‘The Marquis of Kerch and the Marquis of Rila.’
‘Kerch?’ There was silence for a while before. ‘Okay, we’re coming out. I’m not staying in here any longer.’
Very soon a young man in his twenties popped his head out of the building – followed by three older men. They were covered in mud and pig slop. They looked terrible. But their clothes were of high quality and the older men were not Wiga.
He walked up to Conn, Alana and Derryth and bowed slightly. ‘Marquis, I am Beortan il Kotan, youngest son of Beornyn, Eaorl. I presume my father is dead?’
Conn nodded.
Beortan nodded. ‘I can’t say I’m going to miss the old bastard. And my brothers … are they alive?
Conn shook his head. ‘There are two with the same shield dead on the field near the Village.’
‘Them I will miss. They were not bad as badly led.’ He introduced the older men behind him. ‘These are my kinsmen from Kashi – my mother’s relatives.’ One was his uncle. ‘My Uncle mentioned a rumour that the Marquis of Kerch is now also the Marquis of Patria. None of which makes any sense.’ He stopped to observe Conn’s companions more closely. He addressed Derryth. ‘I presume that you are from Iladion?’
Derryth shook his head. ‘I am not – but he is’ pointing to Wilric.
He nodded. ‘So the Twacuman ride again – with the Marquis of Kerch. I know not what to make of any of it.’ He turned to look at Alana. He bowed again. ‘I presume that you are the Marquis’s daughter?
‘Yes, I am Alana von Taransay.’
He smiled at her. ‘Well, if nothing else comes of today, I will be able to tell my children and my grandchildren, should I be granted the opportunity to have any, that I was once forced into a pigsty by the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen.’
She smiled back before she brought herself under control. She looked at her father. ‘Perhaps I should have killed him after all?’
Ignoring the Pontians, Conn turned and walked back to his horse; they all followed. ‘Not really – very hard to get a ransom from a dead Eaorl.’
‘Ransom?’
They mounted their horses and looked back at the three men still standing confused in the middle of the yard. Conn called out to them. ‘Get your horses and follow us back to the Village Fort. I’ll leave you a guide so no one kills you by accident.
Beortan called back. ‘Would that be the young lady? I’d be happy to follow her anywhere.’
Conn smiled and nodded, looking at Alana. ‘You caught him, you bring him in.’
Alana looked shocked. ‘Papa, I’ve known him five minutes and already he is extremely annoying. Is there no one else?’
‘Sure, you are a Cornet, you can delegate.’
She cast her eyes around the group. ‘There is no one here that takes orders from me.’
‘Sad for you, but you are right. But Wilric will be kind enough to provide you with assistance.’
With that, Balios wheeled around and headed for the fort in a slow canter.
Derryth had to laugh as they rode. ‘You can be a cruel man; you know that, don’t you.’
‘A suitable punishment, I think. She had me worried.’
~oo0oo~
Inside the palisade walls, Logistics had set to work collecting and attending the wounded. Able prisoners were collected together, stripped of whatever armour and weapons they had, and set to work digging graves for the deceased and preparing a pyre for the Eaorl and his family members.
Later, they were provided with a place to sleep and food.
At dawn the next morning, the three Folgere had gathered a shovel and him and took him to the site of the Cirice. All that remained was the stone walls of the cirice itself. The roof was gone, the palisades around the Cirice and all the building within had been burnt to the ground.
They described how, on the morning of the attack, they had been woken by the smell of smoke. The Pontians, led by an Ancuman Folgere, had infiltrated the area during the night and had set fire to the wall that enclosed their refuge. As they raced out outside, arrow hit the roofs of their residences. The abbot, recognizing that severity of the situation had gone inside the Cirice and somehow collected the heart-stone from the idol and had brought it to them. The act had nearly killed her, and after handing it over with instructions to hide it, she had died. The three then, amongst the fire and smoke, buried the haligdom inside the grounds.
Of the twenty Folgere in the Cirice – only three survived. Several younger acolytes had escaped into to village and disappeared while others had chosen to die in the flames. The three that did survive, chose life because they had the memory of the haligdom, and that had to be preserved.
The Ancuman Folgere had been furious that the haligdom was gone but unable to touch a Folgere of a Gyden in any manner suitable for the extraction of information, had gone away empty handed except for a dozen women to be sold as theow.
Conn helped them dig holes in the ground for some hours before they found what they wanted – it had been dark and smoky and some time ago – a leather bag. Inside were some extra haligdom necklaces – at least a dozen of them – and the haligdom that was Inanna’s heart-stone. They gave the heartstone to Conn for safekeeping.
Back at the fort, Conn advised the prisoners that they would not be released until the Cirice had been rebuilt. Sagittari would be observing their every more and any infraction in their given orders would result in an arrow.
The next morning crews were sent to cut trees for lumber, others shaping the lumbers for use, while the rest, dug and started the rebuilding.
Beortan il Kotan, seemingly eager to make amends for the sins of his father, pushed himself and his men to work harder. They seemed to take well to his leadership.
‘Fairly impressive young man, really.’ Derryth observed as they watched him trimming logs for the roof rafters.
‘I have to agree. Learns quickly as well. Not sure what to do with him though – I guess killing him is still an option.’
Alana had just joined them and the last comment was for her. She nodded. ‘I agree. It can’t come quickly enough.’
No sooner had she arrived than Beortan arrived with some excuse of another. After bowing to Conn and Derryth, he addressed Alana again.
‘Have I told you that Alana has always been my favourite name – and it suits you beautifully?’
Alana implored him. ‘Papa, please let me kill him now. I’ll be forever in your debt.’ She nonetheless fought hard to stop the blush that sought to confound her.
Beortan looked her directly. ‘Alana, if it pleases you I will bear my breast so that your dagger is not impeded. I will die gladly at your hand.’
She turned to her father and pleaded. ‘Papa, please, I can’t take any more.’
Hiding his smile, Conn agreed. ‘Beortan. For insulting my daughter with your excessive flattery I punish you to two days of silence – you may not address her in any way. The consequence is a whipping if you fail.’
Nodding, the young Eaorl, agreed with a sad look on his face. ‘Very well, Marquis, I will do as you order. I will take the time to compose poetry so I can recite them when my punishment is complete.’ He bowed and walked away with a sorrowful glance back at Alana.
Alana stomped. ‘He is impossible!’
‘Cute though’, Hallvi added, ‘for a Priecuman… would you not agree?’
She inhaled a deep breath. ‘Yes, he is cute. Too cute. Gyden, now he is taking his shirt off to dig drains. He is driving me crazy!’ She walked off, but not so far away as to not be able to watch him work.
Derryth returned to the problem at hand. ‘So what are you going to do with him?’
‘Patience finds doors where haste finds walls.’
Inanna gave advice that was as clear as ever. Conn told Derryth what she had said. She was nonetheless very happy that Conn was repairing her Cirice.
‘I wish I was always that helpful. Do the ladies know she’s been talking to you since they unearthed the haligdom?’
‘No – I hadn’t the heart to tell them…’
‘Priecuman can be so weak sometimes…’
~oo0oo~
As soon as the roof repairs were completed, all that remained was to return the haligdom to its position – in the outstretched hand of a naked stone idol that had survived the fire and the collapsing roof and was still shining and gleaming.
It was late afternoon when they roof was compete, and finished, and a few hours later, Conn instructed everyone to assemble for the ceremony, in a full moon.
‘Marquis, there are not enough of us to replace the haligdom – we need at least a dozen Folgere. It will kill us.’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘You? But…’
Conn explained that he some experience in the area and would be fine so the now very excited trio made preparations. They changed from the Merian clothing to more suitable Folgere outfits; a chiton styled gown with a plunging neckline and bare shoulders in as sheer a material as was possible – gowns of silk and cotton in green. At the appointed hour, Cynrys, Alyasa and Bylna stood in a half circle facing the idol, and with a dozen others as audience as observers. Conn walked up to the idol with green sapphire in his hand, and shutting his mind to the Gyden, he simply placed the sapphire on the outstretched stone hand. Almost immediately, the sapphire started to glow; until the light was strong enough to fill the entire room. The three Folgere burst into tears and hugged each other while everyone looked on in amazement.
They later invited Conn to attend a private meeting with the three of them in their new dwelling, on what would be Conn’s last night in Hatusa.
~oo0oo~
They called Beortan to a meeting in the morning. He men were getting ready to leave as had been arranged. Those of Kashi had been let go soon after the battle. Conn told him that he had decided to let him go home with his men, and had decided not to ransom him after all.
His response astounded them all.
‘Marquis; that is a silly idea. It will never work.’
Conn looked at Derryth in confusion. ‘I’m not executing you Beortan, I’m letting you go home – all you have to do agree never to attack Sytha again. As Eaorl, surely you can arrange that?’
‘Well, I could – but what happens if I tell the Ancuman everything I know – they could torture me…’
‘What do you know that is so valuable?’
‘Well, I know that you are going to Rila.’
‘I am the Marquis of Rila.’
‘And that you have Twacuman riding with you…’
‘They didn’t know that already.’
‘And that you are ... going to invade Kapisi.’
‘What would make you think that?’
‘Why else would you be going to Rila – with a fyrd? You only have a hundred here but I presume that you have a few hundred more there. The Eaorl of Kapisi was executed by the Healdend …’ He looked around as if to judge how his guesswork was going.
Derryth played along. ‘Sounds like a good plan – perhaps we should consider it…’
‘Also,’ Beortan continued, ‘since you are also the Eaorl of Patria that would be the reason why the Eaorl of Kucha has suddenly developed some backbone?
‘Possibly. Did you know his son has a daughter of the former Eaorl of Kapisi as bedda…’
‘Really… really? No I did not. Now that is interesting.’ He then asked a question which did surprise Conn. ‘So who is going to be the next Healdend of Pontia. It does not seem your style to take the title…and I presume that you seek to take it away from the current holder.’
Derryth laughed out aloud. ‘He is brighter than we thought.’
Beortan smiled wryly. ‘Playing the fool has suited my plan of longevity.’
Conn chose to answer. ‘Eadhart il Kucha.’
‘Really! Eadhart as Healdend’ He looked at Conn curiously. ‘I like it. Did you know that he is my cousin?’
‘No, I did not.’
Beortan nodded. ‘Our mothers are sisters. Both from Kashi and daughters of the Eaorl. Well, anyway – as you can see I know far too much for you to let me go. I think you need to keep me as hostage.’
Conn shook his head. ‘It takes a lot of effort to keep someone guarded all the time – it’s a waste of resources.’
Beortan was prepared for this. ‘If Alana is my guard, I promised never to try and escape.’
‘Oh no, surely not that.’ This was from Alana. ‘Why do I have to babysit him?’
Beortan protested. ‘I was only offering a solution – it would be un-gentleman-like of me to take advantage of your feminine weakness and escape. My honour would prevent me…’
‘I have yet to see you get close to being able to take advantage of my feminine weakness.’
Beortan had thought to train with Alana until she kept defeating him both Bo, bow and sword. His pride finally stopped him from sparring with her until he got better.
‘Any day soon – I am in intensive training.’
Alana implored her father not to make him her responsibility– but he could see that her heart was not really in it. She seemed to be dreading the thought of the young Eaorl leaving her side, and at the time of his forty eight hours punishment of not speaking to her – despite every provocation she gave him by being around him and speaking to him, she was not a yard away from him. He then recited very bad poetry for two hours.