The Marquis (39 page)

Conn was surprised. ‘You were expecting me?’

‘I was not expecting you specifically – but I was expecting something, and you look like something to me. Those that are guardians of the Priecuman share their emotions with the wind and the wind share with the trees, and I listen to the trees. Over the last few winters there are many more extreme emotions out there than usual – good emotions but also anger, death and hate – so I knew that that something was coming – I just thought it was going to happen three winters ago.’

‘I am sorry. I am just a leaf in a storm. Is there anything you need me to do?’

The old man smiled. ‘No, I have no expectations of such things. As you say, we are all leaves in a breeze. Today you have rescued me from those that would bind us against our will. I think that is enough, don’t you?’

He stood up. ‘If you want to get home soon, we need to leave. There are more Ancuman wiga in the village. ’ Eolyn had gathered his belongings and helped him put on his coat. Outside their horses waited. At the front as usual was Balios.

Eolyn walked up to him, and patted him. ‘How very strange. This horse is the Frea – the king of horses. The Casere had one – it was he who sired all the Elfina that went to battle against the Ancuman.’ He then went to his own horse and mounted. ‘Derryth of the fifth, I would ask that you ride with me.’ He then turned and headed out.

Conn instead went to the surviving Pontian wiga. Those that needed aid he administered. The Folctoga was still alive and Conn gave him a message to pass on to the Healdend, after introducing himself. The rules have changed. Any Pontians trying to cross Iladion land will die.

On the return journey Conn asked about any Twacuman being held hostage in service by the Ancuman like Wilric and Hallvi – he explained that he had rescued them.

Leoric wasn’t surprised. ‘They are all safe – the wind told them it was time to come home. I think Hallvi and Wilric, though they did not know it, were sent to find you. They like me are of the line of the Casere. There are but five of us left.’

Conn mentioned Brina and Oisin and how few there were amongst the Twacuman even in Meshech – though a lot more amongst the Priecuman.

He was surprised. ‘It is interesting that the blood of the Twacuman would have passed into the Priecuman tribes.’ He paused again before speaking. ‘Derryth tells me you have a child with a Twacuman.’

‘I do. Jowan. He is seventeen. My eldest. I imagine he is a father now himself.’

‘Yes, I think you are right. It is good that our blood is spreading. There are few of us – and the line of the Casere is even narrower. It has always been so. My son, who was murdered by the Pontians some years ago, had three children – an unseemly number. We are also the only ones that have Priecuman blood – my grandmother was from Sytha.’

At nights they stayed in huge A-framed houses secreted into the forest. The design was very similar to those in Halani, with cover for horses under the buildings. They were surprisingly warm as they were covered in turf. As they sat and ate, Leoric had his own questions.

‘I sense you have the Torc. Can you show it to me?’

Conn fetched it from his pouch and handed it over. Today it was folded into quarters. Every time he took it out to look at it, it was a different shape or pattern.

He nodded. ‘The Torc is a relic of the Ancuman captured by the Casere. It was also him who divided into two for his daughter and his son. It was my grandfather who sent the half we had to Meshech – except it was again in the manner of a Torc. You have done well to join the two halves together. Why do you not wear it?’

Very soon after the Torc was reformed by Lilith, and placed around his neck, Conn found that he could remove it. It was surprisingly malleable at times. They only people that saw it on him were sworn to secrecy.

‘There has been no need for a Casere in Sytha.’

Leoric contemplated his answer before speaking. ‘There are times in the Priecuman world when the forces that drive things in one direction are not matched by forces that drive things in the other. It loses balance. Such a time was over a thousand years ago when he who became the Casere arrived in Sytha. As Casere he was able to create balance. The great flood created another cycle of imbalance.’

‘So the world is unbalanced because of the Ancuman?’

The old man shrugged. ‘I do not think it is that simple and the trees are not specific. All I have is emotions – concern, anticipation, hope, despair. It is confusing even to me.’

~oo0oo~

Seven days later they arrived in the main settlement of Iladion. By the time they had got to the village centre, a great crowd of people had gathered along the path. Leoric had been away for years and his return was being celebrated. Even so, there was an overwhelming sense of sadness, and even Derryth seemed to be wiping tears from his eyes. A large group of elders stood waiting as they arrived – and they helped Leoric into his house. Conn and Derryth was directed to another house, and then to a steam house where they had their first real bath for weeks.  They watched people go in to see Leoric in an endless queue. At dusk, they were told that Leoric wanted to see them both, and they went and sat down beside him.

‘We will not meet again, Feorhhyrde. Soon I will pass over – I have asked that my pyre be prepared on the escarpment. I have waited long enough. It is time for me to join with the wind.’ He paused to sip his tea. ‘It seems that that time is with us again so Freyotta and Ceolrys will go with you to fulfil the ancient agreements.’ He held out his hand and Conn offered his. He smiled briefly. ‘There is a link between us that I do not understand. Soon I will. Goodbye and fair travels. Your journey has been a long one and I feel that it is to be even longer.’

After Conn had left, Derryth stayed a few moments as requested before joining Conn outside. The entire village was standing and waiting. Eolyn was now the only one inside. Soon he returned; his face full of tears but it would seem happy tears.

‘Grandfather has passed over.’ He told the crowd.

Everyone cheered and cried and cried and cheered. Wiga went into the house to collect his body, now wrapped in a large rug. Everyone then followed the body through the village to the escarpment before placing it on the pyre. As the last night disappeared from the sky, Ceolrys was given the duty of setting the flame to the pyre and they stood sombrely until the pyre was a pile of ash. Leoric had joined his ancestors and the wind.

Almost immediately they returned to centre of the village to have a feast. People collected instruments and started to play music – flutes, drums and strings. Other collected barrels of mead while outdoor fires cooked carcasses of deer and pig.

Derryth explained that a long life was sometimes a burden as you get to experience the suffering of many others that live their lives within yours. To die was a release from that suffering, and the Twacuman all celebrated the passing of their ancients is such a way.

When Conn finally went to bed he found two females waiting for him in his house. They were naked.

‘We wish to celebrate’ one explained as they help him removed his clothes, ‘and there is a rumour that Priecuman like to fornicate much more than Twacuman. Certainly those men that held our grandfather prisoner seem to talk about it all the time. One of our cousins collected lots of Ryals from wiga who were even prepared to exchange silver for it. Priecuman are strange people.’

~oo0oo~

The next morning they gathered with Eolyn and the elders. Eolyn was now Aebeling of the Twacuman.

He addressed Conn. ‘Feorhhyrde. We thank you for returning our grandfather to us. But that is the past. What do you want us to do in the future?’

‘Well, I have a little invasion of Pontia to complete and a whole bunch of Ancuman to kick out of Sytha. Can you help us with that?’

‘Of course.’

‘How many wiga can you muster?’

‘There are over ten thousand people in these mountains. At least three thousand can use a bow competently though we don’t have that many horses.’

‘Three thousand is not necessary. I would like a thousand ready by spring. Let me tell you what I have in mind.’

~oo0oo~

By midmorning, Conn, Derryth, Ceolrys and Freyotta rode out of the village and on their way to Rila, where they arrived two weeks later. After a short discussion with the Steward, they boarded the Junk, and headed back to Sytha. Ceolrys and Freyotta had never been on a ship and spent the first few day’s sick. After that they were fine; and spent their time learning how to sail. Sighting the harbour, Derryth moved up beside Conn on the deck. ‘I’ve been having bets with the others. Would you like to participate?’

‘What are you betting on?’

‘Two things – if you are in fact immortal – because you are going to need to be, and who is actually going to kill you.’

Conn laughed. He pointed to Ceolrys and Freyotta. ‘Who do they have their money on?’

‘Hallvi. I’ve got mine on Cynilda. They don't know Cynilda like we do.’

They didn't find out if he was immortal – but they did go close. The surprising presence of the two Twacuman was probably all that saved him – Ceolrys was far too beautiful a man for anyone to stay mad at anything with him around. If at all possible, he was even more beautiful than Ewan and Jowan. Freyotta's beauty made them feel insignificant, though she was far too nice to hate. It all helped to distract them from killing Conn.

They threw lots of things at him though; mostly cushions and other soft furnishings as there was not much else at hand. Sir Njil, recently returned with Alana and the siblings, laughed and laughed. Derryth wanted to laugh too, but they chose to punish him as well. Especially Hallvi. ‘Why are people blaming me?’ he pleaded.

‘You should have said no.’ Cynilda explained. ‘We are not going to run off in the middle of the night to a place where most Sythan never go in fear of their lives.’ They were quick to point out that they didn’t mean any offense by that.

Hallvi and Wilric were confused that Conn and Derryth would ride off without them, but pleased to see their brother and cousin. They took the passing of their grandfather well, Conn thought, as he ducked another cushion.

After a day of abuse, they were almost forgiven and that evening they went to see the Healdend. As Conn and Derryth walked at the head of the group, Conn asked. ‘Is Freyotta ready for this?’

‘Yes – it seems that she has always known that this was her destiny. Leoric told her when she was a child that she would probably be the first to be called in many a generation.’

‘And Ceolrys?’

‘He understands as well; he knows what is expected. After all, his great grandmother was of Sytha. These are his kin.’

‘So let’s go and rearrange some furniture.’

‘No-one does it as well as we do, so I guess we should – it is after all in their best interest.’

‘Sometimes, Derryth, even I don’t know if you are being sarcastic or not.’

He laughed. ‘That is because I’ve had a great teacher!’

It was a ‘private’ gathering of about two hundred people; the Healdend and his family, the numerous Eaorls, and Conn’s hird. The midsummer festival was upon them and most people were in Sytha. They had gathered today because the news of Conn’s return and his extra passengers had spread like wildfire.

Lile took Ceolrys and Freyotta up to meet the Healdend and his Aebeling. Conn stood behind and waited for the inevitable.

The Healdend finally turned his attention to Conn. ‘Marquis, do you often just wander off and go to places others never venture?’

‘Not as often as I’d like, Healdend, but sometime things need to be done.’

‘And what, pray tell, needed to be done that it couldn’t have waited until you had at least informed me about it before you actually did it?’

The Healdend liked to think that he knew what was going on. He didn’t most of the time, but he liked to think that he did. In this case, he knew he didn’t.

Conn explained. ‘The Aebeling asked about an ancient agreement between Iladion and Sytha that necessitated the exchange of bedda. He asked if it was going to be revived… I didn’t know the answer – a situation that I do not like – and thought I’d go and ask.’ It wasn’t the total truth but it sounded good. Derryth gave him the thumbs up.

The Healdend was exasperated. ‘Thought you’d go and ask? Seriously? You expect me to believe that?’

Conn nodded, trying to keep the smile off his face.

‘And what was their answer?’ He asked scoffingly.

‘Yes.’

Healdend was still scoffing and he choked on his laugh.

‘Yes? Yes? But that agreement has not been kept for two hundred years – my great-great aunt or something was the last to go. I have seen some record of a message saying that she had died.’

Conn continued. ‘Your relative is the ancestor of four living Twacuman – Eolyn the Aebeling and his son Ceolrys. Wilric and Hallvi are Eolyn’s siblings’

‘Seriously? These three are my kin?’

‘Yes. And Ceolrys is here to choose a bedda from your demesne – as is the agreement – and Freyotta is here to be bedda to the Aebeling.’

‘Seriously?’

It was getting monotonous, so Conn added a few extra details.

‘I also negotiated that I can take my fyrd into Pontia through Iladion – and as I suggested, they are going to lend me some wiga.’

‘Ser...’ He stopped himself in time because something occurred to him. ‘How many wiga?’

‘One thousand or so.’

‘Seriously?’ He just could help himself.

Conn gathered a mug of beer from a servant and went and sat down. As he did so, Derryth leant over the table. ‘I don’t think we just moved furniture – I think we have just built him a new house and he doesn’t know where the furniture is anymore.’

The Healdend ordered that the feast to welcome the visitors from Iladion commence. The level of excitement was palpable, and poor Ceolrys had to contend with a lot of partially undressed young girls walking over to be introduced.

Alana was in distress, and she complained to her father.

‘Papa, are you sure I can’t have him? He is very beautiful.’

Conn shook his head. ‘They would probably attack you if you tried. It has to be someone from the noble houses of Sytha.’

‘I descend from Osstan…surely that is enough.’

Although the same tribe as the Silekians, Sythan dressed far more conservatively in comparison due to the weather. They wore loose fitting and richly-coloured tunics over baggy trousers that were close fitting at the bottom. The Samrians had as similar style of tunic and like them the shape of the top varied so that you could be as risqué as you wanted. A tight bodice between layers also help to promote your assets, and the bigger breasted the girl; the more that seemed to ‘spill out’.

Elsewhere some were pouting – or even crying. He asked Lile what was happening.

‘The ones crying are my cousins – they are related to his grandmother. They are feeling very miffed indeed, and they cannot be his bedda.’

‘Not so close as to prevent a union surely?’

‘Our Gyden has strict rules about such things – no connections within four generations.’

As the feast progressed, the Healdend requested guidance from Derryth and Conn as to how it all was supposed to work. This was Derryth’s field. He stood and addressed the hall.

‘In Iladion I learnt more about the ancient agreement that was created to bind in friendship the house of Iladion and the house of Sytha. Every other generation or so, two from Iladion would come to Sytha – one to be bedda to the Aebeling of Sytha while the Aebeling of Iladion would choose a bedda from the court of the Healdend. The rules say that he has only two weeks to choose a bedda from those that elect to be available. It is to be remembered that she who is chosen will most likely never return to Sytha, and may never see her family again.’

He stopped to look at the number of girls that continued to mill around the court. He continued. ‘She who becomes bedda to the Aebeling of Sytha will of course return to her home on the death of the Aebeling, and because the burden of loss is so much greater to the family of Sytha, the agreement in the past provided for the payment of a dowry to that family of a hundred thousand Ryals.’

Interest had subsided before amongst the girls but had now revived again amongst their fathers or brothers – the Eaorls; a hundred thousand Ryals would change their fortunes considerably.

Since arriving in Sytha, Conn had learnt that most of the Eaorls were heavily in debt – taxes from the war with Pontia and the inability to graze their herds in the highlands during summer had proven damaging to their collective fortunes. On top of which, the Healdend himself was stretched – he had almost exhausted the treasury to raise the sums to pay the Ancuman for ‘protection’ – most of that Conn had ‘inherited’. The Sytha Insurance and Finance Company had purchased most of that debt and was providing new loans as needed – with conditions. 

The Healdend had also been debasing the Sythan currency for some time. It had cost him a lot more to buy the cattle from the Samrians than he had wanted – the Samrians did not like the quality of his gold, and with the arrival of the higher quality, purer Meshechian coins, he had to either re-smelter his coinage or accept a lesser rate. He found both options galling but a condition of loans from the SIFC was that all loans be in the old weighted gold Ryals.

It was even more galling that he couldn’t give full advantage of the gold on offer as his own family was too closely related. It was going to be an interesting few weeks.

The next day they held a ceremony to install Freyotta as bedda to Eomon, Aebeling. For her it was not a life sentence, and Lile’s brother seemed a reasonable person anyway. The difficulty was only the jealousy of her fellow bedda, but they knew she wouldn’t have children with him. Anyway, she was impossible to dislike. Eomon was already besotted. Although ten year older than him already, she looked like a teen.

~oo0oo~

When he sent the first convoy of ships and wiga to Sytha six years ago he sent them under the command of Beomon von Leofric, one of the youngest sons of his first Priecuman friend, Abrecan.  During his time in Sytha, Beomon had kept a low profile but had created wealth second to none in Sytha. He wasn’t even the principal of the SIFC – that was his cousin Shernoth von Leofric; Beomon was principal of the Meshech Trading Company based down on the docks. Together they ensured that the local business were not bankrupted by the arrival of superior products from Meshech, and that items for trade were manufactured, so that all the Meshechian trading ships left with goods to sell somewhere else.

Conn decided to improve the status of both, and took them to meet with the Healdend at a time when the hall was full of Witan members.  Tredian was aware of both men – he had cause to summon both to see him on occasions – either to organize more money or more wine. Beomon controlled the supply of wine and silk exclusively.

‘Healdend, in the absence of the Healdend of Silekia, I wonder if you could perform a service for me.’

‘Of course. Happy to assist.’

‘As you know, both Beomon and Shernoth have worked tirelessly for the service of both Meshech and Sytha these last six years, and without their help many things might not run as smoothly as they might.’

Tredian nodded. Most of the Eaorls were now taking notice. Money was always a sensitive topic.

‘Well, in Meshech we have a way of acknowledging and rewarding those not of noble heritage for their service. It is called the Meshech Order of Merit.’ Conn opened up a case and took out two leather boxes. Inside was the badge and breast star of a Knight of the Order.

He turned and called Beomon forward. ‘In recognition of your service to commerce between Meshech and Sytha, the Healdend of Silekia appoints you to the Meshech Order of Merit as a Knight.’  He then attached the bar to his tunic and asked Tredian to affix the breast star. Both were dressed in the formal black uniform jacket of the Guild of Scholars, the only difference being the colour of their cuffs. The Guild of Scholars covered activities from a simple merchant to a Magister.

Tredian did so and Conn then reintroduced him.

‘Tredian, Healdend of Sytha, may I introduce to you Sir Beomon von Leofric.’

Conn then proceeded to perform the same ceremony with Shernoth.

He then invited the Healdend to lunch with them – a new Meshechian inn had just opened near the docks and it had some new wine.

‘Which estate?’ Tredian like his wine.

Conn looked at Sir Beomon, and he answered. ‘A red from Atrak and a white from Rakia. The white is particularly nice.’

As they walked out, Tredian having cancelled his afternoon meetings, he asked. ‘What actually is a Knight anyway – and why do you call him Sir?’

A few days later Conn had secured formal bedda for both men from within Tredian’s family – a daughter and a niece. Of course, the dowries the girl’s families received was very much appreciated.

~oo0oo~

Conn and Derryth tried to stay out of the bedda negotiations; they had plenty to do preparing for their trip to Rila. Sir Njil and Sir Eggar were there to coordinate the supply of resources and equipment. Warehouses in Caledonia were full of everything he needed to facilitate the war.

Lile, however, didn’t sit back and observe; she seemed to have a vested interest in getting ‘her’ outcome; she seemed almost driven, though Conn was unsure why. Conn suspected something was afoot when Lile introduced him to Sigbad; Thane of Hatria in the demesne of the Marquis of Barion to the east. Barion was also a March as it was on the border with Larsa. He was also introduced to Sigbad’s younger sister Albega.

Lile informed him that she wanted Albega be the bedda to Ceolrys. Conn was surprised. The girl was not unattractive – but certainly not the best looking he had seen; she was homily and certainly not as sophisticated or flamboyant as the daughter of the Eaorls.

‘And Ceolrys is in agreement?’ Hallvi confirmed that he wanted to do what was best for everyone – the Twacuman were very unemotional about such things.

‘So what is the problem?’ The ladies were looking uncomfortable; as if someone had accidently sold his favourite horse and was afraid to tell him.