Conn didn’t think that Akelda would tell anyone deliberately – despite it being her mother who was the Mundborak, but it was probably hard to hide the fact that he was in Meria – and was the Steward of Tashke. Akelda didn’t know that he didn’t go to Sinope.
‘Did you hear how many wiga are being gathered?’
‘I heard someone say that the Steward has over a thousand offering their blades. I also heard that he has a large number of Ancuman wiga – something about a defeat last time that they want to revenge.’
Conn looked at Derryth, and the Twacuman shook his head. ‘I was just getting settled – looking forward to a quite year. The food here is really quite good – and I really like the black beer.’
Egwahl was a little confused at their reaction. ‘I don’t understand. Is this bad news? Is the Marquis of Rasadi a friend of yours?’
Conn put him at ease. ‘No, Egwahl, your news is very welcome because I am the Marquis of Rasadi, and I now need to cut the head off a snake.’
Nil departed the two days later for Caledonia and then for Avanti and then Rasadi with reinforcements. He would arrange for the message to pass to the Eaorl of Avanti and to the Wealdend of Larsa. The Wealdend was too far away and the Eaorl didn’t have much to offer, but he thought it appropriate to tell them anyway, just in case they were next.
Derryth spent the morning equipping the Kerchian wiga with new armour, swords, lances, bows and saddles – basically an entire new kit. Caledonia had sent enough for an entire battalion of five hundred men – and he had three hundred.
Conn had been to see them in their new uniforms. Derryth waited for him at the gate of the barracks.
‘So are they still insisting that they should go with us into Utika? I don’t want to kill them all.’
‘They are – they are the Marquis’s troops and since the Marquis is going, so are they. You shouldn’t worry too much – they are much better that some wiga you have led into combat before. Besides you have the company of very capable Meshechian Sagittari – and only have odds of five to one.’
‘You are being sarcastic again. Anyway, there will be a couple of hundred in Rasadi – as well as the walls.’
‘If we get there in time. The walls will only last a day or two.’
Getting there was indeed the major problem. It would take a month on horseback – not taking into consideration any opposition they might meet on the way. Going by ship was definitely quicker, and he had eight junks in the harbour unloading cargo. Each was designed to carry thirty horses, so two trips and he would be there within a week. To do that, he needed somewhere to land – without being attacked doing so.
Not long after Njil had departed for Rasadi, Egwahl also departed. He was to visit Utika again – and although seemingly just for the purpose of buying more theow because they were so cheap, he had a secondary mission of meeting with Renoth il Bahal and his Mundbora, Akelda il Utika, and pass on a request. Conn was calling in some favours.
In the days that followed, as Derryth and Brictdred trained the wiga until they dropped, Conn supervised modification to the junks for horse cargo. They were built to be used in a variety of ways so it was just a matter of attaching the necessary panels to create the stalls. More work was required on the docks to build a loading ramp that would allow the animals easy access to the deck and then down the gang plank into the hold. The junks also had treadmill cranes on board but that was a slow way of loading and unloading horses, so they built an unloading ramp to assemble when they arrived. The craeftiga in Kerch were able, and they learnt quickly.
Conn was overseeing the final modifications to the last junk when Egwahl returned ten days later. He had taken longer than expected, and Conn went to meet him as he tied up at the docks.
‘Marquis, I have good news and bad news. It seems that they will be departing for Rasadi sooner than I advised. The good news is that Renoth il Bahal was able to excuse himself from the campaign given that he has just become a Steward; and he has become the Steward of the demesne of Shalala.’
‘That is only good news if Shalala is on the coast.’
He smiled. ‘It is. I understand that it is considered a poor demesne – much of the land is hard and its main attribute is a fine harbour. I gather given the Mundborak’s status she was expected to choose something better, but she chose Shalala. I visited it on the way back. The harbour is excellent; deep enough for your junks, and it is a four day ride from Utika. They are awaiting you.’
‘And less than a week from the border. Excellent. Get some rest. We will start loading in the morning. We were just waiting for your return.’
When Derryth returned from the barracks, having been informed by a runner of the new instruction, he joined Conn at a table with a plate of food, two tankards of beer and a mug of coffee.
Conn smiled at him. ‘You can always go back and get more.’
‘I know – just don’t want to risk disappointment. These Kerchians are drinking far too much coffee. I told you that it was unwise to allow them to drink the stuff. We could run out.’ With Conn shaking his head at him, Derryth continued. ‘So it is Plan A then?’
‘It is.’
‘Good – I hate Plan B or Plan C – if I’d know that meeting you in Shekem years ago wasn’t Plan A, I’d never have agreed to it.’
‘It turned out all right, didn’t it?’
‘It did – but that is not the point. I’m a simple person. Plan A suits me.’
Conn had additional problems. Despite her protestations, Conn refused to allow Cynilda to ride with them.
‘This is ridiculous. I am just pregnant – not incapacitated. I can still ride.’ She was decidedly pregnant – probably thirty weeks pregnant, and Conn was not letting her go.
She huffed and puffed but Conn would not relent.
‘Well, you have to take someone. We can’t have you out there on your own. It is just not done.’
‘They are all pregnant. Except Keowyn and Dorte.’
‘They are not Merian. They do not understand!’
She finally got Conn to agree to take Keowyn with him. The Merians not of Blood were also not suitable.
With the loading preparations completed, the actual loading took very little time. It helped to have Balios in attendance; his presence calmed any nerves the horses had getting on to the rocking vessel. By nightfall the eight junks were at sea; they had only food and water for five days; though with a good wind, the journey should take only four uneventful days.
As it turned out, the winds were excellent and they sat off the coast of Shalala at dawn on the fourth day; waiting for the tide and light to guide them in. With bowmen at the ready just in case, they eased the junk into the harbour and onto the docks. As wiga tied to the vessel up, they lowered the drawbridge and Conn followed Derryth down to the dock.
Renoth and Akelda were waiting for him, and they both greeted him warmly.
Akelda in fact hugged him. ‘Now, I expect to be well rewarded. This is a terrible demesne – nothing but fishing, but you kept going on and on about how important a good harbour is.’
‘You will be rewarded. I will order a dozen ships with the finest merchandise in Meshech to be here next spring. Within a year you will have the richest demesne in Utika. I don’t forget my friends either.’ He turned to Renoth as they both turned to look at the first of the horses walking calmly off the junk. ‘You have somewhere for us to wait? We will be here for ten days.’
Renoth nodded. ‘I do; there is a lot of old roundhouses and barracks here – very old but still dry and usable. I’ve had my men clean them up for you.’
With the arrival of Brictdred on the second vessel, Conn went back to his boat and headed back to Kerch the next morning. Whilst their voyage there was uneventful, there had been sighting of ships, Ancuman ships, and he wanted to ensure that his ships weren’t attacked. Taking thirty bowmen with him, Conn set out early to ensure the pathway back to Kerch was safe. Before he left, he asked Renoth for a couple of local fishermen and he obliged.
A day later they had lowered their sails and were floating around the ocean. Lookouts were using the telescopes to scan the horizons.
Conn was comparing his maps with the fishermen’s knowledge, and not long after he had finished consulting with them, Derryth returned to say that nothing had been sighted yet.
‘Are you sure there is someone out here?’
‘I am – and I now know why.’ Conn pointed to the map. ‘This here is Merin.’
‘Your new demesne?’
‘I thought so too but no. There are two Merins – one – and the better one – is on the western side of the river and is controlled by Utika – some ancient dispute apparently. It seems also that the Steward recently changed – a few weeks ago – and he is an Ancuman. There is no Mundbora of age apparently, and nothing has happened because the Steward of Utika is also an Ancuman. So the Ancuman rules on his own.’
‘So there must be Ancuman ships going back and forward?’
‘Exactly. Which means that it is just a coincidence but they will be very interested if they see one of our ships.’
Conn waited until all the ships had passed on their return to Kerch and then patrolled until they had loaded up with the last of the horses and were on their way back to Shalala before he considered stopping. As the last of his ships passed by, he heard the call.
‘Ship ahoy. Enemy ship starboard bow!’
‘Battle stations! Remember the drill.’
The ship, the best equipped of all Conn’s junks, immediately went “dark”; the plain white and small sails were raised and it slowed considerably. Wiga went below to prepare and wait.
On the high deck next to the wheelhouse, Conn observed the Ancuman Cog; it was about the same size of his junk – over a hundred and fifty foot and had the raised quarterdeck and fighting forecastle.
Derryth sat beside him. ‘Are they taking the bait?’
‘They have. If would seem that they mean to plunder our ship because we look such easy pickings…’
As they tried to “evade” the cog it was clear they were out classed; and it wasn’t long before the cog was alongside telling them to lower their sails or be sunk to the bottom of the sea. The fisherman captain did so; the sails were lowered and the junk was quickly becalmed; the cog coming alongside as grappling hooks were tossed over and the two ships secured together.
As instructed, the junk now looked abandoned; there was no one to be seen. Conn couldn’t see but could hear the captain of the cog call out in response to a question they didn’t hear.
‘They are cowards and rats – they’re gone below. Get them – dig them out, and kill them all. We only want the ship and cargo.’
As soon as they were able, a dozen Ancuman wiga launched themselves over the side of the cog on to the deck of the junk, swords in hands. Conn gave a sharp whistle and he and Derryth launched themselves from their position as fifty arrows appeared from behind pavise disguised as boxes on the desk. Conn and Derryth were positioned so as to swing from ropes attached to the central mast of the ship and swing out off the boat and land on the deck of the cog.
The sudden death of his landing party cause the captain to retreat away from the side of the ship and to order his men to cut the ropes that tied the two vessels together. Almost simultaneously, a small catapult from the junk was released and its cargo of large grappling hooks on bigger ropes went all the way across the cog. Immediately men started to reel them in, and the cog’s escape was impossible.
Landing on the deck in a forward roll, Conn engaged two Ancuman wiga in a matter of moments as others fell from the arrows fired by Derryth. Soon, the only one left was the captain. He had his longsword in hand.
‘The Feorrancund! It seemed too easy…’
‘First impressions are usually correct. The day is lost. Are you surrendering?’
‘Never.’ He attacked – and was skilful but ultimately not skilful enough. After a few minutes of evading his attack, Conn found his opening and the man collapsed on the desk with the wakizashi in his chest. By this time the cog was crawling with Conn’s wiga, and a search was being undertaken of the entire vessel.
The survivors, all sailors and unarmed, were assembled on deck. They were not Ancuman. They were all Pontians.
‘Who is in charge?’ Conn asked of the assembled men.
One looked around before answered. ‘I guess that would be me – my name is Godhart. I was First Mate.’
‘Explain what and who you all are. I am Conn il Taransay, Marquis of Kerch.’
His eyes opened widely. ‘Kerch? Kerch has a Marquis? Now that is a surprise.’ He then first really noticed Derryth as he joined Conn. Derryth had been giving instructions to the treatment and disposal of the dead Ancuman. ‘And you have a Twacuman wiga at your side. Another surprise.’ He then waved his hand around to his crew. ‘We are all Pontians – from Kapisi in eastern Pontia. We are neighbours to Iladion. We have long been at odds with our neighbour, Kashgar, and their Ancuman friends, because they were riding through Kapisi territory for their incursions into Sytha and Iladion. Our Eaorl has no quarrel with the Twacuman or the Sythans.’ He looked at Derryth again. ‘I’m sorry we could not prevent what has happened.’
Derryth shook his head. ‘I am not from Iladion – I am from Halani. What has happened to my kin?’
‘I understand that the Aebeling of Iladion has been taken prisoner. When we tried to stop those events, my Eaorl was executed and his family sold as theow; as were most of his Fyrd and Thanes. I was a Thane in Kapisi. The current Eaorl of Kapisi is an Ancuman.’
Conn contemplated the information for a moment. He looked at Derryth who had a weird smile on his face. ‘You laugh and I’ll throw all the coffee overboard.’
The smile disappeared. ‘You take the fun out of everything. I was looking to having a really good laugh at your expense. Go on then, ask, we both know what the answer is.’
The conversation confused the First Mate, evidenced by the weird look on his face when Conn turn to address him.
‘Did your Eaorl have a daughter called Keowyn?’
Godhart then looked confused. ‘Keowyn? Yes, he did. Why do you know of her?’
There was no easy way to explain it. ‘Keowyn is my theow. She was a theow in Meria and she ended up being owned by me.’