The Marquis (29 page)

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Authors: Michael O'Neill

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: The Marquis
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Inside the inn, he paid for a room. There were a few men inside drinking but only Merians.

‘Tell me, where do the Ancuman like to drink?’

She was confused. ‘Sir, you don’t look like someone who likes the Ancuman. We have the best beer here – and if you would like …company … that can be arranged. Tell me how much you want to spend…’

‘No – I’d just like to spy on them for a bit.’

She laughed. ‘You would be the worst spy in the history of mankind. You’d be as obvious to them as if the Casere himself walked in…’ She stopped in her tracks, and shook her head before continuing. ‘You want the “Red Swan” – it is the Bout Hall as well. They seem to enjoy people in pain.’

Derryth followed Conn down the muddy street until they found the “Red Swan.” Inside the smoky room, two men were pounding it out in the centre. Both were Ancuman and one had finally beaten the other man senseless. He was a huge man and the defeated man was no small man himself.

He paraded around the ring, full of himself. ‘Any other takers? Anyone – all or nothing.’

No one answered.

‘Ah, cowards! All of you. I’m in a room full of small men with flaccid dicks…’

Derryth looked at Conn. ‘You aren’t, are you? You know what happens when you do these things – strange things happen.’

‘He’s Ancuman – how can I resist.’ Conn yelled back. ‘Ancuman – I will take your challenge – if you are still game.’ He looked back at Derryth. ‘We are but leaves in a wind – we go where we are sent.’

‘This is no small wind – it’s a gale.’ He took Conn’s dagger as he walked into the circle.

The Ancuman looked at him. ‘Who are you? You are no Merian scum? Are you Samrian?’

‘True, I am not. I am Conn il Taransay, from Meshech, and I’m giving you the opportunity to be the most famous man in all Axum.’

The big man was confused – he obviously didn’t get around much. Someone else in the room – another Ancuman – had been around. ‘He’s the one they call the Feorrancund, ya fool. He defeated the cavalry bastards in Samria.’

‘In Meshech and in Rasadi I should add. Rasadi was just the other week.’

That knowledge turned the room to total silence.

The big man pumped his fists together. ‘It don’t matter who you think you are – I think you are just meat for my fists. What do you wager?’

‘How about one hundred thousand Ryals in gold. What is your wager?’

‘One hundred thousand Ryals! You can never have too much gold. My wager is this demesne. I am the Steward. I’m waging everything because I’m going to be the richest man in Kishdah when you lie at my feet. ’

Conn could hear Derryth laugh. ‘Told you; strange things happen.’

‘Sounds fair enough.’

Wrapping his fists in swaddling, the bout began – no time limit, no mercy necessary.

It was Conn’s toughest bout so far – he was almost hit several times, and he just evaded a giant crushing bear hug by dropping to the floor and punching the man in the gonads. After that it was one way traffic, and after ten minutes, and a long series of left and rights, the big man slumped to his knees and then to the floor unconscious.

The Sheriff came across and after congratulated him, commenting that it was the best bout he had ever seen. He then bowed and made a vow of allegiance. ‘I am at your service, Steward.’

‘What is his name?’ pointing to the comatose man on the floor.

‘Freyben; he was captain of a ship before becoming Steward a winter ago.’

Conn walked to the bar where Derryth handed him a tankard of beer.

‘So what have I won?’

‘Merin of course – two Ancuman cogs, and twenty theow – including the Mundbora. They are sitting over there.’ He pointed.

‘Twenty – is not that a lot?’

‘Well, it is because of the previous bout.’

‘What about it?’

‘Well, you get all those winnings as well.’

‘And what was it – the wager?’

‘Ten theow – and a cog.’

‘Ten theow?’ Conn hated repeating the obvious.

‘The loser was a theow-trader – and a notorious one. My former steward wanted his theow so was prepared to risk everything for it. I will fetch them for you.’

After the Sheriff had departed, Derryth laughed. ‘I told you it was an ill wind – and that bad things would happen. But you don’t listen, do you?’

The sheriff soon returned. The women bowed as they arrived, and they looked a little lost and confused. Most significantly, they were a mixture of Larsans, Merians and Sythans. It was probably the Sythans that made the Ancuman risk so much – and he suspected he knew why. Conn arranged for them to be taken back to his inn for a bath and a rest. They would talk in the morning.

They then had to drink a lot, as all his new vassals came and celebrated with him. They didn’t seem to regret the loss of their former Steward; who sat and stared all night in vengeful rage. He was also drinking and consoling the man that he had defeated earlier. He and his companions made many trips in and out. They also didn’t drink much – which was strange. Derryth made a trip out and back to the cog. When he returned, he joined Conn for more drinks before they, apparently drunk, staggered back to the inn at first light.

Arms on shoulders, they sang the bawdy songs they had learnt the previous night. ‘If there is a time for bagpipes, this is it.’ Conn offered.

Derryth shook his head. ‘As far as I can tell, there is no time suitable for bagpipes.’ He changed subjects, ‘One hundred yards to the right – an arrow head. Derryth’s night vison was indispensable in time like this.

‘Got it’ Conn burst into song again and as they passed between the next two dwellings they fell over in ruckus laughter between the buildings. On their feet in an instance, they ran around the back of the building until they had reached where the assailants were. There were six Ancuman and they were concerned that their targets had not resurfaced.

One spoke. ‘They might be drunk but it doesn’t take that long to stand up. Useless scum.’

Conn and Derryth were only three yards behind them before someone sensed their presence. Nonetheless, it was short battle – the six Ancuman were simply no match for the pair, even with sword against dagger or staff. Derryth always had a staff with him when off his horse. The six men lay dead on the ground. Noticing the town warning bell, Conn rang it and within a few minutes town guards raced to their position. Seeing the dead men, Conn told then to fetch the Sherriff and report back to him in the morning. The dead included the former Steward and the theow-trader. They hadn’t taken losing well.

Chapter 17

Conn and Derryth were having breakfast with Hallvi and Wilric, having just returned from their morning bath, when the Sherriff and Reeve arrived at the inn to gather further information about the unfortunate events some hours previous.

They told him everything they knew. ‘And you heard about the cogs trying to leave?’ Conn asked as he drank coffee with his oatmeal.

‘Yes,’ the Sherriff had been busy after finding the bodies, ‘I am thankful for the assistance your wiga – Kerchians I believe – provided my men in preventing that from happening. The Ancuman sailors are all being held for your deliberations. Stealing is a serious crime.’

The Reeve stood to leave. ‘Sir, I must leave to finalize arrangements for your formal welcome in the hall. I will come and get you when we are ready. Before I go, is there anything you require?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact there is. Can you send for the Mundbora of Merin in Chois? I’d like her to be in attendance.’

He appeared surprised. ‘Steward, I’m not sure that will be possible. Felda will certainly not come at my request. The former Steward created a very bad relationship with our neighbour.’

‘Felda will come if I ask. Tell her that the Steward of Tashke requires her attendance.’

The Reeve remained confused. ‘You are the Steward of Tashke? And the Marquis of Rasadi – but you have Kerchian wiga?’

‘Yes. All of that. I’m also the Marquis of Kerch. And coincidently the Steward of Merin in Chois; so it would seem that I am currently Steward of both Merins. Felda is currently my proxy.’

The Reeve and Sherriff looked at each other in bewilderment. They then both turned to look at him. ‘Steward, would it be that we will be reunited?’

‘That is my intention.’

‘Which way?’ The Sherriff asked somewhat anxiously.

‘Chois; I have a theow from Chois who would be Mundbora of Merin. She might be happy now if she has both halves. She will not be happy if she has none. Can you see my problem?’

The Reeve seemed relieved, and smiled and bowed again. ‘Steward, I beg your leave. I will go and fetch Felda myself. I will not take no for an answer.’

‘You could also tell her I’ll send over a hundred Kerchian to provide an honour guard?’

‘I will if I need to.’

The departure of the Reeve was followed by the Sherriff. Conn asked him to supervise the Ancuman sailors as they prepared to depart for a return trip. He was giving them one ship, and they would all be on it. Alone again, Conn turned his attention to half of his new theow. He had yet to meet the theow of the former steward, though he understood they were mostly Merians and two Ancuman.

The women that belonged to the theow trader looked a lot more comfortable in the morning than the previous night. Amongst the group were six Merians. They were not of Blood but young and nubile. He had them introduce themselves.

After the Merians, a Larsan woman, about twenty five, said her name was Oselda il Malla.

‘Malla? I’ve met Eadstan and Eaghan. How are you connected to them?’

She looked at him very strangely, as everyone did when he made statements they never expected, before answering. ‘Eadstan is my uncle. My father is a thane in Malla. I was captured by theow raiders five years ago.’

‘Then I will let your uncle and father know that you are now safe and well.’

The woman promptly burst into tears, and her companions raced to comfort her. Derryth looked at him shaking his head, and before he spoke Conn stopped him. ‘Wait before you scold me, Derryth, wait, this is not going to get any better. You can do it later.’

As they talked, wiga walked in with bags and trunks and put them down in the inn. Conn had requested that all the belongings of the former Theow trader be brought to him from his ship, as well as things that belonged to the theow. He noticed the girls look curiously at the boxes.

He then asked the last three women to introduce themselves. They were all Sythan.

One of them introduced herself as Cynrys, and told him that they had been kidnapped from central Sytha, near the border with Pontia. It was five years since they had seen their homes, and they had been in their former, now deceased, master’s hird for just a year after four years with the Ancuman who is now the Marquis of Kapisi. He sold them to raise funds for his new demesne.

As she spoke, Conn got up and walked to the trunks. He indicated that Derryth should help him and he whispered in his ear as he walked back to the girls. Derryth got the siblings to help him and they upended the trunk and started looking.

‘Would I be right in thinking that you three are actually Folgere?’

‘Yes! How do you know?’

‘The Axum male Folgere have an unnatural and unhealthy desires for both virgins and the Folgere of other Gyden. The only reason that the Steward would have risked so much is because your three are Folgere. Every fornication with you three would have given him enough stamina to ravish the rest of his hird every night. He would have sold a couple of you for a huge profit in Kishdah.  I’m surprised that you haven’t already been taken there already.’

They looked at each other curiously. ‘The theow trader has been trying to leave but a serious of misfortunes have prevented that. Lastly, his sails tore so he made land here to get them repaired.’ They smiled. ‘He considered us bad luck. I think that is why he was risking us.’

Derryth came over and nodded, handing him a small package.  He looked inside.

‘There is only one way to prove that a woman is a Folgere is with her haligdom.’ He lifted one out of the package and the three women started crying. ‘No one can destroy it and not even an Axum would separate you completely from your haligdom. I knew it had to be here somewhere.’ He went to the crying women and gently placed the leather strip around their necks. As soon as the haligdoms touched the bare flesh of their bosoms, they stopped crying and started to wail. By the time he had finished, they were all together on the floor, in a huddle, wailing their eyes out. Conn walked over to Derryth. He was wiping tears from his eyes.

‘What are you crying for?’

‘Crying? I’m not crying; I’ve got dust in my eyes. Anyway, I was going to ask if…’ He turned around and was shocked to find Hallvi at his shoulder.

She also had tears in her eyes. ‘I presume you want something?’

‘Umm, yes, some coffee.’

She smiled. ‘So I look like a tavern wench to you now, do I? Very well, Wothbora, I’ll get your coffee. But you are taking advantage of my kindness. ’ She then turned and went to fetch coffee.

Conn looked at Derryth inquisitively. He waved him away. ‘Don’t ask, it is very complicated.’

All Conn could do was laugh. Sometime the boot was on the other foot.

When the women had regained composure, Conn had a final question.

‘Do any of you know Lile il Sytha – daughter of the Healdend of Sytha?’

They shared a look of confusion. ‘Yes; she left our Cirice just before we were kidnapped – she left to be a bedda for the Bretwalda of Axum. How do you know of her?’

‘I rescued her from the Ancuman who were taking her to Kishdah. She is now my bedda – and mother of two beautiful little girls; I am also the Marquis of Rila, and she is in Sytha at the moment. I will take you to her.’

They started wailing again.

~oo0oo~

The Reeve returned mid-afternoon and escorted them to the main roundhouse. At the door two guards ceremoniously asked who wished entry and the Reeve answered for him.

‘The claimant to be Steward of Merin’.

Inside the room was full. At main table sat a young girl, all alone. She looked sad but strong. Conn guessed she was about eight.

Cenbert, as was the Reeve’s name, did the instruction. ‘Elkilda, heir to Mundbora in Utika, I present Conn il Taransay, Steward of Tashke and Marquis of Kerch in Meria. He has defeated Freyben il Axum, Steward of Meria, and makes the claim to be your father in his stead. Do you accept him?’

Being under the age of sixteen, he could not claim her in the usual way but could adopt her instead. In some ways it was a better arrangement for him because he ruled alone.

Elkilda got out of her seat and walked over to him. She looked him up and down. ‘You are very unusual looking.’ She then went and shook the hands of Derryth, Hallvi and Wilric as they stood behind him. ‘Your friends have kind eyes. I will accept you.’ She held her hand out and she took him to the main seat and they sat down together.

Conn looked at Derryth, smiling. ‘What’s wrong with my eyes?’

Derryth smiled back. ‘They are blue – cold and harsh. Like looking into the ocean.’

‘I’m sorry I asked now.’

The crowd had been clapping. The Reeve then introduced the Twacuman and Kerchians to the crowd and they all sat at table around the room. Before he went to introduce the main staff members of Meria, and the members of his hird, he introduced Felda, Mundbora of Merin and her Steward.

They went to sit at table and away from them and Conn redirected them. He told them to sit at his side.

A very confused Mundbora did so. In fact everyone was confused.

When he had a chance to explain, he stood. He firstly explained the war in Rasadi and how the entire Merian horde had been defeated, and that the Mundborak was dead.

‘Now, if I understand the rules correctly, I can take any of Blood and become Steward of Utika. Therefore, at this moment, with Elkilda as my daughter, I am effectively Steward of Utika.’ He looked at Cenbert. ‘Reeve, would that be your understanding?’

A surprised Reeve thought for a moment, asked a few clarifying questions and then agreed. ‘I see no argument against that suggestion.’

Conn nodded his thanks and continued. ‘My first act as Steward is give the west half of Merin back to the east half.’ The crowd broke into a cascade of noise. Conn held up his hand, and they went quiet. ‘Firstly, I have been talking to people this morning and as far as I can determine, this entire valley was part of Chois – and it was simply the actions of a single Steward of Merin who lost this half due to his incompetence and greed – and a feud with his brother. Is that not the case?’

Everyone nodded. It was the truth – three generations previous.

‘Secondly, as Marquis of Kerch, I give you my word that no-one will be unfairly disadvantaged because of the change.’ They greeted that with claps.

‘And thirdly, as it turns out, I am already the Steward of Merin in Chois, and my daughter will be your Munbora in sixteen years.’ That brought more laughter.

‘Lastly, I am appointing Felda, current Mundbora of Merin in Chois to act in my stead until I am able to return. To be Mundbora of the combined Merin.’ He turned and looked at her and her bemused Steward. ‘Felda, do you accept?’

He couldn’t answer – she was too busy crying, but she nodded.

Conn then turned to the very confused girl. ‘Elkilda, I’m going on an adventure. Would you like to come?’

She stood and clutched her hands with glee. ‘An adventure? Yes, please. Are your friends coming too?’

With that, Conn took the girl and went and sat with Derryth as Cenbert tried to regain some control. He had to go through his whole introduction of people spiel again.

~oo0oo~

The junk arrived in harbour the next morning and Conn had already spoken to some of the Ancuman sailors. He appointed a new captain, and got them to ensure that the smallest of the cogs in the harbour was seaworthy and equipped with enough food and water for the trip back to Kishdah. They understood why they were being set free after he explained about their “extra” cargo.

When Herfina and her wiga arrived on dock, they were immediately transferred to the cog. The last to embark, Herfina stood with Conn as several large crates were carried on to the deck. Inside were the swords of all the Ancuman wiga that had died under his watch, carefully wrapped in oilcloth to prevent rust.

She was almost dumbstruck. ‘I don’t know what to say. I will return them. Their families will be grateful.’

Conn had also released two Ancuman theow the former Steward had in his hird. He had one already; that was enough. He asked her to look after them, and she agreed.

She was the last to get on the boat. She turned to him. ‘The other night… what if I am with child? I will not have my child slaughtered on some altar by those …Folgere … because of who father may be.’

‘What makes you think you might?’ It had been a long night but he wasn’t usually that effective.

‘I’m not sure, but a couple of days ago things seemed different… I can’t explain.’

Conn understood. Amongst the many weird things about the haligdoms was that during pregnancy the link got weak; probably so as not destroy the baby as it was growing. ‘Find Guntor il Saba; he will be somewhere in Saba.’

‘Guntor il Saba.’ She nodded. ‘Farewell, Marquis.’ She walked up the gangway and was gone. The gangway removed, the cog edged its way out to sea, and was soon gone.

Derryth joined him as they watched the cog leave. ‘What was all that about?’

Conn turned and held Derryth by the shoulder. ‘My friend, I think Herfina is pregnant.’

For once Derryth didn’t laugh. ‘Okay. Now that is weird. What are we going to do about an Ancuman child of yours? How do we protect them?’

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