“Good question; well, the Saxons were a group of Germanic tribes first mentioned as living near the North Sea coast of what is now Germany in late Roman times. They were soon mentioned as raiding and settling in many North Sea areas, as well as pushing south inland towards the Franks. Significant numbers settled in large parts of Great Britain in the early Middle-Ages and formed part of the merged group of Anglo-Saxons who eventually organised the first united Kingdom of England.
“You see, as the Romans left, Britain disintegrated into tribal regions once more, as there was nothing keeping them together. This Saxon Kingdom did not include all England, as some parts resolutely refused to be part of a Saxon Empire. Many Saxons however, remained in Germania, where they resisted the expanding Frankish Empire through the leadership of the semi-legendary Saxon hero, Widukind.
“The Saxons’ earliest area of settlement is believed to have been Northern Albingia, an area approximately that of modern Holstein, in Germany. This general area also included the probable homeland of the Angles. Saxons, along with the Angles and other continental Germanic tribes, participated in the Anglo-Saxon settlement of Britain during and after the 5th century. The British-Celtic inhabitants of the isles tended to refer to all these groups collectively as Saxons. It is unknown how many Saxons migrated from the continent to Britain, though estimates for the total number of Anglo-Saxon settlers are around 200,000.”
“That doesn’t seem that many by modern standards,” said Gwen. “Who called them Saxons?”
“I know what you mean; two hundred thousand is the population of a small town, these days. You have to remember that Britain was still mainly forest, with patches of cleared spaces. In the year 500AD, it was probably still possible to walk from Cornwall to the North of Scotland and be close to trees all the way.
“As for the name, it was given to them by the Celts who were here first. In the Celtic languages, the words designating English nationality derive from the Latin word Saxones. The most prominent example, a loanword in English, is the Scottish Gaelic Sassenach, often used disparagingly in Scottish English/Scots. It derives from the Scottish Gaelic Sasunnach meaning, originally, "Saxon", from the Latin "Saxones". Scots - or Scottish English -speakers in the 21st century usually use it in jest, as a term of friendly abuse. The Oxford English Dictionary gives 1771 as the date of the earliest written use of the word in English.
“A similar sounding word, Sasanach, the Irish word for an Englishman, has the same derivation, as do the words used in Welsh to describe the English people and the language and things English in generaclass="underline" Saesneg and Seisnig. Cornish terms the English Sawsnek, from the same derivation. In the 16th century, Cornish-speakers used the phrase Meea navidna cowza sawzneck to feign ignorance of the English language.
“England in Scottish Gaelic, is Sasainn - meaning Saxony. Other examples include the Welsh Saesneg - the English language. The Irish word, Sasana, which means England, the Breton saoz(on), which means English, and so on.”
Both women stared at the man. His knowledge of the Saxons was amazing.
He went to a large bureau and removed various note pads.
“Over the years, I’ve rummaged through churchyards and all manner of places, taking notes of all sorts of different writings and symbols. I have a few here that I’ve never been able to decipher, so perhaps you might know what they mean, or even what language they are. As I said, I’m reasonably well versed in Saxon and Scandinavian scripts, but am uninformed about their predecessors - the Celts.”
He smiled apologetically, adding, “You see, I am not desperately interested in the Celts, and one can but concentrate on one thing at a time.”
He placed the papers on the table, spreading them out.
Most were innocuous, taken from old tombs and headstones. As Gwen rummaged through the papers, she found one that interested her. It was Celtic, but of a latter period, around 800 AD.
“This is obviously from a pot or similar?” she asked.
“Yes, is it Celtic?”
“Yes, I think so. It looks like a basic recipe or perhaps a list of medicinal ingredients. Jane?” she passed it to Tamsyn, who had forgotten she was supposed to be Jane. She took the paper that Gwen handed her.
“Soup,” she said, on reading it. “Mutton broth, to be precise. Look, take a hunk of leg of mutton, carrots, turnips, I think that’s fennel or some other plant, add herbs and I don’t recognise these, barley and chickpeas. Boil for a day to soften meat, remove bones, add seasoning and serve with bread.”
“You read Celtic script?” Matthew asked, astounded that the young slip of a girl could do so with ease.
“I’m not sure I can read all of them, but this is just like Cornish, and I read Cornish.”
“Interesting; would you mind taking a look some inscriptions I took from an old sword that came into my possession some years ago? I suspect that it is old and probably early Celt, but I am uncertain how old.”
“Yes, if you’d like me to.”
“Come to my personal office; I have them all on the computer.”
As soon as Tamsyn walked through the door of the wood-panelled office, she knew the sword was close. It was like all the fine hairs on her body started to tingle. The vision she had experienced when first in the tree of the boy and the murdering Saxon became alarmingly real again.
She forced herself to calm down, as it might be something else.
The women watched as Matthew went to the desk. He started up the computer on the desk and signalled her to come and look. Displayed on the screen, point down on red velvet, moulded backing was the sword to which he referred – her sword.
Tamsyn felt the hairs on the back of her neck start to stand once more and the bubble of excitement welled up inside her. She attempted valiantly to contain her feelings, as this was the sword. This was indeed, the sword that lay at the heart of her quest – the reason for her existence.
“Oh, what an interesting piece,” said Gwen, instantly seeing that Tamsyn was transfixed.
“Yes, I bought this from a dealer some six years ago,” Matthew lied, watching the girl like a hawk. “I’m not sure of its origins, so if you could read the inscriptions, that might help.”
“Do you have it here?” Gwen asked.
“No, it’s in London with an antiquities specialist, as I am contemplating selling it and am trying to get a value for it. As it’s not Saxon, I’m not desperate to keep it,” he said, lying nicely.
Seeing it on the screen was a torture for the girl. Tamsyn wanted to take and hold the sword. She knew every inch, every scratch and every notch on its worn and scarred blade. She knew what the inscription said before she even saw it.
Matthew zoomed the photograph in so the inscription was clear.
The three of them stared at the blade for a few moments.
“Well?” asked Matthew, more eagerly than he meant to.
“May I see the other side?” Tamsyn asked.
The man returned to the keypad and entered some more numbers. Another photograph clicked into place, and he zoomed in on the inscription.
Tamsyn stepped forward and looked down at the screen.
“It looks to be early Celtic, but some of the characters are quite faded with wear and time. One or two seem to be almost familiar. It’s not Cornish, neither is it Welsh, I think. It could be older, from before the languages split and all went their own ways.”
“Interesting. How early?” he asked.
Tamsyn shrugged and looked to Gwen.
“Cornish started to split from Welsh in around 700, so if there were Celtic speakers in Britain before the Romans, perhaps as early at 100BC,” the older woman said.