The Forgotten War

by Howard Sargent

  Unlike the corridor, the great hall had large, very grand windows, taking up as it did the entire front section of the manor house. It took her a second or two to adjust to the sudden brightness. When her eyes could see again she hesitated, ever so slightly. The east and west walls – it was through the door of the latter that she had just entered – were covered in beautifully coloured tapestries depicting the various events with which the region was associated; the latest one (you could tell it was so from the fact that many of the others were slightly faded) depicted the naval Battle of Galpa in which the Kudreyan pirates had been finally defeated. Aside from the tapestries. the room otherwise held only several beautifully carved long wooden tables that admittedly had seen better days and the chairs to seat those dining from them. Only one of these tables, the central one, was now occupied. There were maybe just under twenty people, all men, all well dressed, sitting at it. And all of them were now looking at her.

  ‘Good day, gentlemen.’ Gods, her voice sounded so small. ‘I apologise for the lateness of my arrival; I was just taking morning prayers with Father Sidden. I hope and trust I have not missed too much of importance. I have promised my husband after all that I will be most attentive to matters here. A wife who does not interest herself in the affairs of her husband is no wife at all, as I am sure you will all agree.’

  Wulfthram was sitting at the head of the table and was fixing her with a look she found difficult to describe. It wasn’t anger, though; she felt relief at that at any rate. Surprise? Yes, possibly surprise.

  Einar was sitting close to her husband, facing towards her. ‘Good to see you, my Lady. I was wondering when you would arrive. The Lady Sofie, Camille bless her and keep her at her side, always sat next to Wulfthram at these meetings and I see he has kept the same chair vacant for you. Isn’t that right, Wulfthram?’

  Wulfthram said nothing but pulled the chair back for her to sit on. It was of black wood, heavy and noisy, as he pulled it over the stone floor, but it was padded and comfortable. He beckoned to her in the most understated way possible to come and take her seat.

  ‘I believe all of you here have met my new wife, the Lady Ceriana, however briefly. I very much doubt that she can remember all of your names so please, when you speak, introduce yourselves.’

  One of the barons, a younger man with sandy hair, broke in immediately.

  ‘I would just like to say, my Lady, that the meeting has only just formally opened and you have missed nothing of great import. I am Baron Jon Skellar of Thakholm, an island south of here. We only had the very briefest of meetings last week, so allow me to reiterate the welcome I gave you then and to express my hope that you are gradually settling in here.’

  ‘Thank you, Baron Skellar, I can assure you that everyone here has been the very embodiment of courtesy itself. It is I, I fear, who needs to show that I am worthy of such courtesy. I hope the ensuing months will go to show that I am, for it will not be for the lack of endeavour on my part. May I also ask you, Baron Skellar, how the construction of the new jetty on Thakholm is proceeding? I believe it is being enlarged to accommodate the mightiest ships in the Tanaren navy in order to provide a capable deterrent to any future pirate incursion.’

  He looked at her with something only a little short of wonder. ‘It has just finished, my Lady, a grand affair three times larger than the original. May I formally extend an invitation to visit us and see it, as soon as your schedule allows.’

  ‘Thank you, Baron Skellar. I of course would be delighted, if my husband permits it.’

  ‘I permit it,’ said Wulfthram with a gleam in his eye. ‘Now let us begin. Each of you in turn give your reports from the area you represent...’

  The meeting continued as each baron spoke in turn, giving Wulfthram their dispatches. Ceriana was glad she had read up on the issues that concerned these people primarily. There was a genuine fear of famine here as the land was so poor. Her husband had gone some way to mitigating this by setting up a series of grain silos in which the excess in good years could be stored and set against any years in which the crop failed. Also, there was the threat of brigandry; the Kudreyan pirates might be no more, but many of them, fleeing Galpa, had landed in the remoter areas of the north, from where they continued to harry the local people. As to the barons here present, there appeared to be some form of hierarchy, though all of them deferred to her husband. Principal among them appeared to be Baron Farnerun of Slemsholm, a long coastal area in which fishing was important. It held many ancient Elven ruins and had a reputation of being haunted. Then there was Baron Rosk of Taksgat, an island east of Osperitsan, and Baron Fyrdag of Thetta, a large area in the south. The other Osperitsan barons, Einar and Thudig, also seemed important as well as Baron Tragsmann of Vihaga, the port from which she first took ship to her new home. It was Fyrdag who was now speaking.

  ‘In the southern part of my lands and in that of my neighbours it is virtual bandit country. People are living in fear and I do not have enough men to be everywhere at once. The latest way these bastards are making money is through kidnapping. They are taking young girls aged from about thirteen years upwards from their parents. We believe that they are being sold on to brothels in Tanaren and other southern cities. They hide out in caves in the broken hills and move around frequently so they are almost impossible to catch. Short of evacuating whole villages and abandoning farmlands I am not sure what to do.’

  ‘What if we call the muster? ‘Wulfthram said. He turned to his wife. ‘A muster is called in emergencies like this one. Every one of the northern barons is required to supply one man in every ten of their men-at-arms throughout the spring, summer and autumn.’ Then he turned back to Fyrdag. ‘Perhaps a show of strength might be what is required.’

  Fyrdag looked doubtful. ‘A muster would help in the short term, I feel, but you know a council majority is required to organise one. And I am not sure if everyone here would give my problems full priority like you do.’

  Wulfthram scanned the faces of those present. ‘Well, you heard the man. Does anyone here object?’

  A couple of people shifted uneasily in their seats and then Baron Rosk, a tall spare man whose skin was drawn so tightly around his face that he seemed to be little more than a talking skull, broke the silence .

  ‘The problem we have, as you know, is that we are not just here representing ourselves. As well as Taksgat, I am here for three other barons who hold smaller islands near to my own. And I know for a fact that trying to persuade them to part with ten in a hundred men to go traipsing round some barren wilderness, leagues from their home, will be nigh on impossible. If the council agrees to do it, I can force them to comply, but in doing that it would only stoke up problems for the future. The last thing I want is some petty rebellion. If I put it down with force, then I would be ruling over an unruly populace and sleeping with a knife under my bed. If I couldn’t put it down, then you would be speaking to someone else this time next year. Couldn’t these threatened villages bolster their fortifications in some way?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Fyrdag, ‘but in most cases we have done that already. These people are farmers or traders and cannot spend their lives cooped up like chickens. The bandits get them when they are outdoors and vulnerable.’

  Wulfthram looked at them, his forefingers resting on his chin. ‘Nevertheless, I feel something needs to be done. If we do nothing, we will be seen as weak, which will only encourage and embolden these brigands. The problem we have is that between us we represent well over fifty other barons. Keeping them all happy is a task not even a god could manage. ‘He looked around the table. ‘Give me an idea, everyone; if I call a muster, who would agree with me.’

  Some hands went up, others stayed down – the room looked evenly divided. Wulfthram could barely conceal the disappointment in his face. He looked at Fyrdag. ‘I think it’s a slight majority, but really I need about two-thirds with me to carry this.’ He spoke to the room in general. ‘What about concessions? Say I could negoti
ate a small reduction in taxes for the Grand Duke for a year. Would that change your vote?’

  Baron Thudig, Wulfthram’s southern neighbour, a man well into his fifties who retained a shock of dark hair which seemed far too youthful for his mottled red face, spoke. ‘Do you really think you could arrange this? This Grand Duke does not seem the type to reduce taxes for nothing. He has already made one highly aggressive move against us. I would vote for this muster only if you could guarantee some sort of reduction.’

  Ceriana barely stopped herself from reddening when she realised that the ‘highly aggressive move’ he was referring to was the planned visit of her father with his troops the following year. She was beginning to see the juggling act her new husband must have to perform regularly just to keep these men in check.

  ‘My new father-in-law visits here next year and will attend the spring council. It would be interesting to see if I could squeeze anything out of the Tanaren nobles and get them to help us for a change. Fyrdag, would you be happy to see the vote deferred until then?’

  Fyrdag nodded. ‘I am content.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Wulfthram. ‘The matter is settled for the time being. Now for...’

  Ceriana interrupted him. ‘This muster of which you speak, would it be predominantly foot soldiers?’

  ‘Almost entirely,’ said Wulfthram. ‘Only I and Einar and a couple of the other barons retain any standing cavalry up here.’

  ‘But to chase down these bandits, cavalry would be useful, no. Even if the terrain is poor they would still travel faster than men on foot, yes?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Wulfthram. ‘But there is very little cavalry available.’

  ‘My brother is a knight of the Silver Guard,’ she said with no little triumph.

  ‘I am sure both Father and myself could persuade him to release some men to aid you. Even a small force of, say, thirty men would help, wouldn’t it?’

  Silence. Some people looked at their feet; others picked their nails. Einar spoke to her gently. ‘There would be a lot of resentment against the fine knights of Tanaren riding in to solve our little problems. It would appear that we are incapable of resolving issues on our own, and may encourage further and closer interference from the capital on other matters. It is one of those times when what sounds like a fantastic idea in theory becomes a much more troublesome one in practice. In itself, though, it is a very good idea and I am sure everyone here is grateful that you are trying to help.’

  ‘Forgive me,’ she said, ‘I am still getting used to the concept of you all seeing yourselves as a country apart. I was not aware that outside interference from the capital would be seen as a mark of hostility.’

  Baron Thudig looked at her with pale watery eyes. ‘May I speak frankly, my dear?’

  Ceriana met his stare. ‘Of course, Baron.’

  ‘Very well. I know it is not your fault but there are a great many barons who resent the way your marriage has been imposed on Baron Wulfthram. It smacks of the high-handed arrogance that we have come to expect from Tanaren and, though I have not heard it directly myself, there has even been talk of armed rebellion, not against the Grand Duke, but against your husband. It would be no idle threat either; over here barons are deposed regularly if they are seen to be failing. There are no shortages of ambitious men here in the north.’

  ‘Enough Thudig!’ Wulfthram said harshly. ‘If you have heard rumours of treachery, then see me afterwards and tell me what you know. What you do not do is insult my wife to my face. If you...’

  Ceriana took his arm. ‘It is all right, my husband. I invited the Baron to speak frankly and he did just that. I am sorry that I have put you in such a difficult position. But please be aware, Baron Thudig, that the imposition applies to both of us.’

  Wulfthram looked at her and for the first time she saw sympathy in his eyes. ‘You have not, and you have nothing to reproach yourself for. Let us take some lunch and we will continue the Council in an hour or so.’

  He signalled to one of the servants and shortly afterwards some food was brought out and set down on the table. People did not remain at their seats; rather they got up and mingled with each other in small groups, a routine that obviously happened each time a council was held. For the first time since she walked into the room Ceriana felt awkward. Wulfthram and Einar were speaking to Thudig, and so she felt no inclination to join them. She was about to excuse herself and leave the room until lunch was over when Baron Skellar came over to her.

  ‘My Lady, I think you have surprised and delighted a lot of people here today, including myself. My invitation to visit us at Thakholm is a genuine one; it might be nice for you to tour a few of the outlying areas, just to get a feel of the country you have ended up in.’

  ‘Thank you, Baron, but I don’t feel my presence has been as universally welcomed as you seem to think.’

  ‘Ah, ignore Thudig, if bullshit was a currency he would be living in the lilac palace in Koze and sleeping on a bed of solid gold. If he was to smile, his face would shatter. Nobody expected you to join us and be so charming – dare I say it, least of all your husband.’

  She laughed softly. ‘I gave him no warning that is true, but then I didn’t really know I was going to attend either. I am sure he will have something to say afterwards.’

  As she spoke Wulfthram noticed the two of them together and came over to join them.

  ‘Well, Jon, when do you want my young bride to come and visit you?’

  ‘At your convenience, of course, but the sooner the better as far as I am concerned. A couple of the great warships in the Tanaren navy should be arriving in a couple of weeks; perhaps a formal welcome from the Chief Baron of the North might be appropriate.’

  ‘A good idea indeed, and one I have already looked into. Unfortunately I am otherwise engaged at the time. However, I believe the Chief Baroness is available. What say you, Ceriana? It could be your first official visit.’

  ‘Of course, I would be honoured.’ She looked him directly in the eye but as usual could read nothing. ‘When should I leave?’

  ‘It’s a two-day trip by land and sea, so perhaps you could leave in about ten days’ time. You could arrive a day or two before the ships arrive and Jon could show you around the island.’

  ‘That won’t take too long,’ Baron Skellar said, laughing. ‘But I am content. I shall await your arrival with both trepidation and excitement. You will have the place of honour at the head of the table.’ With that he bowed and took his leave.

  ‘Are you angry with me?’ she blurted it out, seeing as the two of them were alone together for once.

  ‘Why should I be? I did consider asking you to come but thought it might be a bit early for you, seeing as you keep to your rooms most of the time. Mind you, it was obviously time well spent. Everyone here seems impressed by your attempt to get a grip on the problems we have here.’

  ‘Thank you; I am resented by some, though.’

  ‘As am I! And ignore Thudig; we are all used to him here, as you will be soon enough. Baron Skellar seems enchanted anyway. He is a single man, so be on your guard when you see him. He already has a reputation with one or two of the other baronesses.’

  ‘Oh, you surely don’t think ... not with me?’

  ‘I do think,’ he said with a smile, ‘I know him of old. Don’t worry, though; I have every faith in you. All you have to do is follow him around and approve of everything. I am sure you had to do that plenty of times back at Edgecliff.’

  ‘You have never spoken a truer word. I have a great tolerance of the mundane and dreary, all of it stemming from attending my father’s inspection of the soldiers every week as a child.’

  ‘I bet you never knew how useful that would be as you got older. Spend just under a week with him – that is the average length of an official visit – then hurry back home. You will have my flagship at your disposal and I shall ride with you to the port and see you off.’

  ‘Thank you, my Lord; I would like that.’
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br />   The meeting resumed shortly afterwards. Baron Farnerun of Slemsholm was speaking.

  ‘If I may, I will continue with the problem of brigandry, for it does seem endemic in our lands of late. We were obviously all relieved when the Kudreyan pirates were defeated, giving us some respite from the constant raids on our shores, on my shore in particular. But it would be wrong to say such attacks have stopped completely. They still have some ships and are still making surprise attacks by sea. I don’t know how but there seems to be a rump of these people still operating on our coast. Where they base themselves I know not, but there have been two attacks on my lands in the past week. The fact that they were unexpected made it worse as they raided a couple of villages with impunity before making off with their spoils, gold from the churches and the homes of the magistrates. I was hoping that Baron Skellar could ask these ships from Tanaren to do a sweep of my coastline; maybe they could at least find out where they are based, if nothing else.’

  ‘I do not control them directly,’ Skellar replied, ‘but I shall certainly ask them when they arrive.’

  ‘I will speak to their commander if need be,’ said Wulfthram. ‘And again I shall mention it to Duke Hartfield when I see him. Perhaps some sort of regular patrol can be organised; I can’t see there being any objection to that.’

  The meeting continued and ploughed into what was obviously familiar territory for most of those present – local taxes and grain supply and allocation. As they delved into its intricate minutiae and baron horse-traded with baron, Ceriana sensed herself drifting. The mental effort required to force her into the meeting was tiring her out. She was thinking longingly of her soft bed and a jug of warmed almond milk when she heard her husband summing up. Evidently things were drawing to a close.

  ‘So, most of what I have to do involves speaking to my father-in-law when he arrives. Is there anything else anyone wishes to say before we finish up here?’