The Marquis (18 page)

‘What does the “head” look like?’

‘You will know it when you see it.’

She left and Conn considered her ‘instructions’.

A couple of days later they saw smoke in the distance and Conn, having quickly dressed in armour, went to join Derryth and Guntor as they waited, mounted, in the bailey. Balios stomped his feet – it seemed he was looking forward to the battle. The mares no longer wanted anything to do with him so he was fully energized. Derryth and the dozen Alwa riders added to twenty of his was all he had for cavalry. His scouts had indicated that force soon to arrive was several hundred.

They left via a back gate and rode along the water front for some time before circling around and climbing a hilltop that overlooked the town and the invading forces.

‘So let me get this right.’ Guntor complained. ‘You are going to charge a force four times our size? Tell me again how you are still alive?’

‘Yes – I apparently need to find the ‘head’ and cut it off. But he is going to be reasonably protected.’

‘All you want is for us all to stay close and cover you?’

Conn confirmed his instructions.

Guntor shrugged. ‘Easy money – I’d almost be embarrassed to take it from you. Almost.’

They rode quietly as Conn surveyed the battle field. They now waited in the shade of the expansive forest around the port. By midday the first of the Merians arrived in sight of the walls and curiously dismounted and waited. By mid-afternoon it was clear why, several hundred more Merians had arrived to gather for the attack. On the sound of a horn they yelled and screamed and raced to attack.

Almost immediately, from within the town, the catapults started releasing their loads and his bowmen – locals as well as twenty from Caledonia – started firing. The leading attackers died and not surprisingly the Merians called a retreat, and then regrouped to discuss the unexpected turn of events. The catapults weren’t there a month earlier, having arrived from Caledonia. Using his telescope Conn decided that he knew who was the “head” of the horde, and kicked the stallion into gear, releasing the reins. The Elfina didn’t need steering. The rest followed.

They started slow to conserve energy, Conn in the lead and Derryth to the left. The Sabans were further on the left and his Rakian troop on his right. As soon as they were seen by the massed Merians, they turned to face them and perhaps thinking that they sufficiently outnumbered Conn’s cavalry, charged back.

An erroneous move in a day of miscalculations. As soon as Conn and Derryth hit Meshechian bow range, he and his men started firing, and their accuracy brought down scores of men before the men of Alwa had even started to fire – many dying before they had a chance to swing a sword. Quickly in contact range, Conn drew his sword and set a beeline for the leader. Their horses clashed and Conn had ridden past before the Merian realized that, after Conn parried his stroke with his shield, Conn’s katana has sliced him from navel to spine. His last image was his intestines falling from the saddle, and him following them.

Cynilda was right. As soon as he hit the ground the attack ceased – those that could scatter, turned and headed back towards Meria, in a mass retreat. Conn called a halt.

Guntor fumed. ‘Are you insane? We can ride them down; slaughter the lot of them. Our horses are better, faster and our sword arm stronger. Let me go and I will bring you their heads. Every one of them.’

‘No. We do not kill people in the back. Ever. Let them go.’

Guntor was about to argue again when Conn held up his palms as a signal to stop.

‘A pointless death is of no benefit to anyone.’

The Ancuman stopped in his tracks, and looked at him in confusion. ‘Those words are famous in Saba. I was just surprised to hear them.’

‘I believe that someone called Geirfrith said that.’

‘Indeed. How do you know of him?’

‘He is mentioned in several histories in Meshech. I thought he was banned in Kishdah.’

Guntor smiled. ‘There are two kinds of banned – banned by Axum and banned by all Ancuman. Geirfrith is banned by the Axum even though he was Axum.’

They were surveying the battle field as Conn’s wiga, with support arriving from the village, rounded up the dead and the wounded.

‘I understand that he was responsible for the subjugation of the Southern Isles by the Axum, and yet you read his words.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, irony itself. But our leaders still exist because of the way he defeated our wiga and the agreements he created after he had defeated them. We have not thrived, but we have survived. And we live to fight another day. Our gratitude was not replicated by the Axum Healdend who expected nothing less than the extermination of the Healdend of the Southern Isles.’

‘Hence his assassination.’

‘Indeed.’ Guntor took a deep breath. ‘Marquis. Thank you for reminding me that I am not Axum. Sometimes I forget that we are Saba. Saba wiga would not kill men in the back either. Our Healdend, if we had one, would be very disappointed.’

The battle field was clear of the living within the hour, and those that could ride were sent away, patched. Conn wasn’t interested in prisoners, though the seriously injured were taken into the village to recover. They could go home when they could ride.

Cynilda rode out to see him.

‘Did you see any women?’ she asked.

‘No – but I wasn’t really looking for them. Why?’

‘There are usually women riding with the wiga in the fyrd. A Merian thing. I just wondered if you had seen any.’ She rode away.

‘Is it just me,’ Derryth posed, ‘or do you think she not telling us everything?’

‘I know she is not telling us everything. She is leaving out lots of important bits too.’

~oo0oo~

Conn found out more, less than two hours later. Guntor had led his wiga on a scout of the countryside to determine that everyone was on their way home. He arrived back with prisoners – three women.

Conn looked at him curiously. The women looked dishevelled, as they were taken off the back of horses and placed on the ground. They bowed, and smiled, at him.

‘They have not been touched.’ Guntor protested. ‘I gather you would see that as poor behaviour – as, I remember, did Geirfrith. They had no horses and were trying to make their way back on foot – a futile effort.  So against my initial thought of just raping and leaving them to die, I brought them back to you.’ He smiled broadly. ‘They have been speaking continuously. I didn’t even hit them – though I was sorely tempted. I thinking it is only fitting for you to have them.’

Conn had no idea what he was meaning until they had all arrived in the bailey and most of the wiga had headed back to the livery and the women were standing clear in front of the roundhouse. Conn heard Cynilda’s voice.

‘Akelda!’

The all looked around to the roundhouse where Cynilda now stood.

The elder of the three women, still in her twenties, and the more senior, Conn judged, laughed in amusement.

‘Cynilda? Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. I’d heard that you were sold to an Ancuman whorehouse. Instead here you are. Did you know your sister has usurped you? Maybe I will too…’ She then turned and smiled sweetly at Conn, quiet deliberately rearranging her choli to be more revealing, and bowed. ‘How may I serve my new master?’

Cynilda responded with a mini tantrum by stomping her foot and turning and going back into the roundhouse.

Conn and Derryth looked at each other while Guntor broke into a laugh. Derryth then broke into a grin.

‘Well, this is going to be fun…’

Despite the protestations of the three, Conn sent them away to the staff quarters where they could bathe, eat and change. He gave his guards special instructions not to let them into the roundhouse. He had that funny feeling that he was gravely under informed because something just happened that he had no understanding of. From the age of sixteen when he joined the British Army, he had worked very hard to never be at a disadvantage and he detested the feeling. Someone needed to do some talking, fast.

Cynilda was unusually absent when he ate dinner with Derryth and Guntor. Guntor and his men were leaving the next day; one of the Ancuman ships he had captured the previous year had arrived and had been made ready for them.

‘When will you go – I presume that you will not be so welcome in Axum?’

‘If we desire torture and execution we will go to Axum. No, we will go to the south; there are places that we can stay out of harm’s way – thanks be to you. You have distracted the Axum well enough to leave us alone – and the weapons you have given us will serve us well.’

Conn had negotiated a swap of their horses for a supply of Larsan weapons and armour. Not of Meshechian quality, it would none the less allow them to recruit and arm more wiga for their merry little band of outlaws. The supply of such things was strictly controlled on the Southern Isles to prevent any chance of rebellion.

As they parted, Guntor shook his hand – they would be moving to the ship tonight and leave at first light. ‘I have to say that it has been a pleasure, Marquis. I understand more of what confronts Axum now – and I do not envy them their task. You are a worthy opponent. If they defeat you, they will become more famous than Geirfrith.’

He reached into his pouch. ‘Speaking of which.’ He retreated a small parcel and opened up the oilskins wrapping to reveal a small scroll. He opened it. ‘This is Geirfrith’s banned scroll. I would like you to have it. I read it again and there is much of him that reminds me of you, strange as that may seem. And thank you again for reminding me of who we are.’

‘Thank you, Guntor and farewell. I hope that we do not meet again on a battle field.’

He laughed. ‘I have no intention of ever meeting you on a battle field. I think I’m going to be a pirate – or a farmer in Saba somewhere.’

Conn actually had to look for Cynilda. He found her in one of the new roundhouses under construction; it had yet to have tenants. She was sitting huddled, and was surprised when she heard her name.

‘Cynilda.’

Startled, she turned. ‘Master. I am sorry – are you looking for me? I am not feeling well.’

She went to stand and Conn made her sit. And he sat down beside her. She turned away but he gently brought her face around to look at him.

‘You have been crying.’

She denied it. ‘No, no. I got dust in my eye. I’ll be fine soon. What is it that you want? I’m sorry that I deserted my duties. Feel free to punish me.’

‘What do I want? Simple, I want to know what is going on. Who is Akelda?’

She looked at him for a moment. ‘It is hard to explain.’

‘Please try.’

She exhaled sharply before starting. ‘Akelda is of the House of Utika – it is the closest demesne to Larsa, and it was from where the wiga originated that attacked us here.’

‘So her father was responsible for the attack?

She didn’t answer directly. ‘That is hard to say without more information. But certainly her master was the one that you killed – but he would only be a minor leader. The real leader escaped.’

‘So why does she hate you and you her.’

‘Hate is too strong a word – we have always been competitive. She dislikes me because when we were fifteen I received a promise instead of her – from someone that she had decided that she wanted. I dislike her because she outranks me. Oh, and because she betrayed me.’

‘Betrayed you?’

‘Yes, when I ended up in the theow sales in Utika, she arranged for me to be sold to an Ancuman trader on his way back to Axum instead of a wiga in Utika. Luckily the trader went first to Rasadi when he lost me gambling with the Marquis. The Marquis then sold me to Eldhart. He was always in need of money to pay his wiga. That is how I ended up in Matya and where you found me.’

It was lot to digest. One thing at a time. ‘You said that she outranks you?’

Cynilda nodded. ‘After the great wave our Gyden chose ten women to rule the people that survived. Those that descend from those ten women are called of the “Blood” and we are ranked according to the order in which we were called. Utika is ranked one because her ancestor was called first. My house is Sinope, and we were called second – and as soon she takes her place in your house, I must obey her.’

‘Just as all the other Merians have obeyed you.’

‘Yes; that is the natural order of things. But it is not normal that one of Utika and one of Sinope would ever end up in the same hird.’

‘Hird? What is a hird?’

‘A hird is the collection of female theow you have in Meria. They are the ones that you are able to fornicate with. Every hird has a leader and I am in charge of your hird.’

‘I see. So Akelda is already in charge of my … hird?’

‘No, you have to fornicate with her first. Once you have claimed her body as yours – as is your right as her captor, then she takes over.’

‘I’m not going to force myself upon her…’

She laughed. ‘Sometimes you really don’t understand do you. You will not be forcing yourself – she will be
very
willing – I’m surprised that she isn’t already enticing you to invite her into your bed with promises of carnal bliss.’ She rubbed her hand down Conn’s leg. ‘I know who is going to get the biggest surprise though...’

‘Invite?’ It seemed an odd word. Her hand kept wandering.

‘Yes, you must invite her in public. If she visits you in the middle of the night; as she undoubtedly will, it doesn’t count.’

Conn liked the way things were at the moment; he had a funny idea that having Akelda in charge was not going to create harmony.

‘Can it be avoided?’

‘Well, I can avoid it tonight by ensuring that you are totally spent.’ She stood and removed her clothing before sitting herself on Conn’s lap as he sat on the raised bench. She then started to undo his trousers. ‘As for avoiding it totally; invite the others first – they are no threat to me. It can be days before you tire of them. As for Akelda, you will have to sell her.’

‘Sell her? Here in Larsa?’

‘No – not in Larsa, we have to go and sell her in Meria. She deserves that.’ She kissed him passionately. ‘By the time I’m finished with you tonight, you won’t need a girl for days.’

~oo0oo~

Derryth was surprised. ‘We are going to do what? We are going to Meria to sell, what’s her name, Akelda, because Cynilda thinks you should – and you don’t want her to take over?’

‘Apparently it’s the proper thing to do – selling unneeded theow at markets that are just for that purpose. We can make a place called Kirman in the mountains in five weeks.’

‘So why are we doing that now? We just got here. Is there no danger of further attacks?’

‘I’m assured not. I am still trying to get to Sytha. Cynilda tells me that as soon as we sell Akelda, we can head up to the highlands again next spring.’

‘Nothing is ever that simple. So how many wiga are we taking?’

‘None – just you and me and the girls.’ The three new ones were sitting out of hearing in the hall eating breakfast. They seemed to have less clothing on than the previous day. Cynilda was definitely wrong about the week. He doubted if he would last the day.

He laughed. ‘Great, a suicide mission. My favourite. I hope I get to save you before we both die.’

‘'Not a concern – apparently the Twacuman are even more highly regarded in Meria as sages and men of peace than here in Larsa. If you ride with us no one would think of attacking us – or so I am advised.’

‘That’s no fun. I don’t think saving you without doing anything counts in a blood debt. So when do we leave?’

‘A week. I’ve sent for Peig. I’ll leave Shona in Caledonia and Peig will take over here. Sir Rab is sending over one of his Captains to take charge of defences and a company of wiga will arrive with him to augment the ones here.’

~oo0oo~

After breakfast a much happier Cynilda formally introduced the three women. As well as Akelda il Utika, there was another one of Blood and her name was Wilenda il Bahal. The third was not of Blood, a servant theow named Alreda. She had joined Kelinda at the bottom of the hierarchy. To Cynilda’s immense satisfaction, Conn paid all his attention to Wilenda, and invited her to sit on his lap as they talked; cutting off Akelda as she tried to sit as close as possible. It wasn’t hard, Wilenda was gorgeous. He then invited her to his room that evening, to Akelda’s enduring frustration.

When he “tired” of Wilenda after a few days, he invited Alreda instead of Akelda, and the more homely if robust girl was almost embarrassed to be invited to his room instead of Akelda. She was however extremely grateful.

On the night before departing, Akelda couldn’t restrain herself; her desire for power made her attempt anything.

Alreda had just departed his rooms when she turned up, dressed in nothing but one of the silk kimonos. She came into his room uninvited.

‘Master.’ She bowed slightly.

Conn was lying on his bed. He had the entire roundhouse to himself. ‘Akelda. It is very late. How can I help you?’

‘I wanted to thank you for this…silk …kimono? It is magnificent.’ She glided into the lamp lit room. ‘I just love the embroidery…’ she took if off deliberately to show him the pattern on the back leaving her totally naked, ‘The skill of your craeftiga is amazing’. She sat down beside him on the bed, her lithe and extremely adequate body glistening in the flickers. ‘And your oils are so gentle.’ She picked up his hand to place it on her oiled breast. ‘My body has never been so soft and willing…is there
anything
I can do to show my appreciation?’

‘Now that you mention it, something has sprung to mind…’

~oo0oo~

Unfortunately for Akelda, though she used her body diligently to try and get Conn to invite her to his room the next night, she found that instead they were leaving for Kirman in Meria, the next morning. Hopeful to the last, she was disappointed by Cynilda the next day when she found out the real purpose of the trip, and although apparently gracious in defeat, she did visit Conn many times in his tent at night over the next weeks, creating a very tense atmosphere with the possibility of Conn accidently and innocuously inviting her to his tent. It took discipline as she was very enthusiastic.

Derryth just laughed. It was the most fun he had had in ages.

Instead of riding over the mountains directly into Meria, where they would find a very hostile reception, they rode north through the river valleys that separated the nations. It was the road to Malla but they didn’t go into town; instead they turned east for some time before tuning south.

As they rode through the deserted highlands, Conn could see the attraction of the area for grazing; mostly grass and limited trees, it was a vast steppe or prairie. The lack of forests was surely caused by a lack of rainfall; Conn imagined that the high mountains that surrounded the highlands created a rain shadow. Nonetheless, the amount of rain received created excellent grazing for livestock during the summer months. Streams littered the grassland, with cold and pure water running down into lakes. The grasses looked very familiar – he even had seeds of several planted in Meshech – including varieties of Prairie Clover, Switchgrass and Turkeyfoot.

It seemed that all of eastern Sytha was fed a constant supply of water from the snow topped mountains that surrounded the highland. Cynilda explained that Meria was a series of eight major river valleys and two upland valleys – the first of which was Kirman.

With the nights becoming colder, Conn started to feel more at ease as they were now sleeping communally in the single yurt. Fornication only happened while he was on guard duty amongst the grasses. He had Balios with him so didn’t feel derelict in his duty.  By the time they started south towards Kirman four weeks had passed and they were happy to leave the highlands; snow started to fall nightly, and the horses had grown a heavy winter’s coat.

The first major settlement in Meria that they encountered was the town of Kirman itself. They hadn’t encountered a patrol of any kind before the guard station a mile from Kirman, and Cynilda went and negotiated entry with payment of a fee. It was afternoon when they arrived; the town was quite large, a river flowed by its side, and several dozen large roundhouses filled up the main square. They rode past two inns before arriving at one with an attached livery stable large enough for all their horses.  While the women insisted on being allowed to deal with the lodging and dealing with the horses, Conn and Derryth decided to go for a walk. A tavern beckoned, and they were thirsty.

They walked into the biggest roundhouse Conn had ever seen; perhaps ninety feet across, and three story high in the centre. The six foot high, four foot thick, rammed earth walls that encircled the roundhouse held up strong oak beams that joined to form an apex at the centre, where they connected to the fourteen oak poles that sat in a circle in the centre of the room. The roof itself was a mixture of unsupported reciprocal frames and long beams supported by the central circle of poles. It was a large room and despite its size, it was reasonably warm with six simple stone fire places built around the outside. More than enough room to support a second level within the building, but this one didn’t have one.

After their eyes adjusted to the light, they saw that inside the oak poles was a ring, where two men slugged it out in hand to hand combat.  One was young and the other old – strength against experience; and it looked like experience was winning until the very end when a lucky punch ended the elder man’s night. As he slumped to the floor, the younger man jumped around with glee.