The Marquis (16 page)

Two things actually – the first was an arrow striking Conn in the chest; in what should have been a killer blow. What happened of course was that it bounced off the chain mail that covered the gambeson under his Sherwani. However, the attacker didn’t know this and impressed with his killer shot stuck his head and chest out too far to see the consequences – and he immediately felt the thud of Derryth’s arrow in his neck, and he crumbled to the floor. With his death, his assistant and last assassin stood to run and escape but fell as arrows thudded into his back and front.

The room went silent then shrill as people screamed and scattered. Wiga sealed the exits while others raced to protect the guests, putting their bodies on the line. Conn went to Derryth with a complaint.

‘I thought you said he would be over there,’ pointing to a different pillar.

‘Well, I said he might – I wasn’t really sure where he would come out; there are lots of entry points. I just guessed the wrong one. Anyway, don’t blame me – it was your silly idea.’

Kadmah was listening to the exchange as they walked for the stairs. ‘You knew this was going to happen? What if he went for a head shot?’

‘There are only two people I know good enough to take a head shot at that distance – and he isn’t one of them.’

‘I presume that’s you two?’

Derryth nodded unashamedly. They arrived at the body of Vigulfur il Axum on the balcony. Dying, he looked at Conn, ‘You … still … live. How …?’

Conn opened his Sherwani to expose the chain mail. ‘But you die – a fair swap, I think.’

He died soon after and the body was removed and festivities resumed as there was no danger anymore. There was a different tone now – the two girls had recovered and gleamed with happiness. Piegi, the lesser looking but far more voluptuous one, and the one who had been seduced by Vigulfur into thinking she should be Wealdend, had a smile of her face for the first time.

Once Conn and everyone had sat down again, Egilda stood to speak to everyone. The room went quiet.

‘Thanks to the Marquis of Caledonia and Badb, we now know our place in the order of things. Badb has a role for us as he predicted. Piegi will become the Folgere of Badb’s Cirice.  I will now choose who will be Healdend by my side.’

This caused uproar amongst the Eaorls but Egilda calmed them. ‘It will not matter how long we take to decide the answer. It will always be as it is now – it is as Badb knows.’ She looked to her father and mother. ‘Badb would have told you not to choose Kadmah. Somehow, it was he that was listening so he said no – but that was Badb’s wishes. You made the right choice the second time.’

She smiled and walked in front of the assembled Ring-bearers. ‘Badb has told me what she knows to be the best choice for me.’ She stopped in the middle of them all and very bravely spoke loud enough for all to hear. ‘Cenric, son of Kadmah, Eaorl of Anga, I choose you to be Healdend of Larsa. Will you accept my offer?’

Cenric who until recently had thought himself the son of a merchant sailor who didn’t know anyone or anything, was dumbfounded. He didn’t answer until one of the other sons elbowed him. Shaking he stood, cleared his throat and answered.

‘Umm, Egilda, daughter of Dylen il Vatsa, Healdend of Larsa, I humbly accept your gracious offer.’

Despite some who complained about the truncated selection process, the other Ring-bearers ultimately didn’t seem too concerned. They certainly appreciated the flock of young women who now rushed to make their acquaintance. There was always next time.

Dylen and Osfelda came and thanked Conn and Derryth and apologized for the Marquis of Rasadi. Geirnarr, when Conn spoke to him later – he was at the feast as a guest of her cousin, claimed no knowledge of his plans. He apologized for the disrespect shown to his kinsmen.

He later asked Conn what he was going to do with him and his men. They were all under guard.

‘Geirnarr, I guess I’m going to have to let you go – again.’

‘I appreciate the courtesy.’

‘I’m sure. But you really should go home this time. Your luck is going to run out.’

He smiled. ‘Perhaps I am hoping that yours will first.’

A long feast followed and a late morning found them all back together in the hall to have lunch; and to listen to even more long speeches.  Later, a special sitting of the Witan was held with Conn and Derryth as special guests. It was then that they started to understand the ramifications of the events of the previous night.

The first business was to arrange for the transfer of power to the new Healdend. It typically happened within weeks of the feast.

Conn interrupted. He stood up and excused himself. ‘I would like to make a suggestion.’

‘Please proceed Marquis, anyone may speak at a Larsan Witan.’

‘I would like to suggest that Cenric and Egilda be allowed to go to Meshech for a year. Cenric has seen very little of the world outside of small fishing villages. Both would benefit from seeing other ways. I can guarantee their safety.’

Egilda and Cenric’s faces immediately lit up.

‘That is far over the sea. But how would they get there?’

‘I have taken the liberty of organizing one of my ships to visit here within days. It is twice the size of any Ancuman or Larsan vessel, and it has my best captain.’

Conn had Njil standing by in Caledonia just in case he needed him. He had sent some pigeons soon after arrival, requesting his attendance. He also needed more pigeons.

‘But will they be safe? Did you not become beached in Samria?’

Conn grimaced inside. ‘That was an aberration I can assure you. As for Cenric and Egilda, they also have Badb’s protection. They are as safe as anyone can be.’

They reluctantly agreed, though not too reluctantly, that the transfer of authority to the new Wealdend and Healdend would occur in three years’ time. It would allow them plenty of time to learn in Meshech.

With that matter settled, the Healdend stood to speak. ‘There are other matters that relate to the Marquis of Caledonia. A member of the Witan of Larsa have attempted to murder a guest of Larsa in our own donjon and the consequences of such dishonour have been with us since the beginning of time. He has already paid half the price – death. The other half is his denunciation and the confiscation of everything that was his.’

‘Seems fair enough.’ Derryth commented as an aside to Conn. ‘It is a serious crime.’

The Healdend was still speaking. ‘And the granting of everything he owned to the person he tried to murder.’

Derryth groaned. ‘I did not see that coming. Who wrote these rules?’

A court official passed a piece of parchment to the Healdend. ‘Accordingly, the Marquis of Caledonia is entitled to the demesne of the March of Rasadi, extensive properties here in the township of Larsa, as well as a number of theow. He was also the holder, as given to him by this document,’ he waved around another piece of parchment ‘of the right to be the Ring Bearer of Avanti. Because of his treachery and the fact that he died as the ring bearer, he is in no position to reverse that grant given to him as might well have been the intention.’

Derryth laughed. “Now I really have something to tell my grandchildren. Feorhhyrde, one day I’d like to see you enter someone else’s room and leave without rearranging the furniture. Really I would.’

‘It is not my fault – truly it isn’t. These things just happen to me.’

The Wealdend addressed him:

‘Does the Marquis of Caledonia accept the burden of the March of Rasadi, its lands and its people, and to discharge his duties with honour and diligence?’

Conn did so and then took the oath of allegiance. Given his special situation, he added on a clause that said he would never be party to any action that was to the detriment of the people of Larsa.

Later, he thought he should ask questions. ‘And what should I know about the March?’

‘The Eaorl of Avanti is the best to explain but it faces the sea and has a border with Meria. It was created to protect Samria from Meria – we have lost scores of people over these recent years to the slavers, though it has been quiet of late.’

‘Sounds simple enough. I’ll look forward to visiting.’

He had to give a stern look at Derryth when he almost choked on his beer.

Conn added to these gains by negotiating a trade agreement to allow his ships and people to trade with Larsa; non-exclusively, he left it for others to negotiate their own deals.

‘How will we know which are your ships.’

‘Not too hard; they have brown sails and a sun device on the sail.’ Conn sent for one of the surcoats. His wiga had not been using his Taransay surcoat of brown with the large golden sun; instead they had been wearing a plain grey surcoat over their chain-mail with the device of Caledonia – a ship’s wheel in brown. Inside the wheel was Conn’s sun device.

The Taransay design caused some bewilderment when it was shown; mainly because it seemed to share a lot in common with the emblem of the Casere; which was also a sun – but a more realistic sun device on a field of nettle green.

Later, as they were to leave, he was directed by the Healdend to a group of three women sitting at the back of the room.

‘Marquis, those three are the theow that belonged to Vigulfur and now belong to you. They await you.’

‘I see.’ It was clear from their dress that the girls were all from Meria – all fairly young and over exposed in their haltered choli and pants. He took the three girls back to his rooms and introduced them to Cynilda – who took the news surprisingly well. Too well, it seemed. Very soon it looked like Cynilda had her own theow as they did her bidding without complaint. They were happy to follow Conn’s bidding later that night, when they came to help him bathe with even less clothing on.

~oo0oo~

Over the next weeks Conn investigated his new properties and considered his dozen new employees. The former Marquis seemed to have had his finger in a few pies around town, which suited Conn very well. He managed to sell property he didn’t need to gain others he did, and ended up with an inn on the docks and a number of shops and warehouses. He then set his people to work renovating. By the time Sir Njil arrived in Larsa, Conn had somewhere to unload the goods he had brought, somewhere to sell them, as well as a renovated dock to tie up his large vessel.

A lot of people arrived to watch the schooner arrive in the harbour; including the Eaorls and their families. Kadmah was amongst those that stood looking at the ship with awe.

‘That is a magnificent vessel. I can’t wait to see it under full sail.’

‘Why don’t you go with your son when he leaves? Doesn’t your Steward already take care of your demesne?’

‘He does – he is my brother. He had been managing it for me for years. I am loathe to go home and interfere.’

‘In that case, I will speak to Commodore Njil about arranging for you to have your own ship in my fleet. We always need good people.’

‘I would be honoured. The ship I have is only suited to coastal travel.’

‘Also, I understand you breed oxen in your demesne – I think you should go and look at some of mine… just for comparison purposes. If you like them, I think you could make your first trip one of bringing a few over.’

Njil had arrived with two additional ships, junks, loaded with even more merchandise than Conn had intended; all sent from Atrak. Njil had made the judgment that it was wasted in Samria so had them tag along with him.

In the search of something for the ships to take away, Conn had filled a warehouse with bales of wool and sheepskins – the Larsans had a lot of wool and it was ridiculously cheap as a result. Although the quality wasn’t as fine as his flocks in Meshech, it would more than adequate for the production of rugs and blankets. They also had timber – and large quantities of timber was already piled on the docks for loading; the forests were full of species that seemed very familiar to him including plants such as Logwood, Cutch, Sapanwood, Black Oaks, Turpentine as well as the Oaks, Cedars and Pines. A veritable feast of timbers lay available for harvest – hundreds of years older than his plantations in Meshech.

He insisted that Geirnarr fill up his ship with wool this time.

‘Did you not make money last time?’

The Aebeling was forced to agree.

‘You will again. Also, we wouldn’t want your cover to be blown, would we?

Inside the donjon, the Wealdend had taken charge of the ‘restorations’ and she had also sent scores of workers to clean and repair the Cirice. Piegi, the new Folgere, closely supervised the work building her accommodation within the grounds.

  When Njil departed two weeks later his hold was full of wool and timber and his cabins full of people – he had Kadmah, Cenric, Egilda and ten others – as well as Beowen on board. He was to head direct to Ilissus, and to deliver Beowen to Moana. Conn had discussed it with Badb and she agreed as well.

Taking a five year old away from her mother seemed harsh and getting her mother’s approval seemed impossible but he was mistaken.

Cynilda agreed immediately. ‘Yes, of course. If that’s what you think is best.’

Conn held his hands up. ‘Now – this is not a master and theow thing. I’m asking for your permission.’

‘I understand. But it is fine, really. Beowen told me already that she was going on the big ship.’

‘I haven’t mentioned it to her…’

Cynilda shook her head. ‘It wasn’t you. She said grandma told her.’

When he questioned Badb she ignored him. She did that sometimes. She was more attentive when he had a message that Piegi had requested that he come and see her at the Cirice. The walls had been renovated and cleaned, and the stone building was gleaming. He found her in the cella inside the Cirice.

‘Marquis; I thank you for coming. I have not had a chance to thank you privately for what you have done for me. Perhaps you can allow me that opportunity now. There is much I need to know about serving my Gyden.’ She brought her hand up to the straps of her fine silk chiton. Conn had sent her one, complimentary, from the new supplies. ‘I am not a stranger to fornicating with men – I have lacked the virtue and patience shown by my sister in these matters and I now know why. I was swayed by Vigulfur because he had attributes that I found most enjoyable. I now longer have to pretend to be something that I am not.’ The priceless gown fell to the floor. ‘Badb tells me that she finds you very enjoyable and I can hardly wait to learn why.’

~oo0oo~

The herd of cattle had long before continued their path towards Sytha. Conn conceded that he was not destined to get to Sytha this year after all. His wiga had left Larsan as soon as the castle was declared safe, and Sir Brys had left soon after Sir Njil had arrived to replenish his medical and logistic supplies – things not readily available such as arrows, rice and pigeons.

‘You are not going to be very popular when you arrive.’ Brys stated unhelpfully, as they sat in his new inn on the docks having a farewell drink.

‘It seems to be an occupational hazard. However, Caledonia is quite close to Rasadi by ship, and I’ve sent for backup from there and depending on the situation in Rasadi, I’ll leave for Sytha late autumn by road or even by ship in winter. The Eaorl of Malla tells me that there is a road between Rasadi and his town – perfectly trafficable by horses.’ Malla was the last stop in Larsa before you entered the highlands.

Brys left Conn with a company of thirty wiga and when Njil departed for Meshech, he sent the two junks to Sytha with wool and messages for the Healdend. From Njil’s crew, Conn selected a person to become his representative in Larsa. Leowahl il Pelva just happened to be on boat as his Lieutenant. Sebbi’s nephew, he had served with distinction in the Rakian War, but as a result of a wound was unable to continue to serve in the Sagittari so had taken to the sea.

Conn introduced him as his comprador in Larsa, and explained his background as a wiga and his pedigree as the grandson of the Eaorl of Pelva.

‘Comprador – we have not heard that title before.’

‘It is fairly new’, Conn didn’t say that it was the first time he’d used it, ‘and as nations start to interact via trade, we need to have a formal way to deal with any issues that arise. He will be stationed on the wharf. Also, if you need to pass a message to me, please send for him.’

‘And what standing does the Comprador have?’

Conn thought quickly. ‘Above a Thane but below a Marquis or Eaorl.’

As well as giving him the responsibility of all his staff and his businesses, Cynilda insisted that Conn give him two of the three Merian theow he had “inherited”.