Heartwood (5 page)

He took his seat again as the Militis joined hands once again for the final ritual. Everyone bent their heads, but Chonrad found his gaze drawn up to where the sun filtered through the coloured glass in the roof, and he wished fervently he was outside in the fresh air.

The Veriditas ended with a closing prayer. Even if he had been able to understand Dulcis, however, he wouldn't have been able to concentrate on what she was saying. The mix of emotions he had felt when watching the ceremony combined inside him with the nervousness and anticipation of the coming Congressus, and his head buzzed as his brain kept switching from thinking about the Arbor to what was going to happen next.

He wasn't the only one getting jumpy either. Even as Dulcis finished and the Militis gave a final chant, the noise in the Temple grew louder as everyone began talking at once, and there was general shifting in the seats. As the sound of the Quartus Campana rang through the Castellum, the Militis left the inner ring and headed down the central path towards the oak doors, and gradually everyone began to file out.

Chonrad waited until the crowd had died down, then made his way outside, Fulco following. The sun was now high in the sky, and he blinked as he came out into the Quad, the fresh air and the noise of the crowd a vivid contrast to the quietness and coolness of the Temple.

There was to be a short interval for lunch before the Congressus began. Heartwood had erected a special food tent for the visitors, and so he decided to make his way there to grab a snack before he went to the Curia. He walked along the central pathway, counting off the roads as he did so.

The Baillium was constructed in a similar fashion to the Temple, with roads in a series of concentric rings around the central Castellum. Buildings of all shapes and sizes filled the space in between.

To the rear, nearest to the steep backdrop of the mountains, were the workshops: the fullers, weavers, dyers and blacksmiths who made the clothing, weapons and armour for Heartwood, with the furnaces near to the river for cooling the metal.

Around the sides were the stables, chicken houses, cow and pig pens, the grain stores, the armoury, the offices for the steward who dealt with the business side of things, lodgings for the Exercitus when they were at home, and the two huge arenas where the Militis carried out their Exerceo, or daily weapons and riding practice.

At the front of the Baillium was the Curia meeting place on the south side, and also the Hospitalia, or visitors' lodgings. However these were nowhere near big enough to accommodate all the visitors present this weekend, and brightly coloured tents filled the grassed areas.

The place heaved with people. Chonrad picked his way carefully through the horse dung, turned at the second ring road and threaded through the tents on the south side of the complex to find the large one flying Heartwood's flag – a gold-coloured banner, emblazoned with a green oak leaf. The tent was huge, a scarlet monstrosity stretched between about a hundred tent poles, but already, through the pinned-up tent flaps, he could see it was busy.

At the entrance to the tent, a long table had been set up with trays of cold meats, loaves of bread, bowls of fruit and huge pitchers of ale. Leaning over, he grabbed a chicken leg and, leaving Fulco to fill up a plate several inches high with food, he ducked under the flap of the tent.

Inside, he looked around, recognising a lot of the faces. The other lords of Laxony were already there, as well as the High Lord, Hariman, busy tucking into what looked like a whole loaf of bread. Few Wulfengar were there, however. He recognised Grimbeald, Lord of the Highlands, the land furthest from the Wall, but none of the others were present, and Raedwulf, High Lord of Wulfengar, was conspicuous by his absence. Grimbeald looked decidedly uncomfortable there on his own, Chonrad thought with not a little amusement, the Wulfian was obviously regretting his decision to go there rather than to his own tent.

The four High Council members of Hanaire were all present, though, distinguishable by their height and their bright blond hair, clad in mail topped with the green tunic of Hanaire. The rest of the people present were all Militis, armoured and serious, the oak leaf tattoo clear on the outside of their left wrists.

Chonrad saw Procella talking to Valens, along with two heavyset male Militis that were so alike he knew they must be twins. They were both young knights, probably late twenties, he thought, and both had the same bright blue eyes and curly brown hair with an intriguing lock that fell into exactly the same place on their forehead. He walked over to join them, picking up a tankard of ale along the way.

 

II

Procella smiled as he came up. “Well, Lord Barle? Did you enjoy the ceremony?”

“Er, yes,” Chonrad said, not about to admit his real thoughts to the Militis. “It was… interesting.”

One of the twins nodded. “I have seen twenty-one Veriditas ceremonies now, and they never fail to move me.”

Valens introduced the knights with a twinkle in his eye. “These are Gavius and Gravis, Custodes at Heartwood.”

“Which is which?” asked Chonrad. He realised the jest had been planned when all four of them answered in unison, “It doesn't matter!”

“This is obviously a standing joke to tease visitors with,” Chonrad said good-naturedly.

One of the twins shrugged. “Yes and no. Truly we sometimes think we were one person in the womb who was by some miracle of nature divided at birth.”

“But, if you really want to know,” said the other twin, “I'm Gravis, and I have the Heartwood tattoo on my left wrist.”

“But mine is on my right,” said Gavius. “It is the only way to tell us apart.”

“Well, I am the stronger knight.”

“And I have the better sense of humour,” the other rejoined. Chonrad laughed as they walked off to get some food, bickering good-naturedly.

He looked around the room. “I see the men of Wulfengar have decided to dine alone,” he said to Valens and Procella in a lower voice.

Valens shrugged. “As was expected. We did of course extend the invitation to all parties but we did not really think they would accept.” He inclined his head towards Grimbeald. “Except for him.”

“Why is he here?” Chonrad studied the Lord of the Highlands as he talked stiffly to one of the Militis. Grimbeald was short and thickset, with a full head of dark brown hair and a long, bushy beard to match. Chonrad knew the man was younger than himself, but thought the Wulfian looked much older. He was almost as wide as he was tall, in his armour, but in spite of being in a room where almost everyone was taller than him, he still radiated power.

“The Highlands have always been the most affable towards Laxony,” said Procella.

“But he must realise it makes his own position vulnerable, dining with the ‘enemy',” said Chonrad.

Valens shrugged. “From what I understand, there is not a lot in the Highlands apart from sheep and hills. I do not know that the other Lords of the Five are pounding on his door.”

Chonrad's retort was cut short as a young woman Militis came up and touched Valens gently on the arm. “Valens? Dulcis says we should start heading for the Curia shortly.”

“Of course.” Valens indicated Chonrad. “Have you met the Lord Barle? Chonrad, this is Beata. She is one of the deans at Heartwood.”

Chonrad was surprised, but polite enough to hide it as he shook her hand. She seemed very young to be a Dean. There were four at Heartwood, responsible for the general welfare of the Militis, a person to whom they could take their grievances and general day-to-day problems of living in a cloistered community.

Her handshake was firm, however, and as he looked at her face more closely, he saw fine lines around her eyes and mouth, and one or two grey hairs amongst the brown. Maybe she wasn't as young as he'd first suspected. She turned to talk to Procella, and he observed her strong profile with its slightly upturned nose, her full mouth and deep grey eyes. Did she know how beautiful she was? Probably not; the Militis were not raised to be interested in their physical appearance. However, she could have taken on any one of the powdered and rouged women at the court of Barle in a beauty pageant.

He hid a smile as he thought what she might say if he told her that. Dressed in full mail over a thick leather tunic, her light brown hair tied tightly at the nape of her neck, her appearance was clearly not the most important thing on her mind that day.

“Shall we go?” asked Valens.

Chonrad nodded, grabbing a buttered piece of bread from the table and munching on it as he followed Valens out of the tent. Fulco put his plate down hurriedly and followed him out, snatching up a piece of pork as he did so and continuing to eat as they walked. As they joined the main road, the Quintus Campana rang, and all over Heartwood, people started heading for the Curia.

The road to the Curia was lined with a series of poles decorated with the flags of all the countries and lords visiting that day. Chonrad joined the throng, finding himself next to Grimbeald at one point, and he nodded a greeting to him. Grimbeald nodded back, but didn't smile. The atmosphere seemed to be changing, Chonrad thought. There had been an almost exultant feel in the air during the Veriditas, and lunch had had a jovial informality to it. Now, however, everyone's voices were hushed, and a seriousness settled on the crowd like a heavy blanket. He looked up at the sky, not surprised to see clouds moving over the face of the sun, which had now passed its zenith. It looked like they were in for a storm. He just hoped the thundery atmosphere wasn't reflected inside the Curia.

The Curia was an interesting building, if you could call it that. It consisted of a very large ring of oak trees whose branches had grown over the centre and had knitted together to make a roof. Because the oak trees had not yet budded and the roof was presently just a mesh of bare branches, a canopy of cloth had been erected in case of rain.

As in the Temple, a channel of water had been cut around the inner edge of the oak trees. A removable floor made from wooden boards slotted together had been erected over the grass in the centre. On this twenty podiums had been placed, each topped with a single flag.

This, then, thought Chonrad, was where the lords of the Twelve Lands, the four lords of Hanaire, and presumably four Militis, would stand. Heartwood clearly intended the Congressus to be a small affair, and had sectioned off the areas outside the ring of trees with large, colourful screens to stop the rest of their visitors watching. Several stern Custodes stood at the entrance to the Curia, and clearly they were only going to let the sixteen leaders and Militis pass.

Chonrad was allowed to enter, although Fulco had to remain outside, much to his disgust, but Chonrad reassured him he would call if he was needed. After all, it wasn't fair for him to have a bodyguard and no one else. He walked through the oaks and across a steady plank that covered part of the water channel to the wooden floor, seeing the red Laxonian flag with his silver stag embroidered in the middle pinned above one of the podiums, and went over and stood behind it. The five Wulfengar lords were already there, faces ominously stony, and as he took his place, the last two Laxonian lords arrived to take theirs. The four Hanaire Council members came in together and each stood behind his or her banner. The Militis were the last to arrive, coming in at the end.

Valens, Dulcis, Procella, and one other male Militis Chonrad had not yet met came in and took the empty podiums that flew with the gold flags embroidered with the green oak leaf. He looked with interest at the knight whose name he didn't know – he had only one arm, the left cut off at the elbow, the loose sleeve of his tunic sewn up.

Several other Militis, include Beata and the twins, stationed themselves around the edge of the ring, presumably as a deterrent against any violence that might break out. He looked around him and saw he had been placed beside the lords of the two lands that stood either side of the Isenbard Wall: the Wulfengar Lord of the Lowlands, Leofric, and the Laxonian Lord of Hannon, Ogier. Heartwood was obviously hoping he would be able to intercede between the two should tempers rise.

Valens raised his hand. The room gradually fell quiet.

“Welcome,” he said, his voice ringing out through the Curia. To Chonrad's surprise, he spoke in Laxonian. “I thank you all for taking the time to come to Heartwood for this Congressus, which we hope will bring peace to our lands. I know not all of you can speak Heartwood, so I have chosen to use the language of the majority of the lords present – that of Laxony.”

He opened his mouth to carry on, but before he could go any further, one of the Wulfengar lords stepped forward from his podium across the other side of the circle from Chonrad. It was Bertwald, the same knight he had already had dealings with that morning. Chonrad assumed he was going to object to the use of his enemy's language, but instead he announced in a loud voice, “You might as well stop there, Imperator. For I will take no further part in these talks while these podiums are filled with
women
.” He practically spat the last word.

He spoke in Wulfian, but Chonrad knew the language well enough to understand what he had said. He stared in disbelief as whispers and then shouts of indignation began to rise from around the Curia. He had known Bertwald was opposed to these talks, but he had not expected such an open and aggressive confrontation so early in the proceedings. He looked across at Procella, who stood next to the Wulfian lord's podium. Her eyes had narrowed and her right hand rested on the pommel of her sword, the Heartwood tattoo on her left clearly visible from across the room.

Valens stepped down slowly from his podium onto the centre of the wooden floor. He raised his hand to ask for quiet and voices quickly hushed those who were talking, so they could hear what the Heartwood leader had to say in return.

“Bertwald, Lord of the Flatlands, you knew before you came that women stand in Heartwood alongside the men.” He did not mention the same was true in Laxony and Hanaire, although he looked pointedly around the circle, taking in the women who were present.