The Bretwalda (The Casere Book 4) (15 page)

‘The same ones that told you that Larena was dying.’

‘Yes – and they say Twacuman never lie. I’m very disappointed.’

‘They don’t – unless told to do so by me.’

He started to laugh again but stopped when he looked in the faces of all the Twacuman servants in the room. They were all nodding. He turned to the oldest man in the room. ‘Holmbert, surely this is not true.’

Holmbert nodded, ‘It is true, Aebeling, he is Feorhhyrde.’

‘The Feorhhyrde? The Feorhhyrde is nothing but a myth. It was a story made up by the first Twacuman who arrived here nearly two thousand years ago to give themselves hope…’

‘It is a truth the Ancuman made into a myth – not because it is one, but because that is what they want you to believe. And if we all believe he is the Feorhhyrde that is who he is.’

‘What about the supposed medallion that people have been searching for for centuries. That doesn’t…’ He had turned back to look at Conn as he spoke and Conn had withdrawn the medallion to show him.

‘Dogs and horse flies, this is vexing.’ He turned back to Larena. ‘Aunt, it appears that I am your guest for the night. You had better have some decent wine – I’m going to need several bottles.’ To Conn he said, ‘For reasons I do not yet understand, I’m entrusting the lives of my bedda and children to you. I hope that trust is not mislaid.’

‘I hope so too.’ With that he mounted his stallion and headed out quickly. It was already past five and it was a two hour ride to the town. The ceremony would not happen until after eight but time was fleeting.

~oo0oo~

By the time they got to the outskirts of Himyar-jo, chaos was prevailing. The Himyar wiga were living up to their reputation; there were brawls in nearly every tavern and the Axum wiga were out in force trying to control them. No-one took special notice of the four extra riders; it was too much fun watching the Axum chase drunken men around and then suddenly disappear down some alley, never to be seen again. When the Axum started to cotton on to the concept that all was not well, they were suddenly in the middle of a huge brawl from which they didn’t escape.

Gunvi guided them up and down narrow lanes until they arrived at a small barn and stable. They put the horses inside the barn. It was full of people, sitting on the hay and grain. They were scared, frightened and very anxious.

Conn introduced himself and called them by name. ‘Welyn il Arum and Aslatha il Abdera? Are all your families here?’

They both nodded. They were terrified.

‘Good. Stay here. You are safe, and you are in no danger. I will return soon.’

Gunvi farewelled Conn and handed them over to one of the castle staff, a young man. They followed him up and around more lanes until everyone was lost.

‘When we leave’, Derryth offered, ‘we are going out the front gate. I feel like a thief.’

Their guide tapped on a small door, heavily bolted and secured, and after a few moments the door opened slightly and a face appeared. ‘Are they here?’

He nodded and the door swung open and they passed through. Their new guide led the way and the four of them passed along more lanes and alleys until they found a door to the castle proper. ‘I’ll hand you over to an inner house servant.’ He said as he tapped on another door.

When it opened, a girl appeared and waved them in. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘To the folgere. I believe they are about to start one of their initiation ceremonies. Derryth and Wilric will make sure no one comes in – but we’ll need help with the girls when they come out.’

‘I understand. We are prepared. But there are thirty folgere inside the hall – you are one man.’

‘Maybe, but he is one very annoyed man.’ Derryth responded. She looked at him, laughed, and smiled a beautiful smile at him.

By this time, they were near the main hall where the ceremony was going to be held. Wilric went to one side of the room and Derryth went to the other. The girl warned them as they left. ‘There are a few people looking for the Aebeling’s family too – they are all Axum wiga.’

Conn went to the door of the hall and pushed it slightly to see inside. Around the outside were briars flaring to provide light. The further he pushed the door, he saw more. In the centre of the room were about 100 young girls, having seen just sixteen summers, dressed in ceremonial black shifts and little else. They were crying, terrified, and huddledtogether. In a half arch facing the windows, were twenty bunks; prepared for the offerings tonight. The folgere themselves were dressed only in black loin cloths; most were chanting and wailing; the black stones around their necks flaring in the fire light; most seemed to be in some higher state of arousal and ecstasy already. Soon the moon would be up and the ceremony would begin – except tonight it wouldn’t.

Conn burst through the door; leaving his black cloak behind. He withdrew his two katana and opened his mind to Ashtoreth for a fraction of a second. That was a mistake – because the number of folgere in the room almost tipped the balance in their favour. It did however get their attention. Like madmen they raced to their swords and knives and the momentary kick from Ashtoreth got him his first nick; his gambeson had a cut mark all across the front.

It was always going to be a slaughter – in their state of ecstasy even the younger ones didn’t pause or consider their options; they attacked like madman with their flashing blades. One tried to drag a girl away to make an offering within the chaos but got a kunai in his back for his troubles. It surprisingly doesn’t take long to kill thirty people, Conn discovered, and for the first time in his life, when he was finished, he threw up.

He then went to the door and knocked. It opened, and a dozen people waited for him.

Conn couldn’t speak. He just pointed. Derryth handed him a large skin of wine.

‘I had it brought for you. I think you might need it.’

The girl with the beautiful smile had tears in her eyes as she looked at him. ‘Come with me – let’s find you a bath.’ She went and spoke to Derryth and then had a couple of servants to help her take Conn to a room where they prepared a bath. The males helped him strip out of his uniform covered in blood and stood guard as he entered the hot water. They kept him fully supplied with wine, and finally out of the bath and dressed, he passed out into a restless sleep on a mat they had prepared for him in the room.

He woke at first light with a huge hangover. The first person he saw was the girl with the beautiful smile. She had a plate of food for him. Beside her was Gunvi. Her eyes were full of concern. She introduced the girl as her cousin; her name was Elfrea. Conn ate the food and even had seconds. When Derryth turned up, Conn admonished him for providing inferior wine.

‘The quality was fine – it was the quantity. Anyway, what’s with the cut mark over the front of your gambeson – how did anyone get that close?’

Conn fingered the mark. ‘Error of judgement. I now know that thirty mad folgere have a collective mind stronger than mine. A lesson learned. I’m not going to live this down, am I?’

Derryth smiled. ‘We are even – don’t mention Aeaea…’

‘Okay. A deal.’ Conn stood up. He looked at the two girls that watched him closely. ‘What clan are you?’ he asked suddenly.

‘The ninth. We descend from the Casere who was also the Marquis of Kerch. Is that the Torc of the Casere around your neck?’

Conn fingered the gold band. It was normally hidden under his clothing. ‘It is.’

‘Then you are as a father to us. We are your family.’

He sighed. ‘I was afraid of that. More children. Come; let’s get ready for the Aebeling. Is he back yet?’

‘No, but soon. His family are all back in the castle and they wait for him.’

As they walked out Derryth asked Elfrea how many there were in the ninth clan. He had a big grin on his face.

‘Perhaps five hundred. Why do you ask?’

‘I already know the names of the Feorhhyrde’s children – just wanted to know how many extra I need to remember.’

‘Very funny.’ was all that Conn could add, as they went to the main hall and waited. Luckily Derryth had organized coffee.

Kolbert soon turned up and told him that the town was secure – his troops had every Axum wiga still alive under guard – many had died. The Himyar troops were recovering – a lot had bruises and heavy heads, but there were no losses. Kolbert then recited all his adventures to the bemused Aebeling’s family – Conn would have sworn he personally captured every single Axum wiga himself.

At around ten, the Aebeling walked in with Larena, and found his family waiting for him. Svenben was visibly relieved and hugged his children. After a moment Svenben turned to Conn and thanked him. Conn then introduced him to Kolbert. They had never met. Svenben was astounded to see him there.

‘I am honoured that the Aebeling of Saba is sitting in my castle for the first time in three hundred years, but I am embarrassed that I am not able to welcome you properly. We should have a feast but I have not made arrangements.’

Kolbert waved away his concerns. ‘I believe that the Marquis has organized it for you.’

Svenben looked to his staff who stood along the walls. One nodded.

‘This is all too incredible for words. I wish I knew what was going on.’

‘I’d try and explain it to you, but’, Kolbert offered, ‘I’d just confuse us both. Most days I have no idea. It has been very exciting though. Most fun I’ve had in years. Anyway, shall we go and eat? I’m starving.’

They headed next door into the great hall where they sat down to a feast. Larena was soon joined by the girl Kasdis who sat down excitedly at her side. After a while she interrupted Kolbert as he continued to tell stories.

‘Aebeling, Kasdis tells me that she is now bedda to the Aebeling of Saba.’

‘How on earth…’

Svenben looked at Kolbert who sheepishly nodded. ‘Slight misunderstanding in Agath…’

‘She seduced you and the Jarl made you take her?’

Kolbert nodded.

Svenben burst into laughter. ‘That is how he ended up with her!’ He turned to Kasdis. ‘How many men have you been bedda to now?’

‘Umm… four?’

‘How many children?’

‘None.’ She didn’t look sad about that. She then brightened. ‘But I’m hoping that the Aebeling of Saba has seed that works with me.’

‘Somehow I doubt that.’ He then turned back to Conn. ‘Anyway, back to the original question, what are you doing here? I haven’t really understood anything Saba has said.’

The explanation took some time. It took longer than it should have as Kolbert had to interrupt a lot. They were then interrupted by the mothers of the hundred girls who didn’t have their ‘initiation’ the previous night – who were assured by Conn that they would never have to.

‘I think I finally understand things. So what next?’

‘I suggest we travel around your demesne getting rid of the folgere and Axum wiga – we’ll just have to start marching and they will flee. Then as soon as Farrun gets here, we move on.’

‘Farrun?’

‘My son. He is on a different mission and is to meet me here. He should be here in about fifteen days.’ Conn paused, ‘Speaking of which, Aebeling, who is your heir?’

There was a pause before the Aebeling answered. ‘I do not have one. My eldest son – Welyn’s son – died last winter. I have a brother Karon but his mother is Larena and is impure as she is a theow.’

‘Larena is a theow?’

‘Larena is not a theow anymore – she was released on my father’s death. But she was theow when she had Karon – as Aslatha is now. The only theow who can have legitimate children are those of Axum blood – like Welyn’s children.’

‘I don’t see your problem. That was then; this is now. As far as I am concerned – as is common amongst both Priecuman and Twacuman societies, there is no such thing as illegitimate. And by next summer, there will not even be a Bretwalda. I have Eldarr, the son of the Aebeling in Makuria in my fyrd, and it is very likely that he will be Aebeling after his father.’

Conn scanned the room. There was a sudden change in temperature with the mention of changing the rules of inheritance. Some were happy while others were sad. The saddest was Welyn whose daughter had lost her inheritance. ‘Of course,’ Conn continued, ‘I would also suggest that you seek to find another bedda from Arum for your son. Welyn, do you know of anyone that might be suitable?’

Welyn was shocked at the question as it was directed at her and she blushed. ‘I … I … I believe that my brother has a daughter to a theow from the Southern Isles – with my master’s leave I will investigate…’

‘I’m also aware that the future Jarl of Sinjar in Saba, Sigvir, has yet to take bedda. Perhaps I also can investigate that as well – perhaps it may be possible for all your daughters to be the primary bedda of Jarls.’

The Bretwalda’s policies in the Southern Isles had robbed the Aebelings of their historical blood through their bedda rules, but despite that, they remained loyal to their titles and their demesne. That being said, their daughters of their Axum bedda, Conn had discovered, were not popular bedda in the Southern Isles – and certainly not as primary bedda. It seemed that if they wanted to stay in the lands of their birth, they had to lower their expectations to wiga, farmers or merchants. If they returned to Axum, they were still considered inferior, and had no better prospects. Being bedda to an Aebeling had proven to be a poison chalice.