The Aebeling

by O'Neill, Michael

  Allowena, who Conn noticed had spent the last part of the ride with Cliona talking with her, punched him as she passed. ‘How come you have never given me a picnic?’

  As Conn rubbed his arm, Driscol laughed. ‘Just can’t please ‘em, can you!’

  After their ‘barbeque’ of grilled meats and fine wine, they had an archery competition.

  Although supposedly fun, it was very serious. In the knock out competition, the last four were Arlen, who had beaten Driscol, Alric, Daray and Conn. Arlen was matched against Conn and Daray with Alric. Alric was a reasonably talented and skilled archer, and he managed to beat Daray by one point. Daray was gracious in defeat though he gave Conn a dirty look. He hated losing – especially when told to do so.

  Arlen was ultimately no match for Conn and huffed a little in defeat. However, he was rapidly changing his alliances, as he was starting to feel that Alric was the main problem; not Daray.

  The final bout started evenly. After three rounds they were tied; where Alric had made an error, Conn seemed also to do so. They moved the targets back another five paces, and then another. Still they were even. They changed the format to three flights each.

  After his thirty points, Alric was brimming with confidence. He sided up to Conn. ‘What say we make a wager to make things interesting. Say ten thousand Ryals?’

  ‘Ten thousand Ryals it is.’ Conn’s three arrows registered thirty points, and the targets went back five paces. Conn registered another thirty, and Alric registered the same; still tied. Another five paces. The targets were now at maximum viable range.

  Alric shot first and registered 25 points; his one arrow just missing. ‘How about increasing your bet, Alric – say my sword for the necklace you offered to Cliona or its equivalent in gold.’

  Given the distance, Alric was justifiably very happy with his score; all his arrows were on the extremities of the circle, and everyone there thought it improbable for anyone to do better than the Rakian. He had been extremely lucky.

  Alric readily agreed. This of course was a mistake.

  Conn’s three arrows flew true, forming a perfect triangle in the center of the target; his best three shots. Alric’s face showed that he knew that he had been conned; Conn had engineered his defeat, but there was nothing he could do about it. He did his best to smile and accept his loss graciously, but Conn could feel his hate and anger rising through the voice in his head. His Gyden was getting frustrated, and while revenge at any price was big on Alric’s list of desires, the voice nonetheless urged restraint and patience. It was clear that the Aebeling of Rakia was used to getting his own way.

  On the way back, Conn received approval from Driscol to assemble a Fyrd in Moetia. ‘I presume that you will keep them in Susa.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Just how big is your Fyrd going to be? You brought three hundred with you – how many more do you have?’

  ‘Fully trained, ready to march? I hope close to two thousand.’ He had five hundred bowmen in Atrak ready to board ships and over a thousand cavalry – both heavy and light – in Hama that were being mobilized as they spoke. He hoped to raise more.

  Shaking his head in disbelief, ‘I would have difficulty raising that many; you are certainly no ordinary Thane.’

  Driscol added the caveat that his Fyrd would have to train with Conn’s Fryd; to keep an eye on them – and learn from them.

  As they got into the edges of the Cotlif, they were joined by Cliona, on the Elfina. He knew because she nipped him as she arrived – a friendly nip this time.

  Cliona thanked him for the wonderful day, and then surprised him by asking what he thought she should do.

  Conn suggested that she ‘cut loose’ all but three of the suitors; even though the custom was to make them all wait the week. She asked her father, and he concurred. This was no normal contest.

  The next day she did just that; she called all the suitors back to the keep and advised them what her decision was. She made up a great excuse.

  ‘Even though it is not just about me, I have been very grateful that so many of you have offered to be my bedda. But I feel that there are too many of you to allow me to make the best decision for Lykia and Moetia. I need space to allow my head and heart to come to the same decision.’ She looked at Conn when she repeated his words, and she smiled. ‘I will release most of you today from your offer, and return to you your gifts.’

  She called out the names of the suitors and thanked them for their offer. Conn was very proud of her effort, and she wasn’t even his daughter! When there was five left; she called Devlin forward. The relief on his face was clearly visible. Conn nudged Allowena, who stood at his side, softly and she elbowed him back harder. Another bruise.

  Finally there was only three. Conn was secretly relived to see that Daray was left amongst the suitors; though he thought it unlikely she would relieve him of his offer, there was always a possibility. The other two were Alric and Arlen. Badb was silent throughout the deliberations; even though Conn had opened his mind to her. The other two voices were also silent.

  Cliona said that she would spend one day each with the three, and on the fourth day, she would decide. They drew straws to decide the order; Arlen, then Alric, then Daray.

  Daray spent the next two days with Wuffa sourcing supplies for the Fyrd in Moetiak, spending a large amount of money in the cotlif. The rest had been ‘ordered’ from Lykia – so a lot of pigeons flew home that day. Aerlene was agreeable that Conn could use her domain for the Fyrd. She wouldn’t even charge a lot for the privilege – she would be back later to “negotiate” terms.

  They did all this while trying to keep Alric none the wiser – though he did show a reasonable amount of interest in the flurry of activities, he seemed more interested in his own schemes. Conn had him tailed to determine just what he had seen, or what he was doing. If Conn knew what he knew, all was well.

  When he was able, Conn would find his way to the Library, and read through the scrolls, of which there were thousands. He aided progress by presenting the Librarian with a copy of the Laws of Moetia in a codex, recently completed by the scribes in Lykia. Deeply impressed, he readily accepted the promise of a large supply of codices, with accompanying Ryals, for a project to duplicate every scrolls in his Library. One copy of everything was to be sent to Atrak.

  Allowena joined him in his search – as did Devlin – surprised as he was that Allowena could both read and write. Free of his courtship of Cliona, he now used any excuse to spend time with her, and their growing relationship was not lost on Conn – or Aerlene. She asked him what he was going to do about it. She was concerned that Conn would end up breaking the poor girl’s heart. He told her not to worry.

  In the library, Conn read the ancient scrolls confirming that the Silekians had arrived seven hundred years ago and fought a war against the Ancuman for a hundred years before they were victorious. A lot of the detail about that period was lost because of several reasons – so many people died during the war that there was never enough Silekians to occupy of all of captured Meshech – or write good histories. Secondly, soon after the war, there was over thirty years of an “Endless Winter”; Conn equated it to the Little Ice Age – caused by volcanic eruptions somewhere else, the summers were short and the winters long, and crops failed to give good harvests. Lastly, the Moetians weren’t in Meshech during the war – they arrived during the “Endless Winter” and it meant little to them.

  Along with the Moetians, the Trokians and Gatinans arrived about the same time, and the Casere granted them lands and cotlifs that had been abandoned by the Ancuman. Conn did learn that, despite the hospitality of the Casere, just a hundred and fifty years later the leaders of these three nations revolted again his rule.

  The reasons for this rebellion were not clear; though it seems that the outcome was that the Casere abdicated, and all the Aebelings became Healdends, and the Casere of Meshech retired to become the Healdend of Silekia.

  There is no inform
ation of the war between the Ancuman and the Silekians, and even less on the Twacuman or Ancuman – but by the time the Moetians had arrived, the Ancuman were gone, and the Twacuman were rarely seen outside of Silekia, and visits to Halani were uncommon.

  All the new arrivals brought their own Gyden – and each built a new Cirice for the Folgere. Conn knew of four; the Cirice here in Moetiak, and others in Gatina, Silekia and of course Trokiak. Morna said the Cirice in Trokia was lost. One doesn’t normally lose something as important as a Cirice.

  He did find an old map that showed the main ports of Meshech and it called the current Cotlif of Trokia, ‘New Trokiak’. So where was old Trokiak and why was there a new Trokiak?

  The map was a copy of something even older, and he had every single map in their library copied by his apprentice cartographer. Later, one thing was certain – most of the coastlines was drawn in some detail except the coastline to the west – the area north of Kania.

  He asked Devlin why.

  ‘That is all pirate waters; the shores are treacherous and dangerous for craft. Pirates have ruled there for as long as the Healdend had ruled.’

  Conn knew of the pirates; they are what prevented his boats from trading with Kania.

  The people watching Alric reported that he regularly walked the grounds of the keeps, particularly in the kitchen garden area at the back, with his entourage. Here the staff grew vegetables and vines, and it was not a place for sightseeing, yet Alric persisted. On one occasion he secretly left behind a package, carefully hidden in the trees. Conn told his spies to leave it where it was, untouched

  Conn asked the Librarian what was behind the walls.

  ‘The Cirice.’ was the answer.

  So what was Alric up to? Conn had been planning to visit, but Badb gave him pause every time he considered it, as if to say ‘not yet, soon’, so he waited.

  On his day with the bedda-to-be, Daray and Cliona spent the day playing board-games that Conn had ‘invented’ for them; checkers and backgammon. Daray was moody and despondent when he returned; so Allowena hugged him and Conn let him be. He had invested a lot of emotional energy into this quest, and judgment day was near. Conn wasn’t sure what he would do if the answer wasn’t what he hoped for; perhaps invade a neighboring country or something. Wars can take our minds off broken hearts. Luckily Conn had one in mind.

  They assembled at midmorning on decision day; Cliona dressed in new clothes Conn had his tailors send her, and while Daray looked like he hadn’t slept at all, Cliona looked fresh and happy. Conn was sure that Daray hated her at this moment.

  After her father’s welcome and her initial greetings, she quickly got down to business. She called them forward and after a few extra words about how hard it was she directed her comments to Arlen.

  ‘Arlen, I cannot choose you. I have known you my whole life as a brother, and I have been unable to change my thoughts towards you. I release you.’ Conn noticed that Daray had started to breathe again.

  Arlen bowed and withdrew, he was upset but not in a broken heart kind of way; which, Conn thought bided well. Cliona then addressed the last two. ‘Someone said to me that my decision must be best for Moetia and for Lykia.’ She looked at Alric. ‘If I chose you, Alric il Rakia, Silekia would be surrounded by those that it does not consider friends; and if it fell, the Moetia would have a large power to its north, albeit I hope a friendly one.’ She paused. ‘I do not think that would be good for Moetia or Lykia. I release you from your offer.’

  Conn now noticed that the blood had returned to Daray’s face, he almost looked normal again. But he noticed something even stranger; Alric was not all upset at the result – though he would be more so when he remembered his bet. It was almost relief as well. So why was he here? What was the real purpose of his visit? It must have something to do with the Cirice.

  Cliona continued to speak, and as she spoke she looked to her father who nodded, and then to Conn. ‘It turns out that the best person for Lykia and thus for Moetia is also the best person for me. Yesterday we spent a whole day playing games – and he was kind enough to let me win some of them. Daray il Lykia, do you wish to withdrawn your offer?’

  ‘No, I do not.’ He struggled with the answer but he got it out.

  ‘Then I will accept your offer. I will be your bedda.’ The whole crowd clapped and yelled with approval. Cliona walked to Daray and kissed him tentatively and nervously on the lips, while she held his hands. They both blushed. They were mobbed by well-wishers, including Allowena and Devlin. The Healdend suddenly turned up at Conn’s elbow.

  ‘Well, Thane, you got what you wanted.’ When Conn was about to protest, he held up his hand and continued. ‘But it is also a decision that I’m in agreement with. I now think it is the best for Moetia also – given what you said. Where you worried that she would choose Alric?’

  ‘Not really, I think she knew that I would not let him on to Lykian soil; there would be a rebellion, and Lykia would have to fight both Rakia and Moetia. A lot of lives would be lost – and I would have liked my chances of winning.’

  With the concern and horror on Driscol’s face apparent, Conn changed tack. ‘Did you notice that Alric was not concerned that he wasn’t chosen? What do you make of that?’

  Before the Healdend had chance to answer, Alric joined them. He advised that he would be leaving at first light as the tide was highest, and that he would move out of his quarters tonight. Driscol arranged for his gifts to be returned – except for the ruby necklace that he gave to Conn. Unable to argue the point; Alric watched a fortune be given away. He bid farewell, and left the hall.

  The wedding feast was to be held that night as was custom, so everyone went home, to return later that evening.

  Conn suddenly had an urge to visit the Cirice. He walked outside the keep and walked through the side streets and market square. The road to the Cirice for confusing, when he thought he was there, he’d made another erroneous turn. It was almost as if it was avoiding him. Finally he came to the Cirice gates. They were much larger than he expected, and rather than timber, they were made of stone. He made his way through the side door, which was fortuitously unlocked.

  Inside, it was just a much larger version of the Cirice in Lykiak; a dozen buildings existed inside the walls and the Cirice itself was twice the size. As this was Badb’s Cirice the main entrance was to the east; and Conn walked into the center of the building, into the cella.

  In the Lykian Cirice there was only one carved idol; here there was four – each Apse had a fully explicit naked stone image of a Gyden. Naturally, the one in the east was larger and more detailed as this was Badb. They were so life like and so erotic, that the idols, the burning incense and the murals behind them overwhelmed your senses.

  There was only one Haligdom present however – on Badb’s outstretched hand. As he looked closely at the stone he noticed that it was damaged; it had a crack, a tiny hairline. Someone had tried to destroy it, and he wondered who and when. Conn immediately knew that he had a similar shaped rock in his pouch – one that his mother had collected. It was almost identical.

  He opened his mind to Badb, and she begrudgingly welcomed him to her Cirice – though she did willingly offer him a Folgere or two – if he had the time. He declined – for now – but asked her why he could hear three voices.

  ‘Three?’

  ‘Yours; and the one in the keep – but it is very weak, and the one that arrived with Alric.’

  She had no answer for him. Instead he could feel her discomfort. Strange.

  Satisfied, he was about to leave when he heard a noise behind him. He turned and in front of him, just off the ground, was a girl, about two. Her hair was dirty, brown and black, but her skin was lighter than usual. Somehow she looked familiar – perhaps it was the radiant blue eyes. The only person he knew with blue eyes was him or his children, so he was surprised to see others.

  ‘Hello,’ she said ‘are you my daddy? Badb says you are.’

  ‘I don�
�t know – who is your mother?’

  She walked forward with her arms out to be picked up. She allowed herself to be lifted and as she got up close to his face, she put her hand on his face.

  ‘Your eyes are just like mine – blue! You must be my daddy.’ Then she giggled and cuddled into him.

  Conn was about to speak when he heard someone calling ‘Ana, Ana, where are you?’ As Conn turned to the voice, a figure walked briskly around the corner; it was Morna. She stopped in shock, stunned.

  Conn spoke first. ‘Hello Morna. I gather we have a child - a daughter. She is very beautiful.’

  ‘She has a beautiful father. I heard you were here in Moetiak – but Badb told me not to go to you, that you will come to us.’

  ‘I gather that; Badb can be very bossy.’ He thought he would answer the obvious question. ‘I thought it impossible for you to have a child without Badb’s permission.’

  Morna smiled. ‘Yes, Badb was very surprised when I became pregnant. But Ana is special; she talks to Badb already, don’t you, sweetheart? Badb also didn’t allow me to give her away…’ When she saw shock in Conn’s face, she explained. ‘Children born of Folgere are highly valued; they are always adopted into the best families. But Badb said that you would come to collect her.’ She stopped and was quiet for a moment. ‘And here you are. Ana has been waiting for you for days. She is ready to leave, we have said our goodbyes.’

  Conn was caught surprised. ‘Sorry, I don’t think I understood you – you want me to take Ana away with me – today?’

  ‘Yes, the Cirice is no place for a child. Normally it is usual for the children to leave when they are very small – just a baby – but as I said, Ana is special. But she needs to go with you – and now is as good a time as any. We are both ready.’