The Eaorl (The Casere Book 2) (23 page)

Conn drew his swords quickly to parry a blow by a Rakian sword, and then in a flurry of motion and skill, dispatched the three men who had simply taken him too lightly. The last sword he parried was not a Rakian blade – it was an Ancuman sword. The sword owner spoke.

‘Well, well, well. If it isn’t that meddling feorrancund – what are you called – I remember – Taransay. Remember my name – Andu il Axum. It will be your last memory.’

‘Seriously? You just killed my horse. I’m in a very bad mood.’

With that Conn engaged – not his normal procedure – but he was tired – and he knew everything there was to know about Ancuman fighting techniques. Within a couple of minutes of clashing swords, Conn rolled to the side to avoid a blow and stood.

‘Well, Andu il Axum, are you still confident?’ The look on the Ancuman’s face indicated that he wasn’t but he tried again – and again, until he found himself looking at the wakizashi embedded deep in his chest. His sword fell from his hand and he gripped the wakizashi as if to pull it out. He then fell down, dead.

Conn walked the last fifty yards to where the Aebeling’s men stood huddled around a man on the ground. As he got closer Conn could see that it was Bran. Alduni was standing, waiting for him, and he greeted Conn warmly.

‘Thank you Conn, you have saved us. But my father is dead – he was attacked from behind. He was stabbed. A merchant wished to travel with us as we returned and father let him. But it seems he really was just an assassin.’

‘Where is the assassin?’

He pointed. ‘Over there – he is dead; he tried to kill me too but I wasn’t taken by surprise. The Valkeri have trained me well.’

Conn’s wiga soon arrived; they had chased down those that thought to escape – none had been successful. Fainche arrived with them; and Conn had to stop Bran’s men from arresting her. He explained that she was his prisoner. He then introduced her to Alduni; her kinsmen. She apologized.

‘I am sorry, Alduni, this is neither of my making nor of my liking. It is a cowardly act. You have my sympathy. I cannot believe that my kinsman, the Healdend of Rakia, would sanction such an evil act.’

They collected the dead and dug a long grave, burying all the Rakians – Conn knew for certain now that they weren’t Gatinans – together, with the Ancuman wiga.

Conn called Fainche over to show her. ‘Do you know this man?’

She nodded her head sadly, ‘Yes I do; he was part of the same group as Fara and Anup; his name is Andu. He left by boat last autumn – I thought he was returning to, umm, wherever the Ancuman come from.’

‘Kishdah. Fainche, how many more of them are there? There is only one Ancuman here dead. Are there others who travelled with him?’

For some reason, she decided to tell him. ‘There were six who left together as I recall.’

Conn was concerned, and he spoke to the Folctoga.

‘How many Rakians did we bury?’

‘Twenty eight – and we have lost ten of our own – not including the Aebeling.’

Conn had lost four of the men that he had brought with him – an unacceptable percentage in his mind.

With the knowledge that reinforcements were on the way, they set up camp and set up guards – it was inconceivable that the other Ancuman – there were five out there still – would run – they would have a backup plan of attack. And it would be during the night. One trap deserved another. Conn had camp set up to protect the wounded and the Aebeling, and positioned his sentries in pairs. He positioned his sentries very poorly however, and an experienced wiga would be able to see an unsighted path through the middle of the guard posts. He even positioned the horses down the valley a little – grazing. He had to assume that the Ancuman were experienced.

He had Alduni accompany him as he kept guard. Conn felt obliged to apologize.

‘I’m sorry I was too late, Alduni. I liked your father. I will miss him.’

Alduni nodded. ‘I don’t know why you are apologizing – you shouldn’t even be here! Grandfather is dying and with both my father and I dead; what would Moetia do? Why are you even here, Conn?’

‘A good question – I was heading to Kadash but the weather turned bad and I went to Batra instead – which is the longest way to get to Moesiak that you can imagine. Then I rode here – after a week in the saddle, my backside is sore and I haven’t had a bath in days. I’m having a long chat with Badb when I return to Moesiak. If they want me to do something, they should just say so.’

Alduni laughed and then turned serious. ‘Are they safe at home? Would they attack my grandfather in Moetiak?’

‘Good luck to them if they try – I’ve warned the Valkeri. And why didn’t you bring some Valkeri with you? That is why they are there. The merchant would never have gotten so close.’

‘It was supposed to be a quick trip – my father thought that it would slow us down if they came – they are a little too security conscious sometimes.’

‘But who made him think that it was going to be a problem – what was the hurry?’

Alduni was only eleven, and his small shoulders were going to be burdened even more now; he was the heir. But he stood and thought. ‘I wish Ana was here to help me – she always knows the answer to those questions. But there are many new people in Moesiak – the increased trade means more people in and out. There is a man – I think he is Silekian, and he is a musician and singer. He regularly performs – performed – for my father. I think it was him that made the suggestion. I know my father enjoyed his company.’

‘Maybe we will have the opportunity to interrogate him; but I’d imagine he would be dead by now.’ Conn was replaced on watch and he went to add the final touches to his trap. He gave the Ancuman two possible entry points; down through the trees or up a small incline from another group of trees. Both would give them cover. He had the sentries numbers increased to be noticeably over manned – instead of one there were three men sitting and watching. If they were observing, the Ancuman would know that only left six people in the centre; and they only wanted to kill one of them – even, probably, if it meant they would die in the process.

He ensured that Alduni was seen walking around and going to where he would sleep. It was a good protected site in line with the four sentries; but not from the other two entry points. He was sure they would attack as soon as the sentries quietened down and everyone was asleep. Conn sat quietly under a large tree a short distance away from their bed rolls – they would not have been seen leaving them, as the lie of the land would have prevented that.

After midnight the hairs on the back of Conn’s neck rose, and he nudged one of the wiga. He whispered; ‘Three men coming through the trees and two up the incline. They are determined. Now remember, don’t look.’

Conn had collected an emergency pack from the Inn in Moesiak as he left – and in that pack was a small supply of fireworks – designed to be fitted to arrows as a kind of flare, Conn had amended them for a special display. There was also a small container of black powder.

When the intruders were about twenty yards away from the ‘kill zone’, Conn lit the black powder with a flint; and it quickly flared across the ground in a specially created tunnel, Conn counted down quietly; ‘Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one!’ On ‘one’ the first cracker flared into the air, exploder and emitted a shower of coloured sparks, lasting about five seconds. Almost immediately another flew – and then the last one. Soon the night sky was filled with light – just enough for the intruders to be clearly seen and, given their surprise – they were standing in some kind of reflex surprise position. As they stood, they fell; each dying with arrows embedded into their chest or necks. The sheer number of arrows meant that one was lucky enough to evade their armour, except for one.

He was lucky; he avoided all the arrows and turn and fled back into the forest. Conn immediately gave chase, calling a cease fire as he ran. The Ancuman had about a seventy yard lead on Conn, and in the darkness it should have been a huge advantage. But Conn easily followed the noise, bounding through the forest in leaps and bounds. Where was Derryth and his night vision when you needed him?

When the noise stopped he stopped running, and went forward slowly. The pale moonlight meant that it was not totally pitch black, but the shadows held a lot back. Conn stilled his breathing and heightened his senses until he was one with the trees. He crept forward – his movements giving his position away. He had no advantage in stealth so decided to speak.

‘You know it was only the other day that I was speaking to one of your colleagues – well, speaking is a bit generous. Her name, I believe, was Fara.’ Conn heard a breath intake not ten yards away, ‘She was very beautiful but all she wanted to do was kill me.’ Another intake – behind the tree, ‘At which endeavour she obviously failed – they both died – her and the toy boy of hers… I was hoping that she would surrender – I would like an Ancuman theow to fornicate with at will…’

Conn ducked as a great broadsword struck just where his head was a moment before, missing him by inches. ‘Hey, nice swing; shame about the miss!’ The sword swung at him again and he parried, and deflected the strike. The young man was a bit upset and using a lot of energy in his attempt for the easy kill. After several near misses, he was starting to tire and Conn elected to engage him more to tire him more. The man had another disadvantage – he wore the black necklace and the Gyden’s frustration and hate was seriously interfering with her man’s inability to fight. She was very strong in this wiga’s mind.

After the ‘lesson’ in swordplay, the Ancuman realized that he wasn’t going to win; and was becoming confused why Conn hadn’t killed him already – he had avoided opportunities. With a sudden desire to die and not be taken prisoner, the Ancuman raced at Conn carelessly – but Conn simply avoided the kill shot every time. In desperation he reached for his dagger, just like Fara, but Conn was waiting this time and he was close enough to strike out with the side of his sword, striking cleanly on the temple with enough forces to stun the man long enough for Conn to get him into a choke hold. He struggled, using every ounce of strength he had to get out of the grip Conn had on him. Over the years, many have tried, but none had every succeeded, and with his airway blocked, he fell unconscious.

Conn was now surrounded by his wiga. He stood. ‘He’s unhurt – make sure he stays that way. Take him back and keep his under guard. Make sure his doesn’t have an opportunity to kill himself.’

Conn returned to the camp and found his bedding and lay down for a nap – it had been a long night, and when Conn woke a few hours later, light was starting to filter through the trees. He checked in with the guards and all was quiet. That was the backup plan; so there shouldn’t be any more of them out there. The prisoner was sitting at the base of a tree; a guard on each side. He saw Fainche walking back from the tree; she turned away when she saw that Conn had seen her. He called out.

‘Fainche, do you know him?’

She turned back, her moment to escape lost. ‘No, but I have seen him with the others. He is just a lowly wiga.’

Conn thought the last comment was unnecessary and shook his head. ‘If you say so Fainche; but I think you lie – he was last coming down the hill, and chose to run instead of fight. I think he is somewhat more important than that. Fainche, I don’t mind it if you don’t tell me anything – but if you tell me lies, I might just sell you as a Theow.’ He didn’t give her an opportunity to answer, turning his back on her and walking to where Alduni sat. He didn’t see the blood rush from her face.

When he got to Alduni, they looked to the distance, and could see a company of riders travelling their way. They were the squad from Susa, and Wilga was leading them. They didn’t look like they had had much rest either.

As they arrived, Wilga was apologetic. ‘Are we too late? I didn’t want to kill the horses…’

Although Conn was sure the threat had been eliminated, the additional squad of wiga provided as thorough a protective detail over the young Aebeling as they could – given that they were still out in the open. There was always someone in the direct line of fire for any vantage point, and as they rode for Moesiak the next morning Alduni rode beside Conn surrounded by his father’s guard. The Silekians rode cover, travelling in a circle a hundred yards around the boy in all directions.

Riders were sent ahead with the grim news; as well as to the nearest Village to requisition a horse cart so that Bran’s body could be returned as respectfully a manner as possible.

Those Moesian and Silekian wiga who weren’t going back to Moesiak were cremated at dawn in a funeral pyre, with dignity. The Rakians and Ancuman had not been dealt with the same level of respect – they had been buried in a pit.

As soon as they passed over the river on the ferry, people started to arrive at the roadside, and bowing as the cart passed. Because of, or despite his illness, Bran was highly respected as Aebeling, and his recovery was warmly received. People were doubly sad that he had been unable to experience good health for long.

At the edge of the town, Finnrun was waiting for them, having been notified of Conn’s immanent return. He joined Conn as they continued the procession.

Conn asked of news from the donjon. ‘I gather we were in time?’

Finnrun nodded. ‘I was able to get to Ana – I gave her a message to give the Captain of the Valkeri squad, under seal, and they were able to intercede. Apart from the Medic, the other assassins were the musicians and all but one was killed; from the survivor I understand they were able to find out what poison had been administered and what antidote to apply. Driscol is recovering quite well.’