‘So you think you can help us with our little problem?’ Kadmah asked.
Conn agreed. ‘Who do you suspect is behind it all?’
Wulfwald seemed sure. ‘There is only one candidate really; the Marquis of Rasadi. Upstart that he is; his mother is from Avanti, while his father …’
Conn interrupted. “Ancuman?’
Wulfwald was surprised. ‘Yes indeed. How did you know?’
‘The Eaorl of Matya told me. There is an old saying. “All roads lead to Rome”. In this case, Axum. What is his name?’
‘Vigulfur. He was able to convince the Eaorl of Avanti and the Healdend that he could protect the border with Meria – and had himself ennobled as a Marquis in order to do so. The only thing he doesn’t have is the ring. He wants that as well.’
‘I’m sure. So what is the Healdend doing about the assassination attempts?’
‘He has sent out numerous patrols and search parties – but of course the person in charge of the search party is Vigulfur. I doubt that he is looking very hard. He is a capable wiga and he had earned his position as head of the Home Guard a long time before becoming Marquis. We cannot remove him.’
‘I understand that you have two nieces?’
‘Yes, Egilda and Piegi. Egilda is the accepted heir by most but Piegi disputes that she is the second born. She is extremely gullible and has been befriended by Vigulfur. There is some suggestion that she has been far more familiar with him than would seem to be proper for the next Wealdend.’
‘So if Vigulfur had a ring, and if he could convince everyone that Piegi is the eldest, he could usurp the demesne?’
‘And of course if Egilda died there would be no contention. On this my brother has taken the possibility seriously, and she has constant guards. She is in no immediate danger.’
‘Who is likely to give Vigulfur a ring?’
He thought for a moment. ‘Only Egrys il Avanti. Egrys has always been sickly and would not be chosen anyway – but if he could be induced to give the ring to Vigulfur.’
‘Would his father force him to give it to Vigulfur?’
‘No – it has to be freely given and attested to that fact. One cannot lie to a Gyden – even if she is not visible.’
‘So if we assumed that Vigulfur has the ring already, he has two alternatives – get rid of Egilda – or all the ring bearers so that he is the only choice.’
The two Eaorls agreed. ‘Yes, that would seem reasonable. Of course, there is a third option. The ceremony is to be held nine days after the summer solstice. If we are not there, we cannot be chosen. The roads and forests to Larsa are full of assassins, and we have difficulty getting there without getting killed.’
Conn stopped to think. ‘To my calculation the solstice is around thirty five days away. How long to ride to Larsak?’
‘Ten days. You say you have the four hundred men but even added to our hundred, I think that there would be too many deaths.’
‘I agree. What we need is diversion. Something large – something really large – I have a larger fyrd than that that I can utilize. Derryth is not going to like it.’
‘Cows! It has something to do with those dreadful cows, doesn’t it?’
‘Don’t you like cows?’ One of the ring bearers asked.
‘I like cows. Now. When they are behind me. Not so much when they are in front of me.’
A few days later the cows started to arrive, and from his supplies, he fitted the ring-bearers and their mentors into uniforms of Conn’s fyrd and gave then replacement Meshechian bred horses - greys. They were then spread around the four hundred so as to be almost invisible, and rode in escort of the herd.
Wulfwald rode ahead to Larsak; he was in no danger of being assassinated, and took every spare Larsan wiga, to warn his brother, the Healdend, and his niece. Spies being everywhere, he told him nothing except that a Marquis of Samria and a very large herd of cows were coming his way. He was going to tell Egilda more.
Using the herd of cattle as cover as it headed east towards the highlands and Sytha, they used proceeded towards Larsa. They increased the speed of the herd as well; and unsettled the quiet ambience of their progress. Their numbers were so large as to occasionally spill over into areas where Conn was suspicious that assassins might be lurking; and flushing out any would be assassins from groves and woods. A few died when they unfortunately came into contact with Conn’s troops but most escaped. Ahead of them was a large number of Ancuman.
Conn consulted a map with Kadmah.
Kadmah explained. ‘In two days’ time we turn north while the cattle would normally proceed east, at a village called Eflatu. Between it and us is the protected Larsan Forest. It is only a day’s travel but in between there is nothing but trees and a million ways to get killed. If I was them, this is where I would be waiting.’
In general Larsa was not heavily settled inland; there seemed to be more forested areas than farming and they had few issues preventing the progress of the herds with very little farmland or crops destroyed – the benefit of having four hundred drovers. However, it was only woods rather than what looked like a huge temperate forest. Here, the larger trees hadn’t been cut down.
Conn was resolute. ‘Okay, this time they don’t escape – we can’t afford to let them anywhere near the town – and to do that we need to get between them and the town. I think it’s time for a stampede.’
At daybreak, half the drovers had been sent ahead and Conn’s cavalry were mounted, armed and waiting as they moved the herd to position. The forest was within sight.
It was not an easy task to get several thousand head of cattle to stampede in the right direction. With a little cajoling, they got moving quickly and with the assistance of his collection of fireworks, they got moving very quickly, and in a wide band. They were at speed when they hit the forest and didn’t stop for some miles inside. Following them between the huge trees were the Sagittari; and every assassin flushed out of the forest fell; sometimes unluckily running in front of the raging herd.
It worked as planned – the bullocks were enough of a diversion to ensure that not a single arrow was fired towards the Aebeling heading for Larsa, and after five miles of steady canter, the animals started to tire and the drovers started to reel them in. As planned, a select group of fifty wiga, including the ring-bearers, peeled off and headed north toward Larsa. The horses, panting, and with balls of foam from the sweat on their shoulders, quickly settled into a brisk walk.
‘That was amazing,’ Oswine almost squealed; ‘These horses are amazing – are they not the best … anywhere’.
Big and powerful, they certainly deserved to be called the best around. All greys, they carried a mixture of Arabia, Thoroughbred, Percheron, and Poitevin genes on a foundation of local bloodlines. Even the buckskins that belonged to the Ancuman were not as strong or as resilient.
Kadmah looked behind him as they rode. ‘Did we get them all?’
‘Doesn’t really matter. I think we are between the town and them. We now have the advantage and they now need to get past us. That they will not do.’
It was a three day ride to town. They travelled quickly, and camped light. No one caught up to them. They ran into riders coming from Larsan half a day out of town, on the morning of the fourth day, as they rode through a small village. The band of horsemen – thirty strong and heavily armed – cantered up to them as they rode in. Conn, Derryth and Kadmah rode in the front and the Ring-bearers behind. They weren’t recognizable in Conn’s uniforms.
Kadmah indicated to Conn that it was Vigulfur il Axum, the Marquis of Rasadi.
‘Identify yourselves!’ Vigulfur il Axum yelled as his riders fanned out to block their approach. Most were locals – though two were not – they were Ancuman trying to be inconspicuous.
Kadmah answered. ‘Kadmah il Agar, Eaorl, and these are the four ring-bearers bound for the bedda ceremony.’ He waved behind him. ‘I think you know some of them.’
Vigulfur interrupted. ‘Kadmah? Are you not banished?’ His tone as hostile.
‘I was, but not for this event – as you
should
know. I have the right to be my son’s mentor.’
Vigulfur looked around the ring-bearers – he looked disappointed to find all four of them alive. ‘I see the so called assassins didn’t get any of you then?’
‘No – but we got a lot of them. You will find their graves all the way back to Vatsa. And given the unfortunate incident today; you might find a few of them in the mud.’
‘What unfortunate incident?’
‘The Marquis of Caledonia’s herd of cows stampeded into the forest near Eflatu at the joining of the roads – I fear for any if they were hiding in those forests.’
‘What Marquis of Caledonia? Cattle? I know of no such thing...’
‘That is surprising since the Healdend has been informed by his brother ….’ Kadmah pointed to Conn and Derryth. ‘Please let me introduce Conn, Marquis of Caledonia in Samria, and his counsel Derryth of Halani.’
Flustered, Vigulfur il Axum was not comprehending. ‘Caledonia? Samria? Halani? What are you talking about?’
One of his Ancuman colleagues were a little more aware and one rode forward and whispered in his ear. The reaction was instantaneous; he yelled a command ‘To arms!’ and his troops immediately reached for their bows; setting them onto the group.
Conn laughed. ‘Geirnarr – that wasn’t nice. Though I must say that I am surprised to see you here.’
The Ancuman wiga bowed slightly, ‘Not as surprised as I, Marquis. And although I am grateful that you let me go, twice, I will not be able to repay the favour.’
‘Seriously? You really think that I could be so careless. You should look around you.’
Within moments Sagittari appeared from the houses on both sides and pointed their much larger bows at the troop. Confused the Larsans started waving their bows around.
‘I suggest you all lower your weapons before you all die – or worse still, accidently kill one of us before you die. I will count to five. One … two… three…’ All weapons suddenly were lowered despite no one giving an order. The locals obviously knew that one of the men in front of them was probably going to be their next Healdend – and accidently shooting him was not a good idea.
The third Ancuman, however, decided to take his chance and went to aim his bow instead of releasing it and immediately paid the price. He fell from his horse with ten arrows in his neck and chest, dead.
Kadmah was now confused, Vigulfur was furious, and Geirnarr was suddenly apologetic.
‘That was not my idea. He is not my man.’ He bowed again.
‘Mistakes are always someone else’s idea, are they not?’ Conn addressed the Marquis of Rasadi. ‘Vigulfur, any man who chooses to draw their weapons on the future Healdend of Larsa is not demonstrating good career choices, are they?’
‘It was not them – it is you – you are the Feorrancund and the enemy of Axum!’
‘But I thought you were a Larsan Folctoga – you do not represent Larsa here? I am no enemy of Larsa. In fact, I’m the best friend they have at this moment. I’m sure your Healdend would be interested in your apparent treachery.’
Vigulfur was out of his depth. He changed tack. ‘How is it that your men are riding Axum horses?’
‘So the Aebeling of Axum has not brought you up to date with recent events in Samria. Geirnarr, did you not tell him that the entire Ancuman Fyrd was routed and expelled and all of the horses and equipment taken as booty and ransom? How careless of you.’
Vigulfur looked at Geirnarr with contempt. Geirnarr shrugged.
‘No, he did not.’ He took a deep breath before continuing. His lack of control was perplexing him.
Conn continued. ‘Now, we are on our way to Larsa. Perhaps you should join us. However, given that I don’t trust you, I’m relieving you of your command, and Eaorl Kadmah will take over as Folctoga.’
‘You can’t tell my men what to do! I am the Folctoga of Larsa and the Marquis of Rasadi. You have no authority in Larsa!’
‘Theoretically, yes, you are correct, and you are certainly welcome to try and stop me.’
As he said nothing, wiga went and relieved both his and Geirnarr’s weapons, while Kadmah reformed the Larsans into a troop behind the ring-bearers. They then started their journey towards the town.
Vigulfur looked at the mass of wiga. ‘You cannot take these men into the town. The Healdend will not allow it.’
‘The Eaorl of Vatsa has been to see him and to vouch for my actions. I have decided to assist him in protecting the Wealdend’s daughters from assassination.’
Vigulfur laughed. ‘If there were assassins out there, do you really think that these … fifty men can stop them?’
‘No; but my two hundred can – they should start arriving soon.’
Brys would be leading another two hundred wiga, Logistics and the pack horses – as well as Cynilda and Beowen, into town, and should be less than half a day behind them.
Fear washed over his face. ‘You have two hundred wiga in Larsa? No one told me!’
‘Four actually – but there will be two hundred men providing a security shield around the town. They will stay in the village at the entrance to Larsa to ensure that no one makes it out of the forest and into the town.’