The Bretwalda (The Casere Book 4) (36 page)

BOOK: The Bretwalda (The Casere Book 4)
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‘Where is it all now?’

‘In the cellar of Aisly’s donjon. But if she dies…’

‘I see.’ Visions of Tulia and mountains of gold did not present a pretty picture. Conn thought for a moment. ‘Send what you don’t need to Aeaea – Jowan will be able to take care of it there – he will have over twenty thousand Twacuman there soon – it will be the safest place. I’ll organize Njil to take a trip.’

Eogar let out a sigh of relief. ‘Would Jowan mind if I moved to Aeaea with it – I feel some responsibility to keeping control over it all? I understand that it is usually warm there.’

‘And it rains a lot. Jowan will not mind. He will be happy to think that he controls the ryals supply of the known world.’

‘Gold and silver are immune to rain or damp. I will arrange to leave with Njil.’

After several nights of heavy work removing the bullion on the schooner, Njil departed with Eogar and his family for Aeaea.

~oo0oo~

Aisly was definitely happy to get rid of the vast amounts of bullion in her cellars. Under constant Twacuman guard, its future was of concern to her as well. She was finally out of bed – the herbals teas, foul tasting as they were, had got her back on to her feet. She sat with Conn and Derryth during the wedding feast for Vigbert.

‘If you were to say that I would be playing host to a binding ceremony between the granddaughter of the Bretwalda of Kishdah and a rebel Axum warlord, you would call me insane.’

‘True – we do live in unusual times. One day we may even have peace – or at least something that resembles it.’

‘So you leave in two days?’

‘Indeed – that should give us enough time to get the Axum saddled and supplied. All is ready otherwise.’

‘Talking of which, how have things gone with our daughter.’ Tulia had been spending time with Halla since her return, and Aisly directed her question at her as well.

Conn nodded sadly. ‘She is a hard nut to crack. I asked Halla to talk her out of leading her own troop when we leave – but she still insists.’

Halla nodded. ‘Pride – she has had it since she was a baby; she hated losing any game or competition – and she believes that she holds seniority over all her siblings. Bermia and Ewan are only Eaorls – she is to be Wealdend. Jowan is an Aebeling and Farrun of course she didn’t meet, and the others are all too young to matter.’

‘Pride becomes before a fall – I just hope that the fall is not too hard.’

~oo0oo~

Prior to departing, there was one other ceremony that had to be done. Conn went with Aisly to inspect Vigbert and his recently remounted wiga. Their mounts were all buckskins – all bred by Conn from the horses confiscated in Sytha and ultimate transported south to Meshech. They were however bigger and stronger than the original Ancuman horse due to the genetic influence of the stallions that Conn had brought with him. Vigbert’s men were very pleased with their mounts, and their uniforms and the Eagle’s Claw tabard and nobori that they carried. Con had them perform a trooping of the colours ceremony inside the castle, and even Conn had to agree that they were an immensely impressive company of men. Vigbert rode to the front of the company and on command; the three hundred men saluted Conn and the Wealdend.

Conn addressed the men. ‘Men of Geirfrith. You have done me the honour of a salute and I thank you. In exchange, I have a gift for your Colonel, Vigbert il Axum.’ He reached down to the floor and lifted the long thick scabbard off the ground. He withdrew the long perfect blade and showed it to the masses. ‘This is a fine sword – I have only ever seen one its equal – and it is no ordinary sword. It is the sword of Geirfrith, and I return it to the rightful bearer.’

The men broke into a cheerful clap and shouts of joy. The full prophesy mentioned the return of the sword, and now that that part was true, they felt even more sure that they were doing the right thing. Civil war was never easy to do – cousins against cousin, brother and sister against brother and sister. If you knew that the cause was righteous, that did make it that bit easier to do. Vigbert held the sword upright and the men cheered again. He later asked Conn how he had retrieved it – he had many stories of the sword and some even suggested that the Gyden had destroyed it.

All Conn would say was that he wouldn’t believe him if he told him.

~oo0oo~

Having farewelled Trokiak, they headed south. The Ancuman forces controlled the Earldom’s of Mazra and Katane, as well as the mountain demesne of Enak. They held Gela for a while before deserting it as held no strategic importance. East was problematic with the Grey Jackets, at regimental strength, waiting for them over the border at Panua. South of Panua was Oxmon, and Conn wished to wrest control back of his castle. Not that it was under Ancuman control – it wasn’t, but it was surrounded by Ancuman wiga.

He had read the reports of the war soon after his arrival; everything was pretty much as he had left it two years previous; the Ancuman forces were basically stuck in Katane and maintained a western front outside of Gatinak; which they had surrounded, and the eastern front near Panua.

Gatinak, like Oxmon, was still standing, and the Rakiak fyrd was still ensconced in Sedina, and given their task was to present an impervious wall, the Ancuman did not travel further west. A single attack on the line had severe enough consequences that the Ancuman forces didn’t try it again. The fact that the Rakian didn’t follow and pursue the supposedly retreating Ancuman forces undoubtedly frustrated the Aebeling to no end.

He was probably more frustrated when the Grey Jackets arrived from the east; he probably had expected that Farrun would last longer than a single summer. Disappointed as he was, he then set up a second front at Panua and waited for the fyrd to attack – which it didn’t. Instead, it settled in to wait until Conn’s arrival.

Conn led his fyrd on the six-day march with over a thousand men to Panua, where the they joined up with the Grey Jackets, led by Eldward il Durah.

Intelligence had suggested that there were not more than three thousand men in the town, and after a hard winter, followed by a wet summer, he figured that they would take the sight of the arriving fyrd without a lot of joy. As they assembled, it was colourful. The Twacuman and the Kerchians rode under Conn’s Kerchian brown tabard, while the Grey Jackets and their grey tabards, and Vigbert rode with the white and black standard of the Eagle’s Claw. Tulia led her Trokian forces under her red standard with the sail device, and sun in the background.

Even after two days of riding and cajoling, she stood her ground, stubborn to the last. As heir, she claimed her right to lead her own forces, and she ended up riding separate from the main group; travelling with her own troops, to the left of the central column. Brenna left Conn to ride with her sister. She was torn in her loyalties.

Half a day from the town of Panua, the first of the Ancuman forces were sighted; and Conn drew his forces up, as scouts came back to report.

‘Marquis, they appear to have a shallow line at the front and a deeper line at the back. The deeper line is hidden. It looks weaker at the left side but as far as we can see, they can cover any attack on the line very quickly.’

‘They are trying to entice us to attack – which we won’t do.’ Conn looked around. ‘Vigbert,’ he called. ‘Take your troops to the higher ground. I want the standards seen. We’ll see if they can last a few days in the field, before…’ They were interrupted by a rider, one of his ninth rushing in.

‘Feorhhyrde, the Trokian Brigade has charged. They were on the left and thought they saw a chance.’

‘You have got to be kidding! That girl does not listen…’

Conn raced for his stallion and issued orders as he went. ‘Eldward, feign an attack on the right flank – see if you can draw their attention away from reinforcing the left flank. I do not want to have them all turn on the Trokians. The Sagittari are to follow me. Vigbert, you need to move as fast as you can. Be seen.’

Mounted, they headed down the slope at speed; it was fairly steep and it was moments before Conn could see where the Trokians had ventured. Behind him the Sagittari fanned out behind him; lightly armoured they would not be able to take on the Ancuman in close combat, but they could certainly harry and annoy them – as well as causing certain amounts of deaths before they walled up.

Tulia had fallen into a trap – the bodies of the sacrificed first line were easy to see and then they could see the Trokian soon to be surrounded by a force twice their size. Conn’s arrival made them pause, and then they could see the right flank being harried so the central line turn back on itself. Conn’s wiga started firing as soon as they could and those that attacked the Trokians drew back to confront Conn’s attack. His Trokians were well trained enough to take the opportunity and made a charge at the line; distracted by Conn arrows, they were able to punch their way through and made their way out to safety. With the Trokians clear, Conn withdrew his forces as the Ancuman reformed and strengthened their lines. They’d had their first victory.

For the first time ever, Conn’s forces retreated.

Conn pulled up and patted his black stallion; his sides heaved with fatigue – if asked, however, he would do it all again.

Derryth turned his horse away, ‘I’ll check on the girls’. He then rode away.

Conn stood in the same spot overlooking the battle field for some time, as his men reported in. He felt sick to his stomach. Eldward reported that they had minimal losses, as did Wilric. Most of the time he just stared at the battle field where hundreds of horses and men lay dead or injured. Too many of them were his. When the Ancuman pulled back, his Kerchians went to investigate. Derryth returned.

Conn looked at Derryth. ‘Tulia? Brenna?’

‘They are alive – but amongst many others, Ceolgard is dead. He died saving Brenna.’

‘By all that is holy.’ Conn shook his head sadly. Ceolgard was a young man when he joined Conn forces early in the Gatinan war – he had proved himself so much that he had ended up a Major of the Trokian fyrd. Now he was dead because of the actions of his daughter. He looked at Derryth. Conn’s voice was heavy and filled with emotion. He hated losing anyone unnecessarily. He always had. It brought out the worst in him. ‘How am I going to deal with this – my own daughter has caused all these deaths – unnecessary deaths. I just do not know what to do – or say. I cannot execute her.’

They watched the medics deal with the dead and the wounded on the field below them as a horse trotted up. It was Brenna – and she was crying. She was sixteen and she had almost died. Conn walked to her horse and held his arms up for her to grasp and she slid off the horse into his arms and wept.

‘Ceolgard … Ceolgard… died..’ she cried ‘to save me…’

Conn sat on the ground with her and it was an hour before they moved. Brenna sat up and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Papa, what are we to do – this is our fault.’

‘It is not your fault, Brenna – you cannot share Tulia’s guilt. She knew very well that she was not to do anything of that kind.’ He stood up, pulling her up as well. ‘Come, I guess I have to speak to her eventually.’

‘What are you going to say?’

‘I don’t know.’

Camp had been set and the field had been cleared. Pyres were build and the dead would depart later that night. Conn walked with Brenna up to the tent that was Tulia’s; guards were outside her door and Conn sent Brenna in first. ‘I’ll be in in a minute.’

Derryth arrived with Oswah, one of the Trokian Captains. Injured, he was still in one piece. He bowed deeply. ‘Marquis, we have failed you. We tried but she just wouldn’t…’

Conn nodded. ‘I know you tried. I have failed you as well – I should not have let this happen. It won’t happen again. I let guilt shadow my decisions.’

Taking a deep breath, Conn walked in with the three of them into the yurt. Tulia sat forlorn on her chair; she looked up as he arrived. ‘I am a prisoner in this room – they will not let me go outside.’ She stated angrily.

‘It was for your own protection.’

‘From whom do I need protection – they are my people out there?’

‘Me.’

She was shocked. ‘You?’

‘Yes; me. I was thinking of having you executed for mutiny.’

‘Executed? You would have me executed? You can’t do that! I am your daughter.’

Conn looked at her for a moment. ‘Tulia, you don’t quite understand do you. I could have you executed without any fear of retribution. Your mother might hate me – but there is little she could do about it. And you disobeyed a direct command. NOBODY does anything until I say so, NOBODY. And yes, they were protecting you from me.’

Tulia was blushing. No one had ever yelled at her before, so she looked from face to face. Derryth nodded. ‘If he asks, I’d do it myself – and to me you are like a daughter.’

She looked to Oswah. ‘Oswah – surely you would protect me?’

Oswah shook his head. ‘Aebeling, I will do whatever the Marquis asks – him, I owe my life, you I owe duty and devotion. Life come first.’

She burst into tears – possibly the first time ever. ‘My own people, my own family, don’t love me!’

‘Tulia, you are a fool.’ Conn said as he went to her and held her by the shoulders. ‘We all love you – at the moment we just don’t like you very much. Your actions have destroyed all respect we had for you – and you are going to have to work had to get that back.’

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