The Marquis (33 page)

They spun around at the sound of his “foreign” voice, and looked to aim their bows but simply weren’t quick enough. Five looked down on arrows imbedded in their chests before they had a chance to notch. One sprinted up a staircase and Conn gave pursuit, diving through a door way as a sword swung harmlessly above him. Standing he engaged quickly, and used the wakizashi to slice the wiga across the throat before he even had a chance to reposition himself. Watching him fall down the staircase clutching his neck, dying, Conn followed along behind. He picked up his swords and helped Derryth collect the others. As they left the Inn to join the procession, their two horses waited for them in the street.

In the main square, Conn had the fyrd fan out to face the main roundhouse. Outside over a hundred Ancuman stood silently as Conn and the Twacuman rode forward.

‘Angatur?’ Conn called out.

A middle aged Ancuman, of the house of Axum, pushed forward. He took a step back as the shock of recognition via his haligdom surprised him. He made his way to several yards in front of Conn. He bowed ever so slightly.

Conn smiled, enjoying his pain. ‘Angatur. My conditions are simple. You are to leave with nothing but what is necessary – you may have your swords. It would not do to separate you from those.’ He then summarily tossed the six swords they had collected some minutes before on to the ground. ‘These six were trying to kill me on the way in. Was that on your orders?’

He went forward and looked at the devices on the handles. He visually paled again. ‘No, not on my orders. I was very clear.’

‘I accept that. Anyway, you can return those swords to their families without honour – do not forget to tell them that they were oath breakers.’

Conn continued. ‘You are to be on the docks in two hours. In four hours you will depart. Consider that the gift of your life is the greatest thing that you take with you.’

Conn’s fyrd summarily spread out and stood guard at every street corner from the roundhouse to the docks and they watched as Ancuman men and women carried their belongings down to the ships. There were over a dozen in harbour and Conn determined that at least two were unnecessary so he kept those.  He then utilized whatever manpower there was to ensure that each vessel was suitably provisioned for the journey home.

With the arrival of the passengers and subsequent loading of each vessel, it wasn’t long before vessels started to head to sea, until Tanais and Sinope was finally free of Ancuman.

With the last vessel gone, Conn headed back to the roundhouse. Inside were all the Merian theow that they had left behind. Conn asked for the Mundbora to be sent to him.

Agtha came forward and bowed. ‘Master, I am yours to command.’

‘Mundbora, you need a new Steward. Who would you choose?’

She was visibly surprised. ‘Are you not going to sell me?’

‘No – given the history of this place, I think it best if we have an easy transition. Anyone you want.’

She brightened quickly, and started to look around the room. It was on her second view that she noticed Osnoth. He didn’t quite look the same in his new uniform. He was trying very hard to be unnoticeable but as a Captain, he couldn’t stand behind his men.

Her face hardened, and she walked up to him. ‘Osnoth?’

‘Yes, Agtha, it is me. What do you think of my…’

She slapped him, and as he reeled back, she turned to Conn. ‘I choose Osnoth il Sinope. When I was sixteen I let him do things to me that he shouldn’t have, and I did things for him that only he enjoyed – because he was going to be my Steward. We made a vow. And when he did become my Steward he rejected me because he preferred to fornicate with that Ancuman witch – and then he sold me to a man whose idea of fornication involves pain. I choose him. Will you grant me my request?’

Osnoth raced forward to plead his case. ‘Sir – I know I have done wrong. But not this, please, I beg of you. She will punish me daily.’

Conn fought to hide his smile. ‘What would Cynilda say – and you asked me if she will forgive you? This is the answer to that question.’

He stood back and took a deep breath. He took a look at his uniform. ‘I really like this uniform. I think it suits me. Do I get to keep it?’

Conn and Derryth both burst into laughter. ‘Of course, Osnoth, you are a Captain in the Merian Fyrd. That doesn’t change.’

‘Very well then.’

Conn turned back to Agtha. ‘Mundbora, I grant your request. But remember that it is important to balance vengeance with forgiveness.’

She smiled ever so slightly. ‘I understand, Steward.’

~oo0oo~

After a few days in Tanais, Conn led the Fyrd all the way back to Sinope. He took with him all the extra theow that the Ancuman had accumulated so that he could find new homes for them. Arriving back, he was surprised to find that none of his Merian theow were waiting for him. Cynrys explained over dinner that they had left some weeks previous – Cynilda had decided to visit Bahal and Dilba, her neighbours, to invite them to the spring gathering that she was going to host in Sinope.

‘And everyone is coming here?’

‘Yes, apparently there will be an auction, festivities, as well as lots of drinking and eating. It is because Lilith is back. It will be the biggest festival in eight hundred years – and all the Mundborak are invited. She even sent a ship to Utika to invite Akelda.’

‘I thought Akelda was the senior Mundborak…’

‘Yes, but you are the richest Steward. Apparently you have to pay for it all. Oh, and something to do with you being the Marquis of Kerch.’

‘Something to look forward to, I guess.’

Cynrys was sitting on one side and another Folgere on the other. Each had a hand on his legs, rubbing it. She turned and whispered. ‘Not as much as we are looking forward to tonight. We have you to ourselves for a week or two. You should have lots of energy – you’ve been away for a month.’

When Conn didn’t respond as eagerly as they’d imagined he would, they scolded him. ‘You have been sampling haven’t you? All those theow that you won from the Ancuman but now intend to sell. I thought you were more honourable than that.’

Conn considered himself honourable – but everyone had a flaw in their personality. Even Derryth and coffee. His was, and had always been, women.

When Cynilda finally returned, she explained the festival in more detail and then made preparations. They had all of autumn and all of winter to do so, and they needed every day for the thousands of arrivals. People stared to arrive after day 360 on the Sytha calendar. Hundreds of them every day.  Every Mundbora would be there with their Stewards, and his hird and wiga. By the time of the equinox, the vast fields that sat to the right of the town was a city of tents.  Conn had extensive temporary latrines and baths built to compensate for the numbers.

All the Mundboraks were given roundhouses within the village, especially built over the winter, and when Akelda arrived she was given the second best roundhouse, as befitted her station.

  They also prepared a huge arena for a Great Meeting of the Assembly of Meria – as Conn discovered it to be called, where every Steward and Mundbora would be in attendance. There was only one demesne not represented – the Steward of Bata had declined and prevented his Mundborak from attending. A few of his Mundbora did attend, however, in secret. The Steward was an Ancuman, and the refusal had not gone down well.

The last Great Meeting had been held hundreds of years previous; but all were in attendance because Lilith was back and they wanted to pay homage to the Marquis of Kerch.

When the meeting came to pass, Akelda stood to speak. ‘As first amongst equals, it is for my duty to remind us all of the history of Meria. Before the great city of Kerch fell, and the Cirice of our beloved Lilith was entombed, the Casere, who had united all of Meria and saved all of Sytha, created his son Marquis of Kerch. He did not make him our Healdend but he did make him our guardian, and our protector, in times of need. The Casere said that we would find a way to rule ourselves, and after the great wave, we did. Those of the Blood have ruled with temperance ever since. We have done as we were guided by our beloved Lilith, who has returned to us, and she has expressed her gratitude. The Marquis of Kerch has also returned because he is needed by our people – to protect us again from those that would take away what things we love and those that we love.’

She stopped and turned toward Conn. ‘Marquis, we know you go to war again. As well as a celebration of the New Year, this is also a gathering of the clans to build a fyrd. With the guidance of the Casere’s beloved companions, the Twacuman, your fyrd already contains wiga from Pontia, Larsa and Samria. It will now as many wiga from Meria as you desire. May they all die with honour…’

More clapping and cheering.

‘We also look to you to correct the insult committed to the people of Meria by the Steward of Bata. I would lead a fyrd there myself but you have persuaded us of a different course. Our honour rests in your hands.’

It was a rousing speech and it erupted into more large cheers and toasts and they didn’t stop drinking for two days.

When Conn found Brictdred later, he reminded him that he said a raising of the clans took years, not weeks.

‘Did I know then that you were going to revive our Gyden out of eight hundred years of slumber?’

Prior to the meeting, the theow auctions had been held and literally hundreds of women found new homes. Many went to Kerch as they had a sudden desire to increase their population. They also had plenty of gold.

One transaction Conn wasn’t expecting. The Steward of Dilba, Vindur, came to see him. He had with him his son, who he introduced as Rikkur, his Folctoga. After an exchange of pleasantries, they came to the point.

‘Marquis, you have a theow of Blood, Wilenda il Bahal, in your hird. My son would like to purchase her from you. I am prepared to sponsor him.’

Taken back, Conn looked around the roundhouse. Wilenda was present – which he thought unusual because there was a lot happening outside.

‘I must say I am surprised at the request.’ He turned to Wilenda as she sat in the furthest corner of the room. ‘Wilenda, come here please.’

The young woman dutifully came across and sat at his side. She smiled wistfully at the visitors.  He addressed her again. ‘Do you know of this offer?’

She looked up. ‘I do – I have known Rikkur since childhood. We did discuss him buying me when I was nine or ten.’

‘What about our son?’

Rikkur interrupted. ‘Your son will be like my son.’

As Conn paused. Rikkur continued. ‘Steward, I am prepared to offer twenty thousand Ryals.’

Before Conn could answer, Wilenda did. ‘Rikkur, I’m insulted. Your sons and your daughters will be siblings to Eaorls, Marquis, Stewards, Mundbora, Healdend and Wealdend all over this land and on some other one. Surely you can do better than that.’

Conn was going to add Barons, Thanes, Lairds and Knights to the list but he considered that showing off. Instead he said nothing as they bartered. Finally they arrived at forty thousand Ryals. She looked at Conn. ‘I’m still a little insulted but I’ll get over it. Will you accept his offer?’

‘Is that what you want?’

‘It is. I have enjoyed our time together but I would like to be released.’

‘Wilenda, if that is what you want, of course, you have my blessings.’

With a big smile, she stood up, kissed him and walked out with Rikkur and his father. Derryth had joined them for the last half of the haggling.

‘Let me get this right.’ He mused, with a mischievous smile on his face. ‘In Meria you have been continually bossed around and seconded guessed by women, and now one has rejected you in favour of another man. I just want the facts accurate when I tell the story.’

Conn sent for a refill to his drink. He was feeling quite unusual. ‘You will embellish it anyway. Probably say it was two women who rejected me.’

Derryth laughed. ‘Two! I was going for at least five. Much more impact with bigger numbers.’

After twenty days of frivolity, everyone departed Sinope, and Conn started to work with the new Merian members of his fyrd. He only selected five hundred wiga from those amongst the thousand plus wiga who had offered their swords. He justified it with the number of Kerchian greys he had.

Three weeks later, he and Derryth returned to the roundhouse to find that Cynilda had convened a meeting of his officers and they were waiting for him. They sat down very confused.

‘We will be ready to depart in two weeks.’

Conn was even more surprised. ‘Ready to leave when…’

‘I said in two weeks. I have checked everything and everything is in place for us to leave. I presume you wish to continue your journey to Sytha?’

‘I do but what about Eowen? She can’t travel.’ Eowen was pregnant.

‘She is staying. I am appointing her Mundborak in my stead; until I return.’

‘Am I selling her?’

‘No – she is fine staying as your theow. With Kelinda also pregnant, she will stay too, and she can help her make her offerings to her Gyden while you are absent. She is very skilled. Eowen will surely find a few wiga happy to be pleasured by her should she need it. I have yet to find any man not happy to see a woman on her knees before them.’

None of the men there argued with that. Hallvi nodded in agreement.

She looked around the room. ‘And despite the amount of seed that you have planted, none of the others are pregnant so we can all travel. Lilith is watching over you, so now is a good as time as ever.’ She stood up to leave. ‘Oh, how long will it take us to get to Sytha anyway?’

Certainly someone was watching over him. He had never spent so much time in bed over the last few years with women without them getting pregnant. It sometimes only took a single day, and he was certainly not practicing any form of birth control. Conn was starting to think that he was actually running out of working “seed” when Eowen and the Kelinda fell pregnant. ‘As far as I can tell; seven weeks. Probably more.’

‘That far? Very well. And you are sure I cannot kill the Steward of Bata. His insult to the clans by his non-attendance should not go unpunished.’

‘I see why you want to travel now – you wish to speak to the Steward of Bata… I said I’d take care of it.’

She smiled mischievously. ‘There is that – and also Kytha. I would like to know of her wellbeing.’

After she’s left to boss more people around, Conn looked at his Colonel and Majors. They gave a silent “what could we do” look while Derryth broke into laughter.

~oo0oo~

As predicted, two weeks later Conn said his farewells and headed to Dilba, where Vindur welcomed them and then rode with him as far as the border into Bata. Conn had assured him that he wasn’t required to provide wiga.

Vindur had a warning.

‘The last envoy I sent returned with a demand not to send any others. The Steward has a larger fyrd than mine with a dozen Ancuman wiga so I took him at his word. I have heard since that he has raised more wiga for his fyrd from his Stewards. It would seem that he intends to prevent contact between Bata and the rest of Meria.’

‘Is that not an unusual thing to be doing?’

‘It is; I have no idea of his motives.’

‘Does he know about my fyrd?’

Vindur smiled. ‘He definitely knows you are coming, but not the size of it. There were a few from Bata in my village and they left soon after you arrived – in haste. They masquerade as cotter but they are spies.’

They were riding up a slope in lightly covered terrain. 

‘The border is near here,’ Vindur continued, ‘there is a river just over this hill, and the demesne of Bata starts on the other side of the river. If he means to stop you, he will be there waiting.’

‘Is it deep?’

‘In places, but there are many fording locations. A difficult place to defend but better than anywhere else because the land between the river and his town is pretty flat. He should not be starting a war anywhere.’

Leaving the fyrd out of view, Conn rode ahead with Vindur. From the crest, they looked down on a motley collection of wiga milling on the other side. Several hundred but totally inadequate.

‘Let’s try something.’ Conn rode back and gave orders to Brictdred, recently appointed Colonel of his fyrd. In thirty minutes they were set, and Conn signalled the drummer. Almost immediately, a roar went out and Conn’s fyrd charged over the hill in a single massive line; charging towards the river bank.

Four hundred screaming men with lances charging at you when you are totally inexperienced would have to be a terrifying experience – and it had the desired effect. By the time they hit the river’s edge, where Conn’s wiga halted, there were very few there to oppose them. The Bata wiga gathered to thwart their entry had simply fled, and quite noticeably the squad of Ancuman were the first to turn and run.

Conn continued forward, crossing the river with a single company and cantering up behind wiga trying to run away on foot as they had either fallen off or their horses had fled without them. One of the first they encountered was recognizably the Steward, deserted by his men at arms; though a company milled some distance in front of them undecided about what to do about their lost leader.

Conn and Derryth trotted up beside him as he jogged. It was pretty comical as he continued puffing and huffing despite the fact that he had nowhere to go.

Conn called out in frustration. ‘Stop now or I will put an arrow in your foot.’

The man stopped, and sat down breathless on a fallen tree. ‘Okay, I surrender. I admit, I’m a disgrace – I should be fitter than this – and I even dropped my sword.’

‘You are Dagarr, aren’t you? Steward of Bata.’

Regaining his breath, he answered. ‘Yes, I am.’ He studied Conn. ‘I gather you must be the Feorrancund that is so despised by all of Kishdah. I thought you were in Samria. I heard of the defeat of our unbeatable cavalry.’ He shook his head. ‘Not that they can make that claim anymore.’

‘Your Ancuman wiga didn’t stay to protect you?’

He stood. ‘No. I not worthy of the sacrifice of Axum wiga. ‘

‘So you are not of Axum?’ Conn knew the answer. He didn’t wear a haligdom because Conn couldn’t feel it.

He shook his head. ‘Not totally – my father is; but my mother is of Saba.’

‘Is that why you are not wearing the amulet that the Axum normally wear.’

He stood and laughed. ‘Wrong side of the family to be worthy of such gifts.’

‘Steward, you should be grateful. Not having it has saved your life today. Tell me what the Ancuman wiga will be doing?’

‘I do not command them; they command me. I assume that they will be heading to the harbour. They have a ship there. They can’t cross into Pontia – the Marquis of Kucha is no friend of us Ancuman.’

‘Well, they won’t get far in a ship. I have two ships off the coast. If they don’t surrender, they will die.’

‘One can only hope.’ Dagarr seemed to have little time for them. He noticed Derryth and the siblings. ‘And you have Twacuman riding with you. No wonder the Axum are scared of you. Can I ask why you are here?’

‘Let’s talk as we ride.’ They had collected a horse for him, and he rode with them as they continued to the village of Bata. They collected the Merian squad as they rode; they were very ashamed and they rode along behind in silence.

Conn continued.  ‘I’m the Steward of Sinope and you didn’t respond to an invitation. Some people are very upset about that. They want your head on a pike.’