The Eaorl (The Casere Book 2) (40 page)

Not surprisingly, the Rakians had accepted their defeat with grace – times had been very tough recently in Rakia due to the defeat in the war and the subsequent blockages. It didn’t take them long to realize that there could only be upsides with the ending of prohibition of trade with Rakia. Conn made the point by ensuring that after the wiga, the next things to arrive in the harbors were dozens of merchant vessels bringing in food and other consumables. He also instructed the traders to sell to existing merchants within the town – and if they lacked the funds to purchase from the traders, they were directed to the Meshech Insurance and Finance Company – one of the first new enterprises to be set up.

‘So I can’t tell Fallon that I agree to his demands and we’ll leave tomorrow?’ Conn was composing a message to be sent to Fallon as the deadline was the next morning.

Derryth shook his head. ‘No – you are the Feorhhyrde – and the Feorhhyrde cannot lie.’

‘Just a white lie. Okay, how about “We have determined a satisfactory way to meet your demands and will arrive in the morning to finalize appropriate measure to effect the transfer of administrational functions from one party to the other” – will that suffice?’

Derryth contemplated the information. ‘I have no idea what that means so it will be fine. Not that I think that Fallon will understand it either.’

Conn laughed; ‘I thought you might say that. Now to work; we have a castle to liberate, and some hostages to rescue.’

Conn send the messenger away with the message and then moved with Derryth to the small building they had purloined which as one of few left next to the lake. A well had been dug in the middle of the ground floor. From there a canal had been built to the lake; carefully. It had been built at night only and covered during the day so that no one would notice the excavations. The inhabitants of the castle were none the wiser as to its creation or its purpose.

Conn arrived inside and prepared to have a nap. The operation would commence at what would somewhere be called around three in the morning. If there was anything that Conn missed, it was a watch.

At the appropriate hour, and Conn ready for his swim, ‘unfortunately’ a house a hundred yards upwind from the lake suddenly caught fire. It was quite isolated so no other houses were in danger; and ‘strangely’ the smoke from the cottage was immense and billowed towards the keep provided a smoke screen over the lake. This was distraction number one.

Under the cover of the smoke – which didn’t last very long, Conn swum as quickly as he could across the lake to the corner tower, towing a guide rope. There he waited until Derryth and the other wiga swam could swim slowly underwater with the diving bell.

It was time for distraction number two – and this was Njil’s responsibility. He had found the oldest vessel he could and with the help of his Twacuman advisors, had rigged the vessel with fireworks.

Since Conn’s arrival, he had been very careful about the deployment and exploitation of fireworks or gunpowder. In fact, the only people who understood how to manufacture either item were craeftiga in Halani because they were the only ones that he trusted with the knowledge. They had no greed or lust, and would not be tempted to misuse the ‘invention’. Consequently, this was only the third time that anyone outside of Halani has seen its impact or power – the dam wall in Kadesh, the palisades in Motya, and now Rakians would witness the first fireworks display in Meshech.

It didn’t take long for a fire and smoke to rise from the ship sitting anchored in the harbour, and soon after a series of small explosions disrupted the night’s slumber; each one getting bigger and more colourful; reds and yellows and whatever colours Conn could source materials for. Each explosion was high enough for every wiga on duty to see and to turn around to look; leaving the lake totally unobserved for the duration of the underwater swim by Derryth and the other nine wiga. They would inevitable disturb the water and create bubbles so should be noticeable if you were looking; the water was getting clearer day by day.

By the time the commotion over the harbour was concluded, everyone were safely ensconced along the castle wall. They were safe and unseen here; but there was little time for complacency. With six wiga fanned out searching – all connected by a rope – they searched along the base of the tower; going down under the water to search for the opening for the well.

It did not take very long, and the message was passed along the line for Conn to investigate. It was small; only a single person would be able to enter at a time. As they had trained, Conn fixed the rope to his waist, grabbed a sheep gup win ballade that had been converted into an airbladder and headed into the tunnel. With no light and little air, Conn felt his way into the cavity and pulled himself along the opening. It was on an incline and Conn’s estimation of it being less than thirty feet long was correct. Conn soon found his head popping out of the water into a cavern.

Sucking in air, and wedging himself on the stone walls, Conn reached into a waterproof bag that he carried and withdrew a candle and a holder. With his one hand candle striker that he had only just invented, he was able to get the candle lit, and as light filled the cavern he was finally able to take in his surroundings. It was probably no more than four yards square, and from the top of the water to the ceiling it would have been nearly two yard. The ceiling was ancient timber, and a trap door was visible. Conn pulled on the rope to let them know that all was okay, only three tugs as all would fit in the well at the same time. While he waited found somewhere to screw in the candle holder and placed the candle. Almost immediately Derryth and a young wiga arrived.

After he had regained his breath, Derryth protested as he shivered. ‘The next time you have another hair brained scheme like this, count me out. I almost died out there!’

‘From lack of air?’

‘No – the cold. The water is freezing! Those of us who live in mountains are not natural swimmers you know.’

Conn knew; it had taken him some time to get them to swim properly. ‘Anyway, the next part of the plan should warm us up!’

Conn had identified the trap door and they had practised the opening procedure. They could hear no foot print or other sounds so Conn and Derryth used the bamboo staffs they had brought with them to force up the trap door wide enough to place in a small grappling hook. The young Twacuman then pulled his way up to the door and pushed it open, and hoisted himself into the room. A rope ladder was secured inside the room and dropped down the hatch. Conn pulled himself up as Derryth signalled that the rest should followed – as should the weapons. As wiga arrived they were hoisted up through the trap door, as were the waterproof container they towed. Soon everyone was in the room changing out of their wet clothes, and rearming themselves. The whole operation had taken less than 40 minutes.

Luckily the room had signs of traffic but no signs of habitation. Rearmed, Conn led the group slowly out of the tower. Rakian wiga who had been taking a quick look over the harbour were now returning to their posts and as they walked into the tower they found a sword at their neck. Conn indicated that they be quiet. He had a couple take off their uniforms and two of his wiga quickly put them on and ran to the guard posts that they should have been occupying. Nothing should look out of place. They did drop a small flag over the side however; the yellow sun indicating that stage two should start.

With the prisoners bound they headed out. Although it was still night, the sun would soon make its appearance over the horizon – they had about thirty minutes before they could be seen easily It was still fairly well lit inside the walls and Conn could see the outline of the buildings; a patchwork of old and new. They left the tower onto the parapets and down the staircases that led down into the bailey. Dressed in the black leather tunics over their chainmail; they were almost invisible, and quickly arrived at their destination. A few errant guards were quickly and silently non-lethally subdued. Their target building was an old warehouse. It was thatched and built on a mound and a stone base. Being one of the larger building in the bailey it was ideal to hold the hostages. Conn sent Derryth down one side and him the other and as they arrived at the corners they could both see the Ancuman guards that stood at the doors. There were four. Whilst they were in armour, they did not have on their helmets. They would have to die quickly.

On his signal six arrows flew and the thump of arrows hitting skulls resounded and stopped. The four wiga fell without a sound. Conn and Derryth raced forward to the door and pulled the dead guards away from the opening. He knocked on the door as a signal to Elva inside and opened it and entered while Derryth and the others stayed guard outside. The room was lit with candles and lamps, and the forty odd people were easy to see sitting on the ground. As expected, they were all awake and ready to leave; Elva had received the message that he had smuggled in.

Elva hugged him as he arrived.

Conn waved them forward and Fainche led them outside; Conn and Elva brought up the rear. They quickly filed out of the room and turned back down the narrow alleys towards the corner tower. Most were up the staircase and along the parapet before they were noticed. A few guards on duty called out and demanded identification. Their answer was an arrow but inevitably the warning bells rang out and the castle stirred. This was also Conn’s signal and he fired an arrow into the air that exploded up high to let his forces know that the hostages had been released. As soon as the flare hit the sky, stage three, and all hell truly broke loose at the front gates.

Catapults, improved and lethal, rained boulders directly at the timber gate, and they didn’t stand a chance. They were quickly smashed. Crossing the drawbridge was still a problem as it was raised and destroyed. A thousand arrows hit the barbicans and a surge of mail covered wiga marching in a Tetsudo formation headed for the gap. Any guards were soon overcome and wiga dived in to the moat and dragged ropes across. At the end of the ropes were long bamboo logs that were quickly across the moat span, and joined together to make a footbridge for the first wave of Conn’s fyrd to invade the castle.

Leaving his squad to guard the hostages, Conn and Derryth sprinted back down inside the castle; quickly covering their black tunics with the white Tabard and its yellow sun that indicates Conn and Derryth. He didn’t want to be shot by his own people. Sheathing his bow Conn raced with his Claymore in his hand; and as he encountered Ancuman they were soon to feel his wrath. By the time he arrived at the donjon, three hundred wiga had surged into the bailey; their cry of surrender or die was received by any Rakians as an invitation only to surrender. The Ancuman were not about to do the same but the battle was one sided and they fell with a chest of arrows. Conn and Derryth raced up the stairs of the donjon and the remaining guards quickly fell. Fallon’s personal Ancuman guards were the last to die and soon Fallon stood with nothing between him and Conn but a woman; at whose neck he held a knife.

Conn waved down the bows and put away the Claymore; he looked at Fallon in disgust. Fallon was old for a Priecuman but then he had a lot of Ancuman heritage. He was also darker in skin colour and a bit taller than the typical Rakian or Gatinan. His skin was dirty, his hair wild and his eyes darted from side to side. He did not look a well man.

‘Fallon, it is over; you have lost. Surrender.’

‘Feorrancund! I will never surrender’ He screamed. ‘This is supposed to be all mine and you have taken it. You, a feorrancund, have usurped what was promised to me! TO ME! LEAVE NOW OR SHE DIES.’

Fallon was clearly mad. Conn opened up his mind to the Gyden. Since he had arrived in Rakiak there had been nothing; but here in the castle it was strong. In fact so strong that he almost stumbled from the force that hit him. It was his old friend; she was not happy, and she was confused.

‘YOU again! I thought I killed you last time. I have not felt you for some time.’

Conn didn’t answer.

She continued. ‘
You can’t defeat me! If it ends here I will be back. I will give back to my people what they deserve. The Priecuman cannot have what belongs to my children.’

Conn shut her out.

‘Fallon, why do you hold a knife to that girl’s neck – what is she to me?’

‘This whore? This is Andsware – daughter of that traitor Ailbe. He and his incompetent son would be very upset if you are responsible for her death. It might spoil your foul friendship, I think.’

Conn knew of Andsware – Ailbe daughter, she had been given to Fallon’s eldest son as bedda. Conn remembered hearing that she had reportedly died.

‘Doesn’t Ailbe think that his daughter is dead?’

Mad Fallon moved his hand from her stomach to her breast, cupping it. Andsware looked disgusted but not surprised. ‘When my son didn’t need her anymore, I kept her for my personal use – a noble receptacle for my seed. I wasn’t giving her back…’ He laughed, ‘Course, I did swap her a couple of times for a night with one of those bitches from the Southern Isles – ignorant proud sluts… who are they to decline my seed…’

Conn shook his head sadly. The presence of the Gyden had deranged him. ‘Oh, this is silly, Fallon. My last offer. Surrender or die.’

‘If I am to die, Andsware dies. Be in on your head.’ Fallon had the dagger a few inches from her neck and as he made to move the dagger, Conn drew and threw a dagger from his shoulder holster. It flew directly into Fallon’s eye, and in the moment he had before he fell dead, he dropped the knife. Andsware unemotionally watched him fall to the ground. She then kicked and spat on him.