The Marquis (12 page)

Inside, the Eaorl himself waited for them – thought he was in his death bed and not talking. Conn was soon advised by his bedda that Eldhart, Eaorl of Matya had an arrow wound to his shoulder. After welcoming him to their humble abode, his bedda explained that, regretfully, Eldhart would be unable to see them as he was too ill.

Conn asked when the Eaorl had been injured.

‘Just a month ago. We thought the wound was fine – it was not that serious but it got worse instead of better.’

‘I have training as a medic. Would it be okay if I inspected his wound?’

‘Yes, of course.’

It didn’t take much expertise to realize that the wound had turned septic, and the Eaorl also had a high fever.

‘Poison on the arrow is my guess. Would you be agreeable to me treating his wound? He will die soon if nothing is done.’

‘Can you save him?’

‘I’m not sure, but I can try.’

Desperate but needing reassurance they looked to Derryth? ‘Do you think that would be the right thing to do?’

Both tried hard to retain composure but the situation was serious. Derryth kept a straight face and a serious tone. ‘Yes, I believe so.’

They nodded their approval and Conn issued orders.

‘First, we need to build a steam house.’

With the assistance of Logistics, within a couple of hours they had a steam house built from bracken, and covered with felt. In its centre, it had a large stone that they heated with a fire, and then steamed the room with lashings of water water. Surgical instruments were sterilized while dressings prepared.

Conn had the Eaorl taken to the steam house after they had undressed, washed and steamed him with eucalyptus and tea tree oils. The wound reopened and cleaned, and maggots were placed on the putrefied flesh. He was then placed in the steam room. As he came in and out of his coma, they fed him soups made by chicken soup. The maggots removed, they dressed the wound in honey and sterile swabs, and massage his limbs to assist circulation.

After twenty four hours the fever broke, and he lapsed into a deep but safe sleep. As Conn waited for the Eaorl to wake and for his cows to arrive, he supervised his men as the renovated the Eaorl’s roundhouse. Just for Derryth. At night Conn went on patrol, not because he felt unsafe, but because he didn’t need a lot of sleep. It was also a habit his fyrd need to maintain, and he led by example.

‘You are up early, Marquis…’

Conn spun around to the voice. It wasn’t close but it disturbed him that the person had gotten as close as it had without him noticing. It was a woman, and she was sitting under a tree, and had obviously been there for some time.

Shaking his head, Conn returned his sword to the scabbard. ‘I could say the same about you.’

‘You would be wrong. I have not yet been to sleep.’ She stood and walked toward him. Short in stature, she made up in voluptuousness. Conn had noticed her before – because she was not Larsan and was treated as a theow. He understood that she was Merian. ‘It is good that you have put away the sword – unless of course you want to use it to cut my clothes from me…’

Conn laughed. ‘I’ve never had to do that.’

She was deadpan in response. ‘I guess that might be true. Then I will remove my clothes for you without destroying them… if that is what you’d prefer?’

For once Conn didn’t have an answer. He was speechless.

She held out her hand. ‘Come, I am theow – it matters not who I fornicate with. I know a place that we won’t be disturbed or discovered. Will you be missed on your patrol of the empty forest?’

‘I think it will survive without me…’

~oo0oo~

When the Eaorl finally woke, Conn and Derryth were watching the first of the cows to arrive in the village. A runner came to tell him that the Eaorl wished to see him. Conn went to the roundhouse, where he had been returned after his fever had broken.

Conn found a very awake, albeit weak, living Eaorl. He was eagerly eating a stew. He welcomed Derryth most reverently, and then thanked Conn for saving him. He was surprised to be alive.

Conn agreed. ‘It was very close. If I had arrived in another day, I think you would be dead.’

‘You have my eternal gratitude.’ He indicated to his roundhouse. ‘I gather that you have been responsible for many things – including the work in my home. I have never known such luxury. I believe in times past Larsa had homes such as this.’

As well as the drainage, Conn had arranged some serious modifications to his roundhouse – a new chimney was under construction, a new floor had been laid, and everything had been limed to get rid of the insects. He had explained it as necessary for his survival.

‘And I hear we have cows from Samria again. I don’t know what to make of it all.’ He coughed, he was still weak. “I do know that I owe you my life, Marquis, and I am in your debt – a debt that I must repay. It is rare that someone as sick as me survives. You have very strong magic – but then you have an advisor from the Twacuman nation. I do not understand why I became so ill so quickly.’

Conn explained that “Derryth” had ascertained that he had been poisoned – that assassins regularly used poison as a backup for an unsuccessful attack. Conn asked him if he was sure he was the target.

He shook his head. ‘No – it was my son, Eonoth. If I had not stood up when I did, he would be dead.’ He paused to look at Conn and Derryth. ‘And whilst I am grateful for your intervention, I have yet to understand why Samria would send cows without discussion with the Healdend.’

Conn explained that he was a Marquis in both Samria AND Sytha, and he was taking cows to his demesne in Sytha. He didn’t want to be involved with negotiations. He didn’t mention Meshech as they seemed to accept that he was Samrian and that his men were from Sytha. Being mostly Rakians, Conn later discovered that his men looked a lot like the Pontians, but the Eaorl was not to know this as he didn’t get around much.

‘So you have two masters … that is highly unusual.’

Conn shifted the conversation back on path. ‘Where is your son now?’

‘He has set out to join the other ring bearers. Sherred il Kosala came and collected him and they headed east. I don’t know where but I presume for Vatsa.’

‘Ring bearers?’

‘Yes, Badb gave each Eaorl a ring that proved that you were the one eligible to be Healdend. She will choose from the sons of the Eaorls of Malla, Matya, Avanti, Kosala and Anga. Dylen il Vatsa is her cousin so is ineligible. No one else may bear the rings or become Healdend.’ He paused. ‘Unless...’

‘Unless…’ Conn hated the word “unless”.

‘Unless someone chooses to relinquish their ring to another kin of their house. If that is done, it is possible for that someone other than the sons of the Eaorls, to become a candidate. It has happened when a son was sickly. This time of course there are other complications…’

‘Just when it was getting simpler, it gets more complicated. Pray tell.’

‘The Wealdend had two daughters instead of one – twins – and there has long been dispute over who was born first. The midwife who was there to witness the birth died very soon after the birth – and so no one really knows… There are parties of support for either.’

‘And the Gyden. Surely she would know….’

‘We have not heard from the Gyden in over a hundred years. The Folgere left and have not returned. Even here in the countryside they have left their cirices.’

Conn left him to rest until dinner, where they joined him again to celebrate his survival with the bedda and their family. The Eaorl also had a herd of children, and Beowen sat and ate with them. The Eaorl had several bedda but Conn had yet to determine who Beowen’s mother was. The Merian girl that seemed to find him in the middle of the night was not amongst them at dinner.

In the morning, Derryth and Conn were asked to attend the Eaorl at breakfast as Conn had concluded his negotiation regarding cattle sales and was intending to depart mid-morning. The Eaorl was improving rapidly but still too weak to walk very far. He was however quite despondent. The Eaorl had one major problem that he needed to solve before he could let Conn leave. It was his life debt with Conn.

‘Marquis, I am on the horns of a dilemma. I have a life debt with you, and I wish to repay it but I do not know how as I do not have enough gold for the wergild of an Eaorl.’

Conn had spent considerable time the previous night trying to tell him not to worry about it – but it was like talking to a wall.

Derryth was no use; ‘A life debt is a life debt’ was all he would say.

The Eaorl continued. ‘But I have discovered a solution – albeit an unusual one.’ He turned and called out. “Cynilda, Beowen.’

To Conn’s further surprise, the woman from the midnight trysts came in with Beowen. They bowed to him.

‘This is Cynilda and her daughter Beowen. I am going to give them to you in payment of my debt. A life for a life.’

Conn was about to protest but the Eaorl waved him down. Conn heard Derryth splutter in his mead trying to control his laughter.

‘Cynilda is a theow. She is from Meria and they are great horse people so that should not be an issue. Beowen is our daughter.’

Conn turned and looked at Derryth. He shrugged, as the Eaorl continued.

‘As the child of a Merian theow, Beowen is also a theow and I cannot change that – it is some kind of Merian law. I also can’t separate her from her mother so it is two or none. I trust that the pair will not be a burden. Despite her situation, I do love my daughter and you look like a man with the means to offer her a greater life in Sytha than here in Larsa.  It is all very annoying but it is the best I can do. Are we agreed?’

It was futile to argue with him so Conn finally agreed. He also wanted to be on the road, if he wanted to stay ahead of the herd. He also knew immediately that the Gyden were playing with him again, and he told Derryth so later that day.

‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’ Derryth deadpanned, as they headed back toward the mountains. ‘Why do you not see it for what it is… you are in the middle of nowhere when you suddenly gain a child, who is admittedly somewhat unusual, and her mother who is a theow from another land, who is also unusual? I think that you read too much into these things. I mean, what can go wrong?’

‘The last time someone said “what can go wrong” twenty of the most important people were held as hostages for six weeks by crazed wiga before I was able to rescue them. You don’t fill me with confidence.’

‘You waited for six weeks? Doesn’t sound like you …’

Conn shook his head in memory. It was a lifetime ago. ‘I wasn’t actually following orders at the time.’

‘That sounds like you. Did they reward you anyway?’

‘They did give me a medal…’ Over twenty in fact. Some begrudgingly.

Derryth looked around at the very few men and two females that followed them with pack horses. Conn had left his two company of wiga behind to help with the cattle and instead proceeded with a smaller group – Ostoric and another Folctoga, equally old, from Matya, called Osbert, as well as six of his own wiga, Cynilda and her daughter Beowen.

‘So tell me again why we are heading to the mountains and not taking the road to Larsak?’

‘The assassination attempt on the son – I think someone is definitely trying to kill the ring bearers to eliminate competition.’

‘And what does it matter to us?’

The previous night Conn had also spoken to the Eaorl about his son’s situation. ‘The only person who he can think of as having more allegiance to the Ancuman than Larsa is the Marquis of Rasadi.’

‘Rasadi? Isn’t that the place that protects Larsa from Merians?’

‘It is. Odd coincidence don’t you think - given that Merians were involved in the assassination in Samria. Do you know what the other odd coincidence is?’

‘Since we are going the wrong way, I’ll assume that it has something to do with Kishdah.’

Conn nodded. ‘Indeed, the Marquis of Rasadi’s father is an Ancuman. And if the Axum are involved, I’m involved. Now, the Eaorl said that his son headed east but if people are trying to assassinate him you wouldn’t go to a big town, would you.’

‘Too many people, too many shadows.’

‘Exactly, but in these mountains, however, there are lots of small mountain villages serving miners and loggers. If the ring bearers are hiding, this is where they will be hiding. We need to find them.’

It was easier said than done as for all they knew, Conn could be an assassin. So they decided to stay out of the numerous villages along the way with their muddy floors and rancid waters. It was safer in the forest. He just need to see who was in them – without scaring them away.

Camping in the forest gave him a lot of opportunity to find out more about his new companions. Despite their previous interaction, Cynilda was mostly quiet; at night she was bossy; cooking and cleaning and telling everyone what to do; she insisted on taking over that role. Conn insisted on showing her how to cook “his way”, and she learnt quickly.

What Conn did discover was that the main business in Meria was theow; their demesne depended on theow workers and they traded around Sytha – mostly into Pontia and Sytha. Ships from Meria would bring theow into Larsa three times a year – captives from disputes within the country itself – as well as Pontia. Being theow was not an embarrassment to Cynilda.

Since departing, Beowen, on the other hand, had hardly stopped talking; she also rarely sat on her own horse; she either travelled with Conn or Derryth. She seemed much attached to the two Elfina.

During the days they scouted the many villages along the river. If it was unclear from outside, he’d send Osbert into town to buy food, and to check first hand. They weren’t there.

After three days, Conn and Derryth lay on a bank investigating the latest in the long line of villages, when Beowen appeared at their side.

‘Connor. What are you doing?’

Since she had discovered that his name was Connor she used it exclusively.

‘Derryth and I are seeing what is happening in that village down there. Would you like to have a look?’

She squeezed down between them and he handed her the telescope. It took her a few moments before she giggled.

‘This is fun. And I can see Eonoth’s horse. I don’t like that horse much.’

Suddenly interested, Conn asked if he could have a look and she showed him the horses in the livery yard. One was a dark brown mare.

‘And you are sure that is Eonoth’s?’

‘Yes. She doesn’t like me. She is scared of me.’

Conn gave her a kiss on the side of the head. ‘Thank you Beowen, you’ve been a great help.’

~oo0oo~

Some hours later, with the only activity in the village at the inn, Conn had his men surrounded it as he and Derryth headed for the door. It was a small village and it had a correspondingly small, damp and stuffy inn. Conn sent Derryth in first. He waited for the response.

‘A Twacuman? What is a Twacuman doing in Larsa?’

Derryth agreed. ‘A good question – I wish I knew the answer.’

As Conn joined him, people jumped to their feet, swords drawn. Conn was then joined by two of his wiga. Bows drawn. Everyone stood still.

‘Everyone,’ Conn directed, ‘stay calm and no one will die.’

Some rushed for the back door but then walked backwards into the room because of the two other bowmen.

A disbelieving voice called out. ‘Is this a robbery?’

‘No. Nothing like that.’ Conn picked a gold Ryal out of his pouch and tossed it to the barmaid. ‘A round of drinks for everyone, please. No, I’d like to speak to Eonoth il Matya.’

An older man stood up and addressed him. There were several of them sitting around tables, obviously nobles because most looked out of place in the decrepit bar.

‘So you are assassins? This is a very brazen attack. Do you intend to kill everyone here?’

‘No, nothing like that. I’d…’

He was interrupted by a small body pushing her way between him and Derryth. Beowen walked into the room and looked around.

Conn looked at Derryth disapprovingly. ‘You told me she was asleep.’

‘She was. Anyway, what am I – a babysitter? One Priecuman is hard enough to look after.’

Beowen called out. The room was foggy and dark. It was more a command.

‘Eonoth! Where are you?’

‘Beowen? Beowen – what are you doing here.’ A young man raced out of his seat in the shadows and lifted the little girl into his arms and hugged her. ‘I don’t understand…’

Cynilda then arrived, pushing her way through. Conn looked at Derryth and he looked back, joining him with a look of bewilderment.

‘Cynilda? You too? Are you all right? My father… my mother?’

‘We are fine, and your father is alive. Everyone is fine.’

‘My father is alive! How is that possible? He was dying as I left. It hurt so much to leave. ’

Cynilda pointed to Conn. ‘The Marquis cured him – he is a very good medic.’

‘Cured him?’

Conn interrupted the boy. ‘You must be Eonoth; my name is Conn, Marquis of Caledonia in Samria and Marquis of Rila in Sytha. I’m between demesnes as we speak.’ He pointed to Derryth. ‘This is Derryth of the Twacuman nation of Halani. It is a long and complicated story.’ Conn turned to the barman. ‘I’m still waiting for my drink…’

Eonoth was still hugging Beowen. ‘But why are Cynilda and Beowen with you and not at home?’

Cynilda answered. ‘He gave me away in payment of his life debt. A life for a life.’

‘My father gave Beowen away as well?’

‘Not my choosing, Eonoth’ Conn added, ‘but he insisted.’

Eonoth turned and looked directly at Conn. ‘She is my sister. She means a lot to me. Please take care of her.’

‘Like my own daughter.’

Conn then went to the bar and collected several beers. He handed one to Derryth and other to the older man who still stood standing in the middle of the room, confused. ‘Can you all please introduce yourselves?'

He introduced himself as Kadmah, Eaorl in Exile of Anga, his sons Cenric and Oswine, and the other young men as Eaghan il Malla and Sherred il Kosala.

‘So you are the ring bearers?’

Most nodded in surprise, and as way of explanation Conn explained that he had been talking to Eldhart il Matya.

One shook his head; Oswine the younger brother. ‘Not me – just my brother.’

Derryth looked curiously at the Eaorl. ‘How can you be an Eaorl in Exile?’

Kadmah smiled. ‘I broke one of the unbreakable rules – I declined the invitation to be Healdend when asked by the Wealdend Osfelda, and as a result she had to choose again – she chose Dylen il Vatsa, and he has been an excellent Healdend but he has always known that he was not the first choice… My punishment was banishment.’

‘But you have returned…’

‘Yes, I have been trading the coastline for many years but it is time for Cenric to be amongst the ring bearers, and as I have the right to be at the choosing, I have returned.’ He looked at both Conn and Derryth and his men. ‘I still don’t understand why a Twacuman and a Marquis from Samria are roaming our forests.’

‘Firstly, we were looking for you – and secondly there are not just us – I have over four hundred wiga heading to Vatsa.’

‘Four hundred – fully armed cavalry? In Larsa! Impossible. Our border patrols… ’ He turned and looked at Sherred. ‘Doesn’t your father watch the border?’

‘He does – but he took most of our wiga with him to Larsan because of the assassins. He has been patrolling the road after the attack on my life. Besides, we have had no issues with Samria for years so…’

Kadmah looked back. ‘I still don’t see how no one knows…’

Derryth confirmed it. By legend, a Twacuman never spoke an untruth. ‘What the Feorhhyrde said is the truth. He failed to mention the six hundred cavalry are escorting almost six thousand head of cattle.’

Kadmah almost choked in his beer. ‘Did you just call the Marquis
Feorhhyrde
?’

Derryth nodded and shrugged. Conn did the same.

Kadmah was beside himself. ‘You are the HEALDEND of ALL Twacuman?’

Conn looked at Derryth in mock surprise. ‘So that is what it means… I thought it meant advisor. It does sound like a much bigger job than I had in mind. Perhaps I should consider resigning…’

The Larsans didn’t quite know what to do with Conn’s comments so they just looked at him strangely.

Derryth fetched more beer and handed them out. ‘I don’t know why he is so worried about that for. I’d be more concerned with the six thousand head of cattle and all that cow poo – and the four hundred cavalry.’

It took a long while for the whole story to be told.

After a while the pieces started to fit together for Kadmah. ‘So it was you that defeated the Ancuman Fyrd. I visit Samal regularly and I heard of their expulsion from Samria. But that doesn’t explain why you are here looking for us?’

‘I heard that there have been some assassination attempts… and I thought I might be able to help.’ Beowen had left Eonoth and was now asleep on Conn’s shoulder. ‘Someone needs to go to bed so we’ll be back in the morning.’

~oo0oo~

With the agreement in place, Conn led his party out of the tavern and faded into the night and back to camp. Conn then stood sentry for a few hours until relieved by Derryth.  Cynilda had sat with him the whole time – silent but awake. Derryth pointed to her.

‘She still won’t go to bed?’

‘Nope – when I’m awake, she’s awake, seems to be the rule. The Merians have issues… ’

‘That is what I was afraid of.’

In the morning they rode across the river with their horses and Cynilda cooked them all breakfast – to everyone’s enjoyment. After breakfast they decided that it was safe enough, with Conn and his squad, to go to Vatsa and consult with the Eaorl. It was late when they arrived, and as the town was larger than all other villages they had been to so far, the streets were soon lined with people watching the strangers ride into town. Some things, like the Elfina and Twacuman, were things of yore and legend. Balios of all of them warmed to the attention. He pranced his way through town.

‘Has that horse no humility?’ Derryth was bemused at his antics. ‘He is less humble than you.’

‘No fair! Not even close; my confidence is simply misread.’

‘Misnamed more likely.’

Leaving their horses in the best inn in town, Kadmah escorted them to the largest roundhouse they had seen so far. It was also almost clean. Inside were dozens of people, including the Eaorl of Vatsa, Wulfwald. It was also full of theow, and a lot of them were Merian. Conn noticed that they looked curiously at Cynilda as she entered, and then there was recognition followed by whispering. Very curious behaviour. Something to investigate later.

Wulfwald, as the second son of his father, had gained the demesne when his elder brother became Healdend. He invited everyone to sit and offered mead – not very good mead – while food was brought out for them to eat.  Conn told his story again. Later, with the semi naked theow and all unnecessary donjon staff gone from the room, they got down to business.