The Marquis (38 page)

‘Five hundred Twacuman wiga – impossible.’

Conn retrieved his medallion. ‘Did Lile not tell you I am the Feorhhyrde?’

He looked at her and she shook her head.

‘Feorhhyrde? You
have
the medallion given to Osstan?’ He looked to Derryth and Wilric. They both nodded. ‘Just when I thought I knew what was happening…’

Cynilda came and whispered in Conn’s ear. He looked curiously at her and she nodded. He mouthed a “really” and she nodded again.

Taking a deep breath, and looking towards Cynilda who nodded again, he addressed Tredian. ‘Healdend, I understand that all of this is a shock to you. To compensate, I have a gift for you.’ As he spoke Fritilda, his youngest theow not of Blood, walked up and smiled at the Healdend. Short, she made up for it in voluptuousness. However, as Derryth had previously noted, there wasn’t a single women in Conn’s hird that had a small bust. He personally didn’t see the fascination. Twacuman women were all small in comparison.

‘This is Fritilda il Meria. She is a theow as all Merian women are. She has requested that I give her to you.’

The Healdend brightened immediately. ‘I always wanted to have a Merian theow as a bedda.’

Lile reproached him. ‘Father!  That is another reason why we are in this mess. You wanted an Ancuman bedda!.’

‘Yes I did, didn’t I? I was looking forward to that. Not an unreasonable request – the Marquis has an Ancuman theow, doesn’t he? I’m a Healdend, I should have one too. Anyway, thank you Marquis, you have turned a testing day into one of endless possibility.’

As they walked out Lile looked behind her as he father sat talking to and fondling Fritilda. ‘My father is a silly man. I hope she fornicates him to death.’

‘Knowing Fritilda as I do, there is a definite possibility.’

~oo0oo~

A couple of days after his arrival, the Healdend’s son return from patrol in the mountains above Siris and Bamos. He came to see Conn in his roundhouse. Lile introduced him as her half-brother; she was the eldest and him the second.  

His name was Eomon and he came with three young men – Godwah, Eaorl of Waliwa, and the sons of the Eaorls of Felsini and Runisi. Eomon was late twenties while the Eaorls were around twenty. Conn suspected that all had another reason to want to pay their respects to the Marquis of Rila – they would have another occasion with make the acquaintance of Alana. She seemed indifferent to them all – pleasant but indifferent.

Eomon had a separate mission. He wanted also to make the acquaintance of Hallvi and Wilric of Iladion.

In meetings with the Healdend, who was now looking tired, they discuss the cause of the problem with Iladion and why the Pontians had access to Rila. Eowen had come with a separate question.

‘I have been checking the old treaties. There is another that I was wondering if it was going to be revived?’ 

Derryth and Conn looked at each other in confusion. Wilric had no idea either. Hallvi did.

‘It is not for me to say – neither of us are the heir – it is our nephew and he certainly is young enough. It is something that needs to be determined by the Aebeling. I see no reason why it cannot.’

After they had left, Conn asked what it was all about.

‘When the Casere claimed the forest for the Twacuman, he made an agreement with the Sythans who were their neighbours. The agreement was that a girl would be given to the heir of the respective nations as bedda, whenever appropriate. It would seem that Eomon would like a Twacuman bedda.’

~oo0oo~

In the week that followed Conn contemplated his next steps. The journey to Rila which he intended to do as soon as he could was another forty days on horseback and “everyone” had declined. That was compounded by the problem that three of them were pregnant. His seed seemed to be working again. Oselda il Malla was pregnant – as was Reilda il Kucha – and Alreda, his last Merian theow who wasn’t of Blood.  None of them wanted to ride. He thus had to wait for ships. Sir Njil did turn up but he had a cargo bound for Samriak and Conn urged that he go and take Hallvi, Wilric and Alana with him. He could return with more ships. They could leave soon after.

A day after they had left, and after a training session with the wiga, Conn asked Derryth if he fancied a trip.

‘A trip – where to?’

‘Iladion.’

‘You want to go to Iladion without Hallvi and Wilric.’

‘I do, I think we need to go alone.’

Derryth shrugged. ‘Seems a silly idea to me, but if you say so.’ He stopped to look at Conn. ‘This hasn’t been discussed –you are not going to tell anyone are you?’

‘I was going to leave a note.’

‘Coward – but a good idea. I don’t enjoy being yelled at either. And this is definitely not my fault.’

‘I’ve organized space on one of the small junks to take us to Rila.’

‘When do we leave?’

‘Tonight –you can’t keep secrets.’

It was midnight when they met on the docks with the two Elfina, and by the time the sun rose they were well on their way. Twelve days later they arrived in Rila. Conn instructed the Captain to wait for their return. Collecting a couple of pack horses, they saddled up and headed for the mountains.

Less than a week later they travelled along the edge of the forest that designated the border with Iladion for two days before they found what they wanted.

‘How many?’

‘Just the two.’

‘I think so – how many do you think are there?’

‘Just two – but if we are wrong we could get killed.’

‘We are never wrong, Derryth. You take the one on the right, I’ll take the one on the left.’

‘They are Twacuman you know – what makes you think that you can get the one on the left before he gets you?’

‘Just because – and it’s a she. Didn’t you know that? Are you sure you can get the one on the right. He is a younger Twacuman.’

‘Of course I can – but I was just worried about you hurting yourself.’

Their camp was far enough away from the edge of the forest not to be intruding, but close enough to be unusual. When they could, they left to camp site unseen, but it was slow and hard – expert against expert. It took hours before they had found and then had their quarry within range; and little by little they crept in until it was too late. It was indeed a girl that Conn was stalking. From the darkness, he could tell that she knew that something was wrong; she just couldn’t pick it out – until the point of Conn’s sword touched the back of her neck. She went rock still.

Conn whispered. ‘Now don’t move suddenly – you will just endanger yourself. I know every move you think you can make and most will end up with you dead or seriously wounded – not because I want to do that but to stop you doing what you will do has no safe outcomes. It is best if you put your hands behind your back and stay alive. No harm will come to you if you do that. You have my word.’

Conn sensed her every thought and he could tell that she realized the inevitable. Sighing but still without a word, she placed both wrists behind her back and Conn tied them up. He then whistled a single note that sounded just like a common green jay and he waited. Moments later, it was returned, and Conn helped the girl stand and headed out of the forest to his camp. She was young, perhaps thirty; still a teen for Twacuman. As they walked, he was joined by Derryth with a similarly aged young man in front of him. ‘You took your time’.

‘I had further to travel – and this young fellow kept moving. He is fairly well trained.’

The young man shrugged in disappointment. ‘But we still got caught – by Priecuman; which is very embarrassing. My grandfather will laugh at me.’

They marched them into camp and they sat them down. Derryth stoked the fire and they then saw him for what he was. ‘You are not Priecuman. You are a Twacuman! But where are you from?’

‘Meshech.’

‘Meshech? That is impossible.’

Derryth sighed. ‘If it is impossible, how come I am here?’ He was starting to get Conn’s sense of humour.

They had no answer for that and then looked at Conn. ‘I do not recognize you at all – you are neither Ancuman nor Priecuman. How is that possible?’

The boy looked at the girl. ‘Cousin, I think we have forgotten the lessons of our grandfather. Did he not say that the Casere was a man that was neither Ancuman nor Priecuman? Perhaps he is like him?’

The girl nodded. ‘But that is not possible.’

‘There we go again.’ Derryth said, ‘’two impossible things in one night’.

The sun was rising as they were speaking and Conn was preparing breakfast. Having cooked bacon and eggs and toasted the sourdough, he piled it on a plate and handed it to the boy. Without thinking he reached for the plate – exposing the fact that he had been able to undo his ties.

‘See, I told you that he would be able to get out of your knots. You should tie them the way that I showed you.’ Conn bragged.

‘You have got to be joking – she has been out of her restraints for ten minutes before the boy.’

Surprised, the girl smiled and brought her hands around to the front. Conn handed her a plate. ‘Oh well; at least they are as not as quick as me yet.’

He handed Derryth the last plate and a large mug of coffee and they ate breakfast as the two observed them curiously. Conn didn’t give the youngsters any coffee but curiosity got to them.

‘Sir, what are you drinking? The smell is very interesting.’

‘This is called coffee. But you are not having any. It has a very bad effect on Twacuman.’

‘The Wothbora is drinking it…’

‘My point exactly. And he doesn’t stop. Anyway, I should introduce myself. I am the Marquis of Rila and the Marquis of Kerch.’

‘That’s impossible!’

Conn looked at Derryth. ‘Should I show them the medallion?’

‘It might shut them up. Typical young people – they make a lot of noise.’

Instead Conn whistled and soon Balios and the other colt trotted up. The stallion trotted over and then went to the girl and asked for his head to be rubbed. He almost went weak at the knees when she rubbed his head.

‘Balios, go away.’ Conn instructed ‘That’s embarrassing. You’re a grown horse. Go and find the horses that belong to these two. ’

Giving Conn an annoyed look he turned around and headed for the forest.

‘He’s beautiful. And he’s an Elfina. But that’s…’

‘Impossible?’ Derryth finished the sentence for her. ‘I know…’

Conn retrieved the medallion from under his sheep skin coat, and showed it to the girl and then the boy.

'Feorhhyrde! That makes sense now. But how...'

After they had reconciled to the impossibility of everything, Conn asked where their grandfather was being held prisoner.

'How do you know about that?'

'Hallvi and Wilric are in Sytha at the moment, and they told us. We rescued them from the Ancuman.'

‘So why are they not here?’

‘They are otherwise engaged – on a ship. I decided that I couldn’t wait for them.’

It took a while for it all to sink in but they answered eventually.

'He is in a village over the mountain in Kashgar.'

'Can you take us there?'

'Of course. But it is about six days from here.'

Balios had returned with their horses and they were quickly packed and on the road and into the mountain. The tight binding of trees and shrubs made passage almost impossible if you didn’t know the path. The boy’s name was Ceolrys and he was Hallvi and Wilric’s nephew. He rode in front of Derryth and sat facing backwards, plying the Wothbora with questions of all their adventures, all of which Derryth tried to answer. Derryth had to tell him to be quite after a while. Freyotta was the girl. She started where he left off. She was so pretty he couldn’t tell her to be quiet.

~oo0oo~

A couple of days into the forest, they were camped for the night. Ceolrys said that they had four days to the Priecuman village in Kapisi.

‘So where is your village?’

‘Four days south of here. We rarely visit this part of Iladion except to patrol – and we are the patrol.’

‘I see.’ Conn and Derryth were cleaning and polishing their bows as they sat around the small campfire; it gave off heat but very little light. It was a special roman style stove assembled from five flat pieces of iron and embedded into the ground, it allowed easy cooking and good heat but didn’t show you off to the world.

With that Conn and Derryth notched their bows and in a single action let fly with and arrow into the forest.

Freyotta was startled. ‘What did you do that for? There is nothing out there.’

Ten Twacuman wiga melting out of the forest; two of them sheepishly handed back the arrows that had very nearly impaled their arms. Ceolrys jumped up and greeted one with a hug.

Conn stood and faced him. ‘You must be Eolyn. This is Derryth il Halani and I am Conn il Taransay. I’d like your help getting your grandfather out of his prison.’

The two youngsters did a lot of explaining before they got back on topic. Eolyn was confused.

‘Grandfather said that we are not to rescue him. I am unable to go against his word.’

Conn looked at Derryth. ‘Don’t I outrank an Aebeling?’

‘Yes – but you outrank Caewyn too. Is that working out?’

Conn took the necklace from around his neck and handed it to Eolyn, who held it for a moment and then handed it back. ‘Very well, what do you want us to do?’

In the morning they headed out for the four day ride to the small village that was the prison for the Iladion Aebeling. It was first light as they sat overlooking the village; part of it was built like a stockade; timber palisades with timber corner guard posts and a gatehouse. Inside were five roundhouses while the Inn and stables were outside. Eolyn told them where the Aebeling was and Conn had a plan. He gathered everyone around.

‘Derryth, Freyotta and I will go to the front gate. Eolyn, send five bowmen each side to cover us; silence any wiga; Ancuman permanently; keep the Priecuman pinned down and only kill if you have to.’

He nodded and they melted into the forest; some would be climbing the very tall trees around the village to get a line of sight over the fort.

Freyotta looked at them with curiosity. ‘What do you need me for?’

‘To create a diversion.’

A few minutes later, Freyotta, her hair out and her pretty face on display walked up to the front gate with two “old” men behind her, barely visible under their travel coats and a huge bag of ‘something” tied to their backs. Each carried a bamboo staff.

‘Halt!’ The Pontian wiga called out. ‘What do you think you are doing? Where did you even come from? Today is not a visiting day. You know the rules.’

She smiled. ‘I’m sorry kind sir, but I have been sent with green vegetables for you all – just collected – and also my grandfather. This winter is going to be very cold so it is important to eat your vegetables to stay healthy.’

She smiled again.

‘I hate vegetables’, one answered, ‘if the Gyden wanted me to eat anything green, I’d have been born a cow.’ He walked towards the two “servants”. ‘Okay, show us what you got there.’ He turned back to Freyotta, a lewd grin on his face. ‘And sweetheart, if you want to earn a little coin, you can show us what you got under that coa…’

He didn’t get to finish the sentence as Conn’s staff exploded on to his gonads and Conn’s right hand impacted with his chin. He was out cold in the fetal position on the ground; as did the other guard. They all ducked then under cover of the gatehouse and waited. Within a minute their absence was noted and wiga raced out to look – unfortunately, for them, running into the staffs. 

The gate now open, Conn and Derryth run inside the fort and heading to the one roundhouse that had guards. The two on the door turned to enter but dropped with arrows in their backs. Grandfather was safe. They both ducked around the side of the building as arrows missed them by a foot.

Derryth shook his head; ‘I told you this was a bad idea.’

‘Attacking is rarely a good idea but sometimes you have little choice.’ They both discarded their coats and retrieved their bows. The sounds of bodies falling had stopped but the sound of orders and men running around continued. ‘Guard the door. I’m going around the other side. I’m going to force them out.’

‘Now that is a worse idea.’

As Conn ran around the building, he started firing, and three men fell as others were flushed out and fell to arrows from Derryth or Freyotta. When he was seen, two Ancuman wiga raced for him with their swords held high. Dropping his bow Conn withdrew his two swords and engaged. The twirling action distracted any remaining bowmen and that distraction allowed Twacuman to drop down beside them over the palisades and caused them to surrender. The battle in the yard was not going well for the Ancuman – one was already dead while the last was now fruitlessly defending against the two swords. As he crumbled to the ground, other Pontians called out – ‘We surrender! We surrender!”

Conn instructed them to come out with their hands held high as the yard was filled with Twacuman wiga, and their captives. There were over thirty prisoners. Conn had Eolyn posted guards before he and Derryth followed him inside the roundhouse.

An old man, an ancient man, sat cross legged on cushions near the flames of a fire in the centre of a room. He looked up at Eolyn with curiosity.

‘Grandson. I was not expecting you – today is not a visiting day – and I was not expecting that people would be dying. The trees are most distressed.’

‘Grandfather, I am sorry. You have a visitor – the Feorhhyrde, and Derryth il Meshech, Wothbora of the fifth clan.’

‘The Feorhhyrde?’ his voice was still strong, though it sounded old. ‘That is a surprise. Let me look at you.’

He studied Conn for a while as he sat in the light of the fire.

The old man nodded and continued. ‘I am Leoric; I am the descendant of the Casere – he who lived over a thousand years ago. He was the first Priecuman to be Feorhhyrde. You are three winters late.’