The Bretwalda (The Casere Book 4) (3 page)

‘So you really are my father? Alana said that she thought we might be sisters – but she didn’t know of me. She tells me that I have a lot of sisters and brothers.’

‘Yes, I really am your father. Alana didn’t know because I didn’t know. Perhaps you were safer that way.’

Asbera actually smiled. ‘Yes, I gather you are not very popular amongst the Axum.’

‘Even less today.’

‘I’m not sure if it is possible for them to like you any less.’ Derryth added in cold comfort. ‘Although those from the Southern Isles might dislike you less.’

Conn gave him a scowling look before turning his attention back to Siga. She told them that she had been on Aeaea for three years; when she was fifteen a trading cog ran into trouble next to her home, and she was able to swim out and sneak aboard; after it got to Aeaea she disappeared into the forest.

‘Whose idea was it for you to become a stowaway?’

‘My grandfather’s. He told me to come here and wait.’

‘Wait for what?’ Conn asked.

‘He didn’t say – just wait, he said. I would know the answer when it was there for me to see. I didn’t question him.’

‘Curiosity certainly never killed a Twacuman cat.’ Conn added dryly.

She looked at him curiously. ‘Are you the Feorhhyrde?’ She then questioned Derryth. ‘Is he the Feorhhyrde?’

Derryth nodded, with a grin. ‘He is. I find it hard to believe too.’

She looked at him strangely; Derryth was developing a so called sense of humour and it troubled his kin. ‘When I saw so many of my kin here in the forest, I was very confused because they are armed. Kin who are theow are never armed. Then I remembered a story my grandfather told me about a Priecuman who became the Feorhhyrde. Only the Feorhhyrde would have armed kinsmen.’

Conn was confused. He looked at Derryth. “How would someone in Neritum know of a Priecuman Feorhhyrde?’

‘The wind.’

‘The wind told him that the Feorhhyrde was a Priecuman? Over an ocean?’

‘The wind travels a lot further than your pigeons, and tells a lot more. Useless creatures.’ He paused. ‘But I don’t think it is you that he was thinking of.’

‘One of those from Meshech?’

He shrugged. ‘Or even Sytha. That I cannot say.’

~oo0oo~

They sent the three young women away with Kutidi and Hallvi to have a bath, while Derryth left with Dagrun on his new ship. It was a cog, previously used as a fishing boat. They only knew that because Dagrun had already complained a lot of the smell.

They would be back by evening, with the weapons. As they waited, Conn assisted Volund in assembling and sorting his wiga. With three squads and three Corporals, Volund was promoted to Captain.

By evening Dagrun had returned with the weapons. Unloaded they were distributed amongst the men and within a relatively short period of time, Volund had fifty well-armed wiga at his command.

Volund looked at Conn curiously as the men were assembled. ‘What makes you think we won’t turn against you?’

‘The Ancuman can never turn a weapon gifted to them against the giver. It is part of your code.’

He laughed. ‘The things you know, amaze me. We just need some horses. We have fifteen.’

‘I’m working on that. Will the Jarl have heard by now?’

‘He should have. Rumours spread fast. Bad ones even faster.’

~oo0oo~

The last night she would spend as a theow, Kutidi sat with Conn in the bedroom she had purloined in the inn.

‘Sarun will enjoy having a big sister just like him. And you have another one out there all alone. There is still much for you to do, Conn il Taransay, before you too can rest.’

‘Just when I think I have things under control… oh, well, let’s get some sleep before the morning. It promises to be an interesting day.’

Kutidi smiled at him, grabbing his hand, and drawing him towards her. ‘This is our last night together – I wouldn’t be planning on getting much sleep.

Despite the lack of sleep, Conn stood with Derryth as the sun peeped through the trees. Siga had been up and about already, and Derryth watched the young woman as she disappeared in and out of the trees.

‘She’s very good – I think she would be almost impossible to track.’

‘I know’, Derryth added, ‘the Iladions are in despair. They haven’t seen anyone as good since… well… us. And I think she is better than… us.’

‘Something else we shouldn’t tell anyone.’

Siga returned in a run. She was fast as well. ‘Perhaps fifty... sixty horses ... about ten minutes away.’

Conn’s second rumour was that the folgere had been kidnapped or murdered by wiga from Alwa and the Southern Isles – and they were now planning to rebel against the Jarl or execute the folgere at sunrise. They were designed to be confusing and partly true. He expected a response from the Jarl and he got what he expected – a show of force.

Conn nodded to Dagrun, who paced nervously in front of the inn with Volund, and then disappeared into the trees.

Dagrun was no hero – and he had to play the part today or the plan wouldn’t work. Conn and the Twacuman were not to be seen; felt, definitely, but not seen.

Within a few minutes, the small town filled with riders; wiga with chainmail and bows. The leader was a short man, who was breathing hard from the exertion of the ride. He barked orders and his men spread themselves around.

On cue, Dagrun emerged from the inn.

‘What is all this noise?’ he demanded.

The short man was affronted that anyone would speak to him like that. He went red with rage.

‘It’s you again – and how dare you speak to me like that? You forget who I am.’

Dagrun paused for a moment. ‘No – I haven’t forgotten; short fat guy who lives uninvited in my stone town house.’

‘Your stone house? Insolent whelp! I will have you flogged for that comment. I don’t care who you are. Bind him!’ He ordered.

Dagrun held up his hands to stop their movement. ‘Wait, wait – don’t you want to know about the rebellion? I know who is behind it – and who killed the folgere.’

‘They are all dead? I heard that they were being held for ransom.’

‘No, they are all dead.’

The Jarl waved his wiga away. ‘Speak.’ he ordered.

‘Well, no one from here killed the folgere – some kind of insanity I think – they attacked each other. We buried them, and I was going to tell the person in charge what had happened and then I realized he already knew.’

‘I’m the person in charge – I didn’t know! And you speak lies. I will have you boiled in oil.’

‘You were in charge yesterday – I’m going to be in charge tomorrow – and I already knew.’

‘Fool!’ the Jarl yelled. ‘You go too far. Kill him’, he ordered, and as two men went to draw their bows; they fell from their horses, dead. The Jarl looked around in confusion, and Volund and his men emerged from between the buildings. ‘Traitors and usurpers! Kill them all, kill them all’, he ordered, screaming as he wheeled his horse around in circles.

The Jarl and his men didn’t really know what hit them – they thought they were fighting fifty men, but they didn’t see Conn and the Twacuman in the shadows and other secluded places. For every arrow they fired, they got three in return, and within moments, all but six men lay dead. They were young men and had gone to ground as soon as the fighting started. Volund and his men gathered the horses – they had now solved their horse problem. Mounted, Volund rode over to Conn and Derryth.

‘I presume that you will not be here when I get back?’

‘No – it is well over time for us to leave. It is better that no one knows that we were here. I expect that you will ensure that all think that what has been done was done by Dagrun.’

Dagrun bowed ceremoniously. ‘I thought it had been!’

Conn smiled. ‘But Kutidi will stay. If anything bad happens to her…’

Volund agreed. ‘We will protect her with our lives … all of Alwa will. I’ve seen what happens to people who get on your bad side.’ He held out his hand. ‘Farewell, Conn il Taransay, I don’t understand why, but even I can see that we are destined to meet again.’

With that he called the small fyrd out, and they headed for town. The fact that they were on horseback should get them inside the castle walls before anyone knew what was going on; after that the fact that the Jarl was dead would get them a quick surrender. His dead body over a horse was their ticket in – telling everyone about the death of the Jarl in a battle with the folgere. The survivors were there as witnesses with bows aimed at their backs.

Volund would then take control of the castle, and effectively the island. Dagrun and Kutidi would soon follow.

‘You know,’ Dagrun said as he approached Conn, ‘I thought I did a good job today.’

‘You did, Dagrun, you did. And you will soon be Jarl. I hope you learned from your past experiences about how to rule.’

Suddenly serious, Dagrun nodded. ‘Indeed I have. I will make you proud.’

Conn smiled. ‘And Kutidi has my approval to remove your penis with a blunt knife if you get out of control.’

Dagrun quickly looked at Kutidi who smiled an evil smile.

‘I know I cannot do any of this without the Jarl.’

‘I hope you remember that. Anyway, I must be leaving; soon. Would you have a ship you could sell me?’

‘Why I do – just bought it yesterday – small thing – about fifty tonnes. Guess I don’t need it anymore.’

Conn handed him another bag of gold and silver ryals. ‘Will this be enough?’

Dagrun’s eyes bulged. It was ten times what he paid – and he paid over the odds.

‘That will be enough. More than enough. In fact…’

Conn interrupted. ‘Don’t forget that you have to pay me back what you owe for the loan yesterday…’ Dagrun handed back ten gold coins, ‘and you need to buy Kutidi’s freedom. She is very valuable so that will be another five gold.’

Dagrun handed back the required coins, and the pouch still held a small fortune.

Conn turned to Kutidi and hugged her. ‘You are now a free woman, Kutidi. I wish it were in better circumstances, but…’

‘These are fine, Conn il Taransay, these are fine. Farewell, say goodbye to my … to our … son. Tell him I will be waiting here for him when he is ready to fulfil his destiny.’

‘You have a son - together? Dagrun was surprised. ‘That can’t be a good thing for someone.’

By the time Conn had farewelled Kutidi, everyone was aboard the cog and it was ready to leave. Conn ran and leapt on, and turned to wave at the bemused Dagrun standing at Kutidi’s side. He was going to miss her.

~oo0oo~

The cog slid out of harbour and headed for the open sea. Njil would be waiting for them, and they would rearrange the crews to take both vessels back to Meshech or Sytha. First, he had to work out how to get to Neritum.

Njil easily accommodated the first request but was confused on the second. ‘Do we know where the island is?’

‘Nope – no idea. But we have to go there. I hope that Siga can help.’

Siga had been looking at the maps that the cartographer had created. He was updating constantly and it took little time for the girl to understand his markings. ‘I know it took four nights on the boat – my grandfather gave me food for six days, and he said that such things were important to remember.’ The cartographer drew a circle with his protractor around Aeaea based on the eight knots of the cog. ‘And that the sun always rose over the right hand side of the boat. I hid in the cargo hold at the front and an air hole shone a beam of light every morning. It was always hitting the same spot. It wasn’t square.’

She drew a diagram of what she meant.

‘When was this?’

‘I left forty-five days after the beginning of the new cycle.’

With that information, Njil was able to plot a course.

Njil drew a line south-south-west of their current position. ‘Somewhere around here then; at least it’s a place to start looking.’

‘It shouldn’t be too hard when we get closer’, Siga added, ‘we have a fire mountain. Sometimes it has smoke coming from its top.’

Conn looked at Derryth. ‘An active volcano? Why is nothing ever simple?’

Chapter 3
Siga il Neritum

Giving coordinates to the master of the cog, both vessels turned south, skirting around the island to avoid running into more fishing boats, and set sail for Neritum.

As they travelled he had Alana tell them more about her ordeal. She told him that none of the folgere had ‘touched’ her – aside from the actual kidnapping itself. She did feel a little unclean from having the head Folgere talking to her all the time about what was going to happen to her. They told her that she was to be pure for her offering in the cirice in Kishdah. Once at sea, she chose to stop fighting – and became very compliant. On the boat they had other captives – girls and boys who they had kidnapped from Pontia, and they used them in their daily rituals and devotions to their Gyden. Alana wasn’t sure, but it seemed to her that occasionally one of the young captives would die during these rituals – she was locked below at those times, so did not see.

However, it was her compliance that caused them to drop their guard and not bind her as they headed into port. She knew what she needed to do. She knew that it had to be the right distance – too long and they would catch her in the water – too short and they get to land too soon. She chose to act when they were about 300 yards from the harbour, and she ran and dived; right over the head of the rowers. She had been lucky that she missed all the oars, but she thought it worth the chance. Once in the water, she swam with all her might for the shore – and as soon as she had pulled herself out of the water, not knowing what to do next, Asbera appeared; telling her to follow her quickly.

Asbera said that she had watched the boat arrive, and had seen someone dive in – and she knew about the folgere, and was more than happy to help anyone escape their clutches. They then joined up with Siga, and spent the rest of the time hiding. Because they knew that the folgere would be searching everywhere, they left the port a day after Alana’s arrival; and headed north to hide in the forest. When they heard the rumours about the ‘fish girl’, it had seemed strange, so decided to investigate. Then they saw the Twacuman and Alana had recognized people she knew from Sytha. The rest Conn knew.

~oo0oo~

It was midday on the third day before they knew that they were on the right course, when a plume of smoke was easily seen in the distance. On the fourth day, everyone was standing on deck as they released the anchors and came to a stop. With no harbour or docks, they had to spend some time finding a suitable place to be able launch the whaleboats and land personnel.

Njil joined them on the deck as they were anchored in a sheltered cove.

‘What next?’

Siga was at Conn’s side as he stood at the rail.

‘Wait here’, she said, and dived overboard.

Alana followed, and the two swam the hundred yards to shore. A miffed Asbera waited; she couldn’t swim.

Conn looked at Derryth as the girls swam away. He looked back. ‘I didn’t know!’

With nothing to do but wait, they sat on the deck watching. The whaleboats sat rocking in the water ready to head to shore, and Asbera sat at Conn’s side asking questions. Conn reached into his bag of jewels and soon found what he was looking for.

‘I think you should have this.’ He handed over a white gemstone, a haligdom, on a leather necklace.

‘It is beautiful. What is it?’

‘It once belonged to one of Nobatia – just like your mother – but this one belongs to Ishtar. Ishtar would want you to have it, I’m sure.’

Of the personal effects of the Ancuman wiga who had died at his hand or because of him, Conn had arranged for their swords to be sent back to Kishdah, as a sign of respect to their
bushido
, but had kept all the haligdoms. Most were in a locked case, but a few he kept with him. This one he had because it was only one of three that had changed colour – no longer black, it was clear, just like a diamond, though Conn was still positive it was an emerald.

‘Isn’t Ishtar banished? All Ancuman follow Ashtoreth only.’

‘Not all – your mother followed Ishtar; and I think you should too – all of Nobatia followed Ishtar in the past. Besides, Ashtoreth doesn’t like me much.’

Derryth saw the interchange. ‘Feorhhyrde, do you know what you are doing. Do you remember what happened to Fainche?’

‘It will be fine. Ishtar is different.’

Derryth laughed resignedly. ‘Says he who has never met Ishtar.’

Conn hung the necklace around her neck, and they both saw the white stone flare slightly as it touched Asbera’s light ebony skin. Asbera flinched; and her surprise then turned into tears. She started to bawl; but Conn could see that it was not pain – just joy – he could just hear Ishtar in the edges of his mind as she caressed the soul of the girl. It was a homecoming for both of them. He drew her to him and held her tight.

After an hour, she became so exhausted from the experience that she finally went to sleep; her head on Conn’s lap.

Derryth admonished him, ‘Told you that you didn’t know what you were doing. That is one hell of a gift – I think you should have prepared her better.’

He stroked the girl’s head as she slept, and nodded. ‘Somehow I knew that she would be fine. There was no easy way to explain the unexplainable. She will be fine. Anyway tell me about Neritum.’

‘There is not much to tell. Neritum is the mother to all Twacuman; before we were here, we were somewhere that is unknown to even us. But we were here a long time before the Ancuman drove our ancestors away. Of course it was a much bigger land before the waters rose.’

~oo0oo~

They waited all day and all night. Though never worried, the lack of activity did play on Conn and Derryth’s minds as they paced up and down the deck. Derryth distracted himself by teaching Asbera archery. She was recovered from her experience and Conn was delighted to find that she took to archery like a duck to water, and was soon hitting targets from one end of the ship to another.

A restless night found them sitting on deck as the sun rose. It was behind them so the shadow of the ship’s mask slowly crossed the water and licked the edge of the beach. It was an eerie silence.

‘I wonder how much longer – I can’t imagine she wanted us to wait days. I hate waiting…’

‘I know – you keep reminding me.’ Derryth was peering over the rails. ‘What’s that?’

Conn stood up to look intently at the tree line. The sentries were also studying the horizon – and their eyesight was better than Conn’s.

‘People ... a lot of them.’

Conn, Derryth and Asbera jumped into a whaleboat and headed for shore. By the time they arrived, Alana was at the water’s edge waiting for her father.

‘This is so amazing. They need your help.’

‘I suspected there was a reason for me being here.’

Conn and Derryth walked with Alana to the group of about fifty people waiting for him. At the head was an ancient; Conn had no idea how old he was but he was older than anyone he had ever seen.

Derryth went to the old man and kneeled in front of him. He laid his hands on Derryth’s head, and Derryth placed his hands on top of his. It was a moving ritual. They spoke for a few minutes before they walked towards Conn. The old man was introduced as Einulfur.

He spoke in the Elfina language. ‘Are you are the one that is called Feorhhyrde.’

‘Yes, that is true.’ He didn’t seem surprised that Conn understood him or spoke back in Elfina.

‘It seems that you have many other names too – and yet none know who you really are.’

Conn smiled. ‘That, I guess, would also be true.’

‘All that really matters is that you are here in time.’ The old man looked around. ‘And these are your children?’

‘Two of … many.’

‘I see one has a mother of the Priecuman and another of the Ancuman. I see that she wears the sign of Ishtar. I have felt her returning. She has been gone for some time. Do you have a child with a Twacuman?’

‘I do, a son.’

The old man nodded. ‘That is good – you have completed the circle.’

‘Does that have significance?’

‘Possibly. It has not been done before so who knows what its significance might be.’

Conn changed the subject. ‘I understand that you need our help?’

‘Yes – this island is dying. The fire mountain that made the island is coming back to life, and in a short time it will bring forth fresh fire and ash. After so many years, it can no longer be home to the Twacuman.’

‘I see. So how many people are there to go with us?’

‘About eighty. Some of us will not leave. We are too old and with the younger ones gone, we will join our ancestors.’

‘What is the problem that Alana mentioned?’

‘A couple of years ago the fire mountain sent out smoke and it brought some unwanted attention. It allowed Siga to escape but it also reminded the Ancuman where our home is. A raiding party has arrived and they have captured several of our people. We are so few that we cannot fight back.’

‘I see – and where is the raiding party now?’

‘Over on the other side of the island.’

‘And you’d have us go and retrieve them from the raiding party?’

He nodded. ‘It is best that our people go with you rather than the Ancuman.’

Conn called Derryth and Njil over and explained the situation. They headed back to the schooner to collect weapons and more wiga.

Conn looked at the tree line. ‘How long will it take us to get there?’

‘Two nights. I will send my grandson to guide you.’

He called over a youngish man of indistinguishable age and introduced him as Kaltor.

‘He was near the troop when it was captured. He can direct you there.’

Within half an hour, Kaltor led Conn and ten men into the trees. They were dressed to travel quickly, and only carried minimal food for the trip. Despite his opposition, Conn’s daughters insisted on going as well.

The island was idyllic looking; but to the right and left were the two mountain peaks – both volcanic. One billowed a plume of white smoke. Between the two peaks, the land was heavily treed, and this was where they had to travel. Kaltor led them at a fast pace. As the darkness approached, they set up camp. Conn sat and ate with his daughters while Kaltor sat with the Twacuman exchanging stories. The girls were very curious about everything Conn had done and it seemed that he had a lot to tell them.

Next morning, they headed out and by afternoon they were down the mountain.

Kaltor held up his hand and indicated that they should stop and be quiet. They melded into the forest. Conn crept to where Kaltor was hiding.

‘What do we have?’

‘At least five – men – about a hundred yards that way.’

‘Only five? Okay – I’ll deal with them.’

Conn crept down the side of the hill until he could see the men. They were resting; it seemed that they had been searching.

‘…well, I don’t know where else to look. We found the village and there was no one there anymore. They must be hiding somewhere. We can’t wait forever – we’ll run out of supplies. We’ll have to settle with what we have.’

‘That doesn’t make it worthwhile. Twenty makes us rich … ten just covers expenses… fifty makes us very rich. We have just fifteen.’

‘And only five women… more women would have been better.’

Conn decided that enough was enough. He threw a rock across the camp, and the five men jumped up.

‘What’s that?’ they asked.

Conn stepped out. ‘That would be me.’

They turned to his voice; ‘And who in the name of the Gyden are you? You are not Twacuman.’

‘No,’ Conn answered and he drew his two swords, ‘I am Conn il Taransay, Marquis of Kerch. I’m surprised that you haven’t heard of me.’

They nodded their heads. ‘The Feorrancund. Yes, we have heard of you. But what are you doing here?’

‘Someone said that Ancuman were making theow of Twacuman on the island of Neritum and I decided that I shouldn’t let it happen. So here I am.’

They had taken their swords from their scabbards and circled Conn. ‘Stranger, you have taken a very long trip to die on a deserted island.’

‘So it may seem.’

For all of that, it was fairly quick and brutal – greater odds brought out the efficient and effective nature of Conn’s fighting skills. By the time the last one was dead, Derryth had arrived with the rest of the wiga.

Kaltor was shaking his head. ‘Derryth said he would just get in the way. I did not believe him but now I understand – if not completely.’

Conn left wiga behind to bury the fallen and collect the booty, as the rest travelled further down the mountain. They found the rest of the group easily enough; about thirty men guarded the captives while another twenty were packing and preparing the boat for departure. It seemed that they were going to cut their losses, and were just waiting for the return of the patrols; some were returning as they watched.

Conn sent bowmen along the tree line. He wanted to do this without endangering any of the captives, and as usual it was better to have them come to you than the opposite. A lot of the Ancuman were not wiga – they were sailors and it would be unfair to kill them unnecessarily.