The Bretwalda (The Casere Book 4) (32 page)

Walking down from the wall, Conn mounted the black stallion, dressed in armour and asked that the gates be opened. A stream of horses filed out; and as they fanned out, they picked up speed. The Axum camp was about 250 yards from the walls – their mangonel had a range of about 200 yards but Conn’s had a range between 250 and three hundred. After a night of continual bombardment, the Axum had formed their fyrd at daybreak – they knew that something was going to happen, but as prepared as they were, the sight of the charging horses caused considerable confusion. They had no comprehension that there would be that many horses inside the walls.

Their Folctoga, urged on by their folgere, tried to rally their wiga to create a solid line but the day was lost before it started. When they realized that Conn’s horses were headed directly at them, they turned and ran as well; and were pummelled by the mass of horse flesh.

The folgere fared worst; Conn’s stallion barrelled a few men aside on his way to the six folgere that stood huddled together, yelling at the wiga. Conn’s fluid dismount into their midst, and his two flailing swords resulted in the six being dead in a matter of minutes. Without their shrieking voices, the Axum fyrd totally collapsed and the exhausted men surrendered en masse. Instead of killing, the cataphracts had resorted to herding men towards the castle itself. Deaths were minimal considering.

Less than an hour after the gates were opened for the horses, over a thousand Axum wiga sat in the large outer bailey of the castle. Several hundred were outside being treated for their wounds while several more hundred lay dead on the field. Squads of Axum had been detailed to dig a mass grave while others collected the dead.

Conn had the Folctoga brought forward. Conn was no longer surprised that he knew one of them – a former captive Alfvir il Axum.

He was less than gracious given his situation. ‘I should have known it was you – interfering again.’

Conn laughed. ‘Alfvir il Axum – what a surprise – and still you lack humility. I only interfere because you make me.’

Arnben looked at both of them. ‘You know the Folctoga?’

‘Yes, we have quite a history.’ Conn relayed the story of Alfvir being captured after being involved in the assassination the Aebeling of Moetia; and how he had sent him back on a cog. ‘I’m not sure that he will be so lucky the next time.’

Alfvir was staring hatefully at Arnben. ‘I see you have become a traitor.’

Arnben shook his head. ‘Not to my father’s side – and it is my father’s ancestors who would be very proud of where I stand today. My mother was never so proud to be bedda to one of the lesser tribes, anyway. Like all the bedda that the Bretwalda have foisted upon us, as soon as the son is born they scurry back to Axum and become bedda to some merchant or something. I believe I have a brother as an Innkeeper in Najar.’

The words mattered little to Alfvir. ‘You will all pay for your insolence and disrespect to the Bretwalda! With your lives!’

‘Alfvir,’ Conn announced, ‘I have changed my mind about what I’m going to do with you. If I keep you around, I’m likely to kill you and I’d rather not have your blood on my clothes. I’m now going to send you back to Bretwalda with a message. Firstly, tell Farolfur that he is no longer the Bretwalda, that he is now back to being a Healdend, as he can claim the suzerainty over no domain other than his own. Secondly, tell him that the banner of Geirfrith il Axum rides again – I’m sure that you saw it today. Lastly, you can tell him that I now returning to Meshech to eradicate all Ancuman wiga from Meshech – including his son. After than I will come back to deal with him. His only hope is surrender.’

Alfvir didn’t quite know what to say. He had seen the banner of Geirfrith il Axum – and he, like Conn, had heard the buzz around the wiga.

‘And who is this imposter that claims the right carry the Eagle’s Claw of Geirfrith?’

Conn looked behind Alfvir, and he followed his eyes. Vigbert stood at the entrance, decked out in his tabard with the Eagle’s Claw. Vigbert bowed; ‘I am Vigbert il Axum, son of Dagarr, son of Agvard, and descendant of Sigkarl, grandson of Geirfrith.’

Invevir, Geirfrith eldest son, was murdered very soon after his father, but had a secret child with his bedda from Jamut. It struck Conn interesting how Jamut was involved in the beginning and end of the Bretwalda. There were no such things as coincidences. The child, Sigkarl, grew strong and was protected and raised by sympathisers who had his elder sisters as bedda. By the time he was known, he had sufficient powerful friends to ensure that he could not be targeted for murder by the folgere. It helped that his uncle, the first Bretwalda, had also died. He died of poisoning as well, in mysterious circumstance, in bed with two young men.

‘Dagarr – I should have known. I always hated him. I thought he had no heirs – but I was obviously wrong. I presume your mother is some filthy Priecuman whore?’ The question was asked with malice. He smirked ‘Their men are weak – the women cannot get enough of Ancuman “muscle”.’

Vigbert ignored the insult. ‘You will be happy to know that I have been speaking with the wiga outside and already I have recruited another five companies of men. The blood of Geirfrith runs through them all.’

Alfvir shrugged. ‘Fleas always move to the dirtiest dog’. It didn’t surprise him; the inevitability of that occurring clearly visible on his face. There nothing more to say, Conn had him removed and placed in a cell.

~oo0oo~

Impatient to proceed to Nobatia – Conn was forced to wait as the two Jarls wish to return home, and sort out their own demesne before the demise of the troops around Latakia was widely known. Neither have folgere in their castles – it seems that in Nobatia, folgere rarely ventured away from Nobatia-jo – their life expectancy was not great unless they had a lot of protection. When Conn asked why, he learnt that Nobatia was the first island subjugated by Geirfrith, and the Folgere had arrived not with him but after. Without his knowledge or approval, they attacked the folgere of Ishtar – and murdered them in cold blood. Two things happened to change the course of the history; Ishtar sent the folgere who killed her beloved mad and then the masses murdered them as they ran screaming through the streets. The way that the Folgere dealt with Ishtar’s beloved changed after that.

Conn learnt this when he was in Finna’s room getting to know here again. It had been a year, and she was softer, and even more voluptuous.

‘So Ishtar can do the mind attacks as well? I thought it was only Ashtoreth.’

She sat up, in her glorious nakedness. ‘I do not know – but something tells me that Ishtar was the first.’

‘She had to learn from someone, I guess.’ And Ishtar’s need was great, at that time.

After seven days waiting, the fyrd marched north. Conn had changed the order completely; the companies led by Farrun and the Aebeling were at the front; followed by Vigbert and his expanded Eagle’s Claw Brigade. Vigbert had the makings of a regiment. Conn’s own troops marched at the rear – his Meshechian and Twacuman companies in their colours, escorting the prisoners. Nearly three thousand horses march north. As arranged, the Jarls met then three days from Nobatia.

As they got closer, their progress had been noted; scouts would see them and run; and a small company of wiga almost decided to commit suicide but then thought better of it. A day out, a large collection of Axum wiga were assembling to prevent their entry into the town. Conn sat with the Aebeling and looked at the massed lines.

‘I wonder,’ Conn mused, ‘how many will desert their posts if given the chance? There must be a lot of followers of Geirfrith in that mob.’

‘A lot – but we can’t just go down and ask them can we?’

‘I’m not so sure.’

Conn asked Vigbert to bring his troops to the front and then line them up as if to charge. Already almost a thousand men, it was a significant sign of a full rebellion – as prophesized – and they all had shields, Nobori and tabards with the banned Eagle’s Claw on full display. And given the visible support of the Southern Isles, it promised success.

The second instruction was to set up camp. ‘Now we wait and see. We need to show that we don’t intent to attack today.’ Conn ordered that tents be put up for everyone in full view of the defending forces.

As they waited, Farrun and Conn met with Asema, the daughter of the Jarl of Leptis. Almost sixteen, she was indeed tall and beautiful. Conn could understand Kolbert’s attraction. After they met, she was agreeable to the match. Farrun was sure that Vilotta was going to hate her, and he needed her approval.

The camp was lit brightly despite the presence of the Axum forces, and it was midnight when Wilric arrived and spoke to Conn. Collecting Vigbert, they exited the tent and joined Derryth down past the side of the encampment.

‘We have visitors.’ he explained.

Twacuman perimeter guards had been given instructions not to kill on sight; and they been successful in capturing four men. As it turned out, wisely, they were unarmed anyway.

They introduced themselves. ‘We want to understand why the Eagle’s Claw is flying. Is it true that an heir of the house is going to rebel – as is prophesized?’

Vigbert introduced himself and answered their questions, and they left an hour later – before they would be missed. One asked for Vigbert’s tabard before he left, stuffing it under his jerkin.

When Conn returned to the tent, he explained to the Aebeling what had happened. ‘It should be an interesting day tomorrow.’

~oo0oo~

Conn sat on his horse beside Farrun and the Aebeling. They were dressed for war and their horses stood patiently.

The Aebeling was confused. ‘I don’t understand. What happened last night.’

With the sun lighting up the battle field, it was becoming clear that something weird had happened. A huge number of people had simple vanished; leaving everything behind. There were holes in the defensive line everywhere and the ‘loyalists’ were running around trying to fill in the gaps. Half the fyrd had simply disappeared.

Conn turned his horse. ‘Let’s finish this.’ As he went to the front, he amended his orders, and the Kerchians dutifully obeyed.

When the pipers started playing and the drummers started beating out their message, Conn led the Cataphracts down the hill. He did it slowly—just in case – except for the command tent. In fact, they were the only part that actually hit the Axum line. With his usual ferocity, Conn headed for the command tent, the folgere falling to the hundreds of arrows that headed their way. It was like a hot knife through butter, and when they turned to charge the line again, they Axum were caught between him and a hundred cataphracts on one side and the stationary line of cataphracts and sagittari on the other. Their leaders gone, their comrades disappearing, they quickly surrendered.

It wasn’t long before the mysteriously missing wiga returned; they had Vigbert’s tabard as a Nobori and marched back into the camp on foot. Leaving the young man and his fyrd responsible for the clean-up of the battlefield, Conn followed the Aebeling back into town. He sent Wilric and Derryth ahead, under cover, as Twacuman theow.

The road to the castle was without incident or opposition, and when they got insight of the castle walls, they stayed out of arrow range just in case there were ‘loyalists’ still inside. As they paused, three men stepped out of the shadows. Derryth, Wilric and a third Twacuman. Arnben introduces him to Conn. ‘This is Eldvir; it was he that arranged for me to escape the town.’

Eldvir came forward. ‘Are you the Feorhhyrde?’

‘I am.’

He smiled. ‘It is good that you have returned.’

Conn looked at Derryth ‘What is the situation within the castle?’

‘It is in the process of being cleansed – if you know what I mean. As soon as we informed Eldvir, we put a plan into action.’ He stopped to shake his head in wonderment. ‘There are over three thousand Twacuman theow in this town, and Eldvir spread the world that all folgere and Axum wiga were to be neutralized. I think you will find that all folgere are in cells and most Axum wiga are in locked in their barracks with sore heads – or at least those that resisted.’

As they stood, several Twacuman came and spoke to Eldvir. He then addressed the Aebeling.

‘Master, I have been informed that the castle is clear – you may enter.’

Arnben nodded and led the way forward; he was a very confused man. ‘What I don’t understand,’ he asked, ‘is how Twacuman theow can take over an entire town in a matter of hours. What really confuses me is why they haven’t done it before. I thought we were the masters and in control, but we were not.’

Conn agreed. ‘When a society is so dependent on theow for their basic survival, it is the theow that hold their lives in their hands. Your food is prepared by them, your children are raised by them, and you fornicate with them. You pretend that your safety is guaranteed by your own wiga but you don’t even know how many of them there are. How did you end up with Eldvir?’

‘My father gave him to me – he was the son of my father’s theow.’

‘Eldvir is the chief of the can that rules this island. As you ruled, so did he.’

‘Amazing.’

They rode through the curtain walls and into the bailey. A large group of officials and servants waited for them. The horses taken away, they followed the Aebeling up the narrow staircase that into the second story hall. Inside he directed his guests to sit and went and greeted several women warmly. He returned as servants brought food and drink from the kitchen for their lunch.