Authors: Michael O'Neill
‘They certainly seem to be growing in number,’ Driscol added. ‘I’m overlooking the number of Moetians who have joined.’
Conn smiled; indeed over five hundred Moetians had signed up. Arlen would five companies to command. ‘It is well if your wiga never need those skills – but I fear that it will be inevitable. Whatever the Ancuman have planned; this is just the beginning.’
‘I hope you are wrong. Have you heard from Trokia?’ Driscol had deliberately not communicated with the Wealdend of Trokia as he didn’t want to become involved.
‘I have – Abrekan has been able to get an audience with the Wealdend and is now able to get information first hand. I am advised that the Gatinans have stopped at the border, so it seems unlikely that they will invade this year – but next spring almost ten thousand Gatinans will march into Trokia if the wergild is not paid.’
‘How many do you have?’
‘Five hundred bowmen are already on their way to Trokia to help fortify the walls; I will march with over two thousand.’
‘What about Kania?’
Conn acknowledged that this was an issue yet to be dealt with, but had a plan. ‘I would like to send an envoy to Kanian, and ask the Aebeling if I can make my way through his domain. Do you have someone that you can lend?’
The Healdend thought and then nodded. ‘One of my officials has a mother who is from Kania; her family is closely connected to the court. I will send for him. He is not one of my best officials, I might add.’
Halla had been standing silently all this time – indeed she has spoken little since leaving Cyme. She suddenly chose to say something.
‘Healdend, might I speak as to the nature of Kaniak?’
Driscol nodded.
‘I have spent a lot of time there; the Healdend keeps a Valkeri bodyguard as he is paranoid about assassination. I think that you will find him unmoved to any request for access. He seems to hate everyone – including the Moetians and Trokians, but especially the Silekians. His mother is of Rakia and he spent much of his youth there.’
Driscol laughed. ‘Gorman is a pretentious upstart – he hates us because we won’t acknowledge that he can call himself a Healdend. Kania is an Aebeling domain like Lykia – and Rakia for that matter.’
‘Why does he fear assassination?’ Conn asked.
‘Some years ago there was a falling out between the Healdend … Aebeling Gorman and his uncle Esras. I believe it had to do with the daughter and heiress of the Eaorl of Dor, who chose Esras as bedda over the Aebeling. It is rumored that the Aebeling was somehow implicated in the girl’s death some time later, because soon after her death, Esras fled to the hills of Shekem in Kania – his mother was the daughter of the Eaorl of Shekem and their lands are mountainous and it is impossible to find anyone there. I’ve even looked.’
‘Is he trying to stage a coup?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so – but the Cotlif is constantly flooded with rumours that Esras has assassins trying to murder the Aebeling; hence the body guards.’
‘Have there been any battles?’
She smiled. ‘Not many – Gorman did send a Fyrd of Kanian Wiga to find and kill him, but the whole company of fifty men simply disappeared. So all men either died or changed sides. He then sent a small Fyrd of Rakians – and they definitely all died. Their bodies were found in a pile.’
Conn was intrigued. ‘Perhaps that it something we can use against him if we have to.’
They spent the rest of the evening discussing the work that was being undertaken in Menia – already one of the new fishing boats had arrived in Moetiak to sell its catch.
Driscol was disturbed. ‘So Menia will be rich again soon – and Susa is getting richer. I’m starting to feel surrounded. Are you sure you aren’t planning a coup yourself?’
‘Your position is safe. And are you not profiting from the new business activity.’ He had not right to complain – the treasury of Moetiak was the healthiest it had ever been.
‘Still…’ They were interrupted by the arrival of the official.
With Driscol’s forbearance, Conn informed him of what was required of him. Driscol had a document prepared with a formal request for access, which was sealed and then handed to him. Conn also arranged for three hundred gold Ryals to be delivered to his boat as a gift to be presented to Gorman as compensation for any inconvenience – a significant amount of money.
As they returned to the Inn, Conn noticed that Halla was still in considerable pain as she walked – whilst her bruises were almost gone, obviously the injuries below had yet to repair themselves fully. She followed him upstairs to the bedrooms on the second floor of the Inn. As he was about to enter his room he looked back as she struggled with the door handle.
‘How is your shoulder?’
‘My shoulder – I don’t understand…’
‘You seem to be carrying it strangely... and you struggled with the door.’
She shrugged. ‘It is fine. It is getting better every day.’’
‘Not quickly enough. Come into my room.’
Conn saw the immediate flash of defiance in her eyes; followed by resignation. She found the position of theow a great struggle – something Conn appreciated.
After she followed him inside, he instructed her to stand still as he Conn investigated her body – as well as being a trained paramedic, he had spent considerable time studying physiotherapy. Conn knew he had caused her no serious trauma – but her muscles were still tormented and most ligaments and joints had been stretched.
He went to his bag and removed oils that he carried with him.
‘Take off your clothes and lie on the bed on your stomach.’
Her eyes flared in disobedience again but just as quickly cooled, and she did as she was told. Naked and lying on her stomach, she was surprised to find herself being covered with oil. Conn then used his training to massage the stiffness and pain from her body and to manipulate every joint back into position. He later asked her to roll over and offered her a towel to cover herself as he worked – though it was hardly big enough to provide even much cover for her large breasts.
She declined. ‘Thank you – but I have no place to be modest. My body is yours to use – if and when you desire. I am theow.’
‘So you said – but I am not going to force myself upon you.’
‘You will not be forcing yourself on me. I am theow. It is my duty to provide you with sexual comfort.’
‘Still sounds like uninvited attention to me.’
‘Oh, all right then,’ she exclaimed sharply, ‘I invite you to use my body – if that makes you feel better.’
Strangely, it did.
The official left the next day on one of the Healdend’s vessels as Conn didn’t want to risk one of his being “confiscated”. With an expected return after two weeks, Conn spent his time waiting in the cotlif reading the newly completed codices in the library, working with the craeftiga or spending time with Ana and her tutors.
Occasionally he visited the Folgere, and had just returned from a visit to the Cirice when he was met by a miffed Halla at the Inn’s doorway. He was starting to sense that she resented his visits to the Folgere.
‘The Healdend is here to see you’ she said abruptly.
‘Really? Do we know why?’
‘It is not for me to ask and he didn’t say.’
He went inside the Inn and found an amused Healdend with a table full of food.
‘You have so many different foods on offer here that I thought I’d try the lot. Anyway, the ship has returned early, and you are not going to like what you hear. He can tell you what he told me.’ The Healdend nodded in the direction of one of his staff sitting on a neighboring table. It was not the Envoy but his deputy – a very nervous Sighard.
He very quickly summarised his report – Envoy Oswyn had been murdered.
‘That I didn’t expect.’ Conn was genuinely surprised. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘Thane, when we arrived in Rakia, Envoy Oswyn determined that he would go on ahead and make himself known at the court. He left with representatives of the Portgerefa and a small guard, as is acceptable, and made his way to the Keep. I followed on behind, after I had made arrangements at the inn for the crew. When I got there, a feast was in progress and Oswyn was deep in conversation with the Aebeling – as to what I have no knowledge. I was left at another table.’
‘Certainly not what we expected him to do.’
Sighard agreed. ‘As the night went on, Oswyn celebrated with the Aebeling and after the feast, I escorted him to the Inn. I settled him into his room and retired. He was quite drunk. At dawn when I went to wake the Envoy, he was not in his room and the bed had not been slept in – but the window was open.’
‘He snuck out in the middle of the night?’ Conn asked rhetorically.
‘Thane, it would appear so. I arranged for a search party from the Inn and went directly to the Keep. When I got there, the Bailiff took me to a room where I was shown the Envoy’s body. He must have been dead for several hours. The Bailiff informed me that his body had been found in a back street, and it had just been brought to the Keep.’
‘How did he die?’
‘A knife wound to the chest. When I met with the Aebeling, his advisors informed us that Envoy Oswyn had been found in a part of town that is somewhat lawless. He assumed that Oswyn’s fate was of his own doing – he was going somewhere he shouldn’t have.’
Driscol was still outraged; ‘They expect us to believe that Oswyn did this – on his first day in the Cotlif, go wandering the streets in the middle of the night and accidently got himself murdered! That someone tried to rob him?’
‘Yes, Healdend; that is what they suggested; and when our Folctoga requested to talk to his Bailiff and to investigate further, the request was declined.’ Sighard paused. ‘We were also unable to deliver the document to the Aebeling as Oswyn had insisted in keeping it in his possession, and it could not be found in his room. He had asked for it especially before he went to bed.’
Conn postulated. ‘So the question is why did he leave the room with the scroll – was it taken from him after he met someone outside and murdered or was he kidnapped with the scroll and then murdered. I assume you were unable to find answer to any of those questions?’
‘I am ashamed to say that I did not, Thane’.
‘Sighard, there is no need to be ashamed, it would seem that we have all been played. It would seem that the Aebeling of Kanian knew that it was not in his own best interest to officially accept the document.’
‘I agree – I suspect that the Witan would have approved. Murdering the envoy and stealing the document was a certain way of covering his tracks. Do we send another?’
Conn shook his head. ‘No; I doubt that it will be successful. The Aebeling will find some other reason not to acquiesce.’
Conn addressed the deputy. ‘And the Ryals?’
‘I still have them, thought there was evidence that someone knew we had gold, as our rooms had been ransacked while we were out. But it was under guard in the ship. I took it back as soon as I couldn’t find the Envoy.’
They thanked and dismissed the envoy.
Conn was curious. ‘Your envoy – does he have a family?’
‘I believe so; just a single bedda and a daughter.’
‘I will provide you with sufficient Ryals so that she has a dowry to find another bedda. We don’t want her becoming a theow because of this incident.’
The loss of the man in the household was a tragedy for any family, and as the fourth son of an Eaorl, his bedda would not be from the highest of families. There would probably be no one to take care of them.
Driscol nodded. ‘I will send a servant to fetch her.’ Driscol stood to leave. ‘What are you going to do now?’
‘It looks like it will be plan B.’
‘What is plan B?’
‘March through; I have no fear of the Kanian Fyrd – but any interference will make it slower and I will lose good men on a battle that should be – could be – avoided. I’m not very fond of plan B. And for the rest of this year I’m returning to Susa to prepare.’
Serendipitously, the Eaorl of Susa’s lands bordered the Eaorldom of Nisa in Kania; and Conn made an effort to train his Fryd as close as possible to the border as possible. It didn’t go unnoticed. Wiga belonging to the Eaorl of Nisa patrolled nervously every day; the prospect of the two thousand men marching across was not lost on the fifty men. It wasn’t long before there was an unofficial visit by the Eaorl of Nisa himself.
Dubgall il Nisa, Eaorl, was a cousin to Bran, the Aebeling of Moetia; and he used that pretence to visit the cotlif. Bran brought him to meet Conn, and Conn didn’t hide the Fryd at training. The three of them watched as wave after wave of wiga raced past straw targets and fired arrows; the marksmanship was getting better by the day and after a single run, the straw wiga were peppered with arrows; over ninety percentage at two hundred yards.
Conn could see that Dubgall was visibly shaking; perhaps he could see himself at the end of one of those arrows.
Conn was direct. ‘Eaorl, you need to find a way to stay out of the way; I will take my Fryd to Trokia with the consent of Kania or not.’
Conn thought that explaining his purpose might surprise the Eaorl, and it did.
‘Trokia? You intend to go to Trokia?’
‘Did not your Aebeling inform you of our request to pass through your lands?’
Dubgall shook his head, ‘No he did not. He said that you were intending to invade Kania because of the death of your envoy or something. It has all been unclear…’
‘What about the Witan?’
‘The Witan has not been held for three years… our Healdend rules alone – with the assistance of his Rakian advisor.’ The last comment was said with some spite. ‘But it is a little clearer now – our Healdend will be determined to stop you – at any cost – from providing any assistance to Trokia. He has some ambition of reuniting Trokia with Kania. The current Wealdend has a daughter but no grandchildren; and there is some speculation about who will be Wealdend after her. Our Healdend offered to take her cousin as bedda but the offer was refused.’
It was all a little clearer for Conn as well. ‘So is there any way for you all not to get killed?’
He laughed ruefully. ‘Somehow, I don’t think so. Our Healdend, or at least his advisor, will be determined to get us all killed. I can only hope that you can…’