The Marquis (14 page)

Conn had learnt that the town of Larsa was situated on a peninsula that jutted a long way out to sea, and that most of the housing was on the peninsula. There was only one way in which made protecting the entrance relatively simple – but that didn’t stop people getting across by boat.

As they got closer to the town, Derryth surveyed the large donjon, perched on a hill surrounded by strong stone walls. The donjon, like the walls, was stone. Its sophistication belied the simplicity of the civilization that surrounded and supported it.

‘Nice castle’, he commented quietly to Conn, ‘Shouldn’t be too hard to protect. What is out should be able to be kept out.’

‘If we can trust what is inside. An apple rots from the core.’

It was just after midday when they were outside the stone walls, and they left their horses with the wiga, as Kadmah escorted them into the castle. They waited at the front gatehouse where The Eaorl of Vatsa came to collect them. He was surprised to find that they had the Marquis of Rasadi as a prisoner, and he urged them to release the Folctoga. The Marquis stormed off to complain about his treatment, with Geirnarr by his side.

Conn looked at Wulfwald. ‘Have you put additional security into place?’

They were walking through the grounds to the donjon. ‘What I can. The Town Guard is very low on numbers. Recruiting and training had been let go. Something about finances.’

‘So the Healdend is happy for us to fill in.’

He nodded. ‘It took some convincing but Egilda insisted.’

They walked into the large hall, which was packed to the brim with curious people.

Dylen and Osfelda, joint rulers of Larsa, waited for them on the thrones that sat in the front of the hall. Conn walked up and bowed. He introduced himself and his party – with special emphasis on Derryth il Halani.

They both bowed to Derryth. ‘We are honoured that a representative of the Twacuman graces our ancient halls.’ To Conn they looked bit more confused. ‘We thank the Marquis of Caledonia in Samria for his assistance. We understand that the lives of the ring bearers have been at risk and are now safe because of his actions. We hear that cousin Eldhart il Kosala is also deeply indebted to you for his life.’

‘I do what I can.’ Conn looked around.

‘Though there are some that are not so happy with your actions.’ The Folctoga stood to one side. He still looked unhappy.

‘You can’t please everyone.’

Osfelda smiled broadly. ‘That is true. We are none the less grateful as the ninth day after the solstice is tomorrow. The Eaorl of Vatsa assured us that you would arrive in time, but we were concerned. You have travelled hard for many days – we will meet again at dinner time. Rooms have been made available for your use inside the walls.’

They were shown to their quarters and Conn spent the afternoon looking at security inside the walls and assigning his men to positions. He didn’t have enough men. Overtime the sanctity of the castle had been breached with doorways cut into most sides and most corners. Entire sections had been dismantled and replaced with inferior walls and gatehouses.

By mid-afternoon, Cynilda and Beowen arrived, and they helped him prepared for the feast. Conn dressed in his formal officer’s uniform with black tunic and four gold stars on the collar.

They then went to the hall to meet with the Wealdend and her family again. Osfelda met them at the doorway.

‘Marquis, I have arranged for you to sit at the main table with us tonight. We have much to discuss and there are many that wish to meet you. It is not every day that a Marquis from Samria visits these halls. I’m also led to believe that you are in fact from a different land altogether, called Meshech. Cousin Geirnarr tells me you are very famous there.’

‘Fame is a dangerous weapon…’

The voice of the Gyden Badb filled Conn’s head. Since his arrival he felt that something was amiss – their Cirice was silent, even though it was here, somewhere nearby. ‘I was wondering where you were,’ Conn replied in his head.

As he spoke to her Osfelda spun to look at him – and the look on her face was pure astonishment. ‘You don’t talk to your Wealdend?’ he asked Badb innocently.

‘It seems that they don’t need guidance.’

At that point, four women in the room fainted; Osfelda, her mother, and her two daughters. Pandemonium resulted.

Derryth stood at his side. ‘Well, that is not something you see every day. What did you do this time?’

‘It wasn’t me – it was Badb – she spoke to me. She hasn’t spoken to them ever – until now. I don’t know what happened either because there are no Folgere in Larsan. It didn’t happen at lunchtime either.’

Conn stopped and looked at Derryth, and they both turned around and looked at Beowen as she walked behind him with her mother. She had a big smile on her face, though they weren’t sure why.

‘Surely not?’

‘She is special…’ Derryth took a big breath and closed his eyes. ‘Of course… why didn’t I see it before?’

‘See what?’

‘I didn’t recognize that Beowen is probably a Sacerd.’

A Sacerd. Conn knew the term because Moana was a Sacerd, and he remembered vividly when a Gyden had turned her into one. It was also a Sacerd that had stolen a heart-stone and hidden it in Piada.

The last time that he had been with her, she gave him a gift. He had been admiring the gemstone as it lay between her small but pert breasts.

‘It looks smaller...’ It had once been green and when she changed it changed too. It was probably clear but depending on which way you looked at it, it was a different colour.

‘It is. One day it broke into two and I have to reform it back into a haligdom. In fact one is now two.’ She reached over and picked up a small leather pouch.  She gave it to Conn. ‘This is for you. Perhaps it is for you.’

‘It is for someone?’

‘Of course – it wouldn’t break by accident.’

‘Who then?’

‘How am I to know – there have only been two Sacerds in the history of Meshech. Now where were we? You seemed to have recovered…’ 

Conn was brought back to the present when Osfelda called him over. She introduced her mother and her daughters. They were recovering, sipping wine. They were all very flushed. Having a Gyden fill your head with her presence – and her lust – for the first time was taxing.

‘What happened? Why was my – our – heads and minds attacked.’

Conn smiled wryly.  ‘That was Badb. Do you not have a Cirice or Folgere?’

‘Not for a very long time. When the last Healdend died with only a daughter, the Folgere were banished, even though the Cirice is maintained and treasured. It seems that the first Wealdend did not want to share the Healdend with females so wonton. The Folgere have reportedly very carnal appetites.’

‘It is not them – it is the Gyden. They read your souls when you are in the throes of ecstasy. It is how they keep in touch.’

‘Uncivilized!’ This came from her mother.

Conn shrugged. ‘To be civilized is relative. To have an economy based as the hard work of theow who are bought and sold like cattle, is considered by some to be uncivilized.’

Her mother was not used to being rebuked, and Osfelda almost smiled at her mother’s discomfort.

‘But how is it that you can communicate with her? Are you a male Folgere like those from Axum?  I have met them and I did not like them at all. They wanted to establish a Cirice here but I would not allow it. They wanted me to close Badb’s Cirice as well. Their presence made me want to throw up.’

‘That is better than my response – I generally want to run my sword through them. No, I am not Folgere, but I also know Badb because she is the Gyden of Silekia in Meshech and I am an Eaorl on Silekia. We communicate directly in Meshech.’

Conn lied a little, or a lot, but didn’t have an alternative. He heard Badb chuckle in the back of his mind.

Conn spent the rest of the evening explaining and telling stories, before retiring for the night. It was an extremely well-designed ancient donjon and they were provided with rooms just outside the main hall and stone walls. Timber buildings had been built around three sides of the stone donjon. When he arrived, Cynilda was waiting for him as usual. The room was sparse but it was dry and relatively vermin free. The grass filled mattresses seemed comfortable enough.

‘Is Beowen okay’ He asked as he stripped off his armour, and then washed in the tub of hot water that Cynilda had prepared for him.

She nodded. ‘She is with her father.’ Conn had heard that Eldhart had arrived.

‘Good.’ As he wrestled with the small tub, he shook his head. ‘Do they not have bathhouses?’

She shook her head. ‘No – Larsans wash from buckets. At least they have hot water.’

Cleaner but not clean, Conn went and sat on his bed. He watched as Cynilda stripped and joined him.

‘Master?’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you think it will be as much fun in a bed – and not against a tree, in long grass, or in a loft somewhere?’

‘It will certainly be slower…’

~oo0oo~

Conn was up by midnight after a couple of hours sleep. He made Cynilda stay in bed, and went outside to find Derryth waiting for him. Derryth handed him a mug of coffee. ‘Anything happening?’

‘Not yet – but it is still too dark. Without lanterns they would not make it to shore. I am led to believe that the shore is fairly well protected by rocks. Are you sure it is tonight?’

‘Has to be. Vigulfur had to know that the Ring-bearers were on their way and it needs to be done soon – just in case enough of them survive the forest. He also hasn’t been out of the donjon to stop the plans.’

The dawn was still some time away but it would be light enough soon to navigate a way in from the ocean. ‘Where is Vigulfur?’ Conn asked.

‘We don’t know. The men sent to watch him say that he is in his room – he took one of the theow girls in with him for the night but she left an hour ago. I think she wouldn’t leave if he was still there.’

‘I agree – so he is in the wind. Geirnarr?’

‘He had two theow girls with him. They haven’t left and there is still sounds coming from the room. He seems fairly energetic.’

Conn laughed. ‘I’m sure he will make sure that he is not even closely involved tonight. Let’s go and see what we can find.’

Kadmah and the Ring-bearers were waiting in the central guard house and reported their findings before returning to patrol. The top of the guard house was the highest point in the donjon, and Conn climbed the ladders to investigate. A few minutes later he was down at the bottom of the tower.

Derryth waited with a dozen men. ‘Well?’

‘We go west.’

Guards at the gates let them out the castle into the outer bailey and then out into the town itself. A thousand yards later, they arrived at the waterfront. Here, perhaps a thousand years ago, men had built a strong wall; perhaps a sea wall, and that wall was now exposed to the sea and an excellent dock remained.

‘Search for boats that have been used recently’ Conn instructed. Within ten minutes, the boats were discovered; eight small dinghy hiding behind a larger vessel; water marks were still evident high on the side of the boards.

‘There are about twenty men. From here we can track them inside.’ Derryth and Conn headed to the houses and picked up the trail of the group.

‘They have split up into two groups.’

Conn did the same; Kadmah leading the second group east, and he headed off while Conn continued to follow the other group. Very soon they had indications that the group had divided again but Conn paused this time.  Something was wrong. He indicated to Derryth to go left. In front of them was a roadway; wide enough for carts to travel to the wharf.  Derryth returned in a few minutes.

‘Sentries. Two of them; in the livery and between those two houses.’

‘I’ll take the livery.’ Conn unsheathed his bow and fitted an arrow while Derryth did the same. He called Cenric.

‘I want you to walk out there – head directly to that bush. Can you act drunk – I want you to go and pee on it.’

Cenric was a little shocked. ‘Out there – with people and bows aimed my way.’

‘Think of the stories you can tell if you are Healdend.’

‘Indeed.’ He stood up, took a deep breath and pushed off one wall; stumbled a bit and continued to walk out into the road, tripping and stumbling. As expected, two heads popped up from across the road. But it was all they needed. The ‘thud, thud’ of two arrows into heads and the slumping of the bodies were the next sounds. Conn raced out and across the road.

‘Eight to go.’

They followed the trail to the south west gate – and as they arrived at the guard post, four wiga lay dead on the ground; and the door behind them ajar. Conn stopped and peered in – two more wiga lay dead on the ground and there were three Ancuman assassins guarding the exit route – but they were looking the other way.

‘How many?’ Derryth asked.

‘Three.’

‘So you’ll be fine by yourself?’

‘Of course.’

Derryth pushed the door wide open as Conn raced through with a forward tumble roll; as he came upright he had his longsword in hand and engaged the three Ancuman in what turned out to be ashort but lethal bout.

Conn nodded as the squad came through the doorway, ‘Five to go.’

They heard the alarm bells ring out, and soon the bailey was swarming with troops. The Healdend also arrived with his personal guard. He saw the dead men – including his own.

‘How did they get in?’

‘Not for me to say, but I think they were let in.’ Kadmah and Eldhart also arrived and he brought him up to date on what had happened.

Kadmah’s adversaries hadn’t been so lucky. The gate they expected to enter easily had been quickly reinforced by Eldhart and his wiga, and caught in the cross fire they had all died.  ‘So fifteen are dead. Where will the five be?’

Conn looked at the Healdend. ‘Your daughters are protected?’

‘Yes; we tripled the guard last night at your request.’

‘Then we can assume that Vigulfur knew this and has changed his plans – he really had no choice about that. I’d say they are now very well hidden, and it will almost be impossible to find them. We will have to wait for them. Now, while we do that, do you know a good goldsmith?’

Bemused by the question, the Healdend got one of his staff to escort Conn and Derryth out of the castle to the goldsmith. It was still not quite dawn, and they banged on the door until he appeared.  A few moments later, Conn told him what he needed and that he had to have it done today. Initially hesitant, the several gold Ryals that Conn handed him changed his mind.

Derryth waited outside and they walked down to the docks together; revisiting the morning’s escapades. The bodies had been collected and were being disposed of. The ship that they had travelled in left no clues.

‘It seems to be a suicide mission – they have very little chance of surviving. That is a strange way to fight.’

Conn nodded. ‘But effective. Fear is a very powerful weapon – and if you have someone that is prepared to die like that – with no chance of survival, you are one step ahead of your enemy.’

Conn then asked for the location of the Cirice, and after asking the oldest people they knew, they found it – not on a hill, as this was now a flat peninsula, but behind rows of houses and a high stone wall.

‘She is certainly well hidden.’

The door was well hidden, and barred with a large lock.

‘This is ridiculous’. It didn’t however take Conn long to pick the lock and gain entry.

The Cirice was intact but dusty. It looked like it hadn’t been touched for over two hundred years. ‘It could do with a clean.’ Derryth offered as he coughed at the dust that floated in the air as they entered the cella. Unlike Meshech, here there was only one idol – a very naked and voluptuous Badb.

‘Not sharing this Cirice with anyone are you, Badb?’ Conn expected her to respond but she didn’t. Everything was dusty and covered with soot – even the idol. As he looked closer, the outstretched hand was blacker that the rest of the idol and on closer inspection he could see why. The hand had been coated in a black resin – someone had poured the resin over the hand to prevent the emerald from shining, or being seen.

‘I thought the Wealdend said the Cirice was treasured.’

Conn pulled his Kunai from belt and set to work. It took half an hour to get the gemstone uncovered. As soon as it was done the hum returned – but with no Folgere, there was no voice.

‘So how did she speak to you in the donjon?’

‘Has to be Beowen. But she is a little girl. She doesn’t have the range of a full grown and initiated Folgere. I don’t know that she even knows she is in communication with Badb.’

~oo0oo~

Returning to the castle they sought out food – it had been a very long night and a hard morning, and they sat and ate and watched Cynilda boss around all the donjon staff.

‘I don’t understand Priecuman very well’ Derryth mused, ‘but normally I would think that having a stranger come in and take over was not considered acceptable. Why do they not seem to mind?’

‘She only bosses around other Merians … I think we are not being told everything.’

They also had a chance to study the building they were in. It was a very well designed donjon – the walls were straight and high and the technology involved in the load bearing pillars was advanced.

‘Derryth, where does this donjon remind you of?’

He looked around. ‘Atrak maybe ... but half as grand?’

‘I agree – it is very much like the design of Atrak and Oxmon. Samriak is a copy and a poor one at that. – it is a good design except for the lack of sanitation …’ Conn trailed off.

‘What is the matter?’

‘That is the point – whoever built this donjon had to understand plumbing – so where is it?’ Conn stood. ‘We need to look around.’

He sent someone to fetch Egilda.

Despite the summons, she came happily, surrounded as she was by guards.

‘Marquis, how can I be of assistance?’

‘I have a request; I was wondering if you could give us a tour of this donjon?’