The Aebeling (15 page)

Conn voice was cold. ‘Who are you to demand that we turn over people who have claimed sanctuary in our hall?’

‘I am the Folctoga of Salvia. The people who claim sanctuary in your hall have no right to do so – they are theow.’

‘According to who?’ Conn asked rhetorically.

‘According to who? Who?’ According to the rules that have governed Meshech for five hundred years.’

Conn shrugged. ‘Be that as it may, but not according to me. I’m giving them sanctuary.’ Ignoring him Conn continued on. ‘Which brings me to my grievance – according to me, you have committed a crime against humanity.’ Conn pulled up the stallion. ‘How do you intend to satisfy your debt?’

‘Crime against humanity?’ the leader scoffed, ‘What is that?’

‘That is when you kill unarmed refugees by shooting arrows into their backs.’

‘They are not refugees – they are escaped theow, and as such, I can treat them in any way that I see fit.’ he replied.

‘Well, again, that is according to you. But not according to me.’ Conn paused, ‘I prefer to make my own rules. So I see you have two choices. You can surrender, or’, he paused again for effect; ‘die. A simple choice – which do you choose?’

The Folctoga looked at Conn in total disbelief. He also looked around at the ten plus rider that encircled them. He voice quivered in rage and not a little fear. ‘You seem to have forgotten that we have hostages; it is you who needs to lay down your arms…’

Conn shook his head, ‘That is not going to happen. Surrender or die.’

Desperate to show his willingness to carry out his threat, the Folctoga raised his hand to hold the knife closer to the girl’s neck, but before he could do anything else, Conn had put an arrow through his head – drawing and firing in a fluid motion, the arrow finding a two inch gap in his faceplate. The act of marksmanship stunned everyone – they all watched in silence as the Rakian toppled from the horse, stone dead. Moments later, the rest of the Rakians reached their decisions. Some dropped their hostages to the ground and raced for a gap in the wall of Conn’s men – these all died. Other dropped their hostages, their weapons and held their hands high. They got to live.

Quickly surrounded by wiga, the Rakians were instructed to dismount, and then sat against the palisade walls, under guard. Others collected the dead and the horses while the gate opened and Annisa walked out to Conn; they embraced.

She wiped a tear from her face. ‘I am so glad to see you; I did not know when you would be back. I had a feeling things were going to end badly. There are about thirty people inside – they got here not minutes before the Rakians did, so we knew they were coming – but…’

Conn went to the prisoners and spoke to Wilgar. ‘We need to send one back with a message – pick the oldest one.’ Wilga chose one from the twelve men that sat on the ground looking glum.

The wiga was soon mounted and Conn gave him a message. ‘Tell your pretend Eaorl that if he or his men ever sets foot into Lykia again, I will personally slit his gut open with a blunt kitchen knife, and drink his ale as he bleeds to death in agony on his keep floor. I don’t care if he brings the Healdend of Rakia with him. May sure you tell him every word.’

With Conn’s message etched into his brain, the man galloped out of the village for home. Conn sent two riders to tail him and make sure that he did return home. He indicated to the prisoners.

‘Bring them inside – untie them first.’

The ‘Eaorl’ of Salvia had had a very bad day; as well as the ten who died; he had another ten as who were now Conn’s prisoners, and whilst he was within his rights pursuing the theow, it would always be a risk as he was “invading” a nearby country. Normal procedure would be to send a messenger.

Of the prisoners, three were obviously gentry, and they would be the most aware of the law. Their treatment would be very galling to them; but for the moment, they kept their opinions to themselves. The sudden and indiscriminate demise of their Folctoga was probably vivid in their memories.

Inside the renovated hall, they were sat at a table, and ale and food was brought for them all to consume. Hesitant at first, they soon started to eat and then within minutes, they had finished their plates. Conn allowed them more ale and a second serving before he spoke.

‘So tell me why three Rakian scions of gentry – Eaorls, if I’m not mistaken, doing in Salvia? It is a long way from home.’

The prisoners looked at each other but none chose to answer.

Conn admonished them. ‘Gentlemen, talking will give you a chance to get back to your families; not answering my questions will make for a trial and execution for the murder of innocent people.’

One interrupted, ‘We didn’t kill anyone. We were just there – we had no part in those deaths. You have no right to keep us prisoner.’ The others shook their heads in agreement.

‘Your words mean little to me – only your conscience will know if you were involved in the death of the Lykians. As for taking you prisoner, as Thane, I have judged that you have broken my laws – I have a new one about not being able to use unharmed people as target practise – and I seek wergild for those infringements. We counted ten people dead. You are welcome to have me charged with false imprisonment at some later stage. Bring an entire Fyrd if you want; I’ll enjoy the exercise.’

They looked at the ground and wanted to argue the case but recognised the futility. They seemed to recognize that this was no ordinary Thane.

Conn continued. ‘Okay, let’s start with names. I am Conn il Taransay, Thane of Hama. This is Annisa il Gozan, Burhgerefa of Haran, and Wilgar il Melnik, Folctoga in Hama.’

One looked at the others and cleared his throat and started to talk. ‘My name is Ipan il Lipara, and I am the third son of Eaorl Ibor.’ He pointed to the others and introduced them, and ended with the other two gentry. ‘This is Leodhas il Syra, grandson of the Eaorl; and that is Brys il Akarah, cousin of the Eaorl.’ Wilgar laughed when he introduced the last one, and he was put out.

‘What is so funny, Silekian?’ he demanded standing, forgetting where he was.

Wilgar answered sardonically, ‘It’s funny because my grandmother was the daughter of an Eaorl of Akarah – we must be kin.’ Brys sat down quickly.

Conn continued, ‘As for wergild, I’m thinking perhaps two hundred thousand Ryals.’

Ipan was shocked. ‘Two hundred … but they were just theow…’

‘But they were murdered in cold blood – and the wergild is much higher for that... according to my rules.’

The enormity of their situation started to register and there was now genuine shock and resignation on the faces of the three nobles. The eight ordinary wiga knew that they were never going to be ransomed anyway.

Conn sat back on his chair, and mused. ‘The leader of your troop didn’t seem to be the type to be related to any Eaorls.’

Ipan decided to keep speaking, this time with disdain. ‘No, he isn’t – or wasn’t; he’s a former wiga who decided to make his fortune on the campaign...’ he trailed off, feeling he had gone too far already.

‘Look, you may as well talk, you are not going back until I let you go; no one will pay that much wergild for you. Alternatively, I might let you go tomorrow branded as theow?

The look on their faces showed that death would be better than having a slave brand. Conn prompted them with a question – with a long intro. ‘Let me tell you what I think is happening in Rakia and Silekia. Some years ago, Rakian brigands started raiding Silekia; raiding Burhs, stealing animals, killing people, and destroying crops and buildings. Despite the protestations of the Rakian Aebeling, I believe that this was deliberate policy to test the resolve and strength of the Healdend of Silekia. Due to their success, instead of raiding, the brigands then started attacking and capturing cotlifs and Burhs – one at a time, killing the Eaorls and their wiga and making theow of the inhabitants. I presume some were sold, but most kept behind to work in the fields. Are I correct so far?’

They nodded.

‘But it is very hard to keep an eye on so many people, and many of the theow are escaping – mostly to Silekiak, but also north to Lykia. This is of course why you are here – chasing theow – the Rakians are trying to make an example of any who dare to escape.’

They nodded again.

Conn continued. ‘As for you three, I can only presume that the Healdend of Rakia has promised domains to any who serve in destroying Silekia. Am I still right?’

They all nodded again.

‘OK. So how is it that you are all so far north? There must be better places to be’.

Brys spoke this time. ‘The Eaorl of Salvia … is my cousin – Fionn. His brother is the current Eaorl of Hera – Fionnbharr. He is cousin to all of us – and he said he needed manpower. Salvia is a long way from Rakia. We were just visiting for a while to help out.’

‘Well, I guess that makes sense.’ Conn though about it for a while. ‘When did your cousin take over as Eaorl?’

‘About a month ago.’

Conn nodded, stood and said generally, ‘What do you think we should do with this lot? We could still execute them – I’ll sure I can think convince a Magister that they were involved in the murders.’

Annisa nodded; ‘We could – or we could make them work for a living – how about the road crew? You need all the help you can get if you want to get it to Tabae anytime soon.’

Brys interrupted; ‘A road crew – what does a road crew do?’

‘Basic engineering. A splendid idea, Annisa, a year building roads and bridges will do them a whole lot of good. I mean, one is Wilgar’s cousin, we shouldn’t really hang them, should we?’

‘Oh, I won’t be too offended, my grandmother is dead – who’s to know?’ Wilgar added just for fun. The three were still very young, not real Wiga yet, not hardened men, and all prospects seemed obnoxious to them. But they had little choice, and they were suddenly terrified of being hung.

Conn turned serious. ‘This is the deal, and it’s is the only one that you will get. You will spend the time working on the road crew. I’m building a road to the sea. If you run away, I will brand you as theow when you are caught – and you will be caught. After a year, I will set you free and send you home. If you don’t wish to do that, I will happily hang you. Your choice.’

They all agreed that working on the road crew was a better alternative to being hung and Conn had them taken to the barracks and provided rooms. Tomorrow they would be set to work.

After they left, Annisa bought in the thirty Silekians who had make it to the keep before the Fyrd had arrived. They had been informed of their friend’s fates, and the injured boy and a few other lucky survivors had been brought to the keep. The boy with the arrow in his shoulder would live. Conn heard that his name was Wuffa.

Of the thirty in front of them, most were young males, but there were a fair number of girls this time. Conn soon learnt that most were from Sirido and Salvia, but others were from Tovio – which was a long way from Lykia. Two were gentry; one was the Eaorl of Salvia’s second son, and the girl, or rather a woman, was the deceased Eaorl of Tovio’s sister, Sileas. After hearing their stories they were finally let go to be taken to their new homes. Sileas was shown to a room within the keep; as fitting her station.

It was later in the evening when Conn got to thinking. ‘You know, the new Eaorl of Salvia is going to be much weakened after today; he has lost a third of his forces. We have the old Eaorl’s son here; and about some highly trained Silekians wiga. I say we take a little journey into Silekia and give the boy back his domain.’

Annisa looked shocked. ‘I don’t think that Octa would be happy for his Thane to be invading Silekia.’

Conn agreed. ‘Not invading, just visiting. But you are quite right, that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.’ Conn paused to consider. ‘I’m not Lykian – and most of my wiga are Silekian. With some of the new arrival we can put together a Fyrd large enough to do the job. We’ll even dress them up so that no one can mistake us for Lykians. I think we need some new surcoats.’

It wasn’t a Meshechian thing to wear surcoats, but Conn had introduced them to his wiga. . The current surcoat indicated they were from Tabae. ‘Oh? And what are you going to put on them? Annisa had been bemused when Conn had suggested surcoats the first time. but she had been impressed when the Fyrd was dressed.

Conn pursed to consider; ‘A picture of the sun.’

‘The sun? I was thinking you might like to be a hammer or something…’

‘Very funny – no, a sun is a sign of change, of renewal.’ He didn’t say that the sun was prominent on his family’s coat of arms. The symbol was the “The sun in splendor”, and his family motto was “I shine, not burn”. He lived his motto.

‘Can we get everything ready in such a short time?’ Annisa asked.

‘I believe so – we just need to know how many wiga the new Eaorl will have when we give him back his domain… we wouldn’t want him to lose it again.’

While Wilgar went to organize the wiga, Conn sent for his Craeftiga to organize the equipment. He also sent for the future Eaorl of Salvia, whose name was Cathal son of Bran il Salvia.

Conn discussed his plan with him and he was most delighted. Cathal had about ten men with him who would be able to assist and Wilgar came and reported that he had another twenty who would be prepared to return to Salvia to serve as wiga for the Eaorl. Cathal would then have a Fyrd of thirty, and given the right resources and training, he would be able to defend his domains against any reprisals.

Within a week the two Fyrds were sufficiently trained and equipped to leave; one was to be led by Cathal and the second by Wilgar. Conn had been fully briefed on the layout and defense of the keep, and they had run through the plan against his own keep. Conn had a special job – one that would keep him out of sight. He dressed in a black ‘ninja’ outfit, and was just about to leave and Annisa hugged him.

‘It seems pointless to say it, but I will anyway. Be careful out there.’

‘Always try to be – I think – no, I’m sure – everyone is appropriately trained. Cathal has a good squad of men, and Wilgar’s Fyrd is the best trained in Meshech. My job will be purely to make sure that the gates are open and that as few as possible get killed.’