Back From Chaos

by Yvonne Hertzberger

  He could not understand that Marja did not accept his judgment regarding Klast. She simply would not believe Klast could be trusted, and it had become a sore point between them. All Gaelen could do was to assure her. “Klast is the man most skilled and most likely to bring Brensa back alive. Is that not what you wish? He has been loyal to my father and to Bargia for many years. There is no man I trust more.” But he could not hide his frustration.

  Marja remained unconvinced. “He has dead eyes and no feeling. How can such a man be trusted? He will treat Brensa coldly when she most needs kindness.”

  Gaelen merely sighed and let it go. Only time would change her mind.

  They rode mostly in silence, every man alert for further treachery. Marja retreated inside herself and sat stiff in the saddle, answering in single words only when spoken to directly. Gaelen understood her anguished thoughts were on Brensa. The difference of opinion over Klast hung between them like a black cloud. To make matters worse, Gaelen had no time for her and could not give the attention to her worry and grief over Brensa that he wished to. He could not help her. He had other matters that demanded his attention.

  They crossed into Bargia by late morning. A patrolling scout had spotted them and had warned his captain of their imminent arrival. By midday, a full cadre of twenty armed men in official blue and yellow tunics came to escort Gaelen into the city. Danger of attack was all but past.

  Gaelen sent a soldier ahead to arrange an immediate meeting with Janest and Sinnath, as well as Grenth, the commanding officer and council member who had remained in Bargia. It could not wait until after dinner.

  ~34~

  BARGIA

  Gaelen’s spirits lifted at the sight of his home. With the safety of the castle in view, and the added armed escort, he could finally relax enough to enjoy the remainder of the ride.

  Bargia lay at the bottom of a wide valley, its northern border the shallow river the party had just forded. Earlier in spring the water would have been high enough that the horses would have needed to swim. By now, they were able to walk across. The party could stay astride, with their feet lifted high, as the water reached the horses’ underbellies.

  The walled city lay nestled at the bottom of the dale, the castle at its centre, with small crofts and villages dotted randomly around it. The land here was more fertile than the craggier Catania to the north, and it showed in the level of prosperity of its inhabitants. This, coupled with the lack of obvious characteristics that could be used for defence, made it a prime target for invasion. But Bargia had managed to remain independent for several generations by establishing strong alliances with its neighbours and trading for grains and other local products in shorter supply outside its boundaries. It was just such an alliance that Lord Cataniast had refused.

  Gaelen raised his hand in greeting to the crofters along the way. They stopped their work in the fields and bowed as his party passed. He saw them wait until they rode past, arms leaning on scythes and hoes, bags of seed for the more tender crops, such a beans, set down at their feet. The peaceful, pastoral scene calmed Gaelen’s frayed nerves.

  The low mountain behind them stood at the end of a small range of alps. From its peak flowed the ravine that fed the river. The rolling hills at the bottom gradually levelled around the eastern and northern sides of the dale, where Bargia City stood.

  As Gaelen approached the city, the first barrier he had to cross was a low berm, intersected by the four roads leading to the outer gates. The berm had been formed at the time the city had first been built, from the earth dug to create the moat around the castle and from the stones and dirt removed to make the many cellars and canals. Originally, it had been intended as a first line of defence against invasion, but it had not served that purpose for as long as anyone could remember. Now, it offered grazing for the many sheep and cattle that provided meat and dairy products to the city. Only when scouts or spies announced that the city was in danger of attack were any soldiers sent to patrol the perimeter around the berm.

  Gaelen remarked to Marja, “It is good to be home and to see that the planting has not suffered from our absence.”

  As with most cities, Bargia could be entered through four main gates, one facing roughly each of the four directions. Gaelen’s party rode in at the main gate, which stood on the east side.

  “There is so much more space here.” Marja brightened slightly as she took in her new home. It was the first time she had spoken since their argument about Klast, other than to answer direct questions. “The buildings are farther apart. It feels less crowded.”

  Gaelen smiled proudly and nodded.

  Bargia castle itself was unusual in that it had an extra fortification wall, with a wide moat at its feet, outside its exterior walls. To enter one had to pass through one of only two gates. The early rulers had added this extra fortification as a fall back for the people in case of attack, due to the lack of natural defences. It had two deep wells within its walls, one inside the castle itself.

  On the berm and between it and the outer wall, a motley mix of businesses had sprouted and flourished. As they crossed the berm Gaelen noted the respect its inhabitants showed him. They, too, stopped working and touched hands to chests as he passed. He made a point of meeting as many eyes as he could and nodded or waved in acknowledgement. He could see curiosity on the faces of those close enough to spy Marja riding beside him. Well, they would have their questions answered soon enough. He hoped they would take her presence as good news.

  ~35~

  ARRIVAL

  As soon as they entered the gates of Bargia City and approached the castle, Gaelen hurried ahead to his meeting. A guard escorted Marja to the lord’s chambers. As their new lady, the choice of chambers was automatic. Two ladies, who had previously attended Gaelen’s mother, already waited for her with a hot bath scented with rosemary, soap for her hair and scented oil for her skin. Marja learned they had been called into service when news reached the castle that she had no ladies to attend to her. Several gowns and undergarments in a variety of colours and sizes lay arranged on the bed.

  Marja welcomed the bath but wished she had been left to take it alone. With Brensa gone, the stresses from the events of the past eightdays, and the privations of travel, she craved solitude. What she really wanted was her own soft bed back home, with Brensa and Nellis by her side to share songs, needlework and romantic dreams. Those days were gone forever, and Marja resented that.

  She understood how critical it was that she make a good first impression in Bargia, but she could muster only a brusque politeness. She finished with the bath, was helped into one of the makeshift gowns, and had her hair simply dressed. As soon as they were done, she excused her attendants, bidding them to summon her when it was time to go to dinner. She needed rest.

  Her attitude must have been formidable, because the two women left hastily, backing out the door with much curtsying and assurances that they would remain close at hand, in case she needed anything. Apparently, she had not made the desired impression. Well, so be it. They would not be friendly and cheerful either, if they had endured what she had been through. That thought made her even grumpier. She wondered what they would say if she did not attend dinner. Gaelen would certainly expect her to be there. He wanted his people to see her and to accept her. And this gown was ugly and didn’t fit properly. Why had she ever agreed to this? Maybe she could say she did not feel well … not so far from the truth. Marja paced the room as she fretted, trying to decide if she could manage the formal dinner.

  Suddenly, she laughed out loud. She was acting like a spoiled child! She gave herself a shake and took a long draught of the good wine that sat on the round table in the corner. Then she made herself lie down and dozed off quickly.

  ~36~

  COUNCIL

  Gaelen proceeded at once to meet with his council.

  The large, rectangular council chamber, located at the centre of the castle, had no windows, to insure privacy. The two l
ongest stone walls each bore a large tapestry depicting scenes of battle. One of these showed Gaelen’s great-grandfather winning an important victory against Gharn. The rest of the room wore no decoration. In the centre stood a long carved table lined with twenty heavy wooden chairs. The table was covered with a coarse linen cloth woven in the yellow and blue of Bargia. The chairs had cushions of the same cloth. Everything here was ancient, used by generations of lords and their advisors.

  The only visible way in or out was one door at the end. This could be locked from the inside with a heavy, sliding, wooden bolt and would take a battering ram to break down. A small door hidden behind a tapestry afforded a means of escape in the event of attack. This door was known only to the lord and his top three advisors.

  Gaelen reached the council chamber before the others and stood beside the chair at the head of the table for the few moments before they arrived to gather his thoughts. He remembered his father presiding from this chair and wished that he were here to guide him. He ran his hand over his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Standing in his father’s place made the changes of the last days finally real. It did not seem right to take his place. But he had no time to mourn. Janest had arrived.

  “Welcome home, my lord. I am eager to hear your news. Here in Bargia we have little to report.”

  Gaelen made himself sit in the lord’s seat. He poured himself a goblet of wine, which a young maid had just delivered along with bread and meat. The guard posted outside the door had admitted her on Gaelen’s orders. The others members filed in almost as soon as she had left.

  At the last moment, Gaelen sent two guards to Marja’s door and posted two more at each end of the hall outside their chambers. Being home had almost made him forget the danger they were all in. He must not let his attention fail again. He gave the guards orders to let Marja move about freely, but to stay with her at all times. Gaelen also sent for Liethis, the true seer that his father had relied on and trusted. She refused to live within the walls of the city and so would not arrive until tomorrow. By then, Gaelen hoped to have the right questions for her.

  When Grenth, the last member, entered, Gaelen bade him bar the door. He wasted no time. “Friends, we were attacked on our journey home. My lady’s maid has been kidnapped.” Then he brought everyone up to date. When the meeting finally ended, he was grey with exhaustion.

  ~37~

  BANQUET

  When a timid knock on her door woke Marja, she roused immediately and got off the bed. “Enter.”

  The door opened, and one of the waiting women poked her head in. “My lady, if you permit, I will escort you to the great hall for the banquet. Lord Gaelen has sent word that he will be there anon.” She stood in the doorway, twisting her fingers nervously.

  My, thought Marja with chagrin, I must really have made an impression. Aloud, she answered, “Thank you, Parna, I am ready,” and gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. As she followed Parna, the two guards took their positions and kept pace.

  Marja looked around as she entered the great hall. The hall was huge, much larger than its counterpart in Catania. The ceiling was hung with numerous pennants and banners, all in variations of the blue and yellow of Bargia. Tapestries showing scenes of the hunt and heroic deeds covered most of the walls between the four glowing hearths. Candles burned in profusion from chandeliers and sconces. More were set on the tables. The effect was of light and celebration, as if the whole room sparkled in anticipation. She knew that on other days, only the necessary candles and fires would be lit. Tonight it had been arrayed for a victory banquet.

  But for me this is no victory, she thought. Oh, Brensa, where are you? How can I smile and act the lady without you by my side? Do you live? What is that horrid man doing to you? She pushed the thoughts aside, squared her shoulders and followed Parna in.

  Marja saw Gaelen stride in just as she was being seated. He looked haggard and had taken time only to change his tunic. Her brief rest made her more charitable, and she felt a stab of concern for him. He needed to sleep, too. Marja marvelled that he was able to carry on at all. She resolved to put aside her worries for Brensa for now and do her best to make a better impression, for Gaelen’s sake.

  Marja sat on Gaelen’s right at the head table, which stood on a low dais at one end of the great hall. The floor of the hall was filled with simple trestle tables and benches. Around these sat the heads of all the important families, their wives and their children past the age of twelve.

  Beside them at the head table sat Sinnath, his wife, Marlis; Janest, his wife, Wendan; Grenth, Gaelen’s chief of the military, and his wife, Naila. Marja greeted each with a nod as Gaelen introduced them to her. The chair that Argost usually occupied remained empty.

  Marja noticed that protocol here was similar to that in Catania. When Gaelen entered, everyone stood and waited until he was seated to resume their seats. First, wine was brought out and poured, then huge platters of meats; venison, wild boar, roast goose and stewed hare. Then came bowls of boiled onions and carrots, pitchers of gravies, fresh bread and cheeses. Fresh greens in oil, wine vinegar and herbs added a seasonal treat available only in early summer. Already on the tables sat salt cellars, butter and bowls of preserves sweetened with honey.

  Marja’s anxiety rose when she watched Gaelen rise to address his guests as the last platters were placed on the tables. She hoped to Earth his speech would be well received. Not only was this his first official banquet and his first speech as lord, but she knew he would officially introduce her. How effectively he managed would determine how easily the people accepted her. She listened intently as he held up his hand for silence.

  “My people, we come together tonight both to celebrate our victory over Catania, and to mourn our losses … my father, Lord Bargest, and my brother, Lionn, as well as those brave soldiers who gave their lives so that we might be here today. I am sure my trusted friends and advisors, Sinnath and Janest here, have told you how hard won that victory came.”

  Marja warmed to his voice. It came through strong and confident. He did not hide his sadness or regret over their losses, but he showed his pride in their victory. She smiled at him as he paused a moment, then looked around the room, meeting as many eyes as possible before continuing. Her admiration of his skill grew as she heard him speak.

  “I did not expect occupy this chair. My lord father was a great man, a good ruler and a wonderful teacher to my brother and myself. We all keenly feel his loss. But I pledge to you that I am ready to rule. We will recover from our losses and prosper. We will work together to hold Catania and rule there with the same strong and able governance you may expect from me here in Bargia.”

  When Gaelen raised his goblet high and in a voice that carried to the far corners of the hall cheered, “To Bargia!” Marja felt as taken up in the fervour as the rest of the citizens. She raised her goblet and joined in the toast, as the room erupted in cheers. He is born to lead, she thought, watching how he played the crowd with another well-placed pause before he raised his wine again with, “To Catania, may we prosper together,” which brought another round of cheers.

  Gaelen held up his hands for silence and indicated to Marja that she should stand beside him. She rose, holding his gaze with a proud smile, and let him take her hand in both of his.

  “Good people,” Gaelen began.

  Marja shivered a moment as she realized that this was what she had waited for, what she had feared.

  “I have here the greatest prize of all. Please welcome your new lady, my wife and consort, Lady Marja. She has willingly agreed to do what she can to strengthen our union with Catania.”

  The room remained silent for a moment, and Marja knew a second of panic. Then she heard Janest begin to cheer, “To the Lady Marja!”

  At this, first Sinnath, then the others at the head table, joined in. To Marja’s relief the room once again filled with cheers. She saw Gaelen give Janest and Sinnath grateful nods before turning back to his
guests. Someone on the floor started to thump his knife on the table chanting, “Kiss … kiss … kiss.” Soon the entire hall joined him.

  Gaelen’s face split into a grin, and first giving Marja an apologetic shrug, he put his arms around her and kissed her soundly. The room erupted even more loudly that before. In spite of her embarrassment, Marja knew that this was just what Gaelen needed. She sent a silent thank you to the man who had started the chant.

  She kept her wits about her. Not missing a beat, with a broad smile of her own, she addressed the floor. “Good people of Bargia, do you agree that one good kiss deserves another?” Without waiting for a reply, she took Gaelen’s face between her hands and firmly returned his kiss.

  After his initial surprise, he beamed proudly at her amid raucous yells, whistles and much pounding of knives on tables and thundering of boots on the stone floor. Marja had passed another test.

  ~38~

  LIETHIS

  Liethis shunned court whenever possible. She found it draining to block the sendings that assaulted her mind among so many people. She preferred to live quietly in a small cabin, sparsely but cosily furnished, a half-day’s ride from the city. The sod roof kept out the elements. Her herb and vegetable garden supplied her with fresh produce. Those who visited to request her services paid her with the other items she needed: meat, eggs, flour and enough coin to purchase clothing and other necessities. This allowed her to avoid going into the city more than a few times per year. Those times almost always came at the behest of the Lord or one of his advisors.

  She knew what had transpired in recent times. She had sensed the deaths of Lord Bargest and Lionn and Gaelen’s ascent to lordship. The terror and turmoil of the party’s return trip had filled her with unease. She knew, too, that treachery had been involved, although she had no name to put to it. No one needed to tell her these things. Earth’s sendings pressed so insistently she could not ignore them.