the headsman here will confirm that theyhave had no prisoners of any age, so I ask of the guardian howhuman fingers came to be within this nemeton?”

Trenus shook with suppressed fury as he leapt to his feet, theyoung headsman paling before the clouded orbs. “Once again anoutsider dares to interfere with our ways! What business is it ofyours how we honour the mighty Croucacrumbus?”

“You have slaughtered a child in offering?” Dubnos theelegant Uerdruis was incredulous, and even the bombastic Illicalooked shocked.

“Three years past He came to me in a vision!” Trenusstumbled rapturously towards the carved pillar. “Our peoplehave flourished since we gave the Lord of the Mound what hedesires. You spoke of Lugus – what did he ever do for us? No,only the lord has granted us what we so desperately needed andhe asks so little in exchange. With so many mouths to feed, whatcost is it to have a few less?”

The gathering erupted in outrage, and the elderly lady near tothe headsman raised her staff as if to strike him for toleratingsuch an outrage. It was not until Luccus and his fellow warriorshauled the increasingly incoherent Trenus away that theUerdruis was finally able to restore some order.

“Not only must Trenus account for the slaying ofRiomandus,” his tremulous voice echoed round the glade, “butEsico must also answer for failing to uphold the duties of aheadsman and preventing this madness.”

“Trenus is indeed guilty of the sacrifice of innocents,” Senorixsaid, turning his back upon the disgraced headsman, “however, Ido not believe it was his hand that struck down Riomandus. Theguilt is upon his assistant, the singer Catus. Austere Trenus hadbeen talking to our revered Chief Druid all evening, and I doubtso ill-sighted a man could commit any kind of crime in the dark.Catus, you are his right hand in all things, I say that you silencedold Riomandus when he asked too many questions about thebones. Not only did you fear censure for the unwarranted sacrifices,but dreaded what would happen to the Ura if this insanepact was broken.”

Spitting obscenities, Catus lunged at his denouncer with thesacrificial blade drawn from beneath his robes. Luccus wasquicker, and a flash of sword severed the murderous arm at theelbow, the blood spouting across the carved pillar in a finaloffering to Croucacrumbus.

First Story Notes

North Suffolk was mainly under the control of the Iceni, andSouth Suffolk under the Trinovantes. Exactly where the borderbetween these two tribes lay is anyone’s guess, though the RiverLark is often cited as a strong possibility. However, it probablyfluctuated over time with skirmishes between the tribes. There isevidence of small-scale settlement in the Ipswich area, mostnotable for leaving behind a deposit of gold torques. It isuncertain whether these were ritual offerings, or concealed tokeep them safe during a raid – with the implication that thepeople who buried them may not have lived long enough to goback and dig them up.

The Iceni (not their actual name, but a Latin approximation ofhow to pronounce it) left behind coins bearing horse imagery. Ina later trend the imagery switched to that of a wolf – this couldsuggest a change in religious allegiances from an equine to alupine deity (or, given that they were polytheists, the introductionof an additional deity), or may reflect alterations in aruling dynasty with new emblems, or merely artistic trends. Thewolf images in time gave way to depictions of the wild boar.

Ancient cemeteries have been found in a number of areasaround present-day Ipswich, including a major find ofimpressive gold torques unearthed in the late 1960s from theBelstead area.
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