The Bretwalda (The Casere Book 4) (37 page)

She tried to wriggle from his grasp, and there was no escape from Conn’s iron grip. ‘As for consequence, I am removing you from your command. Everyone will know. You have both been demoted. Brenna is now Captain of the Trokian forces that remain – under the command of Oswah. Your tabards are to be relinquished, and you are now just another company within the Grey Jackets. You are to spend the rest of this war at my side or with Derryth.’

She flared at him. ‘You can’t do that! I am Aebeling. I will lead my people. I will not agree.’

‘If you do not agree, I will take away the position of Aebeling and give that to Brenna as well.’

She was deeply shocked at the suggestion. ‘You can’t do that! It is my birth right!’

‘You are correct – I can’t. But the Witan can. And who will the Witan members agree with – me or you?’

She had a total fit now, hitting at his chest until the whole thing overcame her and she burst into tears and collapsed wailing on his chest. Brenna burst into tears as well, and she came and hugged her twin as she cried. Untangling her from him, Brenna led Tulia to her bed and held her there as she cried. Conn and everyone else left the room so that she could grieve.

‘That was tough.’ Derryth said quietly as they walked back to their camp. ‘I need wine.’

‘Very. Would you have been able to execute her?’

‘Would you have been able to order her execution?’

‘I asked first.’

‘I’ll answered first.’

~oo0oo~

The next morning, it was obvious that the Ancuman had pulled up sticks and headed west. Whilst savouring their victory, they would have known that they were outnumbered. Conn gave them a day’s head start and then ordered his troops forward. As they rode, stragglers of wounded men appeared; deserted by their comrades. Vigbert’s men and medics treated the men and added them to their entourage. They were not treated as prisoners and they were not questioned by Conn’s men.

As they rode, Vigbert came to ride alongside him. A sorrowful Tulia rode on the other side. Vigbert greeted her formally before addressing Conn.

‘I’ve heard that the commander of the men in Panua has been having a huge problem keeping his fyrd together – which is why he has retreated. An entire company deserted – under the command of a Jarl.’

‘A Jarl? Which one?’

‘Siri – the Jarl of Siri – his name is Sigrin.’

‘Is he not the one that is your cousin?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Well we need to do something about that. Which way?’

‘I believe he said to the west – to the mountains.’

‘We will need to ride fast then. Are your men ready?’

‘They are.’

Conn called Wilric and he send out riders. Leaving Eldward in charge, Conn, Derryth and Tulia rode out with Vigbert and a company of Sagittari. The Axum took desertion poorly – the reason they had left was so they could track down the deserters and put them to the sword – probably to the last man. They would need Conn’s assistance if they were to stay alive.

After an hour of hard riding – and they had gone much higher in the hills then they needed to, they rested their horses on a ridge that overlooked a valley that led to the town and the sea. Conn and Derryth scanned the horizon.

‘There,’ they said simultaneously.

‘Which one are you looked at – the Axum or the Jarl?’ Conn asked.

‘The Jarl – he has a tenuous position on a ridge – perhaps five hundred men – they will be overrun within hours. And you?’

‘The Axum – perhaps a thousand men are coming up the valley.’

‘So do we attack or do we defend?’

Conn paused to contemplate. ‘Both. Vigbert; raise your standards and ride straight for the ridge; you go and help the Jarl. We are going to slow the Axum down.’ He issued orders and riders started to spread down the mountain. Conn looked at Tulia. ‘You understand what we are going to do?’

‘Yes, Pa..,’ she paused; it had been a while since she’d called him anything. She started again. ‘Yes, papa, I do. I will ride on your left.’

‘Try not to hit me with an arrow, okay?’

She smiled. ‘I’ll try.’

Within ten minutes, the Axum, despite their determined pace up the mountain, sighted the rides on the ridge top, and immediately set up a defensive wall. It was partly in place when the first wave of Twacuman passed by the line. Their horses were Elfina, fast, agile and very sure on their feet. They flew down the side of the mountain, loosening thirty arrows a minute. Scores of animals and riders stumbled and fell, and a whole company raced out to engage the fleeting bowmen. Unfortunately for them, they ran into Conn and his squad of Kerchians – although not armoured, they still carried their lances and swords.

Like most battles involving Conn, the ending was quick; the lead column had encountered the reinforced troop of deserters on the knoll, and with the flanks being decimated, they decided it was better to fight another day than die this one, and they turned and fled.

Highly disciplined and following clear instructions, Conn’s troops halted and did not follow the retreating Axum. Tulia was perplexed.

‘I don’t understand – if we ride after them, we can eliminate them all.’

‘I have no desire to eliminate them all, Tulia, I don’t just want to win the battles on the field – I want to win the battle of minds as well. If we wipe them all out, what will they think of me?’

‘That you are a General to be feared – death is assured.’

‘And do I show mercy?’

‘No’ she said proudly, ‘you will be the unmerciful – death to all who stand in your way! Mercy is a weakness.’

‘No. Simplicity, patience, and compassion are one’s greatest treasures. I was taught that. You should have learnt that. Do they have a choice about standing in my way?’

‘Of course not, they are Axum wiga… so death is their destiny.’

‘You don’t see a problem with that?’

‘No I don’t – unless you want them to surrender and why would …’ She stopped to look around and saw Vigbert and men she did not know ride towards her. ‘Vigbert is to be Healdend of the Axum… so you do want them to surrender, don’t you?’

‘I do not want the blood of one more person than absolutely necessary on my hands, Tulia, you have no idea how many men I have already caused the death of.’

Vigbert pulled up with a middle aged man, dishevelled, dirty, and battle worn, at his side. He introduced Sigrin, Jarl of Siri.

The Jarl bowed respectfully and expressed his gratitude at being rescued. He explained that he was surprised at the fast reaction of the commander of the Axum fyrd – he did not expect him to retreat from his battle with Conn so quickly – Sigrin expected to be well ensconced in the hills before he would be pursued.

‘It would seem the prophecy holds a high level of fear amongst that side of the family.’

‘Indeed. When we saw the Eagle’s Claw; they was much confusion. There have been rumours but nothing of substance. Thank you again.’

Pleasantries over, Vigbert took the Jarl to his men to deal with the condition of his men – there were injuries and such to deal with. It was thus late by the time that had returned to camp. They were slowed down by the many wounded wiga from the Axum forces they collected on the way down; who were then treated by Conn’s medics. Many would make a full recovery.

As they arrived, rain became the main concern. The weather was quickly turning for the worst, with heavy rainclouds bearing down from the mountains, Under the relative comfort of their tents, the saw it rain all night.

Conn handed a beer to Derryth. ‘Would I be right in suggesting that this is no normal storm.’

‘It tries hard to be normal but it fails. I sense something strange about it.’

As it rained, one of the wounded requested to meet him and he went with Vigbert. Dry in the tent, he had multiple arrow wounds – all not fatal, but enough to stop him travelling far in the next few days.

He introduced himself as Finkarl, eldest son of the Jarl of Clusium. He said that he was grateful for being saved, and his father would pay whatever ransom he desired. He also asked if it was true that Nobatia and Himyar now had Healdend in place – and all Axum had been expelled.

Conn nodded. ‘Indeed they have. The entire south is free of Axum control – all that remains is to remove the north from Farstein control.’

‘So the prophecy will come to pass, then. The supposed treachery of Farstein will result in his house being replaced by Geirfrith.’

‘Which house are you?’

‘Farstein – but my mother is of Himyar blood. She will be happy that her house if free again. So you will ransom me?’

Conn shook his head. ‘No – I won’t. When this is over you will be free to go without penalty. I think the Jarls are already too poor to ask for more ryals.’ Conn watched the shock and then relief in his face. ‘Of course, your behaviour from this point forward determines IF you will have a Jarl demesne at the end. I’m sure that the house of Geirfrith will be happy enough to remove all of Farstein from their demesne – if they win of course. I’m doing my best to see that they will. And if you would care to imagine all the wiga from the south fighting in unison with my fyrd, I’m sure that you can imagine the outcome.’

He nodded. ‘If I may ask one more question – what of the troops led by Farrun of Nobatia? They were to our north but we have no information from them for some time. Have they been destroyed?’

‘No. Farrun is now Aebeling in Nobatia; heir to the Healdend. The rest are back in their demesne.’

‘I still don’t understand… how did they get home?’

‘I provided them ships – I have just returned from Aeaea and before that Nobatia.’

The shock was visible on his face. ‘You were in Nobatia? How is that possible – and how is it that Farrun the Bastard could be Aebeling. He is a great Folctoga – without comparison – but to be Aebeling he needs to know his father’s name.’

‘He found his father.’ Conn said matter of factually.

‘Really? And what is his father’s name?’

‘Conn il Taransay, Marquis of Kerch in Sytha.’

‘You! You are Farrun the Bas… the Folctoga’s father. I am …’ He really didn’t know what to say.

‘Can you see how that changes things?’

‘I can.’

‘Good. Nice chat. Maybe we will speak again later. When you are well enough you can come and eat with us in my tent.’ He whispered the last comment. ‘The food and wine is better there.’

~oo0oo~

The next morning, they broke camp early and headed for the village of Panua. The wounded were left behind with Vigbert, and he would follow in a few days. As they arrived to Panua, the effect of the heavy downpour the night before was clearly evident. The Axum had tried in vain to burn every single building, but the driving drenching rain had made that impossible. Scorch marks were everywhere but nothing was destroyed. Not being able to do anything about it, the Axum had left everything behind, and fled south in the mud and slurry. Scouts trailed them and reported back to Conn that they were pulling back as far as Oxmon or Mazra.

The fyrd sent to work repairing and rebuilding, and as they scoured the buildings, they found more Axum wiga injured and sick, in the longhouses. They were moved to the infirmary in the main building, and the medics tended their wounds. After consultation, Conn decided to stay a few days and sent pigeons to Trokia for reinforcements, now that he knew his requirements.

Panua had a rudimentary port, just suitable for fishing vessels, and a lot of effort was expended making this more suitable for the junks that would soon arrive. The town was less than four days from Trokia by ship, and dozens of vessels would be arriving over the next thirty days.

As they repaired the village, they sometimes ate supper with Vigbert and the Jarl of Sigrin. He was much better. His wounds were healing and he was dressed resplendently in the uniform of a Colonel in Vigbert’s fyrd. Drinking together, Conn learnt more about the two houses. Sigrin was full of information.

‘For the last three hundred years, the houses have stayed apart – the daughters of Geirfrith made a blood oath to never serve the men of the house of Farstein. Whenever they were made to do so, somehow – and despite the best will of the Bretwalda, they always managed to commit suicide – and they always took their children with them. Finally, the Bretwalda gave up – until recently – when he took Asvi il Jamut as his bedda – but his fifth – and when he was very old. He even sired a daughter with her – she would be of bedda age…’

‘Steinvi.’

‘You know of her?’

‘Yes – she is, as of a few days ago, Vigbert’s bedda – and at this very moment she is in Trokia.’

Sigrin chocked and spluttered on his wine. After he had regained his composure, Conn had to ask the obvious.

‘You seemed a little surprised about that.’

‘I am – but it now makes perfect sense. Do you know the story of Geirfrith and the house of Jamut?’

Vigbert nodded. ‘I spent the last few lunars in Jamut so I have whisperings – but not the full story.’

‘Also astounding. But first the story; Geirfrith was a cruel man but he had honour – and he was feared because of his cruelty but worshiped because of his bravery and his skill as Folctoga. His achievements in the Southern Isles are legendary. He also had many bedda – a lot taken by force with his conquests. As soon as they were pregnant he would discard them, given them to his followers as bedda and for them to raise his children. Most were daughters but he had four sons. He had one son with the daughter of the Jarl of Jamut - Invevir. Invevir was his first child and Geirfrith was very young when he took the daughter as bedda – and it was by agreement. When Geirfrith was murdered by Farstein, his Invevir son was in Jamut with his son, Sigkarl. Soon Invevir, as well as two of his brothers and their sons, and their numerous grandsons, were all murdered. Only two survived – they were both babies. They did not touch the daughters. The Bretwalda knew of Sigkarl but his grandfather protected him. Eventually he had an agreement with the Bretwalda that would allow the child to live. There was a price to that agreement.’