‘So, one gold Ryal is the same as six hundred copper Ryals?’
‘Correct; oh, when we speak of Ryals, we always mean the bronze variety. As for value, a skilled wiga such as you could earn ten thousand Ryals for a year as a Folctoga, while three thousand Ryals will buy you a warhorse – though I could sell any one of your stallions for five times that amount. Should you wish to become a Thane…’
‘A Thane?’
‘One step down from an Eaorl – he is master of a domain of more than twenty thousand acres and over five hundred vassals. If you have four hundred thousand Ryals, you might find a nice domain, and another two hundred thousand Ryals will get you the daughter of an Eaorl as your first bedda – the daughter of a Thane much less of course. An Eaorl’s daughter would be something you might need to create your place in Priecuman society.’
‘Tell me what you think this is worth.’ Conn fished out a single coin from his pouch. Hand cast and pressed, it was a replica of a gold medieval Dinar, and contained eight grams of almost pure gold.
Abrekan was silent as he inspected the coin; he then retrieved a small weighing scale from his bag, and he used it to compare it with his own gold coin. Two were almost identical in weight. He handed it back to Conn.
‘That is a coin of excellent quality. I see no reason why you would not get twelve hundred Ryals for it. Can I ask how many you have?’
‘Over five thousand.’ Which was a little off the truth; he had in fact over six thousand in coins or gold bars. It was the equivalent of more than seven million Ryals – certainly enough to get him by.
Conn could see Abrekan inhale sharply. ‘That is an enormous sum – what do you intend to do with it?’
‘I do not know yet – I’m sure that opportunities will present themselves.’
Conn was fascinated with the monetary term – the Ryal – another medieval but rarely used English monetary term. He asked Abrekan if he knew where the name came from.
He shook his head. ‘It has always been so – since the Casere arrived in Meshech, we have had the same rate and name for our coins.’
By the end of winter, Conn was fully established into a comfortable routine within the daily activities of Halani. So despite feeling strangely content, he couldn’t help the general feeling of anticipation and anxiety that began to creep into his subconscious. He felt he was here for a reason; and though he hadn’t worked out what it was yet, he didn’t think it was this – that was far too simple.
He doubted that it was to be freezing to death either, but he sat shivering on his horse on the top of a mountain with Elva and Derryth. It was just before dawn and they had been there since first light waiting for the sun to rise. Derryth had insisted they come; he had something to show Conn. Conn’s stallion snorted; the steam rising from his nostrils. Conn shivered again in sympathy. Despite it being spring, the wind was still very cold.
‘Even my horse thinks it is too cold to be out here. What are we waiting for again?’
‘The reborn sun; there are several places in Halani that have been marked as arrival points for the new season. This is one of them and as it is the most inaccessible, that is the reason why we have it to ourselves. The sun should shine through the gap in the mountains there’, he pointed, ‘and a ray of light should touch the wall behind us. It only happens once a year – at the beginning of the new cycle – and it tells us what the year will bring.’ The wall behind them was solid stone, and a huge pattern had been carved into the surface. The bull’s eye was obviously the spot to hit for new cycle.
Conn had already participated in their ceremony to celebrate the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. According to Conn’s understanding of the Meshechian calendar, today would be the equinox.
All of Meshech divided their year into two halves of six months, with each month containing three weeks of ten days. The last month of each half had extra days until the solstice. It seemed a reasonable system. Conn recalled that the Egyptians had something similar. These extra days were festival days – and they had spent the last three days celebrating the end of the ‘death’ cycle, as ‘life’ would start soon – probably today. Their year started with the spring equinox.
Abrekan told him it was introduced a thousand years ago by the Casere. It increasingly seemed to Conn that the Casere was a very insightful person.
They waited and within moments the shine from the sun started creeping over the mountains. They glued their eyes to the gap in the mountains and like a bolt of lightning a single beam raced past them and hit the slab of rock behind them. It hit the bull’s eye.
‘There.’ Derryth was proud. ‘It is today. Another ‘life’ begins and...’
Derryth stopped suddenly, and they all silently watched the beam light up the wall and then just as suddenly flicker out as the sun moved on. However, instead of a golden beam it was almost red.
‘Well, that is interesting – but then I guess I already knew that. The red indicates a new beginning – not just a new cycle.’
‘You seem to know a lot about it’ Conn noted.
Elva nodded. ‘Did you not know that Derryth’s father is the Wothbora; but his vision didn’t steer him that way – instead he became a wiga.’
‘All of my ancestors have been Wothbora,’ Derryth added, ‘and I am only the second not to follow the path of my father. My father was not disappointed – his apprentice is my younger brother. It is not often that we have more than one child – but my father’s path chose him to have two sons.’
‘But you still have the Wothbora’s skills?’ It was a strange question but it had suddenly occurred to Conn as he watched the ray of light traverse the wall of the cave.
Derryth smiled wryly. ‘I am not initiated, so although I think I can hear the Gyden speak – just like my father – they do not speak directly to me – and I have no right to hear their voice.’ Derryth moved on. ‘Okay; time for breakfast. I’d say first one down the mountain gets a double serve – but I’m sick of losing. That horse of yours is an unfair advantage.’
With that he wielded his pony and gently led the group down to the village; where Conn later returned to work with his increasingly large herd of horses. He had decided to give the pinto mare to Caewyn, and she was so delighted that, despite her not being a true Elfina, she insisted on giving Conn fifty mares in return. The pinto had a foal – a colt – and Caewyn was determined to breed more Elfina. In Halani society, every gift had to be reciprocated; and Caewyn deemed that the pair was worth fifty of her horses. Consequently, he had a horse breeding program underway with his three stallions – his sixty as well as another fifty that Caewyn wanted bred to his Anglo-Arab stallion. She had big plans for a small girl; and whatever she wanted, everyone did for her.
Derryth found him in with his horses.
‘Brina wants to see you.’
‘Now? That’s unusual – it’s mid-morning. Is something the matter?’
‘Not that I know. She asked to see Abrekan as well.’
They collected Abrekan and returned to Brina’s longhouse. Inside the now smoke free room because of the new fireplaces that Conn had painstakingly constructed – it needed three – Brina was waiting with her Elders, as well as Caewyn and Elva. She directed them to sit down and offered them a drink.
‘Thank you for coming, Conn il Taransay.’ Brina started rather informally which also surprised Conn. ‘Over these weeks, we have spoken often about the history of our people.’
Conn nodded; it had been a regular discussion.
‘Well, there are some things that we have not explained as well as we could.’
That didn’t surprise Conn. He could tell that information was missing. What he knew already was that there were three tribes of man – the Ancuman, the Priecuman and the Twacuman, and at some time in the past they lived on different lands – a long way from here, but that volcanoes, earthquakes and tsunami – as well as rising ocean levels – had caused them to flee those lands in search of new homes. The
re had been four such events – which they called the Great Darkening. The last one was only four hundred years ago. Those events often brought them into conflict with each other as they found themselves on the same lands. Warfare was more common between the Priecuman and the Ancuman; the Ancuman had a society that depended on owning slaves, and whilst the Twacuman were ambivalent at being theow, the Priecuman had a particular aversion – hence the ongoing conflicts. Conn knew that the Twacuman did not engage in warfare except when absolutely necessary – surrendering was sometimes the best way to protect their people.
Brina continued. ‘There is a part of the history of Meshech that we need to explain in more detail. You know of the first Casere?’
‘Osstan, yes; I have been told he came here over six hundred years ago, with several thousand, and it his was his descendant Sherric who finally drove the Ancuman from Meshech.’
She nodded. ‘Indeed. But long before the Priecuman arrived, Meshech was home to just the Twacuman, but then the Ancuman arrived, enslaved us and took our homes. We didn’t tell you that it some of our ancestors – Kolmarr – who went in search of the Priecuman and brought them here.’
‘No, you didn’t. Where did he find them?’
‘That we do not know – that knowledge was lost in the wars that followed, and the Great Darkness that followed the wars. Our history is oral; passed down from Wothbora to Wothbora. Sometimes they didn’t live long enough to pass down everything.’
‘Do you know why he went? It seems a strange thing for one of the clan to do – to endanger everyone else. Surely Kolmarr was missed?’
‘No – Kolmarr was a fisherman, and he made it seem that his boat was lost in a storm. He was not missed – instead he was able to cross the ocean in search of the Priecuman. The success of his story is told to all our children.’
‘How did he find them? Abrekan tells me that there are no visitors from other lands here since the Ancuman were expelled.’
‘It is said that Kolmarr found a holtwudu, and inside he found the knowledge to find the Priecuman. It is also said that he met a Gyden who told him what to ask the feldelfen. If you don’t have the right questions, you will never find the right answers.’
Conn nodded – he needed a Gyden to help him ask the right questions sometimes. It made a little more sense to him now. ‘I don’t understand why this is so important now?’
‘We also didn’t tell you that when the Priecuman arrived, they brought one of our kin with them.’ She paused. ‘Her name was Finnaelfa, and she was Osstan’s Scylcen. After he died, however, she became bedda to Kolmarr, then Aebeling of Halani, and they had a daughter who later became Scylcen to Sherric. But it is their daughter who is most of interest to us.’
‘Their daughter?’
‘Yes; her name was Ingeulfur, and she was half Twacuman and half Priecuman.’
‘Oh.’ Conn paused. ‘But I thought that Twacuman do not get pregnant to Ancuman or Priecuman?’ In all their ‘fornications’, Elva had been unconcerned about getting pregnant due to that reality.
‘Indeed, that is true. Ingeulfur was the only Twacuman we have ever heard of that became pregnant to a Priecuman.’ She paused. ‘Until now.’
‘Elva is pregnant?’ Conn blurted out the obvious.
Conn was genuinely surprised. He looked at Elva, and she smiled back. He could only imagine that it was something new – she didn’t mention it just a few hours ago – or last night when they were together. He looked back at Brina.
‘I don’t know what to say. Nor do I have an explanation.’ Certainly not one he could share.
Brina stood and moved around the room, collecting a mug of mead. ‘Neither do we... and the Gyden have been strangely very silent on this subject as well. As you know, each Twacuman has a path that is revealed to them by the Wothbora – whether it is wiga or Craeftiga, as soon as the child is known to us. Our Wothbora knew of this child today, but he cannot see its path.’
‘And that is a bad thing?’
Brina shrugged. ‘We do not know – but it is unusual – but then his father is not known to the Gyden, so we presume that it is because of the connection to you. It is certainly something that is unusual; at a time when there is much that is unusual. Things are not as they should be and we don’t know why. The Priecuman nations have had many years recently when crops have failed and people have died from disease or famine. There is also war amongst them again – nothing like that has happened for three hundred years. Unusual events by themselves do not indicate much; but lots of unusual events all at the same time mean something. The most unusual is of course you - the first Priecuman in hundreds of years that understands the language of the Twacuman – as well as being able to get a Twacuman pregnant.’
She paused and sipped her drink. ‘Ingeulfur died with her father fighting the Ancuman – it was the last and final battle, and soon after the Ancuman left Meshech. She was bedda to Torhallur il Halani – an ancient uncle to Derryth, and they had a son Vigmundur. Vigmundur survived the war and later took half of our people to live with him in Piada; to be near the Casere of Meshech. As you know, we lost contact with our kin there over a hundred years ago.’
Conn was aware that since the establishment of Piada, it was usual for the two nations to visit each other regularly, but after the closing of the borders of Halani, it had become harder. However, an annual visit was common, until a hundred years ago when anyone who had left for Piada did not return and none from Piada ever arrived; so people stopped going. No-one understood why.
She paused again to let the knowledge settle. ‘We know that all this has meaning – but we do not know what that is yet. All that being said, it is time for you to leave Halani.’
Conn was surprised at the suddenness of the remark but she continued, ‘It is not because you are not welcome here but because this is not where you are needed.’
Conn was still confused. ‘I don’t understand.’
She smiled. ‘Neither do we; but Caewyn has seen it. She believes you are needed there.’
‘There?’
‘In the Priecuman lands’
‘Oh.’ Conn was about to ask the obvious question when she waved him down.
‘I know what you will ask, because I asked it. None of us have the answer to that question. I’m sure you will discover your purpose as you go. We do know that it is Abrekan’s path is to lead you out of the valley.’
‘As you will, Aebeling,’ Abrekan responded immediately. He seemed as surprised as Conn to the change of events.
Conn was about ask another question when Caewyn stood and came to him. She hugged him. ‘Do not worry – you will know what to do.’ She reached for a chain that hang around her neck, hidden under her tunic, took it off, and placed the chain and its medallion over his head. ‘This is for you. If you ever need assistance from any Twacuman, show this to them, and they will do what they can. It says that you are the Feorhhyrde, and that means that you are our friend, and we are yours’. Then she kissed him on the cheek, stood and walked out. They all watched her leave in silence.
As he watched, Conn fiddled with the medallion and suddenly felt the silence grow in the room. He looked up to see the elders looking towards him in shock; but their eyes were on the medallion.
Brina spoke but no sound was heard, and she cleared her throat. Still croaky, she said ‘That is a special gift she has given you. Sherric was the last to wear that medallion, and he was wearing it when he died. However, it was not on Sherric’s neck when they recovered his body, and it cannot be removed without permission. No one knows what happened to it and it was considered lost forever – I can’t even guess how or where she found it.’ She looked around at the other elders and they shook their heads. ‘She is a special child; it seems that she knows more than what she tells us – or more than she yet understands. I presume she knows what she is doing. What is done cannot be undone; and what is given, cannot be taken back.’ She paused, and then added. ‘It is probably apt that the last perso
n to be called Feorhhyrde was also the last person to understand the language of the Twacuman; but I don’t know that Caewyn knows that. All that is missing is the Torc.’
There was silent contemplation until Conn spoke. ‘Torc?’
‘The Torc of the Casere – created for the first Casere, and lost with the last – nearly three hundred years ago.’
‘Sherric seemed to lose a lot of things…’
‘No – it was Goibniu. He was the last Casere. He was a descendant of Sherric, and ancestor of the Healdend in Silekia. It too has disappeared.’
She seemed unwilling to provide more information so Conn let it lie. Finally, he asked. ‘When do we leave?’
‘Soon,’ Brina answered, ‘you should leave as soon as you are able, when a path through the mountain is clear of snow, but before the snow melts and the lake is unable to be crossed. Where would you go, Abrekan?’
‘I will go back to Lykia; the Earldom of Tabae is on the border, and Eaorl Octa is a good man. I think I can rely on him to be welcoming.’
Brina nodded in agreement. ‘It is good to go where there is a welcome.’ She looked at Conn then back at Abrekan. ‘There might be places where the welcome is not so warm.’
Brina bid them farewell, and they stood and walked to the exit.
At the doorway, the Aebeling called out. ‘Feorhhyrde?’
Brina had used his new title – not without hesitation. Conn turned around. She smiled. ‘There is one last thing. Ingeulfur was my ancestor. Caewyn and I are the only ones left in Halani who descend from the Priecuman Casere of Meshech. There was never many, but we are the last. Somehow that seems significant.’ She turned and retired to her room at the end of the building, leaving Conn to follow Derryth down the ramp to prepare for his departure.
It took them over a week to get ready; Conn now had almost eighty horses and with Abrekan’s forty donkeys, the four of them had a lot of animals to handle – including a pack of dogs – though he was leaving half behind for the moment. Some were being trained to take care of chickens while other cared for goats or pigs.
The Aebeling Page 5
