The Aebeling (36 page)

Read The Aebeling Online

Authors: Michael O'Neill

BOOK: The Aebeling
2.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘So,’ the Healdend paused and surveyed his court, ‘the Aebeling will finally return to Moetia’.

The room was about to burst into clapping when Conn stood and spoke again. ‘Well not necessarily, Healdend; there will be a nomination from Lykia.’

The court went suddenly silent; and the Healdend looked to Conn. ‘Just a moment ago you suggested that I was unwarranted to be suspicious, Thane. So who is going to nominate themselves against the wishes of the Witan?’

‘It is my understanding that anyone can nominate; even without the approval of the Witan. They just need to be approved by you.’ Conn had been reading the agreement in fine detail.

The Healdend looked to his advisors who nodded their heads in agreement. Annoyed, he looked back at Conn. ‘And who is it that wishes to nominate himself as suitor? Is it you, Thane?’

Conn looked to Daray and the boy stood, and stepped forward confidently.

‘Healdend, it is I that wishes to nominate myself as a suitor.’ He bowed to the Healdend and to his daughter; and her surprise was obvious, as she he had barely looked his way all evening. All eyes had been on Conn or Allowena.

‘And who are you?’ the Healdend asked, somewhat exasperatedly.

Daray bowed. ‘My name is Daray il Erbil, younger brother of Eanfrid, Eaorl of Erbil. I am currently Kaptain of the Lykian Fyrd.’

The Healdend smiled curiously. ‘What is a Kaptain?’

Conn stood again and explained how the Lykian Fyrd had been reorganized.’

‘I presume this is your doing Thane?’

Conn nodded and the Healdend took a deep sigh. ‘This is going to be a long day. Proceed.’

Daray collected a parcel from the bench behind his chair and returned to face the Healdend. The parcel was a long thin object wrapped in a silk scarf. He carried the object to a servant, who took it to the Healdend.

‘This is a gift to show my genuine and honorable intent.’

The Healdend carefully unwrapped the parcel; the disposal of the scarf caused a tug of war between the two hands that grabbed it first; his daughter and the youngest of one of his bedda. The bedda won. The Healdend now had in his hand a finely crafted Katana in a scabbard; the handle of which was inlaid with gemstones. He slowly withdrew the sword from the scabbard; the highly polished blade glittering in the fire and candle light.

He shook his head in awe as he balanced the sword in his hand.

‘I do not know if I have ever seen a finer blade. It pains me to think that an object of such beauty is so very lethal. ‘

Returning the sword to his scabbard, the Healdend returned to his seat, placing the sword on his lap.

‘Who is the master craeftiga that created this blade? I will have his name to honor the sword.’

Conn stepped forward again. ‘That would be me, Healdend.’

Driscol laughed, ‘Surely you jest, Thane. Are you already not thane, wiga and merchant? Are you also craeftiga?’

Conn explained, ‘I have yet to find a blade-smith in Meshech sufficiently capable of making a sword of this quality – yet – so I made this one myself.’

The Healdend went silent and nodded. ‘That being the case, Thane, then you are indeed a master craeftiga.’ He looked back again at Daray, ‘Young man, before I give my blessing for you to court my daughter, I think you need to tell us more about your family. I remember meeting your father many years ago, but...’

Daray recited his genealogy, the names of the three Eaorls in Lykia that were his grandparents, his connection to the Aebeling of Lykiak, and surprising Conn, the name of his great grandfather who was an Eaorl in Moetia. Daray went on to describe his training and education with Conn over the last three years, including his winter with the Twacuman. The Healdend interrupted.

‘You would have me believe that you have spent an entire winter in Halani? That is not possible; they have not allowed visitors for over three hundred years.’ And as he laughed the court laughed as well, some in ridicule and others following the lead of the Healdend.

Daray didn’t flinch. He placed his hands around his neck and took off the medallion that he had been given by Brina. He took it to one of the servants to be passed to the Healdend. The servant did as directed, and as Driscol picked it up, his smile disappeared, and the laughter in the room also stopped.

He placed the necklace back on the tray and directed it to be returned to Daray. The court was shocked at his next words.

‘I apologize for not believing you, Daray, but you are indeed a friend to the Twacuman. I have a medallion much the same – given to my great-great-grandfather.’

The Healdend never apologized.

‘May I ask how it is that you came to be invited to winter with the Twacuman?’

Conn stepped forward yet again. ‘That would be me again, Healdend. I asked the Aebeling Brina and she agreed. I felt that there was much he could learn from the Twacuman.’

Driscol shook his head in frustration; and asked, almost with reluctance. ‘I’m suddenly afraid to ask – but I presume that you have a medallion as well, Thane?’

‘I do,’ Conn released the medallion from his neck, handed it to a servant.

This time the shock on reading the medallion literally drained the blood from Driscol’s face, though he quickly regained his composure. He took a deep breath and an entire mug of wine, before continuing.

All he could do was nod. He directed that the medallion be handed back, and asked Daray to conclude his history. Once he had finished, Driscol was silent before speaking.

‘Daray il Lykia; you have presented me with a gift beyond comparison and I find your family is of sufficient status to justify your nomination. If my daughter will accept a gift from you, I will allow you to be a suitor.’

As was customary, the court clapped. The first hurdle had been cleared. Now the next; Daray returned to his chair and collected a second wrapped parcel and instead of handing it to a servant, he took it himself, bowing as he handed it over. He moved back to address the Hall.

‘Healdend, Cliona, what I have today is just part of my offering. I will present the other half tomorrow morning if you agree.’

Cliona unwrapped the parcel enclosed in a priceless silk square richly embroided. Inside was clothing, made size perfect for her. Conn’s agents had spent a considerable amount of time getting her size right. It was a riding outfit; a silk embroided tunic with full sleeves and a subtle but very feminine spoon neckline, a silk choli as an undershirt, a pair of woolen blend jodhpurs in black, and a pair of polished leather boots made of the finest goatskin from Halani. Cliona almost squealed with excitement, her face flushed; the outfit was worth a fortune. Cliona spoke, in a hushed, excited but sweet voice, ‘This alone is a magnificent gift – may I ask what the other half is?’

‘Of course, Cliona, it is a horse, one of the best from the farms of the Thane of Hama.’

In a most unladylike fashion, Cliona’s jaw dropped. Horses from Hama were considered to be the best in Meshech – and ridiculously expensive. Conn’s breeding program was into its second generation of crosses; the black filly was three quarters Taransay bred, one quarter Meshechian. As it was, there were only twenty Hama horses sold a year outside of Lykia – all geldings. Conn kept the numbers down as his Silekians needed them first. For Cliona to have a Hama horse – a mare – would be special indeed. She looked to her father, tears in her eyes. ‘I will accept the Folctoga’s gift.’

Throughout the exchange, the Healdend had begun to look more and more concerned. Despite that, in response to Cliona’s acceptance, he announced that Daray was now an official suitor to Cliona. He added, ‘Tomorrow we will accept nominations from others who wish to be considered as suitors. It does concern me that no one in Moetia will be able to equal the gifts that Daray has offered, and I’d expect you not to try – because you can’t really succeed. It seems that none of us have the resources to match the Thane of Hama so proceed as you normally would.’ With that he declared that the feast was to begin.

No sooner had Conn turned to follow Finghin than a servant came to request that he join the Healdend at the main table. Finghin then escorted Allowena and Daray to a table where they were joined by Aerlene and a host of people who rushed over to make the acquaintance of both young people.

Driscol introduced Conn to his family and then enquired of his time with the Twacuman. Despite being Healdend, he explained that he had not been in touch with Halani during his reign; but he did know that his when his grandfather was a child he had met Brina soon after she became Aebeling.

Conn explained how he had rescued her granddaughter from slavers. Conn didn’t mention Piada or Silekia, as he was not asked. The discussion also gave Conn opportunity to offer to fix the roof.

‘You can fix it?’ He was no longer really surprised.

Conn nodded. ‘I have the craeftiga who can – but I will need to send for them.’

‘Our craeftiga make repairs but it never lasts. But if your people can, I’d be very grateful.’

Before they had a chance to speak further, they were interrupted by several Eaorls who came to be introduced to the Lykian Thane. There were nine Eaorls in Moetia – but only one domain was held by a member of the Healdend’s family; and that was Bricriu, Eaorl of Batra, who was his cousin. Conn also learnt that the Eaorl of Farah was related to Aerlene. They both descended from an Eaorl of Susa – and it was he who expected the domain to be given to his second son. Aerlene had told him that her mother was the daughter of a Thane in Susa, and granddaughter of the Eaorl of Susa; and she became bedda to the aged Eaorl to see if they could keep the domain in the family, but she was unable to have a child.

Conn also met those that who would be candidates for Cliona’s hand, and one in particular paid her a lot of attention. His name was Arlen, and he was the second son of the Eaorl Bricriu; so also her cousin, albeit distant. It was fairly clear that he was the Healdend’s favored candidate. Arlen spent a lot of time talking to Cliona, but yet she seemed to spend a lot of her time looking towards Daray.

Daray had successful positioned himself so that he could glance towards Cliona; but also stay focused on the other guests at his table. Both he and Allowena were inundated by well-wishers of both genders; they seemed to spend a lot of time fondling her clothes.

Conn finally escaped the Eaorls and found Aerlene; who despite the lesser quality of her clothing was definitely ravishing in her low cut choli.

‘Well, well, well, you are a surprise package, aren’t you?’ She greeted him as he turned up. She was with Cliona’s mother whom she introduced.

‘I only do what I think is right’, Conn answered smiling. ‘Daray will be a fine Aebeling.’

‘I will leave that judgment to you. Doneele tells me that Cliona has yet to develop a favorite amongst those that are going to nominate, so in that regard you are lucky. I think, however, you have made an excellent start – you have impressed us all. Arlen is looking worried.’

Cliona’s mother was Doneele il Nobah. She agreed. ‘Daray is a indeed a fine looking young man.’ She turned her attention to Conn. ‘I had heard of you, Conn il Taransay, in some intimate detail.’

‘Really – I am surprised.’ Conn had yet to touch a single female in Moetia.

‘I have a cousin – Ranait il Dahae – she passed through on her way to visit her family. She seemed to have fond memories of you.’

‘I’m flattered. Is she still there?

‘No – did you not hear? This very last winter we had the sickness and many did not survive. She was one of the unlucky ones.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. I would have liked to see her again.’ Conn changed the subject. ‘What can you tell me about the Eaorl of Menia?’

Conn had met the Eaorl and his son previously, but they now sat talking animatedly with Daray and Allowena.

‘The Eaorl of Menia has a very large domain in the far north of Moetia. Menia is a poor but it is proud family with a noble heritage – they are the oldest surviving in Moetia. His eldest son is twenty five, and I know he plans to be a suitor, despite being the eldest child and heir to the domain. He has waited this long without taking bedda to be able to stake a claim.’

Doneele continued. ‘And it seems that he is cousin to your boy – which is a great surprise. I remember a story about the daughter of the Eaorl of Menia who eloped with the son of a Lykian Eaorl – apparently the son was travelling by boat and met her when he visited Menia’s port. They never knew what happened to her, but it seems her descendant is here today. The circle is closed, and now your boy has strong allies.’

The Burhgerefa was sounding the bell for the end of the feast, and they stood while the Healdend and his family left the room. The guests started to leave, and as she left, Aerlene whispered that she would indeed visit him later at the Inn, and he should stay up – if he understood what she meant.

Conn joined Daray and Allowena outside and they returned to the Inn in the cabs. A great crowd of people watched them leave the keep, dry and clean. Tomorrow an agent of Conn’s would be seeking permission of the Healdend to start a “taxi” service in Lykiak. As inducement was the free sample cab that the agent would offer the Healdend.

Neither of the youngsters spoke much as they were overwhelmed; Daray had been surrounded by young women who declared themselves happy to be his rebound choice, and who were even prepared to be his second bedda – if Cliona did indeed choose him. They would be happy to wait until Cliona had her first son or second child as was the custom.

Allowena had so much attention from both boys and girls that she was still blushing from the compliments and endless fondling she had received. Conn sent them to bed; they were sure to have a restless night. Conn sat in the Inn with Wuffa when a figure in a black cloak arrived at his table. It was Aerlene and she nodded to Wuffa, who stood and left, bowing respectfully.

Aerlene leant forward, peering out of the hood, ‘There are some things I really need to discuss with you – urgently, in private.’ she whispered.

‘Perhaps we should retire to my room then, so that no one can hear.’ Conn said with a smile. He followed her up the stairs and into his room. Inside she turned and dropped the cloak. She was naked underneath, her full figure clearly visible in the candle light.

Other books

Maverick Marshall by Nelson Nye
Eagle's Honour by Rosemary Sutcliff
Claimed & Seduced by Shelley Munro
Disrobed for Death by Sylvia Rochester
Fireborn by Keri Arthur
VIABLE by R. A. Hakok
Shades of Murder by Ann Granger
Time of My Life by Allison Winn Scotch
Naked Justice by William Bernhardt