The Marquis (9 page)

‘I do not feel the presence of my Folgere, Wealdend. What have you done with them?’

Efilda couldn’t speak immediately but eventually she got her words out. Tears streamed down her face.

‘There are none, Astarte; they have died from old age.’

‘Then I shall call some.’ She held out and opened her hand to Efilda. In her hand was a golden necklace with a brown gemstone – smaller than the one that Conn had placed in her hand. ‘This is for you. Wear it as leader of your people.’ She opened her other hand. ‘Keep this and give it to the first of the ones I call. She will be my voice and your console. Take her guidance when you need guidance, and help her make offerings to me so that we may know each other well. I have missed my lost children.’ Her aura flickered over and around Efilda’s stomach. She smiled curiously. ‘Interesting. You are going to have twins. A curious gift. However, we will take care of them.’

By the end of the discussion Efilda was a total mess; she had placed the necklace on her neck and had almost immediately started to bawl. Tears streamed down her neck, though they were tears of happiness. Astarte smiled at her one last time before turning away. As she continued to walk around; her golden aura flickered and touched her people. When she arrived in front of Conn, she pointed to the prone Ancuman.   ‘My sister shields them from me. I wonder why she would do so.’

‘Probably because their hearts and souls are impure and corrupt, I think. Maybe she is embarrassed at her creations.’

‘Perhaps – but there is more I think.’ She paused to study Conn, her aura flickering off his body but not making contact, as if there was some kind of barrier between them. She smiled curiously. ‘The children of the mountains call you Feorhhyrde I believe. How very interesting. My sisters have made note of you, Feorhhyrde, but there is much they do not understand. It seems that you too are shielded.’ She sighed. ‘Would that I have Folgere here. I would get to know you better too.’

She looked next at Derryth. ‘It is a long time since one of the children have graced my hall. Welcome Derryth of the unfulfillable quest. The Feorhhyrde is however richer for your attempts, and his memory is safe in your hands.’

Derryth bowed respectfully and mischievously. ‘Your news is not welcome, Gyden, but your presence is.’

She smiled and headed back to her stone bench. She turned and looked at Conn. ‘You have given me much, Feorhhyrde. I will give you something, someday, in return.’

Conn bowed respectfully as the voluptuous Gyden settled back into her position on the floor. She then opened her hand out to show the brown-orange glow slowly flickered out and she was then gone. The naked stone idol, with a single glowing haligdom, was all that remained.

Derryth was now cradling the bawling Efilda. With the Gyden gone, she was finally able to regain her composure. She went to Conn and hugged him for minutes, whispering in his ear. ‘I don’t understand but thank you, thank you so much.’

The Ancuman had regained composure as well. They stood looking at the idol in bewilderment – especially the Folgere. Conn could hear him mouthing ‘This is not possible’ to himself over and over.

Conn walked over. ‘You were saying?’ He hated to gloat but there was something about this Folgere that curdled his blood. He felt like beating him to a pulp and letting him recover and doing it over and over again. 

There was nothing he could say so he chose to promise. ‘Just because she is back does not mean she will stay – just like you and your abominations. You are all destined to lower your head to Ashtoreth.’

‘But not today.  Certainly not today. Today you bowed to Astarte.’

Conn gave orders for them to be escorted to their ships in the port. As they turned to leave, he called out.

‘Geirnarr?’

The Ancuman Aebeling turned around. He was still bemused by the whole turn of events.

‘Marquis?’

‘Let us not make a habit of this. A third time is not lucky.’

Geirnarr laughed. ‘So they say. But no promises. I do as I am told – like any good wiga.’

‘Except die.’ This was from Baldri.

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

Baldri looked shocked. Agkell was outraged. He yelled.

‘That is blasphemy, Geirnarr. You must repent. Evil ideas lead to evil actions’.

Agkell should have known better. Geirnarr backhanded him, and he fell to the floor. ‘I take no advice from you, Folgere.’

Conn watched curiously as wiga escorted Baldri and the bleeding Agkell down the hill. Geirnarr had yet to leave. Conn walked up beside him.

‘I don’t understand.’

Geirnarr laughed. ‘That must be a first. What I said but shouldn’t have said is from a scroll – a banned one – written by one of Axum’s greatest Folctoga. His name was Geirfrith. It was he that united all the Ancuman lands under the Axum. Unfortunately he fell out of favour and he and his were purged. He was even murdered on the Bretwalda’s instructions, despite being his uncle. It is still an open wound.’

‘Will there be consequences?’

‘Everything has consequences, Marquis. You know that as well as I.’ The Ancuman commenced following the wiga down the hill. ‘Geirfrith is an ancestor of mine – from my mother’s line. That is why I am not a wiga anymore – I am not trusted. I was stripped of my command when it was discovered.’ He shrugged. ‘I didn’t even know. Anyway, these things happen. Farewell Marquis. I dare say we will meet again.’

Derryth and Efilda joined him as they watched him disappear out of sight. ‘He is a hard man to hate.’ Derryth commented.

‘Probably because everyone on his side seems to hates him!’ He then drew Derryth’s attention to the horizon in the harbour. ‘You are saved. Njil has arrived and I’m sure he has some good quality beer with him.’

‘And coffee. Will he have coffee? We are down to a month’s supply. I know because I check daily.’

Conn laughed. ‘For all our sakes, I certainly hope so.’

~oo0oo~

It took some hours for the majority of the Ancuman vessels to leave the harbour, and for Njil to find a berth. There were still some in the port in the morning, but by midday all had left port except for one – the smallest and grubbiest. From the information that had been collected by Wystan, Conn had learnt that there was one vessel exclusively filled with Southern Isle Ancuman – no Axum were in command of this vessel – there were nothing but wiga from Alwa. Knowing this, Conn had engineered that it not be allowed to leave. It hadn’t been hard – the Axum command had decreed it anyway – after a little reverse psychology prompting from Conn.

When the little ship was the last one left in the harbour, Conn and Derryth escorted a very drunk, dishevelled, and filthy Ancuman wiga to the vessel on the docks. He was so drunk that he could hardly stand. Derryth was also a bit seedy. He had been drinking with the man. Derryth had enticed him with a barrel of the best beer that Njil carried.

Conn hailed the Captain, who respectfully came at his bidding.

‘Marquis.’  He greeted Conn with a bow. If nothing else, the Ancuman respected warriors, and they all recognized Conn.

‘We found this fellow in the back of a tavern. Does he belong to you?’

‘No, and I don’t recognize him.’

‘He must have missed his boat then. Can I leave him in your good hands? Oh, and he can be delusional.’

‘He is Axum. They are all delusional.’ Conn could see hesitation and suspicion growing in the Captain’s eyes. He looked like he was prepared to leave him behind, and Conn didn’t want him to do so.

Conn reached in his pouch, and pulled out parcel wrapped in leather and tossed it to the Captain. He opened it and looked inside, and his eyes flared. It contained three 350g gold bars, or 150,000 Ryals, and a small fortune for the small shipload of men. Unlike Meshech, Conn had learnt that the within Sytha there was a history of larger denomination gold coins for commercial purposes – bars of gold rectangular kobans – roughly equivalent to 175, 350 or 525 grams of gold. While Derryth went drinking, Conn went to the goldsmith and had him convert a bag of Meshechian Ryals into bars. He doubted that the Captain would be that excited about 200 Meshechian gold coins that would take a lot of explaining.

He looked questioningly at Conn.

‘For your inconvenience.’ Conn stated evenly. ‘And a small favour – instead of going where I think you are going, is it possible to get disorientated and then go somewhere else – say anywhere in Kishdah except Axum?’

He nodded thoughtfully and smiled wryly. ‘It is possible for us to turn the wrong way – the fleet is far ahead of us now – but it is a great favour you ask.’ He refolded the gold bars and out it in his pouch. ‘But it seems trifling in the circumstance – and we are not of Axum – we are of Alwa so we are not welcome in Axum anyway.’

‘Thank you Captain; fair sailing– you have a long journey.’

Conn reached out his hand and after hesitating, the Captain shook it.

‘Farewell, Marquis.’  He turned away and paused. He looked back and then spoke.

‘Marquis, may I ask a question in return?’

‘Of course.’

‘There is talk amongst the men that you have an Ancuman theow in your possession. Some claimed seeing such a woman disembark from your magnificent ship yesterday. Is that true?’

‘It is – she surrendered to save her master Torvarr and his troop from dying unnecessarily. The price of their freedom was Kutidi becoming theow.’

‘Torvarr was always an arrogant fool... and she has paid a high...’ He stopped himself. He then began to speak but stopped again. He had a goldfish thing going with his mouth. Finally, things got a bit clearer for him and he looked around nervously.

‘Did you say Kutidi?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is she of Axum?’

‘No – like you – she is of Alwa.’

The Captain was confused. ‘Kutidi el Sarun il Alwa?’

Conn looked confused. ‘I have not heard her use that name. But her son’s name is Sarun.’

She had insisted on giving their son that name – though she hadn’t explained why.

He actually smiled. ‘Well, well, well. So she is alive – and a Sarun has returned. Someone said that she died in Meshech – but to the Axum becoming a theow is like death. Thanks be to Istah.’ He breathed in and out slowly. ‘I will do as you ask but only because Kutidi would ask. She is one of few of the house of Alwa left.’ He pointed to the drunk wiga.  ‘I presume the man is the former Healdend – and you don’t want him to get home in a hurry. Why you do not just kill him is beyond my comprehension but I will respect your decision.’

He was not a silly man, the Captain. It was more of a statement than a question, so Conn left it unanswered. He just smiled ever so slightly.

The Captain then nodded and offered his hand to Conn again.

‘My name is Volund; Volund el Dargar il Alwa. My ancestor Dargar was a Thane at the time of the last Healdend in Alwa, but my family lost their demesne in the destruction of Alwa by the Axum. Please tell Kutidi of my actions so that my family is rewarded when the words of the last Sarun become true. Farewell Marquis.’

He left before Conn could get more from him. They shook and the captain left to board his ship, after getting his men to take the “drunk” aboard. He yelled instructions and the boat rowed itself out of port, hoisted sails and headed straight out to sea.

Derryth looked at Conn. ‘That was a strange discussion. I wonder how long it will be before Dagrun is reunited with his family.’

‘Not sure – it is a long way back from Alwa to Axum. It will certainly take some time. They might not even recognize him when he gets back anyway. He is after all dead.’

‘You are a cruel and devious man, Conn il Taransay.’

Conn laughed. ‘So people tell me. You mainly. Come we need to get organized. We need to get back to Subari before winter and there is a lot to organize here first. Also, Njil and Kutidi and the kids are waiting for us – with beer.’

‘Isn’t Sarun a little young for beer?’

‘That reminds me; I need to have a little discussion with Kutidi about Sarun. There is something very important that she has failed to inform me about.’

It transpired that the last Sarun, her ancestor who fought against the Axum in an effort to retain his nation’s independence, had some prophetic words before his execution by Geirfrith in 540. He said that he would be back to avenge his people.

People soon took it that his name would be back to take his revenge and the Axum promptly banned the name Sarun on pain of death. Three hundred and forty years later, the next Sarun had been named, far away from Axum control. That was a lot of pressure on the little guy – and not an inconsiderate amount of danger. Conn increased security just in case.

Conn spent the next weeks wandering around the town doing what he could to invigorate commerce. The easiest way was to spend money, and he did so by buying houses, an inn with an attached livery stable, several warehouses and a multitude of shops within the bazaar, and most of the docks. It seemed that each dock was privately owned, and Conn soon owned most of them, and thus controlled the harbour. The new Harbourmaster, a Major from his Logistics Corp, reported to him alone instead of a committee.

As junks arrived from Meshech, they brought not only products for sale but merchants and craeftiga. His craeftiga took over supervision of repairs and renovations to his property holdings while the merchants utilized his shops and warehouses. With the imported expertise in place, by the time he left for Subari the harbour and adjoining buildings was in the midst of a major transformation, and when thousands of tons of merchandise arrived from Meshech in the spring, the distribution process would be in place.

When he joined the Witan for meals in the also slowly renovating donjon, as directed by the Wealdend, his work at the ports was much commented upon.

They scorned his waste of money on paving streets, constructing drainage systems, and rebuilding the docks. Conn tried hard to explain but he finally gave up and said it was a habit. They understood strange habits.

At the last meeting of the Witan he made two proposals.

Both received stunned silence.

Sumy, as usual, was the first to complain.

‘That has never been done before. We have from the beginning of time had exactly the same number of Marches. They were all that was deemed necessary to protect the demesne.’

Conn’s proposal was to split Subari into two – it was after all a very large demesne and he was a long way from home. He also wasn’t going to be around for long.

Sumy continued. ‘And Wystan is only a distant relative of the Marquis of Sumal … it would be…unseemly. And give others ambitions beyond their station…’

‘I am not related to any of you so anything is possible. And I’m not suggesting another Marquis out of respect for your history.’

‘If it is not a March – what is this proposed demesne to be called?’

‘A Barony.’

‘A Barony? Is that something you have in Meshech? In Larsa they have Eaorls…’

Conn explained they have Eaorls as well – but no Marches.

He had discussed the proposal already with the pregnant Efilda and they had investigated. Conn never asked a question he didn’t know the answer to – if he could help it.

‘I have checked the rules. For it to happen, one of my neighbours also must agree – and to show that agreement he has to give land to the new demesne. Also no money must change hands.’

‘So Sumy,’ Conn spread out the new maps he had his surveyors create, ‘will you join with me in creating a new Barony?’

‘Give away land? No. I will not contemplate such a thing.’

It was the answer he had expected. Conn turned to Sarepeta. ‘Mungan? I would propose that the land from here… to here would form the new Barony…’

Mungan looked closely at the map. ‘Are you not giving away the existing town of Subari? Is it not on the western side of the river?’

‘I am indeed. I would propose to build a new town here,’ Conn pointed to a point on the eastern side of the peninsular. ‘I have built a village there already and it has a fine harbour – and I like harbours. All you are giving away is grazing land. Not a single village. Just a few cows.’

He laughed. ‘Indeed that is true.’ He contemplated it for a moment. ‘Very well, I agree.’ To the howls of disapproval, he continued. ‘But only because of my sister. I would see that she is rightly done by and what you give away is a ransom. Kidnapped as she was and then joined to a wiga without my consent, I feel that I have not done my duty to her as her brother. If she were the bedda of a ... Baron… my heart would not pain with my failure.’ He complained for show but it had the effect of at least calming the opposition and justifying his decision. ‘And, also because you give away SO much more than me.’

Later that day they created the first Baron in Samria – the Baron and Baroness Subari. It was not the last. Many of the second sons of the Marquises took it as a slight to their standing as Thanes and within a year another ten Barons had been created.

Conn had the remnants of his demesne named the March of Caledonia.

The second proposal caused consternation and just a little bit of excitement. He hadn’t discussed it with Efilda.

The Wealdend was at first confused. ‘Did I hear correctly? You want us to restart the cattle trade and take our cattle to Sytha – like we used to do hundreds of years ago?’

Conn nodded. ‘I am – and I’m suggesting six thousand head. I have been asking around and it would seem that would be an easy enough number to gather together.’

‘But the Larsans will destroy our herds – and kill our men.’

‘Not with four hundred of my cavalry protecting them, they won’t.’

Efilda was not expecting that. ‘So you are going with them? You are leaving?’

‘I am. I have to. I still have an agreement with the Healdend of Sytha to fulfil, and I’m already over a year late. I am a man of my word. I can’t take all the horses by ship efficiently and to ride through might be problematic. Six thousand head of cattle would provide an excellent cover. It will also benefit Samria.’

It would also give Conn an opportunity to see what the Ancuman were up to. For them to have so many wiga and horses in Samria was unusual. Something must be afoot and if it wasn’t in Samria then it had to be in Larsa.

They discussed it late into the night and eventually they all agreed – it was too good an opportunity to miss – and they could make excellent money selling their animals in Sytha. Conn also promised to guarantee their costs. The new branch of the MFIC – called the Samrian Finance and Insurance Company (SFIC) had received the first Charter issued in Samria; giving it approval to operate within the bazaar as a money lending corporation. It was already doing brisk business.

They also agreed that the six thousand head would be in Sumy ready to leave next spring.

Derryth’s response when he heard was as expected: ‘You are not serious. I have herded pigs, goats and sheep with you. Now you want me to be a cattle herder.’

‘They are called drovers.’

‘I don’t really care – it isn’t nice whatever you call it. They smell bad and they poop on your boots and … and … everywhere!’

‘You could go by ship….’

Sir Njil had recently left for Meshech with a cargo hold full of hides for treatment in Atrak. Cattle hides was something that Samria had a lot of, and he would be returning to Caledonia in the spring to take the women and children to Rila for him. Even Kutidi was prepared to leave without him. She was happy to keep Sarun safe – as was Conn. With his arrival, her priorities had changed.

Derryth contemplated it for a moment.

‘How will I save your life if I’m are not around? Astarte may have said that I’m on an unfulfillable quest but Gyden are not always right.’

Conn agreed. ‘This could be your only chance, and you wouldn’t want to miss it. Remember, you hate boats too.’

‘I know’, he said resigning, ‘but boats are so much quicker.’

~oo0oo~

Conn waited in Samriak for the birth of his daughters, and the two very healthy girls arrived without fuss. The eldest was named Wilona after her grandmother, while the younger was named Alodie. Alodie was the name of Efilda’s daughter that had been murdered some years ago.

Now late autumn, he set out for his new demesne with Wystan and Frithlyn in tow. The ride took almost four weeks with the increasingly short days, and after they crossed the river that separated the newly created Caledonia from Sumy they parted, with Conn following a newly created track to Caledonia while Wystan continuing over the mountains into Subari.

Caledonia was now more than an idea; Meshech workmen had arrived from Subari and Meshech and had been busying building docks, houses and warehouses. Sir Eggar had arrived in early autumn and he had escorted half a dozen junks with over five hundred craeftiga and cotters on board; Caledonia was now almost a colony of Meshech – and mostly male. He had mentioned to the other Marquises that his village was on the lookout for female residents, and to send any spare their way. He even paid a bounty. In Samria, women were more abundant than men, so he expected a few. By the end of winter, he had more than a few – almost a thousand, and his menfolk were delighted.

Sir Eggar had also been requested to bring someone to supervise the construction and take on the management of the town in his absence – a volunteer from amongst his Reeves trained in any of his demesne in Lykia. Conn was surprised to find that it was Shona and Peig. Fourteen years had passed since he had saved them for being sent back to the Rakians as theow. Since then they had been his most trusted servants; he had appointed them joint Reeves of Hama, and later Stewards.

Conn embraced them both. He was truly surprised to see them.

‘What are you doing here?’

Shona answered as per usual. ‘We heard that you had a problem and needed people you could trust. We volunteered. We are here to serve, and there is an awful lot to do. We understood that it was an established town – we discovered that it is a new one.’

‘Yes, a change of plans.’ The original request was for someone to be Steward of Subari – Caledonia hadn’t existed when he asked Sir Njil to put the word out.

‘No matter, all the more fun. We brought Rab and his family as well. He wanted a change and we wanted someone we can trust in charge of the wiga.’

Conn always needed people he could trust, and in many ways he was blessed by the support he received. He was doubly happy that Sir Rab had made the trip; he was as good a wiga as any he had ever trained. He had been Wilgar’s second in command in Haran and had stayed behind when Conn invaded Troas. He served as a Captain in the Silekian campaign, but due to injuries, had not participated in the Rakian campaign. Rewarded for his bravery and service with a promotion and a knighthood, Major Rab had returned to Haran to work with his old friends Shona and Peig.