The Eaorl (The Casere Book 2) (26 page)

They were waiting for the river that provided the border between Lykian and Silekia to become passable before they could ‘invade’. They were biding their time. Conn was in Atrak having breakfast with his daughters when a wiga rushed in to see him.

‘Eaorl, there is an unusual ship sighted from the lookout and it is with two of ours.'

‘Good. Excellent! And about time too.’

Conn headed to the docks, walking down the long pathway from the donjon through the town.

His herd of daughters walked alongside and behind him.

‘Father, what kind of ship is it?’

‘I call it a cog – but I don’t know what it is called in Kishdah.’

‘So it is an Ancuman ship.’

‘Indeed. I captured one just like it in Gatina – but it was half the size of this one.’

The cog was tied up first and the two schooners docked along behind, and they watched as dockworkers prepared all the ships for disembarking; fixing gangways between the vessels and the docks. First down from the Cog was Njil, and he was followed by a few Ancuman – probably bocere because they were not dressed as wiga – and then others who looked like Silekians. They were, however, not dressed as Silekians – they wore a loose fitting, and richly colored tunics over baggy trousers that were close fitting at the bottom. Over the top they wore a long woollen coat that reached down to the knees.

Njil did not have any of them bound, which made Conn assume that none were dangerous, and he studied the group dynamics as they walked towards him; of the Priecuman, it was obvious that the younger of the two women was actually in charge – the others seemed to be her staff.

It was turning into an interesting day. Njil arrived with a big grin on his face.

‘You’re going to love this.’

Conn hadn’t a chance to respond before the younger woman pushed past the Ancuman to address him.

‘I understand that you are in charge of these pirates. What is the meaning of this outrage?’ She looked Conn up and down as she spoke, and then stopped. ‘You look like a Samarian. What are you doing here?’

Conn was still surrounded by his children and Alana, his eldest, asked the obvious question. ‘Who are the Samarians?’

The young woman answered without thinking. ‘They are a tribe of people who live in the far south of Sytha. They herd cattle … but we have not had contact with them for many years.’ She stopped herself. ‘That doesn’t matter anyway – I would like my question answered. Who are you to commandeer my ship – are you the Healdend? And why did you do it?’ She was becoming increasingly flustered as Conn looked at her curiously. ‘Just wait till my father hears about this!’ she stomped.

‘How do you imagine that he is going to hear about it? Are you going to swim back?’ While she flustered, unable to respond, Conn continued. ‘I’m sure that we will have time for discussion later. My guards will appoint you some rooms. We will meet later when you have had a chance to eat and wash.’

She was just about to rebuke him when he walked past her to the Ancuman prisoners. There were about twenty. She was about to follow, but guards stepped in and blocked her way, and directed her up to the donjon. Njil joined him and Conn asked him how many had died.

‘About ten – before they were ordered to surrender. The vessel was grappled between both ours before they chose to quit. Very determined they were.’

Conn looked over the group of men. Only one was of Axum – he was a court official of some kind. The rest were sailors and were all from the Southern Isles.

‘Who’s in charge?’

The official stepped forward, proud and prejudicial.

‘I am…Feorrancund.’

Conn did not react immediately. Slowly he asked. ‘Can you swim?’

‘Swim? Of course not… only fish swim…’

He didn’t get the sentence finished when he found himself flying through the air and out into the harbour. He spluttered to the top and flailed his arms about wildly. Conn nodded and men went down the stair to the floating docks and used hooks to reef him back in. He was brought back to Conn. He looked like a drowned rat.

‘If you would like swimming lesson two, we will maintain our airs and graces. Otherwise we will be polite. My children are here.’ Conn noticed that the Ancuman men behind did not seem at all put out by the treatment of their leader. Some tried to hide their smiles.

‘So, again, are you in charge?’

‘Yes, yes, I am. My name is Yngvi, official envoy of the Bretwalda of all Ancuman.’

‘I see – and you were on your way back from Sytha to where exactly?’

Yngvi didn’t want to answer – that was clear on his face. He looked sideways at the water. He didn’t seem to like his odds. He finally answered.

‘Kishdah, we are returning to Kishdah.’

‘Thank you Yngvi. Wasn’t too hard was it? You will now be taken to the cells where you will stay until I let you go. You will find food and a bath. I expect that you will be comfortable – excluding the fact that you are my prisoners. I will arrange for your personal effects to be removed from the vessel … and yes, I insist that my men collect your effects. Don’t bother asking.’

‘Healdend, but what do you propose to do with us? The Captain was not forthcoming?’

‘I am not a Healdend – I am Conn il Taransay, Eaorl of Hama. You will be here a week at most – then I’ll let you leave.’

‘I don’t understand…’

‘I have a message I want delivered to Kishdah – to your Healdend.’

The official corrected him. ‘Bretwalda – Farolfur is Bretwalda of all Kishdah.

Conn refused to answer more questions, and wiga escorted the prisoners to the dungeon. Conn walked back to the donjon with his daughters, answering any questions they had – which was a lot. He had a job to do first – he went to the communication center and send a pigeon.

By lunch Conn had returned to join the Sythans; they were waiting for him – impatiently. As he arrived they were introduced to him. The talkative one was Lile, daughter of the Healdend of Sytha. Her maid was Ciannait, while her officials were Rearden, a medic, Turlough, a bocere, and Tuathal, a wiga.

‘An Eaorl? Since when does an Eaorl have ships that cross the seas and attack another people’s crafts? That is beyond my comprehension.’

‘Since the owners of that craft attack and kill the sons of Healdend,’ Conn answered bluntly. He sat and ate and drank as he recounted the events that had led him to send ships out to capture an Ancuman vessel. ‘That explains why I have the vessel – it doesn’t explain why you were on it.’

She had calmed down a bit through Conn telling of the death of Bran. She took a deep breath and started. ‘Sytha and Axum have been negotiating an assistance agreement. They agreed to send us wiga to assist us in our war with the Pontians, and in exchange, we are providing technical advisors’, she pointed to the men who sat behind her, ‘gold, and a bedda for the Bretwalda’s son.’ Conn noted her detachment from that statement; or at least her resignation. She continued. ‘I am on my way to be that bedda.’

Conn was confused; he was also direct. ‘To an Ancuman? I understand they like their meat very fresh. Are you not a little old to be bedda? How old are you?’

‘I have survived twenty five winters. I have spent my life since fifteen as a Folgere.’

‘Folgere? Chastity is not a virtue of Folgere…’

She almost blushed. ‘There are two kinds of Folgere – I have served my Gyden with devoted study and meditation – unlike some of my sister’s methods of serving our Gyden…’

‘So why the change of heart?’

‘The Bretwalda of the Ancuman insisted on the eldest daughter. I am my father’s eldest daughter – of his first bedda. And for some reason my Gyden gave her blessing. At first she refused but then suddenly changed her mind.’

Conn nodded and contemplated. ‘That makes sense. The Ancuman believed in primogeniture – so if they couldn’t be the eldest son; then second best would be the eldest son of the eldest daughter – especially if the male relatives were all ‘eliminated’’.

She was confused. ‘What do you mean – eliminated?’

‘Lile, the Ancuman are intending to betray you. I suspect that as soon as you have a male child, you would have suddenly died. But by then they would have your son and a claim to Sytha. If they had wiga in Sytha, over time, they would have eliminated all of your brothers and their sons until your son was the only heir. Then they would have claimed Sytha for themselves.’ When Conn said this he noted that neither Tuathal nor Turlough were that surprised. It would appear that not all were in agreement with the agreement.

Lile cried out impulsively. ‘That is not possible – they would not do that that. Yngvi would never betray us. He is my father’s friend.’

‘Yngvi – the Axum official – I met him on the dock?’

‘Yes – he has been a member of my father’s court for ten years. He had helped in putting together the agreement.’

‘What are the terms of the agreement?’

Lile shook her head. ‘I don’t know the details.’ She looked to her advisors. They shook their heads as well. ‘Yngvi has it. None of us have seen it.’

Conn called Wuffa over and whispered in his ear. He nodded and left the room in search of Njil.

‘We might have a little chat with Yngvi. So what do you think of my village?’ He directed this question at Turlough.

‘This is a village? What are your towns like?’

After a few hours of Conn interrogated the visitors slowly and carefully, as they drunk and ate, Wuffa returned with Yngvi, and directed him to a chair. Conn offered him wine, first serving himself from the same bottle to reassure him that it wasn’t poison. After his first timid sip, he drank heartedly.

He toasted Conn. ‘Sir, this is the best wine that I have ever tasted. I am glad that I had a chance to taste it before I died.’

Conn turned to business. ‘Yngvi, I understand that you negotiated a treaty between the Healdend of Sytha and your Bretwalda. Are you able to show me the agreement?’

His sobriety quickly restored, he responded as expected. ‘Alas, I cannot; the agreement was lost or destroyed when we were so savagely attacked by your … ships.’

‘Quite so. You don’t have a copy then?

‘No, I do not. And I am sorry, but I cannot tell you what is in the document. I will not betray my people.’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to.’ Conn looked at Njil and he walked over and handed him a pouch; leather but waxed so that it was waterproof. Njil had returned some time ago and nodded to him, before sitting down. As it was handed to him Conn observed that the colour drained from Yngvi’s face.

‘Where did you get that?’ He demanded when he had found his voice.

‘On your ship – but as you say, it cannot be your document anyway. Didn’t you just tell me that yours was lost?’ As Conn started to open the package, Yngvi started to rise from his chair but he found two hands on his shoulders keeping him in his place. Lile and the Sythans had sat quietly during the entire exchange, but their interest rose as Conn opened the document and read through. He handed on pages that he had read to Wuffa to read after him. Whenever Yngvi wanted to say something, Conn raised his hand to stop him. After the last page, Conn looked up and addressed Lile.

‘I can only assume then that this is not the agreement signed by the Healdend of Sytha – though it does look like his seal. For argument sake, however, let’s pretend that it is.’ He looked at Lile, ‘On the surface, this is indeed a very generous deal that Yngvi has organized for you, Lile; extremely if not too generous by half in my estimation. Basically in exchange for 2 million Ryals and you, the Ancuman would supply five hundred wiga within three years; to be housed and cared for by Sytha, and an additional five hundred within three years after that, to be paid for by Axum. They are to be trained with and housed with the Sythan forces.’ Conn looked at Tuathal. ‘How big is the Sythan Fyrd?’

‘About one thousand fully trained wiga.’

‘So an extra thousand Ancuman wiga would make it very strong indeed. But what if the Ancuman suddenly turned against the Sythans – from within the barracks and on the field? How would you stand?’

Tuathal shook his head. ‘I don’t really know – but the element of surprise would be devastating.’

Conn shook his head. ‘With these numbers – if I was in charge, I would eliminate your entire Fyrd in a night. All thousand before the sun rose. And if I can do it, I’m sure that the Ancuman can as well.’ He looked at Lile again. ‘As I presumed, the product of your loins has a special mention in this agreement; it clearly states that your child is an heir in the event of the death of all of your father’s descendants. How many does he have?’

She went white as a ghost. ‘About twenty I think – he has a lot of bedda; eight in total.’

Fainche laughed, she had joined them for lunch. ‘She thinks eight is a lot!’

Lile was not amused. ‘My father is a great Healdend and father to many. Eight is a great number.’

Fainche decided not to comment further, as Conn looked disapprovingly at her, shaking his head. He looked at Yngvi and addressed the next question to him.

‘To me this document when signed by the Ancuman is a death sentence for each and every one of the Healdend’s children and grandchildren as soon as Lile has a child. Do you deny that possibility, Yngvi?’

‘Yes, I deny that. It was there just in case something happened to his sons and their sons – they are at war after all.’

‘And why then five hundred wiga within three years and another five hundred in three years after that? Surely Kishdah could send the wiga now?’ He didn’t expect Yngvi to answer that question so looked at Lile’s advisors.

Tuathal responded. ‘I believe that they are currently planning to put down a rebellion within their demesne, and will have wiga available after that time – and the rest after they have consolidated their hold over the rebellion.’

‘Did they say where the rebellion was?’

‘No, Eaorl, I do not know. It was never mentioned to me.’

Conn smiled. ‘Well, I know where. Here. As soon as they have finished with us; they are going to start on you. This should be fun.’

They sent Yngvi back to his cell and the Sythans away as well; while Conn discussed the events with his advisors. They needed a new plan; on top of the plan that was about to unfold.

The next day, Conn had Alfvir brought to the training area.

‘You sent for me, Eaorl,’ he snarled.

‘I did. I hear that you have been doing a lot of practise during your time in the sun. My wiga speak highly of your skills.’

He bowed. ‘I have always been considered one of the best.’

‘Good, good. Then I guess it is time to test your skills again. I have a proposal. I have captured one of your ships, and I’m accepting it as your ransom…’

‘An Axum ships – that is not possible!’

‘You insist on saying that.’ Conn signalled and the guards brought out the crew of the cog – along with Yngvi.

When they saw who it was, the Ancuman immediately fell to their knees and bowed respectfully to the Aebeling. The guards dragged them up and sat them on seats overlooked the training arena. Conn addressed Alfvir. ‘Do you recognize them?’

‘Yes, Yngvi is one of my father’s trusted advisors. He has been on a mission …’ He stopped; regretting having opening his mouth.

‘That’s all right; I know about the mission. Anyway, I have the boat and the gold – and the girl! So I’m going to let you go – I’m keeping the girl though. Some time ago I managed to capture another of your ships off the coast of Gatina – it was much smaller than this one, so I’m going to swap.’

‘You have the girl? But my brother’s plans…’ As he asked he looked at Yngvi who nodded in agreement with Conn. ‘You’re letting me go?’

‘Yes, I am. You leave within the week. The only question is if you have the big boat or the small boat.’ Conn tossed him his broadsword and his armour. ‘If you defeat me – or kill me – you get the big boat. If you don’t, you get the small boat. That is my deal.’

Alfvir strapped on his armour. ‘I guess that I will have to take the big boat then.’

An hour later, Alfvir was struggling to stand; exhausted and battered, he tried one last time to sever Conn’s head with the broadsword but failed yet again; this time looking in shock as the side of Conn’s sword hit him in the side of the head and he fell to his knees, and then his face; semi unconscious.

Conn concluded the exercise with a suggestion. ‘I guess it’s the small boat.’

Conn signalled to the Ancuman to come and take their prince away; retrieving his sword as a trophy. In a few days, the other cog would arrive and when food supplies had been transferred from the bigger vessel to the small, they would be allowed to leave.

The Sythans were also watching the demonstration; suitably impressed, Tuathal asked why he didn’t kill him when he had the chance if they were his enemy.

‘You don’t learn much from dead people. He didn’t know it but he taught me everything he knew – every technique that he was ever taught. I will now teach the wiga who will go into battle against the Ancuman in about ten years. Less of us will die; more of them – always my preferred outcome.’

He walked them to the donjon. ‘Have some lunch – I will be back soon; I’m just going to wash off the mud and dust. I have a proposal for you.’

Conn returned a short while later in the main hall and joined them to eat. They watched him silently as he collected his meal and sat down beside Lile. ‘So tell me again of this war you are fighting.’

Lile began. ‘Our land, as great as it is, has been the home to four different groups of people since memory. We live in the north and we are known as the Sythans – the entire land is known as Sytha. To our south are the Cimmerians; east are the Pontians, while the Samarians and Bactrians live to the west. Also to our east in the mountains live the traitorous Twacuman.’

She said this last bit without delight—almost with resentment. Conn remembered that she had not met any of the Halani since she had been here. Derryth was due any day. It should be an interesting meeting.

‘You don’t like the Twacuman?’

She shook her head; ‘No, the Twacuman have betrayed us. Once they were our allies but they have sided with the Pontians against us.’

Conn was surprised. ‘They fight
with
the Pontians?’

‘No; they do not fight but they let the Pontians ride through their forest and attack the settlements in the Mark of Rila. Our forces cannot follow them so they attack without reprisal.’

‘Mark of Rila? Is it not an Eaorldom?’

Turlough shook his head. ‘We have Eaorldoms and Marks – the Marks are on the border.’

Conn nodded his understanding. He had heard of a similar system before. ‘So is Rila unable to defend its people?’

Lile looked to Turlough, the bocere, who answered for her. ‘Rila is a long way from Sytha. The town is based around a harbor and around the harbor is a lot of rich farming land – some of the best in Sytha. Because it is so far away, it is impossible to defend as it joins the great forest. All attempts to protect the people have failed so they have left and moved to the town of Sytha and its walls. Without the farms, the people cannot eat so they have moved to other parts of the Sytha. Rila is almost deserted now.’